Chapter 1

My name is Rajeev, and I live in the small rural village of Khoraj in Gujarat with my mother and younger sister, Nehal. I hope one day to be able to attend the Amiraj College of Engineering & Technology after I complete my secondary education.

I apologize if this story is not in perfect English. I speak very good Gujariti, Hindi, and Kutch, but English is not my favorite language. I feel compelled to tell you about a provocative thing that may amuse you.

I have seven other brothers and sisters, but they have all been married except for Nehal and me. We are the youngest of the family. My mother has made the matches for my older siblings. My mother’s name is Nabitha, and she is the matriarch of the family. She is strong, shrewd, and incredibly stubborn.

One fine day she screams at my sister Nehal. This is not the first time they have had strong words. My mother called my sister Bhosmarina and Kutrina frequently before today. I try to avoid these conflicts and focus on the many chores we must perform to maintain our farm.

Nehal is very pretty. She is also quite fit, and as you can imagine, because she is Indian, she has light amber skin and long black hair. Nehal is an impetuous teenager who is impatient to grow up. She is also very resistant to having a match for a marriage made for her. Nehal is very pretty and could quite easily select any eligible man she wanted from our village or even the nearby city of Ahmedebad.

“Why were you out all night long, Nehal?” my mother pressed the point with my sister.

“What do you think I was doing, Mother?” Nehal answered angrily. It was still quite early in the morning. It appeared from my sister’s makeup that she was just arriving home. Nehal is even younger than me, and this is frowned upon quite considerably.

“Alavitaro Chutiya,” my mother said. This was intended as an insult that essentially meant my sister was a troublesome slut.

“That is what you think of me, then why don’t you treat me that way?” Nehal demanded.

“I will!” my mother chased after Nehal.

My sister defiantly clenched her fists but put up no resistance. “I would like to see you try!”

My mother ripped off my sister’s blouse. We are quite modest at my house even though it is minimal in size and privacy. Even with my brothers, we seldom ever saw each other naked or undressing. Nehal was not wearing a bra, and her large pert breasts were exposed.

I was quietly watching from the side. I pretended to continue with my chores, but I could not stop watching this argument escalate. I did not want to interfere and suffer the wrath of my mother’s rage along with my sister.

“Suvar jevu Dachu!” My sister spit at my mother in the face. She essentially just told my mother that she had a pig’s face, which was quite the insult. My mother ripped her dress from her as well and revealed my sister’s naked body.

I had never seen a naked woman in person. I have the Internet, and I’ve been able to see incredible amounts of pornography. Seeing Nehal’s jutting buttocks and the dark line between her cracks made me incredibly stiff – even though she was my sister.

When she turned to struggle, I could see that she had no pubic hair. She simply had a long slit between her legs with a hint of pink between her legs. My mother grabbed her, and the two of them struggled. They pulled each other’s hair. My mother is small but wiry, and in the end, she pushed Nehal to the ground and sat on her chest while Nehal protested and shook her fists with rage. As she did, her beautiful bosoms bobbed up and down.

“Nagichodino, You like to be naked. Look at how you shave your body and adorn it,” Mother seethed with anger. My sister had pierced her nipples and her belly button. I could barely see the silver ornaments from where I was standing. They were traditional Hindi style decorations, but this kind of body decoration is seen as very taboo.

“Yes, so? Why should I shrivel up and grow old? It is my body, and I’ll do as I want!” Nehal spat futilely. She could struggle and squirm, but my mother had planted her ass on her chest and had control of my sister’s arms. There was no way for her to extricate herself from this position.

“You will remain naked from now on. I will lock up your clothing!” my mother barked like an angry dog guarding its food.

“What about school?” Nehal protested. She was a year younger than me. We were on a school break for Holiday.

“School? What have you learned there that you cannot learn on the farm? You will stay here and help with the farm!” My mother insisted. She valued education for all of her children, but I think my mother was just frustrated with my sister’s bratty behavior.

“I won’t be treated like cattle. You may work Fattu like a dog, but I won’t be trained to obey!” my sister narrowed her eyes in anger. Fattu is her nickname for me. It means timid. I am quite bashful and shy.

“You will plow these fields and be thankful for the food on your plate! You have tested my patience for the last time, Nehal. You think you cannot get pregnant running around at night in scandalous scenarios with strange boys?” she asked.

“I take precautions!” Nehal insisted that she was on some form of birth control or perhaps the boys pulled out before they cum inside her. I was never sure what she meant. My mother didn’t ask her any detail.

“I WILL take precautions!” my mother promised that her solution to my sister’s promiscuity would be 100% effective. She flipped my sister over and told me to come quickly and bring a switch from a nearby tree. My mother has never had to whip me, but she has whipped my brothers and sisters for being lazy. I’ve never seen her do it on the bare bottom before.

I quickly brought her a switch. My mother held Nehal’s struggling form with surprising fortitude for one of her age. My mother is by no means decrepit or all wrinkled. She is still quite fit herself and only now is starting to get a streak of gray in her dark hair.

She pulled Nehal’s arm behind her back and forced her face into the dirt. My sister could only struggle to her feet by pushing her ass up forward.

“Stop your staring and bring me a sturdier switch or it will be Gaand Tari! (Your Ass I Switch!)” my mother insisted I would receive the whipping if I did not cooperate.

Nehal glared at me as I searched for a sturdier switch. I had to cut a fresh one for my mother. By the time I returned, Nehal had stopped struggling as much. My mother had worn her down. Once she started striking her buttocks with the switch it made a deliciously wicked sound. The swish-swish, followed by a scream of pain from my sister made me intensely aroused.

“Why is he watching?” Nehal demanded to know why I was still observing her punishment. She continued to try to use her hands to cover her bottom so that my mother could not get a good swing.

“I would march you through the streets of Dwarkadhish Temple and flog you there in front of everyone if I thought the humiliation would teach you respect. Now move your hands from your bottom, or I swear I will slice your tits with this switch next!” she demanded. My sister moved her hand and allowed the spanking of her bottom to continue.

Dwarka was built on a piece of land by Krishna that was reclaimed from the sea. Sage Durvasa once visited Krishna and his wife Rukmini. The sage wished that the pair took him to their palace. The pair readily agreed and started walking with the sage to their palace. After some distance, Rukmini got tired, and she requested some water from Krishna. Krishna dug a mythical hole that brought in river Ganga to the place. Sage Durvasa was furious and cursed Rukmini to remain in the place. The temple where Rukmini’s shrine is found, is believed to be the place where she stood.

I felt like my mother was now Sage Durvasa and my sister was Rukmini receiving celestial punishments.

“This is not right for you to beat me this way,” Nehal protested.

“You give me no choice. You have had many opportunities to change your filthy ways, and now you will learn your lesson,” mother said.

“Father should be the one to discipline me,” Nehal insisted.

“Your father is chasing skirts in some brothel or drinking away our savings. He is useless. Turn so that I can get a better angle of your buttocks. You have good child-bearing hips, Nehal! You should be thankful for your beauty and humble! But you are prideful and vain!” she continued to slice into my sister’s ass.

Once she had reached around fifty switches with the rod my mother set it down. I thought that would be the end of it.

“So I am to stay naked like this?” Nehal stood up and rubbed her very bruised ass. There was deep red welting on her bottom. I felt sorry for her.

“No, I think you have had enough,” my mother said.

She bound her to the foot of her bed in bedroom and made her stand there with a gag in her mouth for an hour before returning.

I was not explicitly told I could watch Nehal in her bedroom. I wanted very much to steal glances at her bound form. However, my mother’s icy stare when I walked past Nehal’s bedroom door told me that I was not invited to gaze up my sister’s humiliation.

My mother went to check to see if Nehal had learned her lesson. “I will unlock you but you will wear what I choose around the house, and obey me at all times. You will never be out of my sight.”

I think my mother planned to untie Nehal from her bed and permit her to have some dignity as long as she accepted the traditional role of a submissive daughter.

I will never know. All I heard was Nehal’s sharp tongue of defiance in response to my mother’s offer to untie her with conditions.

“Hah, that was nothing then!” my sister would not simply accept her punishment and promise to change her behavior. Instead, she had to rub it in my mother’s face one last time before it was over. This served as a crucial mistake for Nehal.

My mother grabbed Nehal about the throat and led her to the corral. She bid me to bring rope. There we tied it around her neck and her bosoms so that she could not leave the wooden posts. We bound her wrists apart and her legs apart. Her bottom was exposed and pushed out so that I could even see her darkened anus and the lips of her pussy. My mother told me to stop staring, but it was impossible not to study the curves and lines of my sister’s vagina.

“You will remain out here until I am satisfied you have learned your lesson,” my mother insisted. She retrieved a copper bell and attached it to a rope around my sister’s neck. The rope was scratchy and clearly uncomfortable.

“Fine! We’ll see who learns a lesson!” Nehal insisted stubbornly.

Nehal remained this way for the rest of the afternoon. We had no visitors at our farm, and so it was unlikely anyone would see her. I was made to do my chores, so I could not stop and stare at her body.

At lunch time, I thought this episode would be finished. My mother served a vegetable curry in an earthen pot that she had prepared. She is an excellent cook. It is made of brinjals, surti papdi, potatoes, coconut, bananas, and methi. “Shall we bring some to Nehal?” I asked.

“No, she will eat later,” my mother declared somberly.

“It is not right that she starve, mother” I offered timidly.

“Are you challenging me as well, Rajeev?” my mother only had to hint of this question. I quickly told her that it was not my intention. I only meant well for my sister’s health.

“She will not starve. You have seen the milk sacks on her chest,” my mother said dourly. “I take it you disagree with what I have done with Nehal?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” I said. It was not uncommon for husbands to spank their wives and for wives to spank their children. It was, however, quite unheard of to tie them up and leave them outside bound to a wooden fence.

“Good, because I will need your help. I have packed Nehal’s things into this locked trunk,” she said.

“You mean to really keep her naked?” I asked for clarification.

“No, Nehal means to keep herself naked. I am merely going to hold her to that until she comes to her senses. She wants to test me to see who is the most stubborn,” my mother said. She told me that Nehal has been going out at night with young men. She was not only resistant to have a match made for her to marry, but she was already fornicating with young bachelors.

“When will you make a match for me?” I asked my mother, respectfully.

“You have some growing to do before you are ready for a wife. I will teach you what to do with an unruly wife. You will learn to treat Nehal as if she and you are married,” she said.

“I will take her to my bed?” I asked. I am sure I looked quite naïve with my question.

“Toppa,” my mother shook her head in disgust and referred to me as silly or foolish. “You will learn to spank Nehal. Your future wife will teach you what you need to know in the bedroom. When you have finished your meal, follow me, and we will begin Nehal’s instruction.”