The Indian Prince Ch. 05

"I don't know what the hell happened, but they're gone."

"Who's gone," I asked.

I had just arrived at Roger Allard's office in the consulate and he'd pulled me into the station's "Bubble"—the purpose-built room the innards of which sat on a floating platform and which was safe from electronic surveillance. Colonel Agar had turned out to be a genius at scheduling my time. I had a palace limo dedicated to my needs, although what I really needed was a pair of roller skates to scoot around the marble-floored palace corridors between the prince's apartments, the Rawalina's apartments, the Badshahrina's quarters, and Mir Yusaf Adil's private trysting room. Those and energy pills or "maintain erection" pills.

At least the colonel himself wasn't too demanding of my services. He bowed to the needs of everyone else for his slice of me—including my duties at the consulate—and was so tired at night from his own juggling act that more often than not he was asleep, holding me in an embrace, before he could get around to anything penetrating.

Although at reception at the consulate I'd been told that Allard had to see me immediately, when I got to his office, his secretary told me to wait a moment—that he had someone in the office with him.

That someone, I could see when she walked out of Allard's office, was a quite strikingly beautiful Indian-origin woman in a tailored pant suit and white blouse. She was tall and leggy and of the "I'm in charge variety." She looked me up and down, and I got the impression that she had done a total assessment in seconds, although I had no clue what the result of that assessment was. Her expression was one of aloofness, amusement, and disdain all rolled into one. I chose not to entertain the idea that she was dismissing me; her smirk was really rather challenging, and with the recent practice I'd had with the palace women, I was beginning to include the stray woman in my interests.

She sailed on by me—I couldn't see whether it was toward the elevator down to reception or back into the bowels of the station; neither did I see if she was badged or not—and Allard took my arm and led me toward the Bubble.

"Who's gone?" I asked again. I wondered if Allard's consternation had to do with the woman I'd just seen—and perhaps because I had seen her. But he didn't say anything to dispel my wonder; he didn't even tell me who she was. I didn't ask. Every day in every way I was learning how to do this Indian-style spy stuff better. I'd ask around in the office later.

"The training camp. It's gone. We sent the Magnus out again to reconfirm its location and nothing was there this time. So, we sent it right back out to take more exacting photos, and there was evidence that a camp and the training courses had been there, but they are gone now."

"And no reports of terrorist activities anywhere?"

"None. You didn't mention this to General Sungar, did you?"

"No, of course not. You told me not to—and I haven't seen General Sungar since the day the Rawalina tangled with Bhadur Khan."

"Mir Yusaf Adil says he'll get permissions in order for the Blackshield contingent, but I have news for him—but news I won't tell him. They are already on their way."

"So, what do you want me to do? Go back to the palace? Go up in the Magnus for another run?"

"I received notification the prince is coming today to fly the Magnus. I suggest that you give him a thrill and let him pilot and that you fire off all the photos you can for as far out from here as possible. There were men on the ground in the shots he took the other day. They must have gone somewhere. If we can find out where, maybe we can discern what their target is."

* * * *

I was on the first floor of the consulate, headed for the main door, when the door to a dark room off the corridor flew open and I was grabbed by the wrist and pulled into the darkness. I was propelled with such force that I stumbled in the room and must have hit my head on something as I fell to the floor. I temporarily was blacked out, coming to a few moments later.

My trousers and briefs were off and my shirt opened to my bare chest. My arms were over my head and my wrists were tied off on the other side of the leg of a desk. Someone was sucking my cock, and I already was nearly fully engorged.

She came over me and sank her cunt on my cock when I was hard and started to pump me. I knew it was a woman, because her long hair was swishing on my chest and she put her mouth next to my ear and whispered, "Just lie back and enjoy it. I'm told you have something I need."

She was kissing my neck then and while she rode my cock, one of her hands went to my balls and worked them as well. In the surprise and excitement of the situation, I came quickly, in several long spurts deep inside her.

She didn't draw back. Instead she held there, her face bending down to my chest so that I couldn't see who she was as my eyes became better adjusted to the darkness in the room. She began tonguing and sucking and nibbling on my nipples while she used something—a dildo I thought—with her other hand to penetrate my ass channel and rub the nub of it on my prostate. I was enjoying this enough to raise my knees, with my thighs brushing her back, put my feet on the floor, and roll my pelvis up to give her a straight shot with the dildo.

All of this brought me hard again in short order, and she rode the cock to a second strong, three-spurt of ejaculation. It was almost as if I was being milked.

I didn't see the needle, but I certainly felt it jab my bicep. I went out like a light. When I woke up, I was lying on the floor still, but unbound, my clothes neatly folded and stacked beside me and the overhead light in the small office on.

Once dressed, I stumbled out into the corridor and through the metal detectors at the consulate entrance and down the front steps to where the back door of a black sedan was being held open to me by an Indian driver to take me to the airstrip.

It had all been so weird and so much like a dream that I couldn't think of anyone to complain to.

* * * *

The Rawal couldn't have been more pleased that I was going to let him drive. I'd told him earlier that he'd need at least one more day as copilot, and although he hadn't been happy, he had acceded to my declaration. It was interesting that in all things but military duties, the Rawal was a spoiled, stubborn, demanding man, but that when it came to operating a piece of military equipment, he followed the rules explicitly. It's probably what had kept him alive through many years of training in on exotic military systems. This most likely was a bit chagrining to some factions within the Balrampur palace cliques that would probably be pleased to be free of their lunatic heir apparent.

Bhadur Khan returned to demanding and driving after we'd landed, and I was told, once again, to step into the back seat of his limo. I rolled and sucked his balls as he sat in the center of the backseat, his head arched back on the headrest and moaning quietly and working his cock himself. This time rather than coming when I tugged on and squeezed his balls, he lifted me with strong hands at my waist before I could do that and sat me on his cock. He growled when I placed my palms on his chest, and I immediately raised my hands to grasp handles in the ceiling of the limo. He still didn't want me to touch him. I leveraged the soles of my feet off the floor of the car to rise and fall on his cock as he did his part, controlling the rhythm, by lifting and lowering me at my waist and thrusting up into me at a counter rhythm pace.

After he came, he held me there, motionless for a moment, and whispered, "I have been told that you have been seen in the corridors of Vimala's, the Rawalina's, wing. You haven't been attending her, have you?"

"The Rawalina lives in the palace?" I asked, feigning surprise. "I would have thought she would be someplace else." God, I hope you haven't heard about your mother was my next thought.

"What are we to do to make you remember what is wanted from you, what your place is?"

I realized that this was a rhetorical question, because although he'd had me suck his balls in the limo and left me on the tarmac the first time, this time we had had our sex while the limousine was on the move. When he'd asked that question, we had arrived in the motor court of the palace, and the two burly guards who opened the doors on either side of the vehicle when the limousine stopped . . . were naked.

"Remember who you are here for," the Rawal said in a calm voice as he was handed out of the limo. And as he emerged, the two guards entered from either side. They both had condoms on erect cocks, so no time was wasted in my asking what they were up to or in one taking up the center-seat position the Rawal had vacated and pulling me into his lap and onto his cock, facing the front of the limousine. The other guard went between my legs and grabbed my ankles. He spread and raised my legs until my feet were leveraging off the ceiling of the vehicle, while the guard under me tipped my body back and the one crouched between my legs and grunted as he worked his cock inside me on top of that of that of the other guard.

It was a rough double fuck, as I'm sure they were told to do. And I could tell that they had worked together in this way before. I did all of the begging and sobbing and pleading and yelling that I thought was appropriate for the occasion, but the truth of the matter was that I'd been doubled before—and by guys better equipped than this. I sort of enjoyed it. But I certainly didn't let the guards know that. They were young, handsome, toned brutes, which seemed to be a requirement to be in the palace guard.

When I got tired of the play, I feigned unconsciousness, and they stopped and carried me into the palace and to my apartment, where a very worried Colonel Agar was standing and wringing his hands, obviously worried about me being off schedule. It was time for my nooner with the Rawalina.

And I would have been just as happy to skip that, but it was my channel that had been punished, not my cock, so the colonel whisked me away as soon as I'd showered and donned a sherwani over a somewhat bruised body. As we padded down the hall, I told him that someone was informing the Rawal of my visits to the Rawalina, but he said we would just be more careful—and that the visits shouldn't be necessary for too much longer. If seven fuckings during her high ovulation times hadn't taken effect, the plan probably wasn't going to work anyway.

"Eleven," I said.

"Eleven?"

"I gave her seed more than once four times. But who's counting?"

Later that evening, I was given more reason why I shouldn't have to visit the Rawalina anymore.

I was summoned to the grand audience room. As far as I could see nearly everyone in the palace had been summoned—with the exception, of course of the Rawalina and the Rawal's mother, the Badshahrina. As I entered the room and fanned to the left to stand as unnoticed as possible—although within striking distance of Colonel Agar—I notice that the Rawal was standing in front of his father's throne and Aruna, in a white sari but without sunglasses, was standing in front of the Badshahrina's throne but on the bottom step of three up to the throne platform. General Sungar, a great look of satisfaction on his face, was standing on the floor next to Aruna. And Mir Yusaf Adil was standing on the floor beside the Rawal. He had a weak, brave smile on his face. But he was white as a sheet.

Aruna wasn't showing her pregnancy very obviously yet. Her belly was a bit distended, but was only reaching the roundness of what any first-rate belly dancer would have. I could see the shape and shading of the ruby navel plug through the white silk of her sari.

It came as a great surprise—but probably shouldn't have—when General Sungar announced that what we had been summoned to was the marriage ceremony between Prince Bhadur Khan and the new Rawalina, Aruna.

Following a brief announcement that the former Rawalina, Vimala, had been divorced earlier in the day, the wedding ceremony was quick and efficient and was followed by servants walking around with flutes of champagne and finger foods for all. No one approached the wedding party, nor was there any indication they were expected to—or would be permitted to. A revelation for at least me dropped during the ceremony when the family of Aruna was called forth to declare her suitability for marriage—which, amusingly, included declaration of her virginity—and General Sungar, only then identified to me as her uncle, stepped forward to do the honors and tell the expected lies.

General Sungar had hastened out as soon as the ceremony was over. And almost as quickly as he left, he had returned and come over to where I stood beside Colonel Agar.

"Where is she?" he hissed at Agar in low enough tones that I was probably the only one other than the colonel who had heard him. Everyone else around was studiously pretending like General Sungar wasn't even there. No one in their right mind wanted to come to the attention of General Sungar.

"She?" Agar answered, a look of innocence on his face.

"Vimala. You are her head of security. Where has she gone?"

Agar looked worried now, and it didn't appear to me that he was faking.

"I went to the Badshahrina," Sungar growled, "And she just smiled and said Vimala had gone into seclusion, because . . . because she was pregnant. With the Rawal's son."

The words came out like lashes, and Agar took them that way. This must have convinced Sungar that Agar wasn't holding anything back and that it was a waste of the general's time under these circumstances to dally here. He turned and gave me an angry, piercing look that made me want to shrivel into the marble wall, and then he turned and went directly to the prince.

The celebration was over immediately. The Rawal wheeled around and left through a door behind the thrones and everyone else in the hall evaporated.

They didn't all go, though, before Aruna moved and I saw the pair of ladies in waiting who had been standing behind her. My jaw dropped. One of them was the young woman I'd seen coming out of Roger Allard's office that morning.