The Lord of the House

Chapter 3 - Resilience

Sunil ran a finger over an ornately engraved invitation sitting atop a large pile on the side table. He frowned. Kriti watched him with apprehension from her careful perch at the baby grand piano—another mark of the Thakur's extravagance.

She had just finished practicing a piece which she had noticed the Thakur often requested in the afternoons. Lately, she'd been speaking discreetly with Choti and the other servants to learn subtle ways to satiate his

other

appetites with colors, music, food, entertainments, incense, and fragrant oils. It wasn't yet clear whether this strategy would succeed in lessening his sexual demands (upon the women servants and her). It did seem to be keeping him in a mood in which he was less inclined to belittle his sons. At least that was some progress.

The Thakur had arranged for an opulent party in order to bring the people most involved in the factory expansion into his home. The invitations would be individually delivered, not mailed or sent by digital means, even the ones that would take hours by private car to reach their destinations.

Sunil spoke in a sardonic tone, perhaps to her, perhaps to himself, "Under the auspices of

hospitality

, Father will show off his largesse. He'll encourage drinking, festivity, and loosening of manners. When everyone's guard is down, he'll take the measure of these people in a wholly different way."

Kriti didn't answer, it seemed prudent to simply listen. Sunil turned and regarded her with a peculiar expression. She suddenly wondered, with horror, exactly what would be included under

festivity

. It must have shown on her face.

Sunil shook his head. "He would never give you to someone outside the household, let alone a Westerner. His pride far outweighs his predilections."

Kriti took a risk. "Perhaps it's also an opportunity for them to see you in a position of prominence in the household as well as the company. Your abilities are already clear to them. It was primarily your attention to detail that allowed the closing to be completed. There are ways that we can demonstrate your overall leadership even if your father remains... dominant."

"It's good that you're thinking this way. I've very much missed Mother's help in that regard."

Kriti thought to herself,

It's good that you recall that I have a mind at all

.

But then, he said, "Come to our rooms." It was more a command than an intimate suggestion.

During their swift courtship, they had enjoyed stolen afternoons when they did everything but invalidate Kriti's virginity. Although the invitation (command) was doubtless instigated by thinking on the Thakur's next move, Kriti harbored hope of a somewhat mutual encounter. She decided to reward Sunil as much as possible if that were the case.

Once in private, not waiting for him to order or manipulate her, she dropped to her knees and unzipped his trousers. He made a sound of surprise.

Good

. His semi-hardness quickly grew in her hands, making the skin tight and satiny. While gasping at the sensations, he bent and undid the ties of her blouse at her back.

After teasing him for a bit with just her hands, she slid him into her mouth and began in earnest, one hand working along with her tongue, the other cupping a breast, circling a nipple, and then pinching it gently between thumb and forefinger, bringing herself along in time with him. She made sure he could see. It would drive him wild. And perhaps he might learn something.

"Fuck," Sunil hissed.

Her mouth was suddenly salty with his precome. His hips shuddered a bit and she pulled back, careful not to bring him. Steeling herself, she looked up along his body into his eyes and caressed both her breasts, displaying them while pleasing herself. She had never been so brazen, but there seemed absolutely no point to remaining modest in these matters.

Sunil growled a little in his throat. "Nurse me."

She rose gracefully and made her way to the bed. He stopped her with hands on her hips and pulled at her sari until it unraveled. Now nude, she climbed up and settled her back against the many pillows and headboard, raising her knees. Sunil lay back and she braced his head and shoulders on her thighs. Offering him a breast, she closed her eyes at the strong sensation as he began to suck and knead. She stroked his hair with one hand and with the other, stroked his now extremely swollen cock, softly at first. He moaned and thrust.

"No, Sunil," she crooned, "you must hold still for me. I want this to last."

He groaned in protest

and

ecstasy. She knew that he loved, at least in this circumstance, to be told what to do. He trembled in compliance but began toying with her nipple against his tongue, sucking and then pressing. He wasn't doing it for her, but it had the fortunate effect of making her long to be fucked. Slowly, masterfully, she stroked him, using her thumb to circle the head, her fingers rubbing gently at his frenum, then down, pulling the skin tighter and rubbing at the base.

Sunil clasped at her other breast and tried to draw it to his mouth. She shifted just enough to allow it. Wetness slid from her. She quickly stroked him harder a few times and stopped, evoking a sharp noise as he almost came but didn't. A few times, she repeated this. Finally, she urged him up enough to move out from under him and then straddled him, flicking his cock up enough to settle it within her. He grabbed a pillow to raise his head high enough that he could continue suckling as she moved. Kriti kept herself low as she shifted her hips in a slow circle. It was a trick of observation, keeping this up long enough, pausing if he was too close. She knew that at any time, he could decide to thrust up into her and get himself off. He didn't. She was so aroused now that a few more rounds were enough for her to climax. It wasn't so powerful that she had to cry out, but she let him know in throaty sounds. He whimpered in reply and then thrust up hard to meet her as she convulsed around him.

She lay against him afterward, perspiration slicking them both, and let her pulse return to normal. It had been as close to lovemaking as she had ever experienced with him. It was just the chemicals telling her that he loved and cherished her, she knew that, but still, she felt she had earned any good feeling that she might experience.

***

That afternoon, a courier arrived with a number of bags bearing the Prada name and logo, from a boutique in the city. The Thakur ordered the items to be laid out in the great room and called Kriti and Sunil to attend.

"For this party, for the success of the business, I wish for the family to present as modern and fashionable. Sunil, the tailor will come to fit custom evening suits in the latest Paris style for each of us. For you, Bahu, I engaged a stylist who selected these dresses and shoes. You will try them on, and I will choose." From his tone, it was clear that Sunil's opinion and hers were of no consequence.

The Thakur opened the packages himself. He immediately disregarded several choices, flicking his fingers to have them taken away. Then, he gestured for a servant to open shoe boxes. He walked back and forth along the table. After perusing, he selected a pair of sequined satin platform sandals in a neutral, champagne color. At his gesture, Kriti sat and slipped out of her flat house sandals, buckling into the dramatic heels.

Rubbing black satin fabric between his fingers, the Thakur motioned for Choti who had been standing nearby. She guided Kriti behind an ornate screen draped with a woven tapestry. Kriti suspected that the screen had only been staged there to create an unveiling effect for each outfit and had nothing to do with her privacy. Still, she was grateful for it.

She immediately liked the black satin halter dress, even though it was modern and very slinky it felt modest.

The Thakur's brow knitted. "Too dull." He waved a hand dismissively.

Kriti imagined that

dull

meant, among other things,

opaque

.

Similarly, an embroidered tulle dress in blush with splashes of brilliant crystals was not to his liking. While form-fitting and elegant, he pronounced it, "Not sexy."

Three more dresses were tried and rejected.

A long black silk gown, simple on top, turned out to have a trick skirt into which fringes had been cut all around it from hem to lower hip and beaded in jet. As soon as she walked out from behind the screen, the Thakur made a dangerous noise. He beckoned for her to come closer. Closer. She complied until she was standing at his knee. She glanced at Sunil whose expression was darkening. The Thakur touched her thigh through the fringes, just above her knee. He traced around to her inner thigh. "Rest this foot on the step." She did so and cast her eyes aside to gaze at a stunning vase of orchids across the room. His fingers slid upward as the fringes slipped to either side of her raised knee. He continued, finally parting her and forcing his thumb inside, thrusting deeply several times. She kept quiet. He withdrew his hand. "Turn around."

What else?

She thought. But she did what he commanded.

He parted the fringes in back and pushed the solid fabric up, bearing her ass. Suddenly, he smacked one cheek hard, and she squeaked in surprise. He tested the other cheek like a ripened peach. "Perfect. And altogether too distracting for an occasion when I must focus. Take it to my rooms, Choti."

Once safely back behind the screen, peeling the dress off was a sweet relief. Next, Choti helped Kriti into a pearl-gray sleeveless shift with a deep front vee and more shallow back vee. It had large sequins that lay like overlapping fish scales along the hourglass shape. She instantly loved how it shimmered. It complimented her coloring and moved beautifully. But when she looked in the mirror attached to the back of the screen, the fabric was scandalously transparent. It did keep her precocious nipples in check. And somewhat visible areolae were acceptable given the current state of international fashion. The long back zipper and seam would give her some small modesty in the rear, but the dark patch in front was unacceptable. As usual, underwear had not been ordered. She didn't even want to walk out into the room for fear that the Thakur would choose this just to torture her. Fortunately, Choti had prepared. She cleverly offered a pale, thin silk skirt intended to be worn separately. It easily layered underneath, and the effect looked perfect. It hinted at strategic nudity but not so much as to appear pornographic. The outfit with the shoes was extravagant, impractical, and flattering.

This time, Kriti tried to move not as someone accustomed to plainer dress and modest comportment but as an entitled, rich socialite whose family could afford to adorn her for one party in a year's salaries for the whole village. The first thing she noticed was the shift in Sunil's expression from angry frustration to surprised pride. She felt hate well up. She smiled at him to hide it. The next thing she noticed was Raj's admiring look from where he stood out in the hallway. He gave her a little wave and backed away.

"Bring

the pearls

." From the Thakur's tone, Kriti somehow knew that these would be the family Chanel Akoya pearls that had last been worn by Sunil's mother, displayed in her portrait which hung across from the Thakur's place at the dining table. These were indeed placed around her throat and in her ears. "Exactly so," pronounced the Thakur with satisfaction, his eyes half-lidded.

Kriti found herself glad that she would not be adorned with something flashier, the dress and shoes were plenty. At the same time, the idea of wearing jewelry that had been warmed by the skin of the Thakur's late wife came uncomfortably close to being counted among his possessions. She might be household chattel, but she had married his son, not

him

.

The Thakur had not had her since that whisky debauchery in his great room, and she worried that he was building toward something she would find truly unbearable. As it was, he dismissed everyone but her and Sunil. After instructing Sunil to stand at his shoulder and Kriti to walk back and forth across the room, toward him and away from him, he slowly unzipped his own trousers and pulled his cock free to stroke it at his leisure. His caresses were hard and lingering and he leaned his other elbow against the armrest as he grunted and brought himself to pleasure.

Not surprisingly, that evening, Sunil worked off some resentment upon her body. The illusion of lovemaking from earlier had been dispelled. Her presence was, frankly, incidental. As he slept heavily into the deep of the night, she slipped out to meditate but found herself diverting toward Raj's room. He wakened and welcomed her quietly but passionately. They shared an intense embrace that brought her a shuddering release as he rocked into her. She slipped out just as quietly as she had arrived and was back in bed before Sunil had even rolled over.

***

The week passed as had many before. Sunil devoted himself to the factory expansion, leaving early, coming home when she was already asleep. Sometimes he fucked her before he fell into slumber, sometimes not.

Raj had taken off to Goa with some friends. Before leaving the house, he kissed her cheek affectionately and promised not to avoid the party in case he could be of any assistance to her.

The Thakur came and went, breezing in for high-level tours and meetings at the factory, and attending his private members club where he met with socially well-placed people. He also ordered the hiring of twice the workers to finish the pool tiling, landscaping, and lighting for the party.

The side benefit of the pool being completed was that, by Thursday, Kriti was able to start her morning with a swim for the first time since she had left the city. It felt like heaven and a tiny slice of freedom. She tried not to think of Saturday. Dread loomed. She swam harder.

Her Friday morning swim felt brisk as the pool had cooled overnight. Between the workout and the chill, Kriti felt unusually energized as she showered. She felt a sudden urge to touch herself. She was alone, Choti didn't attend her in the bathroom. Kriti lay down on the tiled bench along the wall in the huge shower, steam rising around her. It seemed decadent. Using the tips of her fingers (both hands), she traced the path of Raj's tongue, mimicked its pressure. Periodically, she paused and allowed her longest two fingers to delve inside, rocking her hips against the pressure. Over and over, she drove herself wild, not allowing it to end. She had to be silent, which only made her more desperate. She imagined a disembodied cock slipping

with her permission

into her cunt from behind, fucking her while gentle hands squeezed at her cheeks. Orgasm shocked through her. She quickly rinsed off and exited, noticing that she had only been in the shower nine minutes.

Her

nine minutes.

In the afternoon and without notice, the Thakur sent Choti and a makeup artist to Kriti's room, interrupting her reading. They spent hours finding precisely the right cosmetics to prepare her as though she would grace the cover of a French couture magazine. She hardly recognized herself. Kriti nodded, accepting this additional shield for her armor. In just over twenty-four hours, this particular portion of her ordeal would be over.

***

Kriti sat quietly in the small telephone room off the great room, resting and composing herself. She would be on her feet for hours. She had finished a small snack with tea, not wanting to worry about eating during the party.

Raj appeared and leaned on the doorjamb. He had somehow escaped the custom tailor and was wearing a brilliant blue slim-fit suit, patent loafers, and a white shirt open at the throat.

"You look amazing!" she said.

He tilted his head and gestured at a sleeve. "Tom Ford. Since Father chose a prestige designer for you to show off his money, I said that if people could look up what we're all wearing and see the prices, it would make for a

better

show. He and Sunil chose Brioni," he wrinkled his nose, "too

conservative

for me."

Not for the first time, for his sake, Kriti fervently hoped that Raj would be recruited to work in the U.S. and never come back. She depended upon his friendship. And despite having arisen in a nonconsensual situation, their coupling was by choice and fulfilling. In a short time, he had gone from a competent lover to a highly skilled one. He observed his partner in order to give pleasure, not just take it. At the thought, a little thrill shot through her. Kriti refused to feel odd about it. After all, she was following clear instructions to keep all three men satisfied. She also refused to be a reason that he'd stay. Her thoughts must have shown a bit. Raj stepped in and took her hand to help her stand.

Quietly, he said, "I only didn't comment on how you look tonight because I know that too many eyes are on you all the time. But even with all the artifice he's forced on you, you're you. I see you." Tenderly, he stroked her cheek. "I wish I knew how to really help."

Kriti closed her eyes and basked in his touch. "If I say,

I love you

, you aren't going to take that the wrong way, right? We aren't

happily ever after

."

Raj snorted lightly. "I love you too." He offered his arm. "Shall we? I'll do the proper hand off to Sunil."

The sort of European electronic music popular with upscale hotel lounges was playing over the house speaker system at the perfect level to allow conversation while creating atmosphere. She could see people streaming in the main entrance as she and Raj slipped out to enter the great room via one of the side doors. The Thakur stood facing the filling room with his back to the veranda, Sunil at his right side. They both held whisky glasses. It was not lost on her that they wore matching black suits, white shirts, and red ties. Their red tilaks were fresh. The Thakur had added a gold and diamond tie pin and his red prayer beads weren't in evidence, they were likely tucked under the cuff of his shirt. As intended, they looked like modern businessmen, and not the sort who kept their wife/daughter-in-law captive as a sentient sex toy.

The Thakur was beaming, greeting people with sweeping gestures and laughter. This was new—she had only seen him laugh sardonically. Sunil seemed tense and guarded, covering it well, but she could see. Like her (but not like her) he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He glanced her way and gave her what seemed like a genuine smile. After ducking his head and saying something she couldn't hear, he came over and accepted her hand from Raj. Raj went to stand at the Thakur's other side. Sunil brought her with him so that she stood next to him at the end of their little row and placed his arm possessively around her waist.

Over and over, she was introduced to new people. She shook hands, smiled, offered pleasantries, all the while filing away who was whom and how they were part of the business and the Thakur's need to shine.

After the initial greetings had finished in a receiving line style, the Thakur stepped over and took Kriti's elbow. "Bahu, it's time to speak with a few choice people who are key to the expansion. Sunil, you and Raj must

handle

Mr. Carmody, I see that he is speaking to Rao, and while it is good to have enemies in the house where we can best watch them, we do not wish them to become comfortable with our allies." With that, Kriti found herself in the Thakur's possession.

She was already familiar with the head of the Senior Management Team and was introduced to his second. They chatted about challenges in quickly growing the workforce while maintaining quality. Without thinking first, Kriti shared a reference for a rapid training module that her previous firm had used to success along with "podding" a long-time worker with two trainees. For once, the Thakur did not dominate the conversation, but listened. Finally, he said with a smile, "Kriti completed her chemical engineering degree in half the time most candidates require. And now, we benefit." This startled her—she didn't think he had cared about her education let alone noted it. Surprise was quickly followed by apprehension; perhaps she shouldn't have offered any advice.