Krithika Studies Overseas

Krithika felt completely humiliated when she walked onto her college campus for the first time. It seemed like every girl there but her was wearing short skirts, short dresses, little shorts, low cut tops, and she was the only one dressed like an idiot and sweating nonstop in her frumpy top and too-baggy jeans. It had been a battle just to bring the jeans – her dad had forcibly packed for her after he looked through her luggage and found it packed with clothes he didn't even approve of her buying in the first place back in India, so her suitcases had been filled with embarrassing long dresses and Indian stuff. It wasn't as if anything she was packing was so revealing, her dad just barely tolerated western clothes at all, let alone remotely modern ones. When she had stupidly worn a pair of leggings in front of him at home he had her take them off then cut them up and threw them away.

So she was arriving at college looking exactly like the dowdy, stereotypical Indian student she had tried so hard not to be! She had only made it through the last few years by daydreaming about how different her life would be once she got to study overseas, and she thought she had done her research. It seemed like a myth, how revealingly Western girls dressed in movies and TV, the way no one in India really dressed like Bollywood, but she seemed the only girl there not exposing more skin than she was covering up.

There was some orientation event going on, but it was probably skippable and she was definitely feeling too humiliated to go. She would go home to her flat and try to work out a budget so that she could get some new clothes – her dad was (deliberately, she suspected) only sending her enough for food and necessities to make sure she wasn't having any fun or anything. He only let her study overseas so he could brag about it to his friends; when she was in India he sent her to conservative all-girls schools and allowed her to have no contact with boys, and he was trying to keep that up as best as he could while she was here by making her live off campus with a bunch of other Indian students instead of staying in a dorm. She didn't think this would be so bad, since of course they'd all be as excited to get out and experience life as her, right? But, horrifyingly, they all seemed to want even less contact with non-Indians than they were having, and barely left the house except to study.

Krithika tried to walk through campus, or at least find a little loop somewhere so she could turn around and walk back out without just changing direction and looking like a fool, but she quickly lost her way. She found herself in a courtyard that only had one other exit, a building that she strode up to very decisively, trying to seem like she knew what she was doing, but when she tried the door it was locked. There was a laugh from behind her. She turned to see a white boy – tall, sorta cute, maybe a few years older than she was – grinning at her, not mean-spiritedly, but she still blushed.

"Lost?" He asked, putting his book to the side.

"Maybe," she replied, trying and failing to sound confident. "I'm looking for the way out."

"It's the way you came." He grinned again. "If you're new, you should go to this orientation thing they're having. I can show you where it is, if you want."

"Do I have to go?"

"I mean, I'm not making you." He kept smiling and making her blush! It was humiliating, she could tell he was thinking she was just a silly foreign girl who didn't know anything.

"I just mean, I came for it, but I would rather go home."

"Why's that?"

"It- It's embarrassing!" Oh god, what an idiot she was making herself out to be.

"Aww, don't be embarrassed. Come on, sit over here." He shifted over on the bench and Krithika hesitantly approached him and sat down. "If you told me it's embarrassing, that means you want to talk about it. I'm James, by the way."

She started to tell him, at first in only the vaguest details and trying to seem very casual and cool about it, but as she went on she found herself spilling out everything to him. He kept nodding, and looking at her with his cute blue eyes, and she felt so comfortable talking to him it wasn't until she was finished she got embarrassed over how emotional she'd been.

"Well, I think you might be in luck. I live off-campus, a girl who used to live with us just moved out and left a bunch of her clothes, and she was tiny like you."

Krithika blushed – she had felt short even in India at barely five foot tall, and here she really did feel tiny. It was a little hard to get clothes to fit right though, since she was very skinny except for her hips and embarrassingly large butt, which was way too prominent in tight clothes.

"So what size are you?" James asked.

"American size? Size six..." Krithika paused. "Well, my parents would make me buy size six. But I've tried size four and it fits better, maybe. Sometimes size two, but maybe that's a little..." She blushed, embarrassed to be spilling out such stuff to a total stranger."

"A little showoffy?" He grinned and she blushed even harder.

"I suppose... But I don't know what's good here, what's normal."

"Well, I think a lot of them are size two, size four, so you should come by and try them out.

"I don't know... Are you sure it's fine to take them? And I just met you!"

"Positive. And that's just how college is, you meet people."

Krithika smiled. She felt lucky to have met this guy, even if the clothes thing didn't work out – she was like a proper Western college girl! "Thank you so much! I feel so silly, I've been worrying since I got here I'll be like, the lame Indian girl, you know, and no one will want to hang out with me."

"I'm sure you don't have anything to worry about. I mean, some Indian girls are like that, you know, frumpy clothing and body hair. But I can tell you're not like that."

She laughed, making a mental note to shave all over as soon as possible. They chatted a little more; she got his address and they swapped phone numbers, though she wasn't 100% sure this was fine and not abnormally flirty or anything.

On the way home she bought a razor. She spent the rest of the afternoon in her room, staring unfocusedly at textbooks and thinking about James and tomorrow and whether she was overthinking about James and tomorrow. After her shower she shaved in all the usual places and then, just to be completely safe, decided to shave just the top of her pubic hair, in case she was given some super low-waist pants or something. But it looked weird, and she'd put too much shaving gel on anyway, so she ended up shaving it all off. She sorta liked how it felt though, and that night she slept without any panties because it felt so nice, the bare skin against the nice clean sheet.

––––

The next morning she walked to James' house. She was a little embarrassed at having to wear Indian clothes there, but it was better than seeming dirty showing up in the same thing, and it wasn't like she was wearing a full sari or anything. Still, when he opened the door and looked her up and down, she blushed hard.

"That's a cute outfit," he said. "What do you call that?"

"Salwar Kameez..." Krithika replied sheepishly.

"Salwar Kameez... It's nice. Very colourful." He turned and walked inside a few paces. Krithika stood at the door awkwardly. He turned back to her with a slightly condescending expression. "You're allowed to come in."

She stepped in after him and he closed the door behind her. He led her into the main room of the flat, with a kitchen on one side and a few chairs and couches on the other, and walked her to a dining table on which several items of clothing were laid out. Krithika blushed; there was a tiny pair of shorts, a tiny skirt, and a couple of very small-looking tops.

"I don't know if I can wear these!" she protested.

"You might as well try them out, right?"

"I really don't know... I've never worn anything like these!" She held up the shorts and made a face. James laughed.

"They're pretty normal stuff here. You just try them on, show me what they look like, I'll let you know if it's too much or anything, alright?" He gave her that condescending look again.

After a bit more blushing, Krithika picked up the clothes and went to the bathroom to try them on. She felt naughty just stripping off in this strange boy's bathroom even though she had the door locked. First she tried the shorts, which she immediately decided were much much much too tight – not only could you see her whole butt, you could see a slight outline in the front...

She tossed them aside and tried the skirt, which was a lot shorter than any she'd tried on before but at least didn't define anything too much. She tried on both shirts; one covered her whole tummy but showed way too much of her boobs, and the other one showed off her whole tummy but at least she didn't feel like she was going to pop out of it. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt both horrified and a little excited – she looked like such a slut! It was crazy, she never thought she would dress like this, in a way that seemed revealing even by the standards of the girls at university. She would show them to James and if he didn't react too crazily or anything, she'd take them, probably never to wear them, but still, it couldn't hurt just to have them around.

When she stepped back out another boy was at the table talking with James, and they both turned to her. This new guy was leering at her, as overtly as guys did on the street back in India. Krithika's face burned and she felt she'd die of shame.

"Krithika," James said, "This here's Matt. I live with him, and a couple other guys."

"Hi Krithika," Matt said. He seemed sort of... well, filthy. He was even taller than James, but he was a lot fatter – probably stronger, too, but overweight in that not-caring-at-all way – and he hadn't shaved in a week or two, and he wore sweat-smelling shorts and singlet, both baggy, and he just generally seemed sort of gross, in that way those guys who are macho but not sexy-macho are.

"What do you think, Matt?" James grinned at him, but it was so different from how he smiled at her, not sweet at all.

"I think she's looking pretty fuckable, for a brown chick." Krithika scowled at him.

"You decided to take 'em, Krithka?" James asked.

"I don't know. I mean, no, I don't think so."

"Aww, cmon." James flipped back to sweet again. "I'm sorry Matt's a dick, I mean, he's a pig, he's scum, don't listen to him. He just means you look nice." He pulled out a chair for her, and hesitantly she walked over and sat down.

"I'll take them, I suppose, if no one else is taking them..." Krithika said, shifting in her seat. "I feel so guilty just taking them though, you're sure it's fine? There isn't anything I can do for you?"

"Why don't you get us some beer from the fridge?" Matt said.

"Why don't you get it?" she snapped, a little surprised herself how quickly her irritation with him was coming out. They both laughed, and she quickly started to feel embarrassed again.

"Cultural difference, cultural difference," James said. "I'm so sorry if it seemed rude, Krithika – Matt's sorry too, aren't you Matt?"

"I'm sorry," Matt said.

"We didn't think about how it might have come across, I guess it's different with guests in India, huh? In the West it's a kind of sign of trust, you know, intimacy, asking your guest to do little things for you. It's like you're not condescending to them, you're not acting like the master of the home who's gotta do everything. Do you see how that makes sense?"

"I suppose..."

Matt laughed. "Ai suhpoooose. That's a cute accent you got. I can think of some things I'd like to hear you say in it..."

Krithika shifted uncomfortably and looked at James, who smiled reassuringly and softly brushed her back with his hand. She got up and started walking to the fridge, feeling sure that Matt wasn't taking his eyes off her legs, which had never been so exposed in front of strange men. Still, it didn't bother her so much that James might be looking too. She had to squat down to get the beers out of the fridge without exposing her panties, and she wasn't 100% sure she managed that perfectly.

She took them back to the boys. Neither of them thanked her, she noted. They both took long swigs. Should she be here? She had never been alone with boys drinking, even if it was just beer. They were both looking at her, right at her, and their eyes were straying lower and lower. She crossed her arms over her bare midriff. Matt took a huge drink and chucked his now-empty beer can over his shoulder.

"What did you kids get up to today, anyway?" He asked.

"It's a funny story," James said. "Yesterday I told Krithika I had some clothes for her to try on, so this morning I went and bought the sluttiest clothes I could find. And she looks fucking great in them don't you think?"

Krithika's brown cheeks flushed with red. She couldn't believe it; she had never been so humiliated.

"Yeah, they're nice," Matt said. "But kind of a waste of money, don't you think?"

"Not at all – she can wear them every time she's around, and I reckon we want her around a lot. How does that sound, Krithika?"

"I'm never coming here again," Krithika said. "Ever. You're sick, you're both sick. I never knew anybody so cruel."

"We're not cruel," James said. "We're just helping you adjust, you're so innocent. We're helping you know what white boys are like."

"Maybe," Matt said, "we should show her what white boys are like."

"That's a damn good idea."

James put a hand on her thigh. She pulled away and went to get up but he was too fast- he moved closer to her and put an arm around her waist, holding her in place. She felt his hot, slightly hairy arm rub against her tummy as she struggled to get out. "Let me go, you fuck- you fucking creeps!"

"Krithika," James said slowly and calmly, stroking her hair with his free hand, "Are you going to be a good girl, or are you going to be a naughty, ungrateful little bitch?"

She couldn't think what to say for a second- why was she hesitating? Then she tried again to break out of his grip, as hard as she could, with no luck. "Let me go!" He started to squeeze her so tight it hurt. "Let me go!"

"A naughty little bitch, then." James suddenly pulled her out of her chair and roughly pushed her down onto table. She scrambled to push herself up but Matt, sitting opposite her, grabbed her hands and held them down on his end of the table. He grinned at her, still with that light playfulness like he was just teasing her. His hands were big and sweaty and strong. Krithika felt the fabric of her skirt fall on her back- James was looking at her panties! "Pink, nice," he said. She felt him cup her ass cheeks in his hands.

"Stop it!" she yelled, helplessly shaking in place on the table.

"And such a nice ass – let's see it properly." She felt him yank her panties down. Fuck, fuck, fuck- what we she going to do? James let out a whistle and placed his hands on her ass, circling them around and squeezing. "You little slut- did you shave before you came here? Matt, I can't wait to show you her pussy, she's got that little bald porn star cunt. And this ass- I didn't know Indian girls had asses like this- how did they fit an ass like that on a tiny little thing like you?" He smacked it, hard. Krithika yelped out in pain. Matt laughed, slightly stroking her hand with one of his fingers.

"Do they do this in India?" James asked.

"What?" Krithika asked, not thinking – fuck, she should have told him to fuck off, fuck.

James spanked her hard a couple more times. "That, dummy. Do they do it?" He raised his hand high- Smack! Krithika cried out, her ass burning.

"Stop it!"

Smack!

"Stop it!!" Krithika felt tears welling.

"Do they spank naughty girls in India?" James rubbed her already red, tender ass gently – then spanked her even harder.

"Yes!" Krithika cried out, just wanting him to stop.

"Then you know why I'm doing this?" He asked.

"Because I'm naughty- Ahh!" He had spanked her before she had even finished.

"That's obvious, I said it was for naughty girls, pay attention." He laid two painless, playful little slaps on each cheek. Matt laughed and squeezed her hands.

"Because I wanted to go- Ahh!"

"Not just that."

"Because I called you creeps!" Why was she doing what they said? Krithika had always thought she was a brave girl, a girl who held out under pressure, but now she found herself giving in without even thinking about it? It was so humiliating- and her ass felt so sore, and so hot.

"And are you sorry?"

"Yes!"

"Good girl." James gently stroked her pussy and Krithika moaned involuntarily. "Matt, come feel how wet this little brown slut is."

Matt stood up and walked behind Krithika. She felt his much larger finger rub her pussy with a lot less restraint, and she heard a noise, a loud shlick sound with every stroke – oh god, was she really so wet she could make that sound? Matt slipped a huge finger into her pussy and Krithika squealed and thrashed on the table. "Damn! You're dripping, whore." He rubbed her pussy roughly for a few seconds before walking back in front of Krithika and sliding the same finger between her lips, which, to her surprise, opened readily – she had assumed she would just have just automatically been clamping her jaw tight, as dumb as that sounded when she thought about it. She had tasted a little of her pussy before, but this was a lot more than she was used to. Matt started sliding the finger in and out slowly, and Krithika fell into the rhythm with him and began to suck it softly.

"Matt, how about you go grab that camera?" James said. Matt grinned, took his finger out of Krithika's mouth and started to walk to another room. A camera? Krithika was horrified- the worst, worst thing that could happen was a photo where she looked like such a slut getting out to people. But she was distracted from that thought by James' hands rubbing her ass, at first slowly, then shaking so violently she heard her cheeks smack loudly together and she let out a low moan. "You even moan in that cute accent," James said. "That long, low, Indian "o" sound – it's so goofy when it's some Indian guy's voice, but it's sorta cute when I can make it come out of you playing with you like a little fuckdoll. Get up off the table."

He took his hands off her and Krithika, after a few dazed seconds squirming on the table, staggered to her feet. Her panties slid down to her ankles.

"Do you know what I think about Indian girls, Krithika?" She shook her head no. He moved close to her and placed his hands on her waist. "I think it's funny how you all study to be engineers, doctors, lawyers, you're all sorta proud, you don't usually act slutty, but every time, you press just a little and under that you've just been waiting to be some guy's whore all along. Never Indian guys – I think you must like humiliating them. But you're willing slaves to the first white cock that comes along. So I'm wondering, is it cultural or are you biologically just perfect fucktoys?"

Krithika said nothing. She couldn't believe what she was hearing – how do you even say something like that? Of course, she disagreed, she was offended, but she didn't really feel that offence, it was sort of distant, abstract. But definitely, she disagreed, definitely. What did she say to it, though? She made a few noises but they didn't quite make it to fully formed words or ideas.

James slapped her, not too hard but enough she staggered back slightly and snapped out of her confused train of thought. "I always expect an answer, so learn that fast," he said. Matt walked back into the room with – oh no – a video camera, a pretty expensive looking one with a handle and a long microphone on top.