Enshrined — Chapter 06
By Mythical Traveller
The following day was a Wednesday. Simon awoke to the warm thrill of a skilled mouth wrapped around his cock, and the sight of a mess of long, black hair bobbing up and down upon his groin.
He and Chaarvi went on to spend the entire day in his apartment, living out their long-suppressed desires for one another. Blowjob, doggy-style, cowgirl, cunnilingus, spoons, 69, on the countertop, and good old-fashioned missionary; they indulged every whim that took them.
The reluctance they had both expressed during their meeting in the stairwell the previous day was nothing more than a distant memory. Neither of them had any lingering inhibitions about what they were doing. Every touch felt perfectly natural. Every kiss was sincere. There was a profound sense of familiarity between them, as if they had been lovers for years.
They barely said a word to one another all day long; yet there was never any communication breakdown between them. All Simon needed to do was think about his desires, and Chaarvi would happily oblige. As a matter of fact, Simon found the silence kind of erotic.
By Thursday, they had regained enough discipline to return to college. Of course, they returned to Simon’s apartment in the evenings for dinner and sex. All the same, Simon could hardly wait for the weekend.
He naturally presumed that it would be a direct sequel to their Wednesday adventure: two straight days of relaxed nudism and sex, sex, sex. After all, wasn’t that the traditional way for college kids to spend their first free weekend after becoming an intimate couple?
He was disheartened, when he awoke on Saturday morning, to find himself in an otherwise empty bed. That hadn’t happened to him for four days.
But his concerns were quickly put to rest when he lifted his head to see Chaarvi, sitting at the breakfast table.
She was stark naked.
“Good morning,” she cheerfully mumbled through a cheek full of cereal.
“Morning,” Simon replied, completely mesmerized by the view before him.
“I got off to an early start,” Chaarvi remarked, gesturing to her breakfast bowl with her spoon, as she swallowed her food. “I had this funny feeling that I was gonna need to build my strength up for today.”
“Oh, really? What gave you that idea?” Simon asked facetiously.
Chaarvi shrugged, “Past experience.”
Simon smirked, “I know what you mean. Navigating those weekend crowds at the farmers’ markets can really take it out of you.”
Chaarvi’s face lit up with amusement. Her eyes sparkled and her teeth shone, through the loveliest smile Simon had ever seen. He felt an overwhelming urge to march over to that table, right then and there, sweep Chaarvi off her feet, and carry her back to the bed so he could be with her.
And the joke wasn’t even that funny.
“Yeah, well... I sort of become a real mess when I’m on my feet all day, anyway,” Chaarvi quipped. “I really do my best work lying down,” she added in a sultry voice, before very slowly licking her spoon clean. The gesture left Simon speechless.
“Goddamn!” he eventually responded, “Now I need to build my strength back up!”
“Would you like me to get you some?” she asked, gesturing once again to her bowl.
“That’d be great. Thanks,” Simon warmly replied. “I just gotta go take care of some business, first.”
After visiting the bathroom, he returned to find a full bowl of cereal and a plate with some fresh toast waiting for him. He was glad that he had made an effort on Thursday to find out what Chaarvi liked for breakfast, and stocked up his kitchen accordingly. This morning could’ve gotten off to a very awkward start, watching her trying to sustain herself on his nearly-exhausted supply of Pop Tarts.
Even before he sat down, Simon could scarcely take his eyes off of Chaarvi’s large breasts. He’d become very familiar with them over the past few days, of course. But the novelty certainly hadn’t worn off.
Every innocent movement of Chaarvi’s arms or shoulders changed the shape of her boobs in a very particular way. Sometimes, Simon was lucky enough to catch a little jiggle. Even when she was merely sitting down to breakfast, her breasts were fascinating.
Simon quickly realized that Chaarvi was nonchalantly encouraging his fixation, by making movements that were pleasing to watch, and by drawing her arms together to enhance the ‘fullness’ of her breasts.
Beneath the table, Simon ended up nursing a particularly stubborn boner. He suspected that Chaarvi was aware of it, and that she liked it. She feigned naivety with a weak, genial smile, but the playfulness in her eyes gave her away.
Breakfast became something of a game; a sort of veiled foreplay. Although they both sat there, ostensibly sharing a civilized meal, they never said a word to one another, and the sexual tension hovering over the table was obvious. There was a mutual curiosity between them, to see if they could last the entire meal without one of them making an overt move upon the other.
Chaarvi finished her cereal, then left the table with a smirk upon her face, taking her bowl with her. She rinsed the bowl out, leaning over the kitchenette sink in a way that emphasized her shapely yet petite backside. As Simon’s last piece of toast crunched between his teeth, he imagined he was sinking his teeth in to the gorgeous ass cheek that seemed to be pointing right at him.
When she had finished washing up, Simon couldn’t help but use his mental influence over her to have her model briefly for him. She gave him a slow, 360-degree turn, culminating with a full frontal view. She placed her hands proudly upon her hips, then elegantly pivoted them, to draw attention to her crotch.
Simon then made her show off her boobs properly; first by shimmying her chest to make them jiggle, then by slowly cupping and massaging them to demonstrate their suppleness.
Pre-cum dribbled from the tip of his raging erection.
Yet despite his excitement, he decided to finish his breakfast before having his way with her. There was no need to be impatient—after all, she wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, he anticipated having a very busy weekend with her. He didn’t want to burn himself out in the first half hour. So he released Chaarvi from his mental control and allowed her to go about her business.
After breakfast, Simon and Chaarvi wasted no time in getting busy. It began as missionary sex, and even from the start, there was something deliciously chaotic about their energy. They rolled around the mattress in the throes of their passion, seemingly with no care for what position they were in, just so long as they were screwing. Sometimes Simon was on top; sometimes Chaarvi was; and sometimes they were laying on their sides, in a furious embrace. By the time they finished, they were making so much noise, the entire building must’ve been well aware that Simon was getting very lucky.
The session ended with Chaarvi straddling Simon, in the cowgirl position, moaning in shameless abandon. When she finally stopped cumming, she rolled off her lover and laid by his side, exhausted and breathless.
A minute or so passed, in which they both caught their breath, and their racing hearts calmed down significantly. Then they curled up into the spoons position, to relax together. Simon wrapped his arm around Chaarvi’s belly and squeezed her firmly to him. He absently kissed her shoulder, then buried his nose happily into her long mane of ebony hair.
That was when his ‘erotic weekend at home with Chaarvi’ broke from his expectations.
Instead of merely resting for a few minutes, Simon and Chaarvi laid there, spooning for hours! It wasn’t as if either of them was too tired to go another round; they simply enjoyed lying quietly together.
It was a delightful experience for Simon; basking in Chaarvi’s warmth, slowly brushing his fingertips through her pubic hair, his flaccid cock nestled comfortably into her butt crack. He was in no hurry for it to finish, much like how one never wants to leave a nice hot bath once they’ve gotten comfortable.
After a very long time, Chaarvi rolled over to face Simon. She stared at him intently, wearing a relaxed, neutral expression upon her face.
She was studying him, evaluating him. This was probably her first opportunity to form a level-headed opinion about her new lover. After all, for the past few days, she had been governed by sheer horniness. Her one and only interest in Simon had been her desperate desire to ride his cock, over and over again. For the moment, those base appetites had been appeased, and Chaarvi was able to look upon him with patient and discerning eyes.
What sort of curveball had the universe thrown her, by making her subservient to this random guy? Who was this man who was now her master? What sort of man was he? What made him tick?
Simon could see her mulling over all these questions in her head, dispassionately trying to develop some understanding of the situation she now found herself in, and especially of Simon himself.
Staring in to her eyes, he was once again amazed by her exceptional beauty. Not just her pretty face, but also the charming presence she exuded.
He recalled the fire in her eyes, when she had barged into his apartment, that morning after they’d first had sex. He remembered her enchanting grace and keen intelligence as she’d educated him on her divine heritage, over coffee. And he happily reflected upon the wild passion that had smoldered in her eyes, numerous times over the past few days, while they were making love.
Strong, elegant, clever, sensual, passionate; this babe was the whole package! And she was all his.
Yet, there was still so much he didn’t know about her.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he gently broke the silence, speaking at little more than a whisper. He continued idly caressing her hip while they talked, a gesture he had been performing since she first rolled over.
“Mmm... Like what?” Chaarvi responded.
“I don’t know...” Simon lazily shrugged. “What’s your favorite color?” It was the first thing that came into his head.
“Fuchsia,” she answered with a soft smile. “It’s a sort of pinkish-purple,” she explained. The question seemed to amuse her; or perhaps she was simply pleased that they were engaging in pillow-talk for the first time.
Simon nodded his head and smiled. He liked that answer. Most people would’ve responded with one of the common basic colors: Green, Red, Purple... etc. But then, Chaarvi wasn’t ‘most people’. He was hardly surprised that she gave an uncommon answer.
Unfortunately, it was a dead-end question, and he couldn’t think of a natural follow up.
“Where are you from?” he asked, unfazed, in a second attempt to get a proper conversation rolling.
“Well, I was born in San Francisco, but I grew up in Washington,” Chaarvi responded in a deadpan tone.
“D.C.?” Simon clarified.
Chaarvi softly shook her head, “State.”
Simon’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he nodded his head.
“That’s a long way. You get home much?” he asked.
Chaarvi sighed in frustration and broke eye contact.
“I might have grown up there, but it isn’t ‘home’,” she told him, with a sense of sorrow.
“Oh?” Simon replied. There was clearly a story behind that answer, and his curiosity was piqued.
“My mom and I...” Chaarvi solemnly continued, without any prompting, “...we don’t get along.
“Things have never been that great between us. So when I graduated high school, I set my sights on the furthest colleges away that I could find, so I could just get the hell out of there. The further, the better, you know?
“I haven’t looked back.”
Simon pulled his hand away from her hip, to gently brush a length of her hair back behind her ear. It wasn’t about to fall in to her face, but he wanted to do something to help comfort her. He hadn’t given much thought to Chaarvi’s background until now. He was surprised to discover it was so unhappy.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “What about the rest of your family?”
Chaarvi shook her head, “It was just the two of us.
“Back in India, she’d been arranged to marry this guy from a really wealthy family, “ she continued, after taking a deep breath to steel herself.
“Enter my father, who, thanks to being half-Apsara, is this bewitchingly handsome guy, who my mother just can’t say ‘no’ to. They have this whirlwind affair—or one night stand, I don’t know... Bada-bing, bada-boom, she gets pregnant.
“It’s a huge scandal. The groom and his family are outraged. The wedding is off. It’s brought major dishonor upon my mom’s family, so they totally disown her.
“She makes her way to America, all alone; has me; and after a few years we settle down in this small town in Washington.”
Simon suddenly realized that the most likely reason Chaarvi was spilling her personal history so openly was because he wanted her to. The power he held over her meant that if he wanted to learn Chaarvi’s intimate secrets, she had no choice but to divulge them to him; she couldn’t maintain a boundary of privacy.
It felt as if he had picked up a benign-looking book and realized all too late that he was reading somebody else’s diary. Yet, even though it felt immoral, he couldn’t help reading on, because he was too intrigued to stop.
“So now she’s stuck in this tiny little two-bedroom house,” Chaarvi continued, “working a series of menial nine-to-five jobs to make ends meet; no friends, no family—aside from a kid; no luxuries... You know, a pretty crap life.
“So, guess whose fault that is?”
It took a second for the penny to drop, but when it did, Simon’s eyes widened in horror.
“No...” was as much of a response as he could manage.
“Yup!” Chaarvi softly nodded. “If I hadn’t been conceived, she could’ve had this dream life, living in a Bangalore mansion, as the trophy wife of some high-flying executive. But instead...
“I ruined her whole life. And oh, doesn’t she just love making sure that I know it!” Chaarvi huffed bitterly.
Simon cupped his hand tenderly against the side of Chaarvi’s face. His heart was breaking. He was struck with the mental image of a little girl, with the same sensitive brown eyes he was staring in to at that very moment, paralyzed with distress as some scowling, spiteful woman—her own mother, no less—loomed over her, berating her as the reason for all of the woman’s unhappiness.
Chaarvi was the loveliest person Simon had ever met. How could her own mother have treated her so cruelly? Simon scarcely knew what to say.
“God... I’m so sorry,” was the best he could do.
“Hey, water under the bridge, right?” Chaarvi responded with a forced smile.
“I didn’t mean to go opening wounds,” he apologized.
“I know,” she warmly assured him. “It had to come out sooner or later.”
Simon couldn’t help but notice the unsettling parallels between Chaarvi’s mother’s story, and their own present situation. Chaarvi’s mother had been unable to resist Chaarvi’s father’s advances, due to some supernatural hold he had over her. And here Simon was, lying naked in bed beside a girl who was likewise completely under his power.
That situation had ruined Chaarvi’s mother’s life. What sort of long-term consequences was he going to have on Chaarvi’s life, by leading her astray for his own pleasure?
Then again, he had already tried abstinence; already tried staying out of her life and leaving her to her own devices. That approach seemed to do more harm than good. So, what was the answer? It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, trying to do the right thing.
“Are... are you okay, master?” Chaarvi inquired with noticeable concern. Simon must’ve zoned out, mulling over his ethical dilemma for longer than he realized.
“Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, feigning a smile which failed to convince her.
“Bit of a mood killer, huh?” she sighed with disappointment.
Simon didn’t know what to say, so he simply placed his hand upon her shoulder and rubbed it reassuringly.
“Are you okay, master?”—Those words echoed through his mind, over and over.
When Chaarvi had called him that during their first post-coital lay-in, he relished it. It was like something out of his most fantastic wet dreams, to have such a gorgeous woman fawn over him with such dedication.
But today, that word was yet another reminder that Chaarvi was only laying here beside him because she was compelled to do so, against her will.
“You know, you don’t need to call me that,” he told her gently. “You can just call me S...”
“Wait!” Chaarvi urgently cut him off before he could complete the instruction, silencing him by placing a finger across his lips. “Please don’t make me call you that,” she pleaded.
Simon was confused, especially by the level of desperation he saw in Chaarvi’s eyes.
“It’d be disrespectful for me to call you by a common name,” she explained. “You’re my shrine, remember, master? I have to treat you with reverence.”
“I really don’t mind,” Simon assured her with a shrug. After all, why should he feel disrespected by someone calling him by his given name? Everyone called him ‘Simon.’
“No,” she responded, shaking her head. She paused for a second, trying to figure out how she could best explain her objection so that he would understand.
“Imagine for a second that you’re this super devout Catholic,” she began, “you’re just some 9-to-5 nobody living in an insignificant little town. But you never miss a mass and you’re devoted to your religion.
“Now imagine you come home one day to find you’ve got a letter from the Vatican: you’ve been summoned to become the Pope’s personal full-time assistant. And so, this is like the most incredible honor you could ever get! You get to serve your god in a way that really matters!
“So you get to the Vatican, and you’re introduced to the Pope for the first time. You bow down and greet him, ‘Your Holiness...’ And then he says back to you, ‘Ey, how ya doin’? Never mind with that fancy crap! Just call me Frank!’”, Chaarvi explained, feigning a hard Jersey accent for the Pope.
The irreverent mental imagery brought a broad grin and a chuckle to Simon, and Chaarvi couldn’t help but laugh in sympathy.
“It would take the shine off the whole experience, you know?” she continued, “It’d make it cheap... less special. And it would feel like a betrayal; like you were being asked to belittle something that’s really special to you.
“Sacred things need to be upheld as sacred things. Otherwise, we risk losing our perspective. The wonderful becomes mundane. The paths we walk lead nowhere.
“See, when you disrespect something holy, you disrespect holiness itself, and therefore all the holy elements of the universe. We all lose a little something when that happens.
“So, it’s important that I honor you as my master—because you are my master, and I’m your servant. It would be blasphemous for me to bring you down to my level.
“It’s my duty to honor you,” she asserted, with an air of pride that amazed Simon.
He had no response. He merely gazed at her, thoughtfully, while stroking her hair.
He more or less understood the concept of what Chaarvi had been telling him. But he nonetheless struggled to believe that she genuinely liked addressing him as “master” all the time. It still blew his mind that she perceived him as some sort of sacred figure to be worshiped, like the Pope. He was just some middling college kid!
Listening to her explanation did nothing to soothe his anxieties about the power he held over her. If anything, it made his situation even more troubling.
It seemed that whatever was going on between himself and Chaarvi was governed by a complex set of rules, of which he understood very little. And if he inadvertently made Chaarvi break any of those rules, he might really upset her.
It also reinforced his concerns that Chaarvi was a captive in this arrangement, bound by those rules, to a life of involuntary servitude.
All the same, he couldn’t dispute the sincerity in Chaarvi’s eyes, nor her confidence as she’d explained those things to him. She certainly believed it was important to uphold him as her “master.” But what truly confounded him was that she didn’t appear to mind any of this.
“Do you like this... situation? Being under my control, I mean?” Simon asked her with noticeable skepticism.
Chaarvi pursed her lips into a cheeky smirk and shrugged.
“It’s growing on me,” she replied, playfully.
It was an answer that put him somewhat at ease, even though he still had a multitude of questions and concerns.
Chaarvi confirmed the sentiment with a kiss that melted the tension in Simon’s body like a hair dryer blowing on an ice cube.
She rolled on top of him, as the kiss segued into another, far more amorous one. He felt her crotch pressing against his member. There was no mystery about where this was leading.
Simon knew he would need time to reflect on everything Chaarvi had told him this morning. He needed to make sense of the deeper stuff, and to ultimately determine what sort of role he ought to be playing in her life.
But for the moment, it was enough for him to know that she was comfortable being sexually involved with him.
He was in bed with a drop-dead gorgeous babe, and they both had a free weekend to kill. Now didn’t feel like the time to be wrestling with philosophical dilemmas.