Part two: Goray Lal
Parvati knew that while her father was alive and in good health she and her child were safe, but what if something were to happen to him?
She began preparing for that eventuality.
From the Brahmins she learnt how to read and write. She knew neither because it was not thought necessary for girls to be literate, not even those of high birth. So, she had to start at the bottom-- the alphabet. From there she progressed in leaps and bounds, eventually reading whatever she could get her hands on -- from the classics to the most modern tomes that her father had collected in the Royal Library. Concomitantly she sat down with the Brahmins everyday to learn about Philosophy, Religion, Economics, Governance, Warfare and anything else they cared to throw at her.
She learnt all the physical aspects of warfare -- hand to hand fighting, effective wielding of a sword, archery, and proficient horse riding. She was tall, lithe and well coordinated. Her strength would never be the equal of a man's but by using her natural attributes she was able to subdue most of the men she trained with.
She used Yoga to keep her body supple and strong and her mind sharp. She never indulged in alcohol or cannabis (not even during the spring festival of Holi when most people, men mainly, consumed large quantities of either and went wild). And her diet was strictly vegetarian.
Her father was so impressed with her that he made her his prime minister. To do this he had to retire the incumbent who was a distant cousin. This cousin went grumbling, about women not knowing their place, to his familial estates in a neighboring kingdom.
She knew then that she was finally safe. Because, if now something were to happen to her father she was in a position to declare herself as the next ruler and she would have the power of her position to back it up.
She had one addiction if you could call it that, just one chink in her otherwise impregnable armor. Yes this paragon of virtue had one flaw - she had developed an appetite for sex. Mahmud had opened up a part of her that she had not known existed. From a conventional Hindu woman who submerged her identity in the universal maleness of Hindu tradition she had progressed to recognizing her needs and aspirations and carving out a new identity for herself. Prominent in all this was her need for sex. She had to have sex constantly. Not every minute nor even every day -- she was not a nymphomaniac. But fairly regularly if she was to keep her mental equilibrium stable. And certainly not the male initiated sex that was the norm but sex in which she took a positive role and was at least an equal partner in the pursuit of gratification.
She chose her lovers carefully. Her first was a shy young man who worked in the royal stables. He was of a high caste but had fallen on bad times when his father had died suddenly. He was forced to work while a distant relative tried to arrange getting him married into a rich family.
She noticed him for the first time when she returned one day quite frazzled from trying to control her horse. These were the early days of her return to her father's kingdom. She was still learning the essentials of riding and her instructor had her mount this rather nervous horse. It had been a stressful time for both horse and rider.
The young man had soothed her horse into complete docility in next to no time. He had a powerful physique, broad shoulders and tree trunk thighs. But it was the gentleness and sensitivity with which he handled her horse that impressed her.
She observed him covertly from then on. The more she saw of him the more her desire to fuck him grew. He was eminently fuckable and eminently available. But she was not going to let her lust screw up her secure existence. She made certain that efforts to get him married were underway and that he would most likely be hooked up with a woman from another Kingdom. Then, she made her move.
She turned up at the stables one day when she knew he would be the only attendant. He was working on one of the King's horses; busy grooming it, so it would look handsome and regal for the upcoming Shivratri festival when the King would ride in royal splendor to the Shiv temple to seek the blessings of the Destroyer.
He was sweating from his exertion. And smelling of it too. The sheer maleness of the smell only heightened her lust. Dear God, she was ready to be fucked if the stench of sweat made her horny! A long time, or so it seemed, had elapsed since Mahmud's prong had left her willing cunt unfilled. She draped her willowy frame against a mud wall and observed archly, "What would it take to rub me down like that?" She was not going to waste time getting to the point.