Chapter 1

It is the early evening of October 2nd, 1993. Subhash Thakur, the muscular, 6ft 3inch, 110 kgs 41 year old master of his domain in rural Haryana is enjoying the unusually brisk weather in his 4 acre garden. Subhash is a relatively recent widower, but not a sad one. His was a loveless arranged marriage of social convenience that doubled his family’s land holdings since his late wife was the only child of the landowner who owned the 43 acres of fertile land (and the tribute from the approximately 200+ farmers that went with it). The marriage had yielded two sons, Vivek (aged 18) and Aryan (aged 16). Both boys attended an elite boarding school in Gwalior, which was about 2 days journey by car from the estate.

Subhash had never been monogamous. His wealth & near-total power over his estate and its inhabitants afforded him the luxury of realizing his most uninhibited sexual fantasies. He had learned many things from seeing his own father’s (the now retired, but still very virile and active patriarch of the family) behavior over the years.

Father & son were generally fair and benevolent masters to the farmers that worked their land and the servants that served them in their estate, but both men possessed an unsatiable lust that had resulted in (and continued to do so) some very depraved sexual escapades and an unknown number of illegitimate bastards from a plethora of women.

The staff that served Subhash Thakur in the main estate house comprised of Mangesh (45), his wife Shanta (38), their son Rajpal (20) and their daughter Malti (17). Additionally, there were two security guards who were former wrestlers and likely the bastard sons of the older patriarch.

As Subhash sat in the plush armchair in his garden, Shanta (who he addressed as Shanta bai - which signified her status as his maid servant) brought out a silver tray which had a tea cup and a small plate of biscuits. Shanta bai stood 5ft 1 inch, relatively full bodied, a dusky complexion with a not ugly face. Her crowing glory was her thick, jet black hair that was tied up neatly in a bun that was almost the circumference of her face. She wore a thin, bland colored cotton sari & blouse as was the custom of women of her lower status. The only adornment on her body was a “mangalsutra” (a thin black low quality chain with a small gold pendant) that fell down to her cleavage and signified her married status. Her head was covered demurely by the “pallu” of her sari. Her serving her master some tea is a scene that would be re-enacted in thousands of upper class households all across India on any given evening.