The Jezebel Of India Ch 13

Chapter Thirteen.

With the onslaught of the victorious English, the Rani took flight from the fort, on the back of her beloved horse with her son at her back. They jumped into the unknown, the Rani and her son surviving but the horse did not. With an escort of trusted men, they stole away from the fort whose guns were soon quietened. With Gobinder, Deewan and a ragtag collection of cavalrymen, fled into the night.

The English stormed the fort under shot and shell and overcame it. There was no booty to be had in the fortress, just death, no women were found alive, and the defenders fought with a hopelessness and ferocity that cost the attackers dearly. Governor Rose surveyed the burning fort and ordered that patrols were to be formed and search for the Rani,

"She is the most personable, clever and beautiful of nobles and now the most dangerous of all Indian leaders," He ordered an intensive search to the made. The Grey brothers were immediately ordered to take a regiment of horse and ascertain if the Rani and Tatya Tope would join forces and if so, report back. Charles, still smarting from his elder brother's refusal to share the lovely Nisha, was sullen.

"Harry, I cannot understand why you behave like this," Their horses were now packed and as they gathered their personal effects, tempers boiled and bubbled. Harry looked at his brother,

"Charles, you have enough money for any whore and as soon as this campaign is over, we will resign our commissions and settle in this country. There are thousands of women, but this one is mine!"

"Damn you, and damn that bitch! You mark my words, Harry, you'd better come to your senses soon!" Charles was unable to comprehend his brother's change of heart over a native woman, but he'd show him that blood was of greater import than some lowly dark bitch. Taking the 8

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Hussars, the brothers split the men into squadrons and ordered a wide sweep of the area thought to have been taken by the Rani and what remained of her forces. Harry cantered through the camp, swelled with injured and exhausted soldiers and found Mulal and Nisha, packed up and ready to travel.

"You will be safe enough in the baggage wagon, Nisha and when we make camp, Mulal will secret you away. Do not fret my honey-coloured woman, I will see you this evening," Mulal saluted and tucked the canvas sheet over Nisha, "stay with the waggon, I fear my brother's chagrin has yet to fade. Once we make camp, make sure you put my tent up away from the others. I want my beauty safe from prying eyes,"

"Yes Sahib," Once she was out of sight, Mulal watched as the elder Grey brother set off. Once out of sight, he walked back around the baggage train and saw the chestnut mount of the younger brother, Charles,

"Is the girl in the waggon?" He asked quietly, looking out for any eavesdroppers and wandering soldiers. Mulal nodded and Charles lifted a small leather purse from his belt and dropped it not the hands of the sergeant, "My squadron leaves in a couple of hours, so I have time to teach that little bitch the meaning of brotherhood. Get her and bring her to the palace courtyard, I think it fitting her ravishment should be conducted in her old home, don't you think?" Mulal smiled thinly and went off to fetch the girl. Tied to the English bothered Mulal, their perversions troubled him and now being in the pay of the younger brother, against the elder was fraught with peril. By aligning himself with Charles Grey, he was making an enemy and this girl would be the tinder on which the brothers would fan the flames of their dispute. Instinctively, he felt for the leather purse of small gems, prised from the Rani's throne and pondered how he might extricate himself from this mess.

As he reached the waggon and pulled away the canvas cover, the girl jumped in fright.

"Come, you cannot stay in the waggon," He reached out and pulled her, "We will hide in the palace courtyard until it is time to move and then we will catch up," The girl simply followed meekly, trusting the arrangements and the affections of the elder Grey brother. As she trailed behind Mulal, she saw the troops march out and horse artillery, and cavalry kicking up huge choking dust clouds and soon found herself in the courtyard of the palace. There, to her surprise was a large canvas tent and a chestnut horse tethered to a lancer's weapon. She glanced at Mulal and then back to the tent, something felt wrong.

"Is the Grey brother here?" She asked, but Mulal said nothing and marched her to the tent and pushed her into the canvas abode and there stood Charles Grey, in shirt and breeches and holding a wicked-looking riding crop.

"Now, let us see what skills you possess to make my brother turn away from his blood. Well, I think if we spill a little of yours, he will come to his senses!" With a lightning-fast flick of the wrist, the crop stung her across her shoulder, and she buckled. Once she fell to the ground, Charles pounced. With this free hand, he grasped her saree and pulled violently. With a loud ripping, the garment shredded; handfuls of red and gold fabric came away and then he rained down another stinging blow to stun her, whilst he tore the clothes from her body. After a fourth blow, large livid welts rose upon her delicate honey skin and within moments, Charles Grey had the sobbing woman naked.

"Please Sahib...please!" Nisha sobbed, knowing that if he didn't stop, she would be beaten badly and feared disfigurement, "I will do what you want!"

"You fucking little whore!" Charles grabbed her and dragged her to the pelisse bed, and rained two more blows upon her breasts, "Submit to me, you bitch and beg for your worthless life!"

"Please Sahib, I will do as you say!" Nisha had no choice but to attempt to give him what he wanted and pray that his violence would be diluted once he had spilt his seed inside her. As he raised the riding crop again, she flinched and looked away but then he laughed cruelly.

"Get on your knees and suckle my prick. Do it well or I will stripe your back!" His words hissed like a snake and he smiled as she watched the girl shuffle over on her knees and kneel before him. She looked up, her breasts heaved as his breath was caught in her throat as she tried to wet her mouth, She looked up, and then tenderly unbuttoned the white breeches and slipped the linen material. Charles watched her and as she took out his stiff prick, she looked up at him submissively. With a wet tongue, she licked up and down the twitching shaft, her tongue caressing the veins and ridges. She knew the tender places on a man's prick and touched all of them. Her hand stroked and pumped his member and as she kissed and licked him, she knew that his entry into her cunny would be tight; he was more ardent than his more tender, more loving brother. She doubted that he would be tender when he pushed himself into her tight places and as she lowered her mouth onto his prick; his free hand held her head and then pushed himself down her throat and then she gagged loudly.

Charles smiled as he made the woman gag his prick and he thrust his hips and pushed her head, so his prick caused her to shake, as she struggled to manage the thick flesh in her airway. Charles chuckled, not only the feeling of her tongue flattened against his prick, massaging it as she shuddered, trying to accommodate his prick. As he enjoyed the joyous feeling on his sensitive glans, his eyes closed and then he pulled his prick from her and saw her long ropes of salvia hanging off his prick. She looked up at him, as he pushed off his boots, his breeches and finally his shirt. Standing naked, his hand no longer holding the crop, he reached down to Nisha and pulled her up. She lowered her gaze, partly to avoid antagonizing him and partly to gather herself to what she expected to be a blizzard of blows, but found instead his hands caressing her breasts, pulling on her nipples, which betrayed her by stiffening.

"Are these the buds that turned my brother away from me?" Charles held her tightly, pulling her forward and then put his mouth to her right nipple and sucked on it hard. As she shifted to her other nub, Nisha gasped with the force of his mouth. She shuddered, as the nipples were tortured by his teeth, rasping across the delicate flesh,

"Oh Sahib, you make me hungry for you," Nisha lied, as she deftly slipped one of her own fingers into her hairy cunny, and rubbed herself, stimulating her cunny to run wet. Charles pulled away and smiled at the swollen raw nipples, that flowered before him. As he looked down at her flat belly, Nisha slipped away her hand quickly, his eyes feasted on her glossy black pubic hairs and then dropped to his knees and sniffed at her sex. Nisha took the opportunity presented to her and gathered the man's sweaty brown hair and pulled him into her cunny and ground her hips into his face, parting her legs to offer her surrender. Charles, his tongue tasting her womanly muskiness then slipped his hands to her curved buttocks and pulled open her cheeks, his finger finding her dirty hole and making small circles over the puckered skin. Nisha's knees bent a little, giving the impression that she enjoyed her dirt hole being played with and crowned her deception with a deep moan as the Englishman nibbled at her thin sensitive cunny lips. With his prick straining, Charles placed the woman on the bed, turning her over onto her hands and knees placed himself between her legs rubbing the head of his prick against her sensitive opening. Nisha lowered herself to give him the best view and the easiest access to her body and was thankful that she was lubricated enough to allow him to penetrate her with some ease. Charles threaded himself into Nisha's body, his prick enjoying the suffusion of warmth and slippiness of her sex, filling her up as fully as he could and then tormenting her by pulling himself out fully and then penetrating her again. For minutes, he toyed with her, using his prick to rhythmically enter her and then withdrawing, making her shiver involuntarily as he used her for his pleasure, thinking nothing of the sensations that coursed through her body, both arousal and revulsion in equal measure.

"Now, let us see how you feel about my prick in your dirty hole, I know my brother likes to fill you up so let's see how it feels!" The words hurt her, as they were supposed to and as much as his thick member would stretch her unwilling hole. In point of act, Harry had only used her other hole on two occasions, both times he had been slow and careful. Nisha felt Charles's prick nosing into her, but she knew she had no choice except to play the Englishman at his own game, relaxing herself and then pushing back onto his swollen head, she cooed,

"Oh, Sahib you make me tremble. You are a bigger man than your brother! Use me, Sahib; make me your own!" Her lies were as sweet as honey in his ear and bolstered his confidence and nudged desperate ardour, he pressed himself into her dirt hole and Nisha, flexing her sphincter made his entry even more exciting. She pushed back and helped his head stretch her ring of muscle and was soon sliding into her hole. Stifling a groan, she panted and cooed again, "Oh Sahib! Sahib! My true master!" With these words, Charles felt himself inflate and a sense of true superiority swept over him as he began to rhythmically pump into her. Nisha levelled her own body to ease his entry and pushed back on him, shortening his thrusts but exciting his prick quickly; combined with her internal muscles which gripped him as tightly as she could, kept his attention on his own penetration. Nisha, slipping a hand to her cunny rubbed furiously at her swollen nub to excite herself and distract from the pain of the Englishman's prick. Unnervingly, her body responded, and her arousal began to build rapidly, hating the man that penetrated her tightness but the pressure of him inside and her frenetic rubbing on her sensitive nub made her knees weak.

For Charles, the tightness of Nisha's hole and his over-excitement were too much for him and his climax gripped him violently, "Oh my God!" He pulled his prick from its tight sheath and a stream of pearl-white semen erupted from his head, splashing onto the girl's honey-coloured buttocks and back. Nisha, feeling his prick left her tight hole, panted wildly, the pain finally leaving her, but she needed to put the final seal on her apparent submission to Charles.

"Oh Sahib, you paint me with your seed. I have never known such potency!" The lips dripped from her lips and then dragged herself from the floor and flopped onto the bed. Charles knelt back and looked at the girl, her breasts heaving, "I must go, Sahib, I mustn't be found here by your brother!"

"No, you will remain here. You are mine now!"

End of Chapter Thirteen.