After a moment of hesitation

“Mr. Patterson?” Even after revealing her deepest darkest fantasies, I don't think Riya is expecting me to move things this fast.

“You heard me, Desi.” I growl menacingly, “put on the red silk one; that was my favorite.” I rub my hands together in anticipation. “I've been wanting to try one of you brown-skinned sluts for a while, it may as well be you.”

“I'm not a slut, Mr. Patterson.” Riya protests weakly, “I told you; I've never even been with a man.” In spite of all the times that Alison and I had played out the deflowering of an innocent maiden, I hadn't really given a shit that Dick had beat me to her prize, but I'm not likely to pass up on an opportunity like this.

“Then you'll be just like that maharaja's virginal daughter.” I slap Riya's ass softly directing her towards the stairs. “You've got 20 minutes to get yourself ready, then I'm going to take you just like that British Cavalry officer took his native prize.”

“What if I don't want to?” Normally, this is where I might back down, but I can see Riya's nipples poking out like thimbles in her tee-shirt, and her face is bright with color.

“Perfect!” I lick my lips in anticipation, “I bet that Paki princess wasn't wild about fucking the man who overthrew her father's kingdom. She probably put up a fight too.” When Riya sees me look significantly at the clock on the wall, her resistance melts away and she bolts for her room.

To be honest, I half expect the door to her tiny room to be barricaded, but to my surprise, just as I get to it the door opens and I can see that Riya has been preparing for me. The layers of gold-trimmed red silk look amazing draped over her shoulder and the exposed skin underneath almost takes my breath away. I notice that she took the time to put some on of the redeemed jewelry; golden rings hang from her ears and at least a half-dozen bracelets on her arm. Riya even has a tiny red bindi painted right between her dark brows. She really does look like an ancient Indian princess nervously awaiting her fate.

“Get away from me you white devil!” Gone is the crisp British accent, this sounds almost like a caricature of a thick Indian dialect.

“Blimey, I'm going to like this!” My accent is probably even worse than hers, and I somehow doubt that British Officers ever said 'blimey', but none-the-less I grab her slender arm and drag her to the bedroom I had shared with Alison. “Let's see you dance, girl.” I chuckle crudely, “I hear you brown bitches all dance just like harem girls.” I'm pretty sure Riya is going to do her best to get me all worked up as she slowly strips off the layers of gold-trimmed silk, this is after all, the fantasy she described for me.