Princess or Whore

Thanks to the anonymous supporter who provided the story. It's my words but his ideas and we both hope you enjoy it. As with all interracial stories, these are fantasies that explore themes intending to titillate those that are interested. They're not meant to espouse a worldview. Just to entertain.

---

The cold air whipped through the Midway as Priya wrapped her coat tightly around herself to protect from the frigid wintry wind. She chastised herself, not for the first time, and her decision to pursue not one but two post graduate degrees in this god forsaken hell hole of Chicago. And on top of that she'd accepted the job offer they'd given her after she graduated. She never thought she'd miss the heat of New Delhi but when it was -7 celsius and a windchill of -15, you found yourself missing a lot of things. She should have left.

Priya's hands were frigid because she'd stupidly forgotten her gloves in her office. Because of that, she was reduced to quickly walking across the park with her hands shoved in her pockets and her head tucked down as she tried to keep as much of her face behind her jacket collar as possible. She hated this place.

She hated it not just for the weather but also the faculty. It was awash with right leaning economists and law students. Part of that right leaning attitude was why they hired her, however. The University eschewed affirmative action policies but still had a need to show diversity in hiring. So an indian, female, highly qualified alumni was a perfect fit for them. It gave Priya comfort to know that she'd managed to pierce the white man's academic boy's club at the University. That had been 8 years ago and now she was a well regarded, tenured professor. She had students of all races who respected her and she'd helped to mint 37 PhDs in that time. While it wasn't a competition amongst the professors, she'd be winning if it was. A fact she always tried to slip into conversations that got a little too competitive.

Priya rushed the last 100 yards to the warm safety of the corner coffee shop. Despite the relatively late hour, the place was incredibly busy. Some people liked hot chocolate. But not Priya. She had developed quite the love of coffee... or maybe addiction was a more apt description. She usually drank a cup after work and another mugful a couple hours before going to sleep. She loved the buzz she got from it and sometimes wished she could just where one of those stupid beer hats but filled with hot coffee during the day.

After ordering her drink, she grabbed her coffee and cupped it in her hands, sipping the scalding dark liquid in an attempt to fight off the chill in her bones. The seats were all taken. Nobody wanted to go outside without drinking their hot mana from heaven. A man in a dark black trenchcoat stood up from one of the tables leaving a seat open next to an elderly couple. Priya walked up and politely leaned over, "Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked.

"Oh... no, dear. Absolutely not," the woman answered. Priya smiled, they seemed like a very nice couple. She sat down and started sipping at her coffee, avoiding eye contact with everyone as her mind drifted to her latest research project. She barely noticed when the older couple stood up and it took a gentle tap on her shoulder before she heard the question now being asked.

"Do you mind if I have a seat here?" came the voice. It was a deep, thrumming sound and she was so struck by the tone that she hardly noticed the british accent.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, looking up at the man who towered over her. He was in his mid 30s and well dressed. He had a long coat and a scarf around him with hints of snow still spotting along the right side of his coat. His small, golden glasses sparkled and the red and black short beard was well maintained. Priya couldn't help but study him as something about his appearance clicked for her in a way she wasn't used to. She shook her head and forced a smile at the man intruding on her precious coffee, "Of course. Have a seat."

"Thank you, love," he said and sat down. Priya bristled at the appellation but knew it was a cultural thing. He couldn't know that it was overly familiar to the point of inappropriate. They sat in silence sipping their coffee for a moment before the man, once again, interrupted her academic thoughts. "It's quite cold outside," he said.

Priya shot him a look, "Yes. Quite," she said, trying to indicate with her tone that she didn't want to talk to him.

"I'm Ben? Ben Chilwerth... and you are?"

"Not interested," Priya said and turned away.

"I was just trying to be friendly, Miss," he said.

Priya ground her teeth then decided she simply couldn't let this go, "It's Ms and why do men always assume that they have the right to talk to women who obviously don't want to talk to them?"

"I'm sorry," he said looking not at all sorry but obviously trying to end the conversation regardless.

"And why did you think you were entitled to join me? I could have had someone with me. Or do you just assume because I'm Indian I'm alone?"

Ben was taken visibly aback. In a span of 30 seconds he'd been accused of being both sexist and racist having said only a few words to the woman. Nevertheless, he tried to rally and smiled back. "I noticed you sit down with that older couple that you weren't with. I just assumed that was the etiquette here. Was I wrong?"

Priya started to say something and then shut her mouth realizing that her overreaction was being properly identified. She still wasn't willing to let it be, however. "You're welcome to sit here but you're not entitled to my conversation."

Ben smiled and nodded, "Fair enough but I don't think anything I did indicated I was 'entitled' to it."

"You talked to me unsolicited and unwanted," Priya said and sipped her coffee.

"If nobody talked to anybody unsolicited then we'd far fewer conversations in the world," Ben said and smiled back.

Priya paused, realizing again that she'd been in the wrong. Once again she changed tacs, "You have to appreciate how the fact that you're British carries certain burdens when dealing with an Indian woman."

Now Ben was confused and he furrowed his brow as he weighed his words. "I'm sorry... I don't."

"Colonialism? The occupation and exploitation of India? If you're that ignorant of history I suppose I could forgive you but I don't suspect you are," Priya said, smiling at him as she felt like she finally scored some points.

"So... because my grandfather spent time in India I can't talk to a beautiful Indian woman in a coffee shop?"

Priya felt her cheeks flush a little. 80% of that was because of the unexpected complement. 20% was because of the fleeting image of Ben Chilwerth in a starched white british dress uniform. "No... you just... should be expecting rejection."

Ben laughed and Priya found herself liking the man's mirthful chuckle in spite of herself. "As a man, I'm pretty much trained to expect rejection when I approach a woman."

Priya spoke before thinking, "I seriously doubt that with the way you..." Her words trailed off as she realized what she was about to say.

"I'm sorry... What were you about to say?" Ben asked, staring into her eyes.

Priya spoke slowly and carefully, "Well... you're obviously an objectively attractive man so I suspect you don't get instant rejections very often."

"Different women have different tastes. But it's nice to know what yours are," he said and took a sip. Before Priya could respond, he continued, "You still haven't told me your name."

"No... No I haven't," she said and sipped her coffee. Ben simply smiled and nodded back and the two sat silently for a moment enjoying the warmth of their drinks. "Are you a professor here?"

"I am... International Economics," he said.

"What are you studying?" she asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

"The degree to which World Bank efforts to help third world countries actually succeed."

Priya smiled, "I think they've been a huge impact."

Ben frowned slightly and Priya was surprised, "That's the laymen's opinion but it turns out the short term impact is muted by fairly rampant corruption while the long term opinion is actually a substantial decline in GDP."

"So you're saying that the rich countries should just keep their money and lord it over the rest of the world?"

"I don't think I was saying that at all," Ben said as he placed his hand on the table next to, but barely not touching, Priya's hand. Priya started to flinch but fought the instinct. The two continued to argue with each of Priya's arguments being casually rebutted by Ben. Priya realized that it wasn't a fair fight, this was his area of expertise not hers so all she was doing was giving him easy strawmen to defeat. Eventually, Priya gave up and shifted the subject. She couldn't bring herself to get up and leave yet. Every logical thought told her that this man was, at best, backwards thinking. And yet ever instinct in her body was saying something very different to her.

"I'd like to see you again, Ms..." he let the question hang in the air.

Priya simply smiled, "Sure. I'll be sure to study up on you so that I'm better equipped to argue against your ridiculous position."

Ben looked at her, eyeing her up and down for the first time. Up to this point, Priya had been acutely aware of his lack of any overt perverted intent but for an instant he let his guard down and the look he gave Priya made her shudder. "Fair enough," Ben said, "But since you won't tell me your name maybe you'll do me a different favor?"

"I doubt it but it can't hurt for you to ask," she said dismissively.

"Let me choose the restaurant. I'll pay or we can go dutch but there's a little French restaurant I'd like to try. La Azur, you know it?"

It was Priya's favorite restaurant and she smiled broadly, "It's the restaurant I would have picked anyways," she said with a smile.

"Excellent, then you HAVE to let me pay," he declared as he stood up and left a tip large enough for both of them on the table. Priya started to say something but Ben was already starting to step into the bustling coffee shop. Suddenly he turned around and said, "Oh... you'd look particularly fetching in a red saree. Just some advice."

Priya was speechless at the audacity that he had showed. Giving her advice on her clothing choice was so beyond the pale domineering that she really had no immediate response. Instead she sat there and watched as he drifted off and out into the cold, dark night.

Priya finished her coffee, still unsure of the torrent of emotions running through her and desperately trying to suppress the image of Ben Chilwerth towering over her in a crisp military uniform.

---

The next night, Priya was extremely conflicted. She did have a red Saree and it did look very good on her. She was standing in front of the mirror wearing the rarely worn garment. She turned side to side and ran her fingers across the material. Her mother had worn these every day even after they came to America. Her father had insisted. Priya had had to wear them as a child but quickly phased them out of her wardrobe when she started high school. She had one of her only real fights with her father over the issue but she'd stood her ground which, ultimately, her father had respected. He'd raised her to be strong and if the price of that strength was a willfulness about traditional clothing than he was fine with that.

Nevertheless, Priya looked at herself and liked what she saw. She'd stopped wearing the garments because of what it said to onlookers. They made certain assumptions. But now that she was wearing one again she rationalized a different line of thought. "Nobody's entitled to assume things about me because of what I wear. I shouldn't be forced away from my cultural heritage because other people are bigoted." Satisfied with that line of reasoning, she decided to wear the saree tonight. Not for Ben. But for her. Definitely for her.

She wrapped herself in a heavy overcoat and once again went out into the infernally cold air of Chicago. Despite the chill, Priya felt a heat within her. She was looking forward to this date. To seeing Ben again. To seeing Ben's face when he saw her in the red cotton dress. She smiled to herself, already forgetting her self-declared reasoning for wearing the garment in the first place.

She arrived at the restaurant and was greeted warmly by the maitre'd, "Lovely to see you again, Ms. Patel," he said as he took her coat. She saw his eyes widen momentarily at the unexpected garment but he kept his thoughts to himself which Priya appreciated. "Would you like your usual table?"

"No, Henry. I'm meeting a dinner date here..."

"Ahh... yes... Mr. Chilwerth arrived only a couple minutes earlier. He didn't ask for you by name so I didn't..."

"It's fine, Henry. Thank you," she said as the small man pointed towards Ben. She looked and saw him studying the menu, not yet aware of her arrival. She walked purposefully, acutely aware of the way the fabric moved across her skin. She felt surprisingly sensual dressed like this and the thought brought an unfamiliar turmoil to her stomach... and elsewhere.

Just as she approached, Ben looked up and smiled an almost sick grin. It wasn't the look Priya had imagined. It wasn't warm and in awe. It was knowing and arrogant. There was no surprise on his face. As if to prove her thought, he nodded slightly and said, "Thank you."

"Thank you?" she asked.

"For wearing what I asked you to," he said, staring at her. Gone was the kind, almost bumbling british professor from early in the night before. Now he was the person she'd glimpsed so briefly at the end. She felt hunted.

"I'm not wearing it for you. I'm trying to reconnect to my roots," she said.

"Uh huh," he said as his eyes scraped across her body. She could practically feel the phantom touch and she knew that her nipples were likely betraying her. The smile that tweaked the corners of her dinner partner's lips confirmed it. "You know what I think?"

"What?" she said. She met his gaze at first but something about it overwhelmed her. It was like his gaze was piercing through her and looking into her soul in a way she wasn't comfortable with. She unconsciously flicked her eyes down to the white linen of the table cloth. The thin white fabric would make a very erotic saree her mind told her.

"I think you have... issues... some might call them kinks."

Something about the way Ben said the word 'kinks' made her uncomfortable and she had to fight the urge to squirm in her seat. He continued, never taking his eyes from hers, "I think you want... No, excuse me... I think you need to explore them. And I think you don't want to explore them in a completely... shall we say? Safe way?"

Priya listened to the arrogance spew forth from the British man. She wanted to throw her napkin at him and storm off but she couldn't bring herself to do it. He captivated in a way that frightened her. "What do you mean... not safe?"

Ben looked hurt as he placed his hand over his heart and tisked slightly. "No no... nothing like that. My... no. My dear girl, I simply suggested that maybe an element of danger and risk were what you were seeking. Tell me I'm wrong."

Priya squirmed as the images that flitted through her head came unbidden. Images from her youth. Images of acts that captured the hormonally flooded mind of her youth. Acts that she'd thought she'd moved past the obsession of. It was a moment before she realized that Ben had implied a question with his accusation. "You're wrong," she said with a bare whisper.

Ben smirked again but leaned back, "Well my apologies. I won't dwell on it." Suddenly the nice, relaxed man from the night before was back. Their dinner proceeded largely uneventfully. Priya was almost prepared for Ben to order for her. She got that vibe. But when she started to make it clear she was going to order for herself Ben took her completely off-guard. "Why don't you order for me. This is your regular haunt so I suspect you know the very best options for a newcomer."

Priya looked at him and then back at the waiter. Her confusion was momentary and she quickly rallied, ordering an expensive wine and her favorite meal.

"Oh? I rate a bottle of wine now?" Priya smiled at him sardonically and he pressed on, "But still not your name?"

She shook her head, "But I would like to talk about your theory that the World Bank hurts those they lend to."

"Certainly. What would you like to know?" he said. Priya could sense the way he dropped instantly into professorial mode. She knew that she tended to do it as well and it was a nice connection to make with a man that she, superficially at least, seemed to have so little in common with.

The two of them discussed the issue and while Priya was much more versed in the subject matter, having spent several hours the night before familiarizing herself with the relevant theories, she realized very quickly that Ben's argument wasn't transparently fallacious like she'd hoped. It's flaws, which she was still certain it had to have, were likely abstract and non-obvious. Nevertheless, Priya enjoyed the cut and thrust of arguing with a fellow academic and she didn't even mind the mild mansplaining that Ben dropped into occasionally. After all, this was his field of expertise. He was entitled to explain a few things to a neophyte.

Before long, the dinner had been finished and so had the desert. They discussed their life stories. Priya's family had historically been in the lowest caste in India and had moved to America to get away from the oppressive system. Being a Shudra, or laborer, had put them only one touch above the untouchables and allowed very little opportunity for them to get ahead in the highly structured social order of colonial India.

Conversely, Ben's great-grandfather had been a provincial governor in India for a time. He'd married a royal woman and earned the title of maharaja and Viceroy as a result. Their children had all been educated back in England, as was customary at the time. Ben's grandfather met a nice girl at Oxford and never returned to India. Priya could see the faint hint of Indian ancestry now that she looked and it made Ben Chilwerth and even more attractive specimen as far as she was concerned.

Priya suddenly became very self-conscious again as she realized she didn't know how to end the date because she didn't know how she wanted the date to end.

"Maybe we can share a cab ride home?" he asked.

"I assume you meant share a cab ride to our respective homes?" she retorted.

"If that's what you want, then of course." The predatory look was back and Priya realized in a startling moment of self-awareness, that she liked it. Bumbling professorial Ben Chilwerth was likeable. But Ben Chilwerth the cocky hunter was... intriguing. He stood up and offered her hand which Priya took without thinking. When he placed his hand gently on the small of her back, she froze for a brief moment. She wasn't sure if she wanted it lower or not. But his hand never sank lower as they walked out. He leaned forward to open the door and she caught a whiff of his scent. It was a simple mix of aftershave and soap which she found refreshing. She liked a clean man. Ben quickly waved down a cab and they stepped into it to get out of the chill air. The night wasn't nearly as miserable as the one before but it was still unpleasant for anyone who was caught outside for too long. As they bundled into the cab, Ben fell in next to her. Just a little closer than was appropriate. Their legs touched and his hand found her knee. She watched as his strong hand and thick thumb rubbed gently at the fabric covering her legs.

Priya looked at him. Their faces were inches apart and she could feel the heat radiating off of him. Priya knew he could feel her own in return. "What do you want?"