Short Story III Indian Summer.

Author Lisa Peacock

Cynthia Buckingham makes documentaries for TV. Making one about and Indian Brothel sounded a good idea, but things go terribly wrong for Cynthia, especially as she can’t speak the language.

Hi I’m Cynthia Buckingham, you might know me from my documentary series on TV. Yes that’s right, the one’s that are a little risqué. I take you behind the scenes of some of the more seedy, and not so seedy lifestyles. Like Native Wives for one, I get into the part and live with the native tribes, to see what it is like living the life of a tribal wife. Also the likes of “The Life of a Geisha Girl” We are investigative as well, trying to uncover the crooks and low life of our planet, following the drug trails. I’ve never as of yet had to have sex with any of the guys…like the tribal elders, not that the men haven’t tried, they would have loved to get me into bed, or marry them…mind being so close to some of these guys it’s very tempting, but being surrounded by camera crew and support team…it can be a tad difficult. It’s a hard job…but hey, as they say someone has to do it.

One of the producers came up with a brilliant idea. “Hey how about we do a doc, on an Indian brothel…not one of those up market brothels, but the ones that operate out in the wop, wops…those real seedy ones. We’ve heard some real scary stories about them. I recon one of them would be good to report on”

The consensus of opinion seemed to favour it. Me, well I was up for almost anything…I mean how hard or worse could it be than some of the other documentaries I’d made.

“So I guess you want me to take the part as a prostitute, and live along side them as one of them…is that right?” I asked the producer.

“Yeah that’s about it Cynthia, it’s not a problem is it, you’ve done worse?”

“No…no problem Chad…you know me, I’m up for most things…just as long as I don’t have to open my legs for any guy”

“Have you had to yet…god almighty Cynthia, you’ll be surrounded by the crew, you’ll be as safe as houses…trust me”

Chad was sounding like a car salesman, trying to sell me some shoddy second hand car.

“You’re right…what possibly could go wrong…. let’s do it?”

The producers and staff got the ball rolling, and eventually an out of the way brothel was located, and yes it was way out in the wop wops.

We gathered and packed what we thought would be needed, if we needed more we would pick it up in India. It was hot and smelly when we landed. Stepping from the plane, it was stepping from a fridge into an oven…people, I’d never seen so many people, and animals, cows, I had to be careful about cows…I couldn’t defile the cow…it was a sacred animal, and the people would probably tear you apart if you ever harmed one.

We’d booked into a hotel for our first night. At least we had a good clean bed, hot water, good showers, and good service. This of course was where most of the tourists came to…we had an intrepid journey ahead of us…a long intrepid journey ahead of us.

Next morning we made an early start, it was hot…bloody hot. It was hustle, bustle and noise everywhere. The city smells were like no other smells, in any other city I had ever visited, making documentaries. When I saw the bus, that was to transport us, equipment and all, I shuddered.

“You are joking Chad…we’re never going to make it, not in that death trap?” I said.

“Relax Cynthia, you do worry so…it’s a good Toyota…it’ll get us there don’t worry”

Yeah like don’t worry, but I was worried, air conditioning was courtesy of open windows…the faster you went, the better the air flow…well I’m sure that is what the driver thought.

We bumped, jogged and dodged our way out of the city and onto the open highway.

The driver seemed hell bent on breaking all records for getting us to our next final destination…for eight long and terrifying hours, we hung on for dear life. Corners, cliff drops, whatever did not deter him…it was one speed…flat out. Thankfully we made it, in one piece as well.

I stretched and massaged my bruised and aching muscles, at the same time taking in the view and smells of my new home for the next two weeks. Although not as big as the last city, it was a town of some considerable people. It was still hot, and the places looked somewhat squalid, although the people themselves seemed clean and well dressed…perhaps not expensive dressings but new, casual.

There was a steel mill some fifty or so miles from the town. The mill employed most of the male community. My research told me that this was where most of the brothels clients came from. In search of work, this is where they headed, leaving families at home, whilst they earned money to support them…of course some of that hard earned money, went toward servicing their other needs. Hence the brothel.

The brothel was on the main street, made of a mixture of part concrete, and half wood. Like most of the buildings in the town, it was in dire need of some TLC.

Two very young girls and an older woman who turned out to be the “Mother” for want of a better word, greeted us at reception, she was the head one. Looking after the girls and making sure they carried out their “Duties”.

“Ah welcome…welcome” she cried, as the team trooped through the doors.

“You must be our new girl…is that right?” she asked of me. It was a reasonable assumption seeing as I was the only female in the group.

I smiled and said yes I was…but emphasized not a working girl.

She looked me over, head to toe. “Humph…pity, we could get good money for you” smiling. My dark hair was the only thing I had in common with these girls, my skin was white and not brown…perhaps I should have taken some time out and got myself a suntan.

The crew had booked accommodation across the street, not the Hilton by a long way, but certainly better than that of my own. As I was to be part of the brothel for a fortnight and one of the girls. I was to bed down on the premises. I shared a small room with two other girls, in a very small cramped area.

In all there was fifteen of us…the other fourteen would of course be carrying out their “Duties” I would observe from a discreet distance, not the actual activity mind you, just the coming and goings of the men, they meeting up with the girl of their choice and taking them to one of the four main bedrooms that were contained within the brothel…. naturally the door would close on them, once inside…nature would take its course and we would pick up the story, when the man and girl had concluded the business.

In order that I blend in, I would be dressed in more traditional clothing. I must say I love the glorious colours of their dresses…a rather nice shade of blue was decided upon for me. My own clothes were discarded, retaining only bra and knickers, the girls helped me dress. Whow I loved what I saw, having rid myself of jeans and top, I now felt like a woman again…just as long as the clients didn’t get any ideas about screwing me.

We set up a daily routine, interviewing the girls, following their work…in fact anything that we hoped would interest the viewer. What we really wanted to convey was how young the girls coped, I felt sure that a couple should still be at school, but they assured me they were of the legal age, although I’m not sure they had a legal age. Cash strapped parents had sold a few to the brothel … I felt like the elder sister.

Our sleeping and working conditions were pretty awful…inside the building was a little like outside…dirty and squalid, they did the best they could, clothing as always was washed, each and every day…no washing machines though…. cold water…a bar of soap and a stone. I found the life hard going and was glad I only had to do it for two weeks, plus I didn’t get fucked by some rather suspect looking guy, sure there were the young good looking ones, but not all were like that…but then I guess that was the nature of the business.

There wasn’t much doing on the fifth day, mother superior decided to give the girls some time off, and as there was going to be a bus load of mill workers the following day, now was as good a time as any for time out, something they rarely received.

“We’ll go with them, follow them around, show how they spend time away from the brothel, not much point in hanging around here” said Chad.

“There won’t be anyone turning up?” I asked.

“No…no my dear…if they do just tell them to come back tomorrow…I’ll leave one of the girls with you…we’ll be back tonight”

Well having one of the girls with me should be ok; at least she’ll be able to speak the language. They all packed into the mini bus and left…seeing the state of the old bus, brought back memories of coming out here and I was glad I was not going with them.

I found what was the most comfortable chair, made a cuppa, and settled in to a good book. I hadn’t been able to read since leaving home, this was a golden opportunity.

I heard voices coming from one of the rooms; it was Baruni, the girl that had been left behind, and a male. When I went to investigate, she told me it was her boyfriend, and asked if it would be ok for her to spend a little time with him, they never really had the chance to get away together, today would be ideal, with mother and the girls gone

What could I say, it seemed quiet enough, there would be no need to tell mother that Baruni had spent time away. “Ok” I said, “Make sure you’re back before the others. Right”

“Oh yes…yes…thank you Cynthia…thank you” she said excitedly, then taking her boyfriends hand she led him out of the building

I settled back to another cuppa and my book. I couldn’t say it was quiet, the noise from the people and traffic outside resonated throughout the building inside.

Ten minutes must have passed, when I heard was obviously an old bus drawing up outside.

Oh shit…I thought, they’re back already and I’ve let Baruni off for the day…we are in a deep pile of shit. Well I’ll take full responsibility for it.

The thing is when I got to the door by reception; it was a busload of steel workers… in rather festive mood.

Like a flood of water they all rushed in, shouting and dancing.

“Sorry guys…sorry, we are closed for the day, come back tomorrow” I tried shouting above the din. Naturally no one could understand me.

“Rupees…rupees, many rupees” one guy shouted, laying down a great bundle of rupees.

“No, no you don’t understand…we are closed, not today, you come back tomorrow”

“Rupees, rupees…look” he said, indicating the bundle of rupees “All of us” his arm sweeping the other men from the bus.

Shit, where’s Baruni…I need Baruni to explain to them.

The chanting continued, and a couple went in search for the other girls. When they returned it was obvious they were telling the others that there were no girls here…apart from me…all eyes turned toward me.

“Oh shit…oh shit…shit…shit” I thought, eying the sea of staring faces. Suddenly I found myself in the middle of a group of randy men, with a month or so of built up frustration that needed to be relieved.

“No guys…no you don’t understand” No they could not understand, here they were at a brothel, all ready for some action, one woman dressed in sari, standing at reception. They were putting it all together. Brothel, reception, woman…prostitute. In the absence of anyone else, I was it. My sari was being torn from me, as they hustled me toward one of the bedrooms, my breasts, ass and cunt had that many hands grabbing at them, it was like trying to stop a centipede, I tried in vain to hold on to my sari.

“No…hey…guys…stop…oh shit” I shouted, by the time we had reached the bedroom, there was a trail of clothing, the remnants of my sari, lying in disarray on the floor behind us. I was down to pants and bra only.

“STOP, WHOWA” I shouted at the top of my voice. Surprise, surprise, this did the trick. All waited for me to say something.

I had to convey to them that I was only here to make a documentary, and that I was not actually a prostitute.

“Now…let me explain” I said confidently and quietly. “I” indicating, me. “TV maker” “We”…. “Make documentary” slowly drawing out the words. I don’t know why people do that they still can’t understand you.

“We, m—a—k—e m—o—v—I—e” and did a camera action with my hands. Wrong move, definitely wrong move.

There was a brief moment when they all looked and conferred with one another.

“Ar…yes…yes” nodding heads.

At last they understand.

“Movie…movie” the lead guy repeated and pointed at me.

“Yes…yes, you stupid fuck’n idiots. At last” I said nodding.

Suddenly I was thrown on the bed, many willing and eager hands tore my knickers off, allowing them a good view of my cunt, the very object they had come here for…well I guess one was better than none, the only thing is they would all have to share it around.

Oh shit, this is not good, not good at all, where’s your crew when you need them?

“Movie, movie” they were chanting, as they pointed their cameras at me. It would seem, modern technology was even here, out in the wop wops. Perhaps they didn’t earn a fortune, but a digital camera, was a must to own.

“Oh shit no, they think I want them to make a porn movie” so who’s the stupid fuck’n idiot now eh?

The spokesman guy was hurriedly undoing his belt, unzipping his fly and pulling down his trousers, eager to be the first inside me.

Oh my god, he wasn’t the last in the closet when cocks were handed out; it was big, thick, hard and brown, and heading in my direction.

More hands grabbed my ankles and legs, pulling and holding them apart.

“Wait…wait” I shouted again. I thought if he’s gona put that thing inside me, at least he’s got to put a condom on. I don’t want him and all the others filling me up with cum.

“Condom…where’s your condom” I asked.

There was a look of bewilderment from him and the others.

“Condom…condom?” there were shrugs all round, what is a condom?.

“No condom” he said.

“Ahhhhhhh, oh fuck’n hell” I screamed as he entered me, pushing his cock right up to the hilt…only his balls showing. Not only did the thing look big, it felt big, as it opened me up. Cameras flashed pictures were being taken. I guessed the result would be posted on the net, pretty soon. I only hoped my own audience didn’t get to see it.

He smiled at me, as his ass began to hump up and down. “Good eh…good?” he said. Probably one of the few words he knew or understood in English.

“Please guys…one at a time…. one at a time…oh…yeah…ouch that hurt” The centipede was at work, hands were all over my body, inside my bra, feeling and squeezing my tits…then my bra was literally, ripped from my body amid shouts and laughter. I never did find that bra, or my pants. It was virtually impossible to see which hand belonged to whom, and all the time, the guy inside me, was humping, humping, humping. His groaning and moaning, mixed in with the excited chatter of his colleagues, plus the outside noises of people and traffic, and on top of that it was so bloody hot…it was all doing my head in.

The guy fucking me, gave an extra full inward thrust.

“Oh…. ahhhh” I screamed. “Take it easy down there noddy” fuck, fuck, fuck. Accompanied with a smile and some words I could not understand.

I surveyed the surrounding sea of faces. They were all packed into this one small room, each jostling for a better position, a better view. It seemed to go on forever.

“Oh god” I thought. “If this is number one, how am I going to feel after all of them had fucked me?”

The initial part over, they were starting to get down to business. I watched those nearest me. Unbuckling belts and unzipping fly’s, and stepping out of their jeans. A ring of upright brown cocks surrounded me.

“Oh shit” I murmured for the hundredth time. Hump, hump, hump.

The air was hot; there was a mixture of odors in it. Male body odor, curry, and the outside smells. I was perspiring profusely. The many hands that had been holding my legs apart, were now gone, there was little point in trying to close them up again. I drew up my knees, and settled back into the wet sheets…wet from my and others perspiration

A sudden cry and flowing sperm, brought my attention back to the guy fucking me. He was cuming, and cuming profusely. A months pent up frustration suddenly being released into me.

He pulled out, and stepped back, smiling and making some comment to the others…god I wish I could understand Hindu, or whatever language they communicated in.

There was an argument on who was going to be next, as they pushed and shoved each other.

“Hey…hey guys, no fighting, please…. you” I nodded to one of them, indicating him next. He gave the other guy a self-satisfied grin, and placed his body between my legs.

He gave his cock a few helping strokes, pumping it up nice and hard, before thrusting it inside me, hump…hump…hump.

I was now getting requests from all quarters. Indications for me to suck cock…well it was another way of dealing with them all, as I alternated from one cock to another. Some cum in my mouth, the taste of cum doesn’t alter…it all tastes bloody awful to me. Others seemed to enjoy and be content to masturbate and ejaculate all over my body, or my face. Their cum mingled with my sweat, and began to trickle down my body. God I need some air…it was so hot.

Trying to keep count on numbers and just who had fucked me was impossible, was I up to number six or seven…it just seemed like one big fuck.

There still seemed as many guys in the room now as there had been…when, god when did we start? I seemed to have been here on my back and my legs apart for hours…or did it just seem that way.

Another guy stepped up to take that last guys place. He was trying to convey something to me. Arms and hands waiving in the air. I realized he wanted to turn over on to my belly. There were many willing hands to help me, the grabbing and fondling of my tits had never faltered, they seemed as attracted to them, as they were my cunt.

Hot hands took a firm grip of my butt, pulling it upward. More sign language.

“Oh shit guy’s, give me a brake…. I’m only one woman”

“Oh up on all fours is that it?” Well I guessed that’s what he wanted. I took up the stance on all fours, keeping my legs apart…he was going to take me from behind.

With his hands around my waist, he pulled me toward him, and toward his hard shaft. I felt it brush my thigh first, then the head against my slit….and then he was inside me

Hump, hump…slap, slap. Flesh against flesh, fuck…fuck…fuck. The window to my left was wide open, it overlooked the back alley. The dirty tattered lace curtain, gave a slight flutter as a mild breeze entered the room…it had little or no cooling effect. I could still hear the outside world, as it went about its business. A stiff cock was presented to me in order that I may suck it. I made no effort to see who the owner was, I merely opened my mouth, and allowed him to push it inside. Like all the other cocks so far, it was of good size and girth, the owner’s hips, swaying back and forth. He seemed to be trying to force it down my throat, I gagged once or twice, but eventually there was an explosion, warm acrid tasting fluid filled my mouth, what I could not swallow, spilled out and ran down my chin. At the same time an explosion was happening at the other end, and a river of warm sticky cum, was filling my cunt.

The sun went passed mid day, and the heat intensified, at long last there was but a handful left in that small room. The bed still squeaked, jolted and groaned its protests, as yet another guy fucked me. The noise of the squeaky bed had been continuous from the outset…four more to go…oh thank you god…thank you. I said to myself.

Three left, they were all friends, and each waited for the other to finish fucking me.

The last one had already fucked me…but he wanted more. It was obvious his friends were trying to persuade him to leave… I could not understand the language but the hand and body gestures, suggested this was so…but he was adamant…it would probably be another month, before he would be able to vent his pent up frustrations on a woman…at present, I was that woman.

I didn’t move, I just held my doggie style position and watched as he once again unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and removed his rather large erection…hell what was one more out of….a bus load, I’d just serviced a bus load.

He was making the most of it, running his hands over my body, feeling, squeezing, cupping my breasts, and playing my now hard nipples. He pushed me down, into the mattress, the bed continuing to squeak and grown with every thrust of his body. Hump…hump…hump. Squeak…squeak…squeak. Should any one be able to hear it, it would be obvious to them, what was going on…a squeaking bed, didn’t take much imagination.

A shout from his friends, no doubt telling him to hurry…his reply, hump, hump, hump. Faster now, he wanted to get that oh so good feeling, wanted to feel his one last orgasm. He humped and fucked, faster and faster…. And then a shout, a groan…and then…. He was cuming.

Once he’d unloaded himself, he wasted no time, he had to hurry. He’d had two good fucks, he was satisfied…in a months time he’d be able to do it all again. He threw some extra rupees in my direction, to cover the extra fuck, slapped my ass, made some comment, (maybe thank you, or I’ll see you) and hurried after his friends.

There was the sound of the bus starting up, the belching of black smoke, grinding of gears, and it slowly mingled with other traffic and was gone.

I just lay face down on the bed, I couldn’t and didn’t want to move. My plundered, used, bruised and abused body was soar all over, none more than my cunt. I could feel the many deposits of cum starting to ooze from it, and trickle down to the bed sheets. Sheets that were wet from perspiration and from sticky cum.

For about ten minutes I just lay there, in the heat of the room, listening to the outside noises, and watching the tattered curtain, flicker in the breeze. I felt like a boxer, lying battered on the canvass, maybe down…but not out. I slowly pulled myself up, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Soon the girls and crewmembers would be returning, not to mention Baruni, god where the hell was she. The clock said 3pm…the bus and men had arrived at 10am…god could it be…that’s five hours of entertaining those guys…five hours of fucking, neither wonder my cunt felt sore.

First things first. There was no signs of my knickers and bra, why was I not surprised. I picked up the rupees, scattered on the bed beside me, and then followed the trail of the pieces of my sari back to the reception area. I collected the rest of the rupees, and folded them all together on a bundle.

Turning on the meager shower, at the very least the water was always warm, but even so, right now it felt good. I did my best to wash off the now dried cum and cum odor from my body…using my fingers I douched my pussy, cleansing the walls of my vagina. God I just prayed none of them had some great disease…like HIV…I’d make sure of a test when I got home…I also hoped my birth control pills were working…an Indian baby boy or girl was not on my itinerary of things to do just now. Now cleansed and feeling somewhat revived. I put on clean underwear, made the best of my sari. Ripped the soiled sheets from the bed and replaced them with clean ones.

I took a quick look around the establishment….all seemed in order, there was nothing more I could do…I returned to reading and drinking tea…hell where was Baruni?

In answer to my question, a few minutes later she came through the door, before I could ask her where the hell she’d been, she was apologizing, saying she was having such a marvelous time she had completely lost track of time.

“Yeah not half a good a time as I was having” I thought.

“Anything happened” she asked.

“No…nothing…quiet as the grave…why do you ask?”

“Oh no reason…just in case I need an alibi, should mother ask”

“Well you can tell her…it’s been a quiet day” I took a sip of tea, eased my sore cunt on the chair, and returned to my book.

The girls and crew were late in getting back, apparently their trusty bus had broken down, and it took an hour to fix it. Time for the night business was getting near, the crew set up their equipment, making ready to film the girls in action again. Had they been on hand this afternoon, they could have had all the action they ever dreamed of to film…but I’m really glad they weren’t.

Two weeks of filming, seemed to come and go so quick. We were now packing up, and getting ready to return to civilization. Hot showers, fine cuisine and fine wines…oh god…will I be glad. I must say, it was like no other series we have ever done, I managed to experience first hand what it was like to be a prostitute in an Indian brothel, something, that was never supposed to be part of the plan.

The old bus was loaded and ready to go. Another long dangerous journey lay ahead, but at least we were heading home.

The money? What about the rupees you ask?

Well I got hold of fourteen envelopes, divided the money into equal amounts and placed each amount into the envelopes, and on leaving handed them to the girls.

“A bonus from me” I told them. I received fourteen grateful hugs.

Chad’s eyebrow arched in a question. I knew he was wondering where the money came from.

“Don’t ask” I said “It would make a great story…. but not today… maybe never”