****** The Fertility Tantrik by bluebeard@wolf-web.com ******
===============================================================================

The Fertility Tantrik


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 neighbourhood 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, they were ushered in by
a middle-aged woman in saffron-coloured sari, who told them to wait while the
Swami finished his pooja. The Swami gave them dharshan after about half an
hour. He looked a bit younger than the woman they had just met. His face was
framed by shoulder-length hair and a long beard, 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 lead her through a maze of corridors to a medium sized
room. The fragrance of sandal wood 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 view points. 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-
airconditioner. 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..

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 vapours 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 a 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
energised 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 neighbourhood. The Swami performed a pooja to
invoke the assistance of the gods in her favour, during which he took her
sexually. Infuriated by this, she was gripped by hysteria and vocalised 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 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. Her
lips were stretched by his huge rod. Her will was getting subdued by the herbal
water she had consumed, 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
enclaved 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 realised 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!


By bluebeard (bluebeard@wolf-web.com)

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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