“Mrs. Prendergast’s Gift” Part 2

Mrs. Prendergast’s Gift Part 2

© 2010  MikeKimera  All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in
whole or part without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

We walked together in silence, as if it was something that we had done many times before. I had no idea where I was going or what strange rites were about to be performed but the warmth of Mrs Prendergast’s arm on mine seemed to convey to me something of her calm strength. Ishut my mind to what was about to happen and focused on the soft susurration from Mrs. Prendergast’s silk dress as we walked.

Aisha was waiting for us at the end of the corridor. She bowed to Mrs. Prendergast and then to me.

“Mr. Carstairs wishes you enlightenment,” she said, smiling. “He is taking a nap and asks to be woken when you are no longer yourself.”

I had no idea how to reply to this.

“Freddy knows very well that the purpose of this ceremony is to make you more yourself than you have ever been, Tom,” Mrs Prendergast said, taking both my hands in hers and turning me to face her, “But it is not in his nature to miss an opportunity for humour.”

Her hands were warm and soft and almost as large a my own. I wanted to look down at them; to see my hands in hers, but I could not look away from her eyes.

“I can see that you are a serious man, Tom. I know that you will take this ceremony seriously. In a moment, I will ask Aisha and Mina to help you to purify yourself in preparation for the ceremony. When next we meet, I want you to follow my instructions without hesitation or embarrassment and I want you to remain silent except when I ask you a question. Will you do those things for me, Tom?”

“I will try my best,” I said, trying not to think about why I might be embarrassed and what purification would involve.

She squeezed my hands gently and smiled at me. Her smile had no coquetry in it, only simple happiness.

“One last thing,Tom. From now on, you may call me Estelle.”

Estelle placed one of my hands in Aisha’s and then beckoned Mina, who had followed us along the corridor, to take the other. The two sisters lead me away from Estelle and into a warm, well lit bathroom. A shallow tub was already filled with steaming water. One of the new water closets that the Great Exhibition had made popular stood within a small enclosure in a corner of the room. I began to understand what Estelle had meant by purification.

Aisha, who was behind me, reached around me to take my jacket from my shoulders. As she did so, I felt he breasts press gently against my back. The contact lasted only a second before Aisha moved away to pull the jacket off but it was enough for me to experience the first stirrings of arousal. It had been a very long time since a woman had touched me intimately.

I had just turned my head to speak to Aisha, when Mina’s small hands started to work on undoing my belt. My arousal became complete. I was deeply embarrassed at the speed and intensity of my response. It spoke too deeply of need and too plainly of a lack of control.

Aisha moved closer and reached around to remove my tie. Mina, having undone my belt, began to open  the waistband on my trousers. They were both desirable women. They moved in graceful silence and seemed oblivious of their effect on me. In a few moments my reaction to them would become shamefully visible. It was more than I could bear.

I grabbed Mina’s wrists and twisted sideways out of Aisha’s reach.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice betraying the beginnings of panic.

“Please release my sister, Mr. Thornton,” Aisha said, her voice calm but firm.

I had forgotten that I still held Mina’s wrists. Her eyes were large. She seemed shocked by my behaviour. I let go of her, stepped back and started to say that I was sorry.

Aisha reached out and put a finger on my lips to stem the flow of my apology.

When I had calmed myself, she lifted her finger and smiled at me.

“Do not apologise, Mr. Thornton. I should have explained the purification to you. You must enter the ceremony clean and relaxed and appropriately dressed. Mina and I are here to bathe and dress you. Most celebrants find our presence relaxing. It helps them to become more receptive to the ceremony.”

“I am not used to such attentions, Aisha. Mina, I apologise for the extremity of my response. I meant you no harm.”

“The extremity of your response was, for the most part, very flattering, Mr. Thornton, until you grabbed my wrists.” Mina said.

Her reference to my arousal, made me aware that the response had not entirely subsided.

“May we undress you now?” Mina asked, her hands reaching towards my waistband once more.

“I would prefer to undress myself,” I said.

Both sisters bowed to me and then waited for me to continue disrobing.

“I would prefer to undress alone.” I said.

Mina seemed to be struggling to suppress a smile. Aisha, maintained her dignity, and mine, and said, “I understand. We will give you a few minutes to undress and to use the water closet. Then we shall return to bathe you. Do not concern yourself. Your modesty will be preserved.”

Aisha took Mina’s hand and lead her out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, I wondered if I had done the right thing. I knew that bathing sometimes had a religious significance in India. My carnal reaction had been inappropriate. It had also been completely beyond my control.

I undressed, relieved that my arousal had subsided and went into the water closet to “purify” myself.  When I came out of the enclosure, my clothes were gone. Mina and Aisha were standing beside the shallow bath. I covered my nakedness in haste, letting out an oath I should not have uttered in the presence of young women. Their heads turned towards me and I saw that they were both wearing blindfolds made of white linen.

Still covering myself, I walked, naked, towards them.

“Thank you, Aisha. This is a most ingenious solution,” I said, as I drew close to them.

”Mrs. Prendergast recommended it.” Aisha said.

Seeing both women looking up at me, but unable to see me, was quite affecting. I could not resist regarding both of them closely. The blindfolds drew attention to the lush fullness of Mina’s mouth and the smooth elegance of Aisha’s cheekbones.

“Mrs. Prendergast also recommended that we offer you a cup of ‘Shiva’s Tears’,” Mina said, holding up a small cup made of burnished metal that contained a pale, sweet-smelling, viscous liquid.

“I thought Shiva’s Tears were the beads that are used in Hindu garlands?” I said, taking the cup from Mina’s hands.

“You know a great deal about our homeland, Mr. Thornton,” Aisha said. “The liquid is a mixture of the seeds the beads are made from and little poppy juice. Mrs. Prendergast describes it as an entheogen, which means…”

“… giving birth to the divine within,” I said. “Mrs. Prendergast knows her Greek.”

“Mrs. Prendergast’s father taught her many languages. Drink, Mr. Thornton. Let the Shiva’s Tears wash away your cares. It will calm your spirit, caress your body, and free your mind.”

I drained the cup. There was a fleeting sensation of warmth but no other immediately noticeable effect.

I set the cup on the floor and said, “What would you have me do now?”

“Step into the bath,” Aisha said. “but please remain standing.”

Moving past the two women sightless women, I did as I had been instructed. The water was warm rather than hot, and came up to just below my knees. It had been scented with something musky but spicy that intrigued my nose but which I could not identify. The warm liquid seemed almost to caress my skin. I thought I had never before stepped into such a pleasant pool.

Mina and Aisha, feeling their way, hands extended, heads up, also stepped into the bath. Although they were still wearing their saris and I knew I was shielded from their sight nevertheless I was still standing naked before two beautiful young women. I should have felt uncomfortable but the entheogen seemed to be doing its work. I had no anxiety about my nakedness. I was more concerned that Mina, and Aisha would get their saris wet. I started to warn them of the danger but was distracted by the scent in the water and asked what it was called.

Mina, who had positioned herself in front of me, the tips of the fingers of her right hand resting gently just below my sternum, said, “It is patchouli oil, or green leaf oil. It will relax the spirit while stimulating the skin. Let me show you.”

She reached down to dip a flannel into the bath and, stretching upwards, spread the oil-slick water across my chest, My skin tingled at the touch of her small hands. I let out a sigh of pleasure.

Mina, laughed, her unseeing face turned up towards mine. “It is wonderful, isn’t it?” she said “How little things can give so much pleasure.”

I wondered if she was referring to the oil or herself. Before I could reply, Mina was again bending towards the water.

“Let me take the tension from your shoulders,” Aisha said, from close behind me.

She used a cup to pour water over my shoulders and then worked her fingers deep into the muscles there. It was painful and pleasant at the same time. Her hands were strong, skilled and relentless. Soon a shiver of warmth worked its way from my shoulders down to the base of my spine. My stance relaxed and I might have fallen but Aisha bore my weight and held me in place.

“Strength can also bring pleasure,” she said quietly, so only I would hear.

Perhaps it was the blindfolds or the effect of the Shiva’s Tears, or simply the calmness of the women, but I was no longer felt embarrassment at being touched so intimately. Instead, I gave myself up to it, relishing the sensations from my heightened senses.

I straightened up, immediately missing Aisha’s warm strength against my back. She had moved on, lifting my right arm until it was in line with my shoulder, and then she working both her hands in slow spirals from my shoulder to my elbow, pivoting me back against her as she did so.

Mina focused her attention on my belly, which was stretched taught by the way Aisha held me. She ran her hands, fingers spread wide, down the sides of my stomach, making an O around my navel. She repeated the process in reverse, her fingers never leaving my skin, even when Aisha switched to my left arm and twisted me in a different direction. Both sisters seemed to be engaged in a dance and it seemed to me that I was the tune they were playing.

Aisha brought both my arms firmly against my sides, holding them at the wrists. She pressed herself against my back and said “Stay still, Mr. Thornton. The bath is small and we have much to do.”

Mina rested her forehead on my belly and pushed her hand down to the tops of my thighs.

“Much to do.” she murmured, as if she were not quite awake.

I was intensely aware of Aisha’s warm weight against my back and the pressure of Mina’s head on my belly but I was not anxious. The rhythm of the dance was moving through the three of us and I was content to flow with its tide.

My vision seemed to have become more acute. The drops of condensation that beaded in Mina’s hair shone like tiny diamonds. I wanted to stroke them but Aisha had told me to remain still so I waited.

At some signal apparent only to them, both women moved at the same time. Mina squatted in front of me, working on my thighs down to the knee, keeping her head upturned as if she could see me. As my thighs tensed in response to Mina’s touch, Aisha cupped my buttocks in her hands, parting and lifting them, forcing me up onto the balls of my feet.

“You are a rider, I think, Mr. Thornton,” Aisha said. “You have the seat for it,”

Reflexively I gripped Mina’s shoulders in an effort to keep my balance.

“He has a rider’s thighs and belly too,” Mina said, running her fingers across my belly and down my thigh as if to demonstrate her point. “It is clear he rides often and well.”

“I love to ride,” I said. “I take Mistral down to the beach and give her her head, until we are both wet and tired.”

In my heightened state of awareness, I could almost feel the motion of my mare between my legs, hear the snort of excitement the emitted when I no longer held her back, taste the salt spray splashing up at me as she plunged along the water’s edge. It was not something I would have acknowledged before my visit to Mrs. Prendergast’s house, but riding Mistral had, at least until this evening, been the most sensual experience of my life.

“Close your eyes, Mr. Thornton,” Aisha said, wrapping her arm around my chest and pulling me backwards. “Imagine yourself on Mistral’s back. Let her take all your weight.”

Aisha pulled me to her, her legs pressed against mine, her strong soft body supporting me at every point. Then, slowly and carefully, she started to rock us both in the swinging gait my horse would achieve at a slow canter.

My attention narrowed to all those points where Aisha and I touched. It was as if those parts of me were aflame and, instead of pulling away from the heat, I basked in it, glowing like a hearthstone in a winter fire.

Without warning, Mina cupped my gently swaying balls in her hands. I thought I heard her murmur, “beautiful” then Aisha, still grasping tightly around the chest with her left arm, pushed her right hand between my buttocks and moved downwards until the tips of her fingers were just behind her sister’s. The stimulation was so intense that my cock unfurled like a fern at the first touch of sunlight.

I opened my eyes and moved to look down at Mina. Aisha’s left hand slid up my chest and closed around my neck, forcing my head back.

“Focus on the ride, Mr. Thornton.” Aisha said, continuing to rock me back and forth.

“Let yourself become the ride,” Mina said, grasping the root of my ball-sack between her finger and thumb until she brought me to the edge of pain.

I closed my eyes again, and brought all my concentration to the one point of freedom I had: the swaying  tip of my erection.

Keeping hold of my balls, Mina knelt down in the water of the bath and wrapped herself around my leg, pressing her breasts against my thigh. My cock was bouncing next to her blindfolded face. Just the thought of that made my cock stiffen further until the foreskin started to roll back and my own musky scent started to compete with the patchouli oil.

Aisha withdrew her hand from between my legs, snaked around my hip, grasped my erection and then, in time to the motion of our ride, she worked her hand up and down the shaft. At the end of each stroke she ran her thumbnail across the tip of my cock setting it aflame.

Bombarded by sensation from every side, I let myself be carried up by the rhythm of the movement. I was literally pulsing with pleasure. Finally, I felt tingling at the base of my balls and a build up of pressure that I knew preceded a climatic release.

“He’s ready,* Mina said, releasing her grip on me.

The sudden absence of pressure accelerated the rush of fluid up through my shaft. Aisha stopped rocking me and slowed the movement of her hand. Mina detached herself from my leg and knelt before me, hands cupped together, arms extended, waiting for her sister to deliver my spend.

At the first explosion of fluid, I flung my head all the way back. There was a moment of familiar nothingness, like the tide flowing out from the sand of my mind, and then intense pleasure as Aisha methodically milked me into her sister’s hands.

As my cock softened it seemed that my whole body followed its example. Aisha helped me lower myself into the tepid water of the narrow bath, letting my back rest against her legs while my own legs slid either side of Mina’s kneeling form.

I looked up at Aisha. Her soaked sari was semitransparent. As she reached behind her head to untie her blindfold, her breasts pushed outwards and her nipples were clearly visible. It was a magnificent sight.

Aisha stepped out of the bath and returned with a small copper bowl, Mina emptied the contents of her cupped hands into it and then undid her own blindfold.

Mina smiled at me, washed her hands in the water at my feet and then also stepped out the bath.

I lay in the tub in a daze. I could not take in what had happened. I felt drunk with pleasure and, like any drunk, I was unable to think clearly, My manners had not entirely deserted me, I remembered to mumble my bemused thanks to both women.

Mina and Aisha had both pulled on spotlessly white hooded bathrobes of a heavy toweling cloth. Aisha held another such over her arm.

“So, Mr. Thornton, you have been bathed and thoroughly purified,” Aisha’s mouth twitched upwards into fleeting smile as she said this, “It only remains to have you properly dressed.”

Aisha held the robe up for me, politely but rather pointlessly, turning her head away as I stepped out the bath.

The women helped me shrug into the robe. It was warm and comforting and fell to my ankles but it did not fasten at the front. At this point I no longer cared. Perhaps I had indeed been purified.

Mina took my left hand and Aisha my right.

“Come with us, Mr. Thornton.” Mina said. “It is time for you to achieve enlightenment.”

© 2010 Mike Kimera  All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from mikekimera@yahoo.co.uk

2 thoughts on ““Mrs. Prendergast’s Gift” Part 2

  1. “… and it seemed to me that I was the tune they were playing.”

    This line is beautiful. I’m enjoying the slow unfurling of this story, much like Tom’s awakening sexuality.

  2. Hi Mike,

    This is gorgeous. Can’t wait for the next installment. Though if you’re interrupted by more stories as fabulous as ‘Sex with Owen’, I guess I will keep my impatience to myself. 🙂 Just wanted to let you know I’m here, reading and enjoying every word.


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