Author’s Note

I have written this story with an idea gained from two sources — one from a lady relative of mine and another from a friend of mine.

It is said this lady’s children were born to her through her own brother because her husband was impotent. Reportedly, she did it with the full knowledge and consent of her husband and her in-laws. This was done by her to get a larger share for her husband in his ancestral property. I know this lady from my childhood. In fact, her children and I were playmates. But I did not know about her incest at that time. I came to know of this only when my marriage talks began. This lady had proposed her daughter to me for marriage. I was also interested in marrying her daughter as I knew that girl from her younger days and also because they are well-to-do and they promised a grand-style marriage. But my parents did not accept her proposal and they gave me this reason for their rejection of that girl.

In case of my friend, he has married only recently, though he is 40 years old. I knew him from school days, and we are very close to each other. Many times, I have gone to his shop and spent time there. Some prostitutes roamed in that area, and they were also his friends. He would chat with them regularly, and at times, he fucked them. Occasionally, when I went to his shop to see him, I also chatted with those prostitutes, and on a very few occasions, I have fucked them. He confessed to me that once after fucking with a prostitute, he had gotten an infection. He did not know what to do, and so he sought advice from his aunty. She saw his condition and, on her advice, he went to a doctor and got cured. Later, she advised him to have sex with his younger sister. He was reluctant in the beginning, but she induced him very much for it, and he then agreed. He had a sexual relationship for some time with his younger sister, using only her anus and mouth. He did this with full knowledge of his house people. His younger sister was first reluctant for it, but later, she did not resist, and he had his satisfaction with her daily. He continued it till she got married and went to her husband’s house. Now, he is also married and happily settled with a child.

I have used the first-person narrative to make it better reading.

This happened when I was 30 years old. I belong to a poor family. My father was a cook employed by a catering contractor for marriage et cetera functions. I have two elder sisters and one younger sister. Reportedly, my mother had several miscarriages, and only we 4 survived. My elder sisters are named Vedham and Rajam, and my younger sister is named Thangam.

My father was not earning much, and what he got was squandered by him in drinks and card play. Practically, he was not supporting the family, and his death at my young age did not make any adverse impact on me or our family. My mother, though illiterate, was a patient woman, and only she reared the family by her hard work and willpower. She would go and cook in some select houses and make good eatables in their houses for various functions like Deepavali, etc. Further, in our house, she would prepare pappads and condiments and sell them. We also used to help her to our best in these doings. Like this, she was earning small amounts, which only helped her to run the family in a frugal way. Her these activities earned her a pet name “pappads aunty” or in Tamil “appalam maami”. Her preparations were all good, tasty, and in good demand also. But we had no other support worth mentioning. Blissfully, our house was our own, and it was the only plus point we had.

When I finished my school education, in my financial condition, college was out of the question. With some help from well-wishers, I started a Xerox shop with one old machine, and in some years, I was able to change it to a new, improved version Xerox machine, and I added a spiral binder and lamination machine. I was looking after it totally. Fortunately, my shop was in the market area, and some offices were there. They were giving me Xerox and binding / lamination works regularly. I also kept a stock of pappads and condiments prepared by my mother in the shop and used to give it to select customers asking for it. In this way, I had some reasonable income. As I did not employ anyone, I would keep my shop open for long hours every day and practically on all Sundays and holidays also. A tailor shop was next to me, and he was my good friend. So when I had to go out to deliver the Xeroxed works or go away to pee, he would just watch my shop in my absence.

In due time, I got my two elder sisters married with much effort. For this purpose, I raised money by selling part of our house, and I also incurred further loans on my shop. All our meager savings were wiped out, and we ended up with some debts which I was clearing slowly. We tightened our belt further to save whatever was possible for the marriage of my younger sister.

I became sexually aware when I was 14 years old, and I started regular masturbation. Usually, in the night after ensuring my mother and my sisters are settled in bed, I will lie on my bed and turn to the side facing the wall. I would have removed my underwear and worn only a lungi before going to bed. I will always keep a small cloth inside my pillowcase. I will let out my cock from inside the lungi, take this cloth from the pillowcase, and covering my cock with the cloth, I will jerk till I ejaculate. My semen will collect in the cloth, and I will wipe my cock dry with it. Then I will just put the semen-wet cloth onto a table nearby. I will correct my lungi and then sleep. My practice was known to my people. In the morning, they will take and wash this cloth, and after drying it, they will fold and keep it inside my pillowcase for my use again in the night.

Sometimes I will wake up in the midnight and again masturbate. Then I will just do it inside my lungi and get my lungi wetted with my semen. In the morning when I wake up, the wetness would have dried, leaving a visible stain in my lungi. I would remain in the home with the semen-stained lungi, well in the notice of my house people, and I did not feel any particular shame about it, and they also would see but ignore it. Sometimes my sisters would giggle good-naturedly on seeing it, and I would get a pleasant embarrassment.

Sometimes while watching TV or reading some juicy thing in some book, I would get an erection. At such times, I would just insert my hand inside my lungi and play with my cock for some time. At times, I would even jerk fully to the finish and ejaculate, semen wetting my lungi. Like this, I have done many times before the very presence of my mother and sisters, who would be watching TV along with me. I never felt any shame in doing such things, and they also never objected to such acts of mine.

In the same market area, there was an old paper merchant whose shop was in the lane next to my shop, and he was buying and selling all kinds of old things. He was also keeping a small bookshop where he kept old magazines and books. I was his customer, and usually, I took and returned old Tamil magazines from his shop for reading by my house people. He was keeping many pornography books in his shop, but he kept them well hidden and gave them only to customers particularly asking for them. Sometimes I took these books from him, and I would read them in my house and do masturbation. Though my habit of masturbation was thus well known to all members in my family, yet they never criticised me for it or spoke ill of it to me.

My sisters would teasingly refer to that cloth (used by me to catch my semen) as my first wife and my lungi as my second wife. So on days when I did double masturbation and wetted both the cloth and my lungi, they would jocularly say, “So did you sleep with both your wives in bed yesterday night?” I would just smile in shyness, and they would giggle with affection.

Sometimes my sisters also teased me for my habit and said, “You have so much starch in you — why do you waste it — instead of spilling it in the cloth or in lungi, you should pour it in a vessel — then sell it to washermen for starching their clothes — they will give you money and you can become rich”. I would be embarrassed and give them a weak smile, and they will giggle and tease me more. Many times, my mother will just smile with them, but sometimes she would intervene and scold them and say, “Why do you taunt him - it is men’s practice - so you girls don’t interfere in his ways and don’t speak about it”.

My shop was in a market area. The building in which my shop was situated was the last one at the end of a market lane. This building was divided into two portions; my shop was in the corner, and a tailor shop was next to me in the same building. Our shops had a small verandah under an awning. Some prostitutes would roam in that market area during night times. These prostitutes would stand in our corner and invite the passerby to come to them. At a little distance from our lane, some open land was there, after which there was a drainage canal. This canal or ditch was used by all of us to pass urine. After this canal ditch, some more open space and railway tracks were there. This open space after the canal was abounding with some bushes and small trees. No lighting was provided in these open places, and so they would be dark places during nights.

These ladies had put some huts there. They will take their customers to those huts, satisfy them, and send them. Again, they will come and stand in the lighted corner of our shop for getting more customers. Sometimes, they will sit in our verandah and chat among themselves. Because they had to attract men, they will dress very loosely, do cheap make-up, and smile easily. Often, they will scratch their tits, cunt, or buttocks before the men without any shame. They will make lewd comments about the passing men and very loudly laugh even for silly things. Many times, they will not care to properly cover their blouse-clad tits with their saris. So, their balls and nipples will be prominently visible under their thin blouses, giving a very erotic and inviting look to the passerby men. These ladies will easily identify the men interested in them, and on locating such persons, they will make lewd fucking signs secretly and stare boldly at such men with inviting gestures and looks.

I am from a very decent family, and so I distrusted these women and had a very low opinion of them in the beginning. But I was also tempted by their bodies, and I would see them with desire in a furtive manner when they were not looking. But at times, they would catch me eagerly looking at them, and then they would give me inviting looks and signals. Sometimes, they would openly ask me, “What, sir — why only look — come and do it with us”. I would then feel embarrassed and deny them, and they would tease me for my shyness.

The next shop tailor was friendly with them and would talk to them regularly. Sometimes, he would also stitch their clothes. He was also their regular client. Though he was married and had kids, he often used some of them for his enjoyment. Usually, in the night before the shop closing time, he would call any one woman inside his shop and, keeping the shutter down, he would enjoy her. Then, after sending her out, he would lock his shop and go away to his house.

This tailor prompted me sometimes to join in his talk with them, and so like that I started talking with them. Initially, I talked with them very sparingly, but over some days, I started to talk with them regularly for longer periods and became well known to them. So these ladies became our friends and would normally speak with us when we found leisure. Further, the shop in our next building was a big hardware godown where normally none would be there after evening hours. So we had some privacy of a sort in the nights, and hence talking with those prostitutes for a longer time posed no problem to us. Talking with them also relieved me of the monotony of my work, and it was a welcome diversion for me at many times.

Among these women, one lady was an older woman with an age of about 50 years or more. I came to know she was previously doing prostitution and after becoming old, she did not take customers. Her name was Elisi, and she was always addressed with respect by the other ladies as Akka (meaning Elder Sister in Tamil) or Perisu (meaning elder person in Tamil). She had stopped prostitution due to old age, but she was helping these other prostitutes in getting men or in avoiding police people. The other prostitutes would all speak with her with affection, and they would be guided by her advice only in everything. I came to know this Elisi is a very tough woman, and the other ladies always looked to her for protection. If any customer tries to avoid payment after having sex or behaves violently with these women, immediately they will seek help from Elisi, and she will deal with such a person harshly and very severely.

Elisi would always keep a basket with her in which some quantity of plantains would be there. She would roam in the market hawking for selling these fruits. But her eyes would always wander and locate men interested in having some quick sex. Ostensibly, she would roam in the market area in the role of a fruit vendor. Her real job was to locate and guide newcomers in the market to these prostitutes. While regular customers knew about these prostitutes and came to them directly, newcomers to the market would not know about them. But they may have a desire for having some quick sex with some women. Elisi would easily notice such persons and bring them to these women. While hawking the fruits, she had a typical way of crying “fruits”. She would do it with such voice modulation that one could easily understand that she was selling different wares.

This Elisi, when not roaming in the market, would normally sit on our verandah and chew betel leaf (paan). Then she would always gossip with me and the tailor. Many times she would say to me, “Thambi (meaning little brother in Tamil) — my girls are very good — all men eagerly come in search of them — you should also spend some time happily with them — don’t feel shy — tell me whom you like and I will ask her to be with you”. I would merely laugh and keep quiet.

These ladies were all illiterate, and for them, the tailor was “tailor sir” and I was “machine sir” because they could not understand my Xerox machine or what I did with it.

These ladies had come to that profession by force of circumstances, and many had very sad tales to tell. Most of them were abandoned people and had no one to call as their support. Some were children of coolies who took to this profession, finding it easier than the arduous coolie work. Some were in that profession from childhood because their mothers were also prostitutes. They had nothing to call their own and never even cared for what would happen to them in the future. Altogether, listening to their tales made me feel that I was a more fortunate person thanks to the grace of God.