Post Colonial Redhead

My name is Andrea, and I am a student at an ivy league school here in Canada (forgive me if I don't name it, much of what follows is compromising).  I am not one of the little rich girls who cover and adorn the campus; I am here on an athletic scholarship for softball. I made the provincial and serve as an alternate on the Olympic team so from the school's point of view I am a catch.  From my point of view, getting a full ride into medical school from an Ivy League institution puts me half way to my life goals without crushing debt.  Part of my package is campus residence.  I was raised in a small town which was about 70% white, and the rest were native, so the whole multicultural aspect of big city campus was a surprise.

I am a pretty enough girl, more healthy than fashion model, as I never cared to play with makeup or the sorts of fashions that were designed to make you look like something you were not, or were selling something that I was not.  My red hair is kept back in a pony tail because it is very light and wispy, defying most attempts to do anything beyond keep it out of my face.  I am not as tanned as you would expect from a lifetime on the field, my complexion tends to burn and peel more than tan, but enough freckles have come along to do something about the almost paper white skin nature seems to want to reset me to after every peel.  I come from a long line of "sturdy peasant girls" as mother never stops saying, so while I have all the feminine bits (48G-40-46), what lies between tends to the muscular and functional rather than the delicate and graceful.  I am in amazing shape and know that I am proud of my body, never wanting to be like those wispy little things that sit around looking helpless and decorative, mostly while cutting each other apart in social games I neither understood nor valued.

Then came my residence.  I lived in a quad.  Four sleeping rooms sharing one common room and mini fridge.  No stove or hot plate because we were only just barely trusted to boil water in our rooms.  As there are hundreds of us in the tower, and I am many floors from the fire exit, I have to agree with this point.  Many of these dear sweet city children have never cooked toast for themselves and can't be trusted with a can opener, let alone a hot plate.  My room mates all knew each other from high school, and were from the city.  They were all Hindu girls who spoke and laughed constantly with a sort of musical dialect that was almost hypnotic.  They tended to bleed between English and Hindi during their three way conversations almost without noticing, but would switch to English to include me when they noticed me.

They were everything I was not.  Short, dark, exotically beautiful, perfect makeup and nails, gold jewelry including nose rings; super confident in any social situation not only naturally acquiring the spotlight, but being able to rebuff any unwanted and negative attention with such effortless ease that the offending party frequently retreated to the snickering of bystanders.  What really got me though was Pihu's hair.  Don't get me wrong, Nitara with the willowy slenderness my own somewhat over muscled form could never achieve had lovely shoulder length hair, and the generous spill of Dryshia's hair matched the plump lushness that showed she had zero fear of deserts, and zero desire to sweat away every calorie not required to sustain life (oh how I envied her that too), but it was Pihu that captured my eyes.

How to describe Pihu?  Short super intense, yet her face which was so serious and focused she looked like a bird of prey when she was focusing on you to make a point, looked almost like a big eyed kitten when in repose.  Her eyes were big and dark like something out of anime, but her hair was like a fall of black so dark it shone.  It fell in thick heavy glory to her surprisingly round bottom, and it was when she would spend the last half hour before bed brushing her hair as she, Nitara and Dryshia lounged in wispy little silk pajama's I would never have the confidence to wear in front of anyone, or even a mirror, that I fell under her spell.

My own hair is a fiery red, a fall of scarlet, copper, rust, and gold that fascinated so many of the boys in school, but it was light.  If you are blessed with hair of reasonable thickness you have no idea how blessed you are.  My hair would fly apart in the breath of a baby, or the passing of a butterfly.  No pin ever made would hold it for more than an hour, or a single flight of stairs.  It was glorious and bright, sure, but you can't DO anything with it beyond trying to bind it out of your face, and learn to ignore the escaping whisps that mocked any bun, pony tail or braid known to mortal woman.  It is "red" by definition, but the reality breaks down as you get closer, it is a hundred different colours that net out to red when you step back.

Pihu's hair was different.  It was glossy and black like a raven's wing.  So black it shone, so black it caught your eye and drank your sight into its depths with each stroke of the brush.  As my room mates gathered to do their hair every night on the couch, I would curl up in an adjacent chair with my laptop to do homework.  Except it was impossible to do homework.  All I could do is watch the brush take long glorious strokes through Pihu's hair.  It shattered every train of thought, it took from my brain the sentence half way out of my mouth, it literally erased my brain with every glossy stroke of that brush.  I suppose the mistake was my fault.  It seemed minor at the time.

When I was stressing out about exams, about games, about availability of wait list classes, I had a hard time shutting off my brain and not working myself into nervous wreckage.  I took the time to use my laptop camera to capture Pihu brushing her hair, and used a loop of that as my screen lock.  When I hit a mental wall and my brain started running in stress filled circles, the timer on my laptop would note I had not moved down the text in some time, or not typed anything in some time and would run the loop of Pihu brushing her hair.  My panic would dissolve, my brain would reset.  A minute or two of watching Pihu brush her hair and I was ready to take on the world.  It was harmless, no one had to know how much that little crutch had been keeping me sane as I tried to find my feet in an environment where every class and every building had more people than my entire town; and every single one of them seemed so at home in the exotic mixture and frenetic pace of it all.  

Then I left my laptop on the table when I went to the bathroom.  Dryshia got into everything.  She had the least focus or self control of any of the three girls and was always poking into everything that didn't concern her.  You couldn't really be mad at her, as she treated her own secrets with equal distain, and pouted so prettily when you tried shouting at her for it.  She found the laptop playing the loop.  Her laughter called the other two over, and soon three sets of dark eyes were staring into my blue ones, and when they giggled, I blushed so hard I had to look down at the ground just to keep from running to my bedroom like a frightened child.

I stammered something about how I really loved her hair, and how watching her brush it relaxed me, and the Nitara said something in Hindi that made Dryshia laugh, she replied something that sounded like "samalaingik" and "yoni bhakshak" that made them both laugh.  I was ready to die of embarrassment until Pihu shut the laptop and walked forward to hand it to me.  When I took it, she gave me a hug and stroked my hair like I would to calm my horse when it was spooked.

"It's okay Andrea, really, I am flattered.  I think anything that makes you relaxed and happy is a good thing, yes?  So no one will tease you about it anymore.  You are welcome to watch me"  Pihu was not just speaking to me, she was laying down the law.  That is just how she talked, like she expected everyone to obey her, and as a result, almost everyone did.  I can't tell you how I felt when she stroked my hair and told me it was OK.  I let out a sound more like a whimper than a word, and there were tears in my eyes as I nodded my thanks.  I don't really know what I would have done if she hadn't stepped in.  I mean, how could I face them if they laughed in my face about it?  It's not like I was into girls or anything; believe me, half the softball team is lesbian and I had plenty of women try to pick me up in the past and I just don't swing that way.

But Pihu, oh my god.  Something about her eyes, her hair, that dark bronze neck and wine dark lips that draw the eye to her every minor change of expression as if you cannot live without learning the meaning of each tiny inflection.  She owned my attention when she was in the room, and now everyone knew it.  I guess that means I can stop pretending to do homework when they are doing "girl stuff" even if it is not the sort of girls stuff that my fellow jocks tended to do.

Dryshia was a brat with boundary issues so I was careful when she was watching, and Pihu terrified me now that she had a glimpse of how she affected me, but Nitara was so cold towards me that I didn't think to watch her.  That was a mistake.  I never did understand that her icy control was there for a reason, that she had as much passion as Dryshia the brat, but lacked the confidence of Pihu the queen to let it adorn her like a saree in regal unconcern, so she bottled it where I couldn't see it.  She was therefor the dangerous one, and the one that caught me out.

I was watching Pihu brush her glorious raven hair, my blush had crept up slowly, slowly enough I hadn't noticed my cheeks heating up, my upper chest where my loose fitting sweats exposed showed the splotchy red of my blush and my sports bra did a terrible job of hiding the erectness of my nipples.  I assumed because I had not betrayed my interest with obvious oggling or facial expression that my cold disinterest mask was protecting my secret.  Nitara read me like a diary entry, and played me like a sittar or veena.

"Pihu, you should let Andrea do that.  I mean she gets all relaxed from watching, how much more relaxed would she get if she was brushing.  Besides, she should be giving something in return right?"  Nitara's tone was hard and flat, a statement of fact, not a suggestion or debate.

Pihu turned and offered me the brush, "Would you like to attend me Andrea?"

I was out of the chair and across the room before I could process the question, I wish I could describe how I felt when she asked me to "attend her".  My brain stuttered as my libido danced a happy dance and I found myself doing a little curtsy like we were taught to offer the judges in ballet before one of our Royal Academy exams as i accepted the hairbrush from her hand like some sort of royal favour.  The girls all shared a knowing giggle.  I ignored them as hard as I could and lost myself in the glory that was Pihu's hair.

I tried to turn out the conversation, but it turned sexy as they ignored my presence as just another piece of furniture and talking candidly about dating.

"I can't believe you haven't fucked Vivek yet"  Dryshia said.  "I mean all the girls he has had swear his cock is as long as my arm and he is better with it than his cricket bat"  Which considering he did make the British under 20 Cricket team was saying something.

Pihu arched her back like a cat, suddenly so amazingly sexual as she caressed her sides and breasts in memory and shuddered as she spoke.

"Are you kidding? I want to marry him, not just be another one of his conquests.  I have enough trouble when I blow him because I end up so turned on all my rules about no sex before marriage are so close to out the window I scare myself.  I will have him to keep, and that means waiting.  It is driving me insane though"  Pihu moaned.

Nitara asked "Why don't you let him kiss away your problem, I am sure the way he talks his tongue can take more than just the edge off for you" Nitara said as she ran her finger over her panty line suggestively.

Pihu stamped her foot and her eyes flashed angry.

"I CAN'T.  Don't you understand, I let him kiss me and the next thing you know my breasts are in his mouth and I am climbing him like a cat begging him to mark me.  There is zero chance I let him into my panties and I don't leave full of his cum.  I would rape him, I swear to the gods.  I need to get rid of this tension or I am going to go INSANE!"  Pihu screamed.

Nitara snapped at me "Andrea you stupid girl, look how tense she is.  You are supposed to be a jock and med student, why aren't you doing something about that tension?"

It was true, more from my training as an athlete than from my medical studies so far, but I had extensive training in massage for injury and tension relief.  With a look to Pihu for permission, which she gave with a distainful wave, I began to massage her neck and shoulders.

I was taken in by her skin and muscle.  She was more muscular than she looked, her skin gliding like liquid bronze over supple curves.  I followed the knots of tension until she mewed like a kitten under my fingers.  I was growing wet, so wet and my breath was coming in panting gasps as I was growing intoxicated like with too much beer too fast.  I had never actually been overcome with desire, and did not really have any defense against it.  Outside the athletics field, I am ruled by reason, not passion and I had no experience with what she was bringing up in me.  No experience and no defense.  

My sweatshirt is loose because of my breast size (oversized to fit them, or tight like a drum to fit everywhere else is what I have for choices), and it caught on Pihu's hoop ear ring, causing a pain filled gasp.

Nitara smacked my ass so hard it stung "Be careful you overmuscled cow, you hurt her!"

I stammered how sorry I was, but caught Pihu wiping a startled tear from her eye and froze with horror I had caused it.

Dryshia the brat smugly offered a suggestion at any other time I would have utterly rejected.  In the moment, I didn't even question it.

"That sweat shirt is the problem, take it off so you won't hurt her again."

I had the sweat shirt off before she was done, three sets of eyebrows went up in surprise.  Nitara snapped my sports bra and glared at me.  Without a word it came off too and my heavy breasts swung free.  Pihu had her blouse down around her elbows to allow me better access to her shoulders, and I could feel my nipples grazing along her back as I massaged her.  Nitara was filming with her camera as she watched me massage Pihu's shoulders and back.  She was talking the entire time.

"Oh my god, she really is a cow.  I assumed those things were fake but those big white tits are real.  She is an actual Barbie doll for us to play with.  They are real aren't they Andrea?"

Dryshia walked behind me and cupped my breasts, tweaking my nipples, causing me to whimper like a puppy.  She grinned and said "Yep, those are real white udders all right, and really sensitive"

I opened my mouth to object when Dryshia smacked my ass cheek as hard as she could, shouting at me in one of her instant tantrums.

"Lazy cow, just because you spend all day in sneakers like some want to be boy doesn't mean real women do.  Poor Pihu has been walking all day in heels and her feet are killing her.  Why don't you massage them for her and make her feel better?"

PIhu turned an looked at me, she eyed me calmly and said quite reasonably.

"Friends may do each others hair, and sisters, but servants wash and massage other women's feet.  I couldn't ask that of Andrea, unless that is what Andrea wanted."  She paused, held out one foot in four inch heels.  I could see a henna tatoo done on her foot like a delicate tracery of flowers over her perfect skin.  I suddenly burned to see more.  I suddenly yearned to be more.

"Please Pihu, let me do this for you.  I have to do something to pay you back for how wonderful you make me feel.  Let me do this for you.  I would be happy to serve you"

There I was, sitting at the feet of Pihu, massaging her feet as she toyed with my breasts with the foot I was not working.

That is when she called me what I was to become for her.

"Such a good pet you are Andrea.  I mean I knew i wanted a pet.  I wanted a cat but they aren't allowed in residence.  They gave me a white girl instead.  I should have known it was as a pet.  Think of all tie time wasted,"

She said it as a joke, but something inside me broke and I kissed her feet.  She proffered her toes and I sucked them into my mouth.  Pihu stood and took off her slacks and panties.  Nitara yanked down my sweat pants and pulled them off of me as I crawled forward between Pihu's legs to kiss her darkly forested valley of delight.  Slowly, hesitatingly, I began to kiss, lick and suck at her beautiful Indian pussy.  Soon she was moaning and calling me terrible names.  Cunt lapping slut, white dyke, worthless white whore, and the one that made me cum myself.  Slave.

Pihu came on my face so hard she stopped breathing, her hands knotted in my loose red hair so hard I feared she would tear it out.

She pulled my face up to her's and she kissed my eyelids, then my forehead in soft benediction, in blessing.

"Oh my dearest Andrea, you are the solution to my problem.  You will keep my tension down so I can wait until marriage for Vivek.  You won't mind doing that for me will you?"

I hugged her awkwardly and cried into her bronze belly, face pressed beneath her black bra "Please Mistress Pihu, let me serve you, let me do anything to please you."

Nitara pulled me back by my hair until I was on my knees facing her, then she put my face down to her feet to begin kissing them.  Dryshia the brat took the hairbrush I had been using on Pihu's hair and began spanking my upraised bottom, enjoying the red marks it left and the bouncing of my tightly muscled white ass.  

Pihu stroked my back as I kissed my way up Nitara's legs towards the panties she was pulling down to meet me.  "Don't worry about becoming a lesbian, I think if you do a good job on keeping Nitara and Dryshia happy too, I will let Vivek have all three of your little Christian holes to keep him satisfied until he has finished his degree in business and is ready to take me back to India to marry.  If you are really good, I will bring you to the wedding as part of the entertainment"

I buried myself in Nitara's dark Hindu pussy, my fingers knuckle deep in my own.  I had made myself a slave to my Hindu room mates, my only hope of not being a lesbian for life, was the thought that she might pimp me out to her boyfirend to discover if Hindu men could be as much superior as Hindu women has already proven themselves.