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Sadhu's Tantra
10-22-2011, 10:22 PM
Post: #1
Sadhu's Tantra
Ravi and his wife Sarada were silent as they walked home from the
temple. Sarada no longer took note of the passers-by secretly ogling
at her beauty. Before she got married, it used to excite her to see
those youngsters sneering at her with lusty eyes. Her beauty had not
declined a bit, even now. She had been so proud of her perfect body.
The men in the neighborhood would come out and wait to see that face
of hers which spelt sensuality. They knew her timings, when she would
come out to water the plants or go to the temple or market. She, too,
relished the attention, secretly though, as modesty is the code for
women here. But her present mental disposition was one of despair for
her fate. Two years after the marriage, she hadn't conceived. She had
been to the temple to offer flowers to the goddess as she celebrated
her twenty-eighth birthday today. Or was it celebration? In this part
of Southern India, the culture has not changed much, in spite of the
smell of technology that emanates from every household. The wife is
invariably blamed for not conceiving, as it meant she was devoid of
fertility. This could only denote a curse from the gods. Sarada could
see the change in the attitudes of her in-laws, though her husband
showed no despite. The shame was killing her mind. This was a stigma
every woman would pray not to be afflicted with.

She found some solace whenever she visited her friend Devi who lived
in the other end of town. These were the only times she could indulge
in light-hearted exchanges, forgetting her burden. During one of her
visits, she met Kamala, an old friend of Devi's. Soon they became
close friends, maybe due to their minds being tuned to the same
wavelength. Kamala shared her grief when she confided in her about her
'curse'. Kamala also told her about Maharishi Swami (a god-man) who
had divine powers. He could 'cure' the barren-ness of one of her
relatives who had not conceived for over four years! He is truly a
spiritual who took no money for his services. Sarada saw a streak of
hope now, and inquired more about the Swami. Kamala offered to take
her to the Swami the subsequent week. Sarada did not want her husband
or his family to know about this, so they planned to go secretly.

When they reached his ashram situated in the outskirts, a middle-aged
woman in saffron-colored sari, who told them to wait while the Swami
finished his pooja, ushered them in. The Swami gave them dharshan
after about half an hour. He looked a bit younger than the woman they
had just met. Shoulder-length hair and a long beard framed his face,
but he was of a sturdy build. After welcoming them with a pleasant
smile, he inquired their purpose. He listened silently while Sarada
timidly described her history and her present fate. She hesitantly
looked at Kamala when he asked her some intimate details, so he
requested Kamala to wait in the other room. Without Kamala's presence,
Sarada felt it easier to answer his questions that included how many
times she copulated with her husband in a week, how much sperm did he
ejaculate, how long he took for ejaculation, her menstrual dates and
so on. He went on to ask her other details like her place, date and
time of birth and then explained to her some particulars of the
special pooja he would have to perform. He referred to an astrological
chart and fixed the dates. Once he starts the pooja, she must not stop
in the middle. He would have to perform certain rituals on specified
dates spread over eight to twelve weeks. He gave her an amulet that
must be worn touching her body. First, she must come for performing
'anusthan' on the seventh day from that day, after sunset and after
taking a bath. She must not consume meat during that day.

Sarada was excited to think she would soon conceive. She had no doubt
about it. After the six long days elapsed, she informed her husband
that she had to go and stay with Kamala who was not keeping well, and
left for the ashram. The bath made her feel fresh. She got down from
the autorikshaw a few furlongs away and walked to the ashram, as she
didn't want to take chances. The same lady opened the door and led her
through a maze of corridors to a medium sized room. The fragrance of
sandalwood was strong as incense sticks smoked away in a corner, in
front of an idol. An electric lamp with a cylindrical shade hung from
the ceiling, creating a bright spot over a small wooden platform at
the center of the room. The rest of the room was relatively dark. She
was shocked when the lady asked her to remove all her clothing. She
had never exposed her body to anyone save her husband. But now she was
driven by an urge, and would do anything to reach her goal. Moreover,
she was exposing her body only to the god of creation in the form of
the Swami. Yet, the culture she belonged to had taught her that
nakedness in front of a man other than her lawful 'owner' is a shame.
With great reluctance she unfurled her sari and handed it to the
woman. She felt almost like in a dream as she peeled the sleeves of
her blouse down her arms and slipped off her brassiere. Removing the
petticoat (a long inner-skirt worn inside the sari) was much more
difficult, but she did it. The other woman left the room, taking the
clothes with her.

Sarada stood completely naked when the Swami made his appearance. She
touched his feet with reverence and then was seated on the wooden
platform, cross-legged facing the idol. He motioned to her to keep her
hands on her knees and close her eyes. In a low voice he instructed
her to focus her mind on the deity iconised by the idol before her. He
studied her body, now bathed in the spotlight. He changed his sitting
posture slightly, to conceal the bulge in his loin-cloth (which was
the only clothing he had on). The beauty of her face had no comparison
to any woman he had hitherto encountered. Her breasts were sumptuous,
sporting 3inch areolas with nipples that were beginning to stiffen,
for the fact that in spite of her closed eyelids, she was aware of his
gaze. But the globes were firm and strong, hardly affected by gravity.
He saw no flabbiness anywhere, but she had just a bit of extra fat
distributed at just the right places, which had that seductive effect
on him. Yet, he was in total control of himself.

His techniques were refined, and he knew precisely when to strike. He
eyed the lotus, her womanhood. It was enshrined in a forest of thick
black curls, but the cross-legged posture made the petals open just
enough to reveal the pinkness of the core. He savored the perfection
and symmetry of the lotus, that no master craftsman could dream of
re-creating. He had seen several dozen lotuses in this 'career' of
his, but had never chanced across something like this before. Her
buttocks were ample with chubby cheeks that evolved into exquisite
thighs, the texture of which added greatly to the effect on the
Swami's manhood. He stood up and walked around to study this splendid
specimen from other viewpoints. There was a hint of the shoulder
blade, which extended to where her upper-arms united. Her back curved
slightly inward, bisected by the thumb-wide channel that flowed from
just below her neck almost to the cleavage between the buttocks, a
view intermittently obstructed by her soft long hair that flowed
graciously in the mild breeze from the window-air conditioner. The
woman had a body that would have broken a sanyasi's vows! Yet the
lotus, he observed in his mind, appeared fresh and unused.


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10-22-2011, 10:22 PM
Post: #2
RE: Sadhu's Tantra
He presently seated himself on the carpet between her and the idol, in
front of which were kept various utensils for performing the pooja. He
began chanting a mantra that was unintelligible to Sarada's naive
intellect. She began to get a strange feeling of elatedness, which she
attributed to the divine forces working in her. Little did she know
that the incense sticks put forth not only the fragrance, but also a
mild intoxicating fume that escapes detection by the olfactory system
of humans? The effect was being supplemented by the low-pitched rhythm
of the Swami's chanting that was designed to produce a hypnotic state
of mind. The vapors had little effect on the Swami, for his threshold
was grossly above the present intensity. Having produced the desired
effect, he paused the chanting, took a sip from a small bowl
containing 'theertham' (holy water) and placed it on Sarada's lips,
instructing her to drink of the sanctified bowl leaving not a drop.
The water had a tangy taste, as it was impregnated with certain herbal
extracts, the formulation of which the Swami alone knew. He touched a
gray, silky power in a goblet with his thumb and marked the center of
her forehead with it (called the 'tilak'). He resumed the chanting and
dipped two fingers in a dish of special oil, and rubbed it over each
areola and nipple, holding the breast with the other hand. She was
almost in a trance now, and the touch on her breasts kindled her
sexual instincts.

He instructed her to lay back and spread her legs, presenting her yoni
to the deity. With her buttocks still resting on the elevated
platform, the vaginal lips spread out to display her lotus in all its
glory. The Swami poured a few drops of the oil over her lower abdomen
and rubbed it in a circle over her womb. He then used his fingers to
apply the oil over the fortress of her lotus, the cunt mound. With his
palm, he rubbed it over the pubic hair and gently kneaded the mound.
He looked up and saw that her response exceeded his calculations. He
dipped his fingers again in the oil and worked them around on the
petals, the labia, using his other hand to open it wider. A sensation
of ecstasy gripped Saratha as she writhed with the divine manipulation
of her reproductive components. Never before had she experienced such
divine pleasure. This was nirvana, bestowed on her by the heavenly
powers, she thought. The Swami was now drenching the inner walls of
her love-passage with the holy oil, using his index and middle fingers
in a rhythmic motion in both the radial and axial orientations.

He continued for a while, relishing the tautness of the vaginal
passage. He maneuvered with finesse the fingers of his other hand over
her clitoris, the seat of passion. His fingers played her organ like a
virtuoso's gliding over the keyboard, exercising absolute control. He
paused when her physical responses sloped upwards to an orgasmic hill.
His timing was immaculate. She panted with frustration, but the stress
was calculatedly mild. He resumed when she reached a ground state, and
paused again, but at a slightly delayed point. After half a dozen or
so of such administrations he had gradually increased the intensity of
her frustration. When he saw the time was ripe, let her finally cross
the orgasmic peak, which ripped her body and soul like peals of
thunder. The force with which the orgasm overpowered her left her
limp, yet she felt energized by the feeling she had never felt before.
Her faith in the Swami's power was absolute. The effect was barely
over when she was instructed to sit upright once again for concluding
the present pooja. It was past midnight, and was provided a cozy bed
to rest until the sky bore signs of dawn. She was given a second
amulet and a date for the next session, the most important pooja.

Unlike Sarada, the Swami was left unquenched, through a deliberate act
of his own design. He nevertheless had to attend to his cock already
so wet and impatient. After Sarada had left the place, he summoned the
woman who assisted him, and ordered her to bring the most recent of
his disciples, Sunitha by name. Sunitha had sought his divine
assistance to reunite her with her newly wed husband who had banished
her when she condemned him for his amorous relation with a woman of
the neighborhood. The Swami performed a pooja to invoke the assistance
of the gods in her favor, during which he took her sexually.
Infuriated by this, she was gripped by hysteria and vocalized threats
to expose him. But he used his abundant resources to secure her as a
captive in his ashram, and converted her into his slave within a span
of three weeks by forcing her to regularly consume a narcotic herbal
formulation. This was but one of his methods to recruit disciples. It
also happened, though very rarely, that his methods failed to produce
comprehensive results. Under ( www.indiansexstories1.com ) such a circumstance, he had no option but
to eliminate the subject's physical existence. However, he carried out
such executions in the most elaborate and torturous manner, often with
the audience of his male disciples who belonged to the sphere of
power, both political and influential. Almost the entirety of his male
congregation belonged to the psychological clan that derived pleasure
from beholding and partaking in sexual and physical degradation of
females. His snuff shows, though scarce, were very popular among his
elite male congregation. On one occasion, the victim was the wife of
the local MLA who desired to get rid of her.

When Sunitha was brought to him, he ordered her to unclothe herself
and to attend to his phallus. She served his manhood with her mouth
till it ripened to gigantic proportions, and then offered her lotus in
an inverted mating ritual. She performed the yogic rite for an hour or
so before her yoni was accorded the first and the most lavish spray
from his lingam (phallus). But the Swami surmised that her duty was
not over yet, compelling her to re-enact the holy act in a variety of
positions. It was only due to the energy of her youth and the effect
of the narcotic substance in her blood stream that she could fulfill
her duty to the satisfaction of the Swami. He relieved her after his
third or so ejaculation, when her energy was almost spent. But a while
later, the Swami's phallus desired further attention, for which he
called in his assistant again. This lady, Radha by name, was in her
mid thirties and had earlier been the one to constantly provide carnal
gratification for his voracious sexual appetite. But presently he had
a great choice of disciples for the purpose, and used her only on
occasions. He now required oral services, an art she had perfected.
She had mastered control over every muscle of her lips, tongue and
inner mouth, and her oral administrations surpassed the effect of a
teenage cunt.

Back in the confines of her house, Sarada's face had a glow as she
performed her daily chores with cheer. The domestic drudgery that used
to drain her energy no longer tired her. She seemed to have an
infinite source of energy! She wore a freshly woven jasmine array on
her head as she approached her husband at night. His cock responded to
her strokes, but emptied its meager load into her long before she even
neared the orgasmic hill. She was disappointed, but longingly held his
sperm inside her for a while before going for a wash. But she could
not have even this privilege the following night or the night after,
for he needed several days to recuperate. Nevertheless, she was a
happy woman now. She had been to Kamala's house to share her
happiness, but refrained from giving her details of the pooja. The day
appointed for the second ritual drew near, and her excitement grew.

It was a dark amavasa (new moon) night when she reached the ashram,
all alone. The same woman, Radha, welcomed her with a smile and
escorted her to a room different from the earlier one, where the Swami
was seated in meditation. This time she had to undress in his
presence. Radha deposited Sarada's clothes in a chair by the other
corner and stood by. This room had a different idol, a male god in
standing posture with an erect phallus that extended horizontally. It
was intricately carved in wood. The wooden platform at the middle of
the room was large, and had pegs and curious fixtures around it making
it look more like a sophisticated surgical table, but with very short
legs. The Swami placed a 'tilak' on her forehead with the silky ash
and gave her a bowl telling her to drink all its contents. She felt it
burn inside as she drank the holy liquid, but consumed all. She then
went down on her knees as told. The Swami removed his loincloth and
stood before her, pointing his enormous phallus at her face. She was
astounded at the size of the penis. The only adult penis she had ever
seen was her husband's, which was small enough to almost fit into her
hand. She was almost in a reverie when he ordered her to take it in
her mouth. She was stunned. It took her quite a while to come out of
the shock. It suddenly dawned on her that he intended to fuck her! She
just couldn't decide what to do. She couldn't even run away without
her clothes. Before she realized it, Radha gripped her arms as the
Swami took hold of her head and forced her to admit the phallus into
her mouth. He held her by the hair as he pumped it in and out. His
huge rod stretched her lips.

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10-22-2011, 10:22 PM
Post: #3
RE: Sadhu's Tantra
The herbal water she had consumed was
subduing her will, and gradually she started to follow instructions.
With disgust she sucked the immense cock. But the repulsion faded with
time and her erogenous instincts surfaced. Her attention on the
phallus increased. She now used her hands to hold it, and no longer
needed to be restrained by the woman. But when his cock touched her
throat, her reflexes twitched her face away. His hands, however,
strongly held her head in place as she struggled, and brute-forced it
into her gullet till his testicles struck her chin. He fucked her
mouth vigorously, her struggles being no match for his muscular clamp.
She twitched about aimlessly, for her lungs begged for air.

The Swami withdrew after a long while, leaving her gasping and
panting. He made her lay on the wooden 'bed'. Now she revolted and
struggled as he and his assistant forced her on the plank and tethered
her wrists to the corner pegs. She begged to be freed, but the Swami
seemed not to hear her as he spread her thighs and tied her legs to
the raised fixtures on either side, apparently designed for the
purpose. Her yoni was presented in the most delectable exhibition. She
had never felt so vulnerable and exposed. She continued to struggle in
vain against the leather bands that bound her. She screamed with all
her energy hoping to attract a kind soul passing by, not knowing the
design of the premises. She quit screaming only when her throat became
unmanageably dry.

The Swami smiled and told her that she was about to receive the gift
of fertility from the god before her, and that she must conserve her
energy to withstand his power. His mesmeric voice quieted her for a
while, and she fell back into a trance as she was reminded of her
purpose. The effect of the herbs was intensifying. He sat at the foot
of the platform and commenced chanting an endless rhythm of mantras.
He occasionally sprinkled floral water on various parts of her body
without ceasing the chant, furthering his hypnotic spell. He then
paused for a while and walked to her head-side. He bent forward,
locked his mouth over her ornate lips and sucked hard. Though this did
shock her, her body was now in an aroused state of sexual bliss and
she responded involuntarily. His tongue, like a snake, flittered and
twisted about in her mouth enhancing her sexual intoxication. He then
kissed her nipples, one by one, and began fondling her magnificent
breasts. Gentle at first, but increasing the pace and intensity until
he was kneading with great vigor, and they assumed a reddish tint as a
result of the exercise. Her husband had never shown her the pleasure
of foreplay, for he was ignorant. The Swami then kneeled between her
wide-open legs and closed his mouth over her lotus. He used his tongue
on the petals of her cunt for a very long time, as she writhed in
ecstasy. He then closed in on her clitoris and sucked in a pulsating
rhythm till her reaction indicated an impending climax. He withdrew to
avert the orgasm. Her mind was revolting now, as she saw what was to
happen. But her will was now fully submerged in the exotic
intoxication rendered by the herbal mixture.

He positioned his cock over her lotus and let the tip wander over the
terrain enslaved by the black forest, rubbing around and over the
petals now glistening with the thick moisture that oozed from within.
He then placed it at the entrance of her yoni, and let his bud peep
inside. He thrust until just another inch gained entry, and withdrew.
She raised her buttocks in an involuntary crusade to capture it back.
He toyed with her organ in this manner a couple more times, the way a
cat toys with its catch. When he could take no more himself, he thrust
in the entirety of his throbbing cock till it knocked the inner door
of her womb. The tautness of her almost virgin cunt strived to squeeze
his cock with a peristaltic action as it plunged in and out. He tried
using her breasts as a hold for his maneuver, but they were too large
and firm to offer a grasp. So he held on to the full-sized nipples
between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, giving her intense
pain. The pain, nevertheless, was soon sunken in the pleasure. The
spontaneous moans that escaped her mouth grew in intensity, building
up to short screams. Feeling the depths of her passion ignited, she
quivered and fluttered endlessly till she exploded into a firework of
heavenly rapture. The sounds that escaped her vocal chord were neither
screams nor growls but something in between, and continued for several
minutes till her orgasmic explosions faded down. But the phallus of
the god that brought forth such unknown pleasure, had more to do. The
Swami continued his rhythm as she climaxed again, and yet again.
Finally he saw the time was ripe to plant his seed, and thus timed his
ejaculation with her next orgasm. The inner mouth of her uterus
palpitated, swallowing greedily the generous spray of the water of
life bestowed by the god to fertilize her womb. She realized what the
Swami had meant by 'the power'.

She lay relaxed. The feeble revolt of her mind was being overcome by
the physical contentedness and the realization that her purpose shall
be fulfilled. In her dazed mind, she even pictured herself with an
infant in her womb. She must have been in her dream world for a long
time, when she saw the Swami come over her and present his pendulous
yet big cock to her mouth, and pressed on her lips. He ordered her to
take it in her mouth, but she rebelled and begged him to release her.
He punished her disobedience by strongly pinching one of her nipples,
and thrust his member when she opened her mouth to scream. She finally
gave in to his threats and started sucking his cock. But the effect of
the herbs was weaning gradually, and she sobbed piteously. She felt
cheated. The chastity she had cherished for long, was shattered.

She could not face her husband. The Swami's manipulations of her teat
made her resume the sucking, as he desired, till his manhood bloated
to original proportions and stretched her lips wide. He took position
again between her raised thighs, and commenced an encore of the mating
ceremony. She was now slipping back to her original self, but her
contemplation of what had befallen her was interrupted by the
onslaught of another violent orgasm. The pleasure engulfed her again.
But the Swami embarked on yet another encore, his masculinity matched
by her virgin energy. He ceased his attack only when his pleasure was
attained in full. Sarada felt utterly spent, but fulfilled. The
intensity of the enjoyment she derived from all this renewed the
strife that tore her mind between the pleasure, the shame and the
goal. Radha made her appearance now, released Sarada and helped her
dress up and rest in another room for a while. Sarada was surprised at
her motherly gentleness, after what she had seen just a few hours ago.

The Swami retired to his chamber, where he pondered over further
actions. He was a careful man, and took no chances. He considered the
potential risk from this new bitch, whether he would have to 'recruit'
her as an inmate. But he knew her psyche well, and saw no challenge
from this category of bitches. He was certain about her incapacity to
divulge of her adventures to even the closest of kin. He was proved
right, as sure enough, she did turn up for the next 'session' in less
than a week! The addiction to the genre of sexual pleasures he
conferred on his subjects exceeded that of any known narcotic
prescription. He was a master in his art. The torment of deprivation,
mixed with her resolve to attain her goal, brought her to his feet yet
again. And the Swami played his part to perfection. So much so that
she literally became a disciple of his, though not with 'inmate'
status. She visited the ashram regularly to receive his pooja of
insemination. She conceived and bore a healthy male baby, bringing
back pride to her womanhood. Her in-laws showed great respect toward
her, for a male child is considered a divine gift. Divine gift, it was!

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