Two weeks later I walked nude from the bathroom into my bed room and looked at the black lacy panties of the finest silk that Wolfgang had bought. It struck me then that I was really nothing more than a slut, even a whore. At least he was always buying me the best money could buy.
Nothing but the best for his "aristocratic slut," as he called me.
Lingerie from La Perla, shoes from Manola Blahnik, silk stockings from Fogal, an evening dress from Valentino, blouses and skirts from Cavalli.
How easy it is to get used to what is expected; like wearing black silk panties, stockings, garters and only covered by a short silk robe in the morning when he permitted me. What was most expected was being available to perform at any time.
Each day was an exciting journey even if I was a bit frightened most of the time. Every day I stood on my high heels before the mirror and looked at myself. I felt the heat when I looked at my pointed nipples, staring at the wanton slut in the mirror. I knew until he would depart for Germany that every day I was his Randi, his whore. I paid for the pretty dresses and the beautiful lingerie he bought me with my sexy body.
That morning two weeks after it began was like a revelation for me, when I truly knew myself. I felt a strange wetness in my vagina when I walked into the living room on my high heels, knowing the truth that my body was not my own anymore. It belonged to Wolfgang to use as he pleased.
I was ready to do whatever he wanted to avoid returning to India, even at the cost of further humiliation, knowing that getting through a few more days was necessary to regain my free will.
Wolfgang looked at me and said,
"What is it Mangala, my dear slut?"
"Will you behave and be friendly until I return to Germany or shall we call your Dad and show him the nice pictures of his pretty daughter?
I can tell him that you couldn't wait to have sex with the first man you found."
"You don't want your family to know that, do you Mangala? Just look at these pictures. See the way you are dressed? My dear it's not very decent showing your wet pussy and your nice tits. It is not expected from a nice and aristocratic lady like you to have your hand on my dick and my cum on your pretty face."
"Mangala I have decided that this morning you are going to show me you are a slut. You will be especially nice, friendly and cooperate to whoever I want. When I want you to suck, you will open your pretty mouth and suck the cock of whoever I want and when I want you to fuck, you are going to open your pretty legs without any protest and you are going to show how good you are at satisfying until I am happy with your performance."
What he said horrified me. Why would Wolfgang do this? I looked at him, no warmth in his features, a knowing look instead and he knew he had defeated me.
I nodded my head, realizing that I did not even know how many times he had fucked me during the last two weeks; there had not been a day without him inside me, either my vagina or me on my knees sucking his dick. I begged him,
"No please, I cannot do it anymore."
He leaned over and touched my face and said,
"Of course you can my beautiful Indian Princess. You can and you will! You will do what I want this morning. You will not be an arrogant bitch like you always are to other men, thinking that you are better than them. This my Darling," his tone became gentler, "Will not do..."
I knew the truth by then though. There was nothing gentle about Wolfgang.
"My dear, you are a whore... a sophisticated whore, but a whore."
"You don't live on this large estate in India anymore; You don't have your Daddy to protect you, You don't have your servants or your driver to command... Time has come full circle for you, because now it's you "Princess" who will serve men and obey."
"Mangala, you will be friendly, sweet and polite and you will use your pretty mouth whenever it's needed by a man. You know I will be leaving next week and I do worry about you, Mangala my slut. But I will do my best to ensure you will be well fucked when I leave."
"Darling, I know you may choose when I leave to go back to your decent life, you will sell your jewellery and fool yourself for a while and look for a boring man who you can wrap around your little finger."
"But such men cannot satisfy you. Better for you to continue to satisfy your desires as a whore. In time you will not be able to ignore your body's wishes."
"There will always be men who will look in your "fuck me" eyes and recognise your true desires, your need for sex, your need to obey and serve. They will take and use you the way I have."
"But first this morning you are going to show you are a "good" girl and obey. It's time for a new experience and I know deep inside you can't wait to obey me, to open your pretty legs. You have always desired this since you were a little girl and I have decided to give it to you."
I realized this morning he was particularly evil and he knew I would do anything to avoid returning to India, even at the cost of further humiliation.
But knowing I would submit to another man at his command and actually doing it turned out to be a different matter entirely.
When the room service waiter brought breakfast, he said good morning to Wolfgang and looked at me with a smirk on his face. So I knew right away what he had in mind.
I disliked such common men, how I disliked this ignorant black servant that reminded me of my driver, Samuel because I had liked Samuel until he started to use me like all men want to use me.
I ignored the black man arrogantly like I did every morning, something which I knew irritated Wolfgang immensely as we played our little mind games; me knowing that I had to obey him in everything, he knowing his days in New York were coming to an end to have his fun with me.
But now I was afraid, there was a tension in the room and seeing how they looked at each other and smiled I knew they had discussed me.
The truth is after my experiences with Samuel and how he made me obey him,
"Be a nice girl for me Mistress Mangala,"
black men scared me more than anything; the way they always looked at me with their black eyes when we walked into a restaurant, me far above their station.
In India I knew all too well how black Negro men are very attracted to Indian women like me, women that they could never have given their low status and the meagre jobs they are only able to get in India.
Thinking back, I closed my eyes remembering my own black driver Samuel who always looked at me with his dark intense eyes, telling me in his dark voice I was a bad arrogant girl, that I was always teasing boys.
He took me to school and brought me back alone; then one day when my parents where away on a long trip to Europe he started to influence me.
In a locked room in the back of the stable where nobody could find us he told me that nice girls like me must always obey men and do what they are told to do. Not be an arrogant bad girl because then Mangala must be punished.
Then his finger went over my lips and when he told me
"bad girls much be punished don't they Mistress Mangala," and I answered him "yes Samual bad girls must be punished!
I opened mouth and his thumb touched and played with my tongue. Slowly his black fingers went in and out as he told me to suck his thumb until I got it right, the whole experience making me feel so strange. It was our secret and during the following days every afternoon I went to the stable to see him.
Then he started by taking my hand each day and he slowly made me touch the front of his trousers so that I could feel him.
Then when I proved willing to do that much without him making me, he bade me unzip his trousers and touch him for the first time when he showed himself.
If dad had known how in the following days Samuel made his pretty innocent daughter touch and lick his big black member and corrupted her thoughts, he would have shot him.
The first time I saw his big black thing I was so scared of how powerful it seemed. It was thick and so long, but Samuel was nice and when he took my small hand and smiled and made me touch him it gave me a funny feeling as he laughed.
That first night I could not sleep, still seeing his sex tool in front of me. I started to touch myself for the first time. I suppose that he had started to slowly seduce me.
When I was comfortable touching his huge tool he began touching my face tenderly, his finger went over my lips and when he told me I opened mouth and his thumb touched and played with my tongue, exciting me.
I sat up straight with Wolfgang's strong hand on my knee. I felt again like a little girl in front of Samuel, the way the black waiter leered at me just like Samuel had done. I was almost hypnotised as I sat there, lost in memory.
I felt Wolfgang's touch, his hand came between my legs stroking me and I was abruptly helpless, unable to resist when he pushed his hand further between my thighs.
I felt my excitement, the moisture between my legs, letting him slide his hands between my legs. I knew that until he left I was his sex partner, unwilling or not and I would open my legs for him every time he wanted.
He was exploring the inside of my thighs, stroking me, making me shiver, me growing cold, but also growing wet, making me look down to hide my embarrassment as he touched me.
When I looked up I saw the black waiter grinning, leering openly as he brought our breakfast to the table.
Shamefully, I didn't resist his touch and opened my legs further; I might have been disgusted that the waiter had a view of my most private area, barely covered with a tiny piece of silk material but I did it anyway because Wolfgang wanted me to do. I knew the black man was aching to see my wet pussy under my panties.
My own desire was rising while Wolfgang's hand stroked me through the silk. I bit my lips, sending shivers of shame through me as the waiter placed the coffee and juice on the table.
At the same time I saw the waiter smiling at Wolfgang, then back again at me, but not my face. His gaze was fixed on my spread thighs, my black silk panties and my erect nipples just aching to be touched. Red faced I nevertheless felt excited by this humiliation.
What was wrong with me that I let this happen?
