Taming Sayali Ch. 07

Synopsis: Sayali, a beautiful but undisciplined Indian teenager, encounters a personal tutor who is interested in taming her spirit for his own purposes, rather than to please her mother, who also has designs on him.

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That evening as I enjoyed Neleema's naked body, tonguing her musky cunt as it drizzled a steady stream of salty-sweet liquid that I lapped up like a dog, she announced that on the morrow she would be having a visitor, Kanan Jorsay, come to discuss a possible arrangement involving her in the rehabilitation of Sayali. The speed at which that exotic creature had responded to my suggestion surprised and excited me. Neleema did not spare me from her sarcasm when it came to any discussion involving Sayali's former teacher. There could be no doubt that she was extremely suspicious of the teacher's motive for wanting to become a part of my plan for her daughter. I was teased mercilessly as I tried to resume my attention to her warm body, running my tongue up and down the wet trench that divided her fat cunt lips.

"Neither you nor she is fooling me for a moment. You want her and I think she wants Sayali and also perhaps you as well. However that is only secondary to her prime objective, my daughter. I sincerely doubt that her plans and yours are compatible in the long run. This is the risk you must face if she joins this little conspiracy." Her insight was amazingly accurate for one who had not been involved in the lengthy discussions that had taken place between Kanan and I. It did give me pause, but it still made a great deal of sense to me. Beside, the possibility of some kind of relationship with that bird-like woman still was a prospect that excited and at the same time troubled me. If the current triangle was a tightrope walk, what would another side add to the complexity?

The next morning I raised Sayali from the pit and let her hang from the hoist in the hot sun. I took a quick look at her soft longing flesh, but tried to avoid making eye-contact because I didn't want to get drawn into playing with her. Leaving her there, I went off to the city to do some shopping for additional items that could be used to tame this beautiful nineteen-year old. Naturally I returned to that little shop where I had purchased the flogger and paddle. The owner recognized me immediately and inquired whether my purchases had been satisfactory. I smiled and nodded, watching his face light up. I knew he wanted more details than just a nod, but I decided to use that as a bargaining chip when it came down to negotiating for whatever I might want to buy.

I wandered through the store noting the magazines dedicated to all forms of sexual expression and deviance. For some reason I stopped to stare at the cover of one lurid magazine showing two Indian women entwined, each lapping the other's genitals. One was on the plump side with impressive breasts, while the other was darker and very thin. I quickly replaced them with Neleema and Kanan, and what I had unconsciously done set me aback. Of course, the ultimate solution to the problem!

I could have Sayali to myself while her mother and teacher enjoyed each other. Perhaps there would be times when we would rearrange our couplings. The thought of watching Kanan and Sayali licking each other's genitals made me hard. My dreaming was interrupted by the proprietor, inquiring whether I might wish to purchase a new video featuring two of the most attractive lesbians now working. I declined with thanks and then asked him if he could recommend something designed exclusively for whipping a woman's cunt.

He immediately became animated, almost lively. "The customer wants to tame the untameable. He seeks to instill fear into the delta of Venus, the pudenda, the cunt! There are many tools for this purpose, some as old as before man could write or do all those things that made them civilized creatures, others reeking with the trappings of modern technology, computer designed, using space age materials. All for a single purpose: to produce pain in the seat of a woman's being so that she will subject herself to the male of the species. Be very sure that this is what you seek, because the degree of success does not depend upon the implement, but the motive for its use. A simple leather strap wielded with the correct intentions can tame the most fractious of women. A magic wand capable of uniformly covering the cunt with the fires of hell cannot succeed if the intentions of its user are not true to his needs."

This burst of dazzling insight and timeless wisdom rocked me back upon my heels. What were my intentions? Were they true or poisoned by my own personal agenda for this lithe, shapely creature with those marvelous breasts, tapering thighs, a belly perfect in its roundness yet firm to the touch and buttocks that looked and tasted like the loaves of steaming bread exiting from earthen ovens that went back thousands of years? I was not able to answer his question to my satisfaction and the triumphant look on his face told me he knew that. I held my hands outstretched, palms up and open, the sign of indecision or doubt. He smiled and shrugged, then beckoned for me to follow him as he headed for another area deep within the recesses of his shop.

When we arrived at our destination, he took out a key and opened a large wooden display box revealing a collection of handcrafted whips. He looked toward me and smiled, then spoke. I hung on every word. "These are the ones designed to fill the trench without damaging the walls that contain it. Once the user controls the whip, he may inflict terrible pain on the woman's most private preserve. Without truly understanding the power of these implements, a man may make her unavailable for penetration for weeks or even months. What does it gain one to conquer the enemy's city but be unable to use it for his own ends? Of course there are those who have given up the idea of keeping their woman faithful and substitute her loss of availability to all as a victory for themselves. How foolish is that man to destroy everything and salvage nothing. It is better in the beginning to allow the woman to lightly taste the fruits of her deceit rather than force her to gorge on them. One stroke is more powerful than twenty, and two may overcome the most stubborn of their kind if spaced properly."

In sober reflection of what I heard, it was obvious that much of what he said was mere platitudes, common sense wrapped in brightly colored paper. But hidden within this plethora of words were a few jewels that did not become obvious until I confronted Sayali with my carefully chosen whip in hand. Even the selection process forced me to reveal more than I wished to this old man. He spoke of young flesh as opposed to that more seasoned. The former able to absorb more and recover quickly for a further dose while the more seasoned demanded a carefully planned set of smaller punishments that acting together caused terrible pain, but left the offending flesh still able to handle a slightly smaller set perhaps a bit later than one younger, but equally effective in changing her deportment. He explained the subtle distinctions between woman of the same age who were married, being courted or playing the field. The former responded more quickly to an application of force than those still free of commitment, perhaps not so surprising.

With all this information rattling around in my head I made my choice. I selected a round, snake-like strand with a heft to it. This could do some serious damage if wielded improperly, but in the right hands it would be an effective argument against whatever behavior was being discussed between the woman, and me. I found myself becoming erect as I hefted the whip, imagining that it was biting into Sayali's fresh fleshed cunt, splattering her sex juices to the wind. My erection grew even more sustained when Sayali changed into Kanan, thighs eagerly spread to absorb my anger with her pain. Finally I reached the point that unless I diverted my thoughts I would explode, thus forcing away the image of Neleema, bound to our bed with an enigmatic smile on her face as the lash split her fat lipped cunt. My struggles were not lost to the shop's owner.

When I returned to the outside world I was amazed to discover that many hours had gone by. It would be wise for me to begin my journey back to Neleema's home in hopes of encountering Kanan before she took her leave. I mounted my bicycle and joined the throngs of riders, pumping my legs automatically as I reviewed all I had experienced today. By the time I reached my destination, some new and more radical thoughts had begun to surface, almost unbidden. The house was deserted, so I made for the courtyard where Sayali was being kept. I caught the trio unawares, thus I could observe them without revealing myself. Sayali was hanging from her wrists, her sweaty body still attached to the hoist which had been moved to keep her body cooking in the still brutal rays of the sun. From where I was standing I could clearly see the many fresh marks that had been made on her naked body, especially concentrated on her firm breasts and that plump triangle below.

Presently Neleema was standing behind her daughter and was using the weighted paddle to smash her bottom as Kanan mercilessly drilled the girl on the subject of the Sepoy Rebellion. "What year did the rebellion begin?" Sayali's chin rested on the hollow near her throat, eyes closed and breasts heaving and falling as if she were running a race. I heard the paddle explode against her bare flesh and watched the girl twitch and try to shake off the pain in the same manner that a horse would attempt to shed flies.

"Answer me you insolent girl or your mother will wallop that plump bottom until it looks as if you were an African tribeswoman." To emphasize her point, she nodded to Neleema who laid another ferocious hit to her daughter's rump.

Sayali groaned and whispered in a voice evidently parched from lack of water, "1857, it started in 1857."

The dark skinned woman smiled grimly and asked, "When did it end?"

The girl sighed and croaked, "1858, no 1859, I think."

Kanan cleared her throat, a sign of her growing irritation with Sayali's response. "Let me have the flogger again, this impudent young animal needs another taste of its magic." Neleema smiled and handed over the leather club-like implement that Sayali had obviously experienced quite often today. Kanan was still not very skilled with the flogger, but she rained a series of vicious hits on the girl's breasts, some striking square, others sliding from Sayali's dripping flesh. Kanan paused and looked to Neleema for some kind of signal. As soon as Sayali's mother nodded, Kanan began using the flogger on Sayali's swollen cunt, smashing her blood bloated lips flat and splitting open her slit with more than one blow. The girl weathered the storm and hung there trying to recover her composure, her body shaking and twitching from the pain that radiated from her bruised crotch. It was then that I chose to announce myself, catching the two women by surprise.

"You seem to be getting along famously, I'm delighted. However poor Sayali looks a bit bedraggled. I hope you haven't been overdoing it in your zeal to tame this naughty impish young woman. I know from personal experience that a brute force approach is not the answer for this one. She must be trained slowly and very carefully, her taming will take a great deal of time and energy on the part of us all."

Both of them were caught off guard by my sudden appearance and as I spoke they exchanged nervous glances. I was surprised that Kanan seemed a bit unsure of herself, after all she had gained the support of Neleema in this project, and this was critical to her cause. She certainly knew I was on her side as well. I approached Sayali and took in the damage they had produced. I was sorely tempted to squeeze those bruised breasts to hear her squeal in pain. I was close enough to smell her scent through the dirt and sweat that covered her.

To my amazement I also detected the smell of her cunt's secretions. I looked carefully at her shaven vulva, swollen from the brutal beatings she had endured today, and saw that it was oozing a dribble of cunt juice, no doubt about that. The reason for this obvious display of sexual excitement was a mystery to me. Was there something between her and Kanan that I knew nothing about? Was she becoming addicted to the pain she was experiencing daily? Did it have anything to do with my appearance? Please let that be true, I thought. I decided to take command of the situation immediately, realizing that any hesitation on my part could spell trouble for my plans for the girl.

As I turned to face the ladies, I was confronted by a challenge from Kanan. With a small smile she held out the flogger she had been using to beat Sayali's breasts and cunt and offered to let me have a crack at the little tramp. She sugar coated her foray by complimenting me on the pit and suggesting that Sayali needed to feel my male strength brought to bear on her. I refused to take the bait and instead asked a few pointed questions.

"From the looks of your student, it has been some time since she has had any water. It is very difficult to concentrate when one is parched and exposed to the rays of the Indian summer sun as well. Has the girl been hanging here all day? That would have been a serious mistake if true. She is many things, but a dumb brute is not one of them. I would suggest, no, I insist that she be given something to drink, be fed, and then allowed to rest in the shade before being returned to the pit for the evening. I presume that Ms Jorsay is joining us for dinner. There is much for the three of us to discuss about my plan."

The two of them fell all over each other trying to respond as quickly as possible to my orders. I had regained control of the situation for the moment. I intended to solidify it before another day dawned. From the corner of my eye I could see a little grin crossing the face of my student, not theirs. There was hope yet for my quest to tame this dusky sex goddess.