DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The characters in this story have been made up. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions or attitudes. This is story is intended for adult entertainment only. All Rights Reserved © 2017 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Cohesion, Corruption, Young, NC, Rape, Bondage, Sadism, WS, Drug use, MC, Black Magic, Devil Worship, Demons, and Evil themes.
THE GURU CHAPTER 4 TO 6 – SYNOPSIS
About Kali, the Goddess of Kundalini.
Kali Mah has many names; the Goddess of Kundalini, the Black Mother, the Serpent Goddess, the Demon Goddess, the Goddess of Death… just to name a few. Kali’s most common four-armed iconographic image shows each hand carrying variously a sword, a trishul (trident), a severed head and a bowl or skull-cup (kapala) catching the blood of the severed head. The sword signifies divine knowledge and the human head signifies human ego, which must be slain by divine knowledge in order to attain moksha. The other two hands (usually the right) are in the abhaya (fearlessness) and varada (blessing) mudras, which meant her initiated devotees (or anyone worshiping her with a true heart) will be saved, as she will guide them here and in the hereafter. In some, less common depictions, she carries a wriggling serpent.
About Guru Swami Vishnu dubbed ‘Shaitan Guru of Kolkata’.
Controversy seemed to enshroud this illusive man that had been labeled as the ‘Shaitan Guru of Kolkata’. Shaitan means literally devil or evil spirit and as the Guru Swami Vishnu notoriety grew, so did his cultish following that rode upon the wave of alternative eastern medicines and healing power through extreme yoga and tantric sex spawn from what was referred to as the ‘Fire of Kundalini’.
It had been alleged that the Guru Swami Vishnu and his inner circle of brahmacharis (novice monks) were all in fact homosexual pedophiles, rapists, murderers and even cannibals; that they worshiped some kind of hermaphroditic serpentine deity that demanded perverted sex orgies as well as human sacrifices to sate demonist appetites.
Of course, these outrageous claims were never substantiated, mainly because those that had accused the Guru Swami Vishnu simply seemed to disappear. To better understand this wicked man and his wayward disciples, our protagonist, Lewis Gracie, a young, handsome and homosexual private detective poses as a ‘potential follower’. Once inducted Lewis quickly realizes that he is out of his depth and in danger of losing his mind as well as his life.
THE GURU – CHAPTER 4 (2,206 WORDS)
“The Hindu Goddess Kali Mah is no different than Satan. The Bible says for “the things which the gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to devils, and not to God” (1 Corinthians 10:20). The fierce Goddess Kali is the goddess of change, power and destruction – she compels her followers to commit mass rape and murder. In nineteenth century India there was a cult dedicated to the worship of Kali, called the Thugees. The film, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, portrays the Thugee cult as a murderous group that commits appalling sex acts and even human sacrifice: The reality is that there was indeed a Thugee cult in India and they did commit mass human sacrifice by the millions, but not by putting people in lava, rather they would rape and strangle their victims to death. According to the Guinness Book of Records the Thuggee cult was responsible for over two million deaths.”
The malevolent urge.
The Guru sipped from contents of the half skull cup, much like a connoisseur would taste a rare vintage of wine. Half filled with fresh brahmacharis semen, the Guru allowed the creamy liquid to slide across his lips and tongue – it tasted slightly bitter and salty and had the visceral scent of bleach. Semen was the elixir of demons.
Yes… The Serpent moved inside of him. He felt its venomous presence. Evil things would soon follow. Creation and destruction were equal and opposes of the Fire Temperament. Let it all burn. From deep within his testicles he felt an acute ache – a deep longing for his own sexual release. His meditational masturbation had prolonged his sexual charge for many days now feeling the wickedness of the Serpent coiled and uncoiled. Now the time was close.
His return to the perverted Temple was always a time of dark celebration, sex and death. Several young brahmacharis’ would soon perish – but for the greater good and in the honor of the Fire Demon. Their sexual energizes would replenish his own. It was the way. They would serve their purpose to him and to their Goddess Demon. Yes! Yes! Again, he felt the Serpent move.
Indra had contemplated cutting short the rest of the Guru’s visitations. He had suspected for some time that their activities may have gained the unwanted attention of the local authorities – it had been very lucrative with the acquisition of almost half a million in funds and some three dozen new brahmacharis – comprising of about a dozen young men and twice as many young boys, some as young as eleven or twelve years old.
These Caucasian boys would be prized back in the Kolkata ashram as white sex slaves among the Swami’s wealthy and influential disciples. Many would not last a year before they either died from the complications of multiple rapes and sexual abuse or were offered up as human sacrifices to win the favor of cannibalistic Demon, Kali, whose unpredictability led to the death of many of their brahmacharis white or local.
Yes, Indra thought, tonight he would recommend to the Swami to leave for the relative safety of their home away from home, that he called Little Kolkata, immediately after the last of the treatments. They would then plan to leave until the heat was off. It had been the way they had operated for many decades.
He was already high aroused in anticipation of the early evenings activities – he had witnessed the Swami lustily fuck a nice young blond boy that he had under his mind control. The boy had bleed from the ferocity of the Swami’s carnal sodomy; performing the REVERSE KANDALINI, sucking the boys energizes. Indra had envied the two other bradmacharis cleaning the Guru’s blood and shit-coated cock with their mouths after the fact. The Guru’s sexual appetite was always relentless, his cock never flaccid as he never allowed himself to ejaculate fully – orgasm was not the goal for his extremely perverted priest. His goal was to serve their secretive idol – the Serpent Goddess herself.
Indra, dressed in a simple white dhoti that was nothing more just a loincloth, welcomed the new initiate. His name was William Boer or Billy for short. He seemed to be perfect. Shorter than average of slight-to-slender build with little or no body hair – easily feminized, his anus would be filled with Indra’s hard black cock within the hour – and though it was expressly forbidden of the Shaitan Swami’s monks he longed to taste his hot salty semen as it sprayed in the back of his eager mouth. But then again Indra was not one to follow everything that the Guru said – taking what he wanted when the Guru was in private meditations.
Billy seemed quite accepting of his invitation to remove his all his clothing and though it was quite normal for his new initiatives to be aroused to half mast by the intoxicating miasma of powerful aphrodisiacs – he could not but take note of Billy’s fully erect cock, that seemed to immediately drool pre-cum as if highly aroused to the point of almost spontaneous ejaculation. This of course must not happen. Semen was the sole territory of the Shaitan Swami and the food of the demonic gods… he would be angered beyond measure for the waste of this precious ‘life force’ enhancing fluids.
Indra thought back to his own induction in Kolkata. It had been his eleventh birthday when his mother and father had so proudly presented him completely naked before the great Guru, his father had knelt before the Guru offering the little money they had to accept him at as one of the brahmacharis. Though it was a great honor for his family, he had been afraid, especially when the perverted Guru had openly fondled his tiny cock bring it immediately to erection. He had been so unsure at the time, but he remembered the pleasure he had felt as the Guru tasted his pre-cum and given his consent to accept him before his proud parents and his peers.
Later he would come to realize that the Guru had two groups of young monks at the evil sex temple in Kolcatta, those with homosexual and bisexual tendencies, who he groomed to perform increasingly profane sex acts with him, with the other more senior brahmacharis’ and with each other; some of these boys displayed feminine tendencies that were encouraged in this regard – they wore make-up and grew their hair long under the stewardship of the Guru’s hijras or the third sex that, like the Serpent Goddess, were blessed with both generous breasts and fully functioning penises.
Then there was another group, made up of the more reluctant young boys who exhibited behaviors that showed they shared no joy in sex with other boys, even disgust at the acts that they were forced to perform nightly for the Guru. They wined and cried. The fear of the FIRE was always with them. They never lasted long. Their flaccidity and tears of fear only made the Guru more excited as he offered them to the great Serpent Goddess, killing them only after they had been anally raped before her demonic statue for many hours. Their sexual organs would be removed and added to a profane necklace of severed penises that the Guru wore at special sacrificial rites. These dead boys would also become Indra’s primary source of protein as they would be cooked and served as part of the many strange rituals in the evil sex temple.
Lewis found himself in a deep floating sensation. He tried to remember what it was that he was supposed to remember, but he was clasping at straws. Vivid moments preceded long lapses of indecisiveness and pleasurable vagueness. He had an assignment, an important assignment, but the recent past was such a blur as he knelt naked before the dark statue.
From in front of the translucent screen he could make out the naked blue-black figure with a radii of multiple arms, the face of a fearsome devil. Her tongue was long and red and hung from her grimacing lips. Her eyes held no sympathy or compassion as they were filled with hatred and a disturbing death lust. This was the face of pure evil. In one hand she held a bloody knife, another held a spear and yet another held a wiggling serpent – the fingers of the forth hand clutched the hair of a recently severed head, its blood still dripping from the exposed veins and arteries. Around her neck hung the skulls of her victims, damned souls that screamed in eternal agony from gaping mouths of ivory – this daisy-chain of death hung heavily against the Goddesses full bosoms that were capped with the thick phallic nipples dripping not with mother’s milk, but with the semen of the devil. As his eyes rested between the Goddesses thighs, he noticed she was not completely female… a serpentine penis, stood erect and excited curving obscenely upwards from between her open legs that danced upon her headless lover – dancing to the exotic Indian beat that filled his ears.
“Mr. Billy. Remember how his words must be followed. Remember your love for the Guru. Remember how you worship him.”
Lewis’ body was filled with a new lustfulness that he had never experienced before; he felt an arm reach around from behind him with strong and purposeful fingers that wrapped themselves around his incredibly stiff penis. These fingers closed around his engorged organ, stroking him delightfully. Lewis let out a low groan. The primitive beat pulsed in tune with the fervor of his sexual pleasure – so delightfully that he fell in love with the exquisite movements that masturbated him to the brink of a rapturous orgasm and kept him there on the brink but deigned him the release.
“Mr. Billy. Remember how his words must be followed. Remember your love for the Guru. Remember how you worship his cock with your mouth, hands and anus.”
His pre-cum leaked in copious quantities, lubricating the fingers of his masturbator. The pleasure was almost torturous. At the same time there was a dull pressure placed against his oily rectum. An anal intruder pressed upwards through his stretched sphincter. He felt his bowels yielding. The painfulness only added to his bizarre desires.
As the disembodied voice talked about more and more about perverted sexuality, about sex magick, about tantric sex, about phallic worship, about the sexual worship of the Guru… a profane ritual of masturbation, fellatio, anal sex… the sacred opening of sphincters during the act of sodomy as a holy consecration…
A hot wet mouth sucked at the nape of his neck and a hand groped his tender testicles that ached with their unspent semen. He was desperate for orgasmic release. His mind pleaded, but it never came – just endless vexing pleasure. Soon his bowels felt full of thick nigger cock, thrusting upwards with every beat of the urgent drums further and deeper inside his shit tunnel, pressing with each impaling stroke against his ripe prostate – quadrupling the anguishing pleasure.
Yes. He remembered the words… profane words of devil worship that formed taboo images of a young women having sex with a horned goat; several Indian nigger-boys fucking the limp body of a newborn; the evil Guru defecating into the open mouth of transgendered disciple as another sucked and masturbated the Guru’s enormous penis; naked monks copulate whilst a young white boy sodomized… then castrated in a shower of blood, his arms and legs bound and stretch out in a tight x-shape before the idol of the black devil goddess…
The curtain rose before him and the kneeling figure of the Guru stood up as the grunting of his sodomizer echoed around him and the pounding death drum dictated the rhythm of his ass-fucking. The Guru’s hands moved rapidly in unison as he pleasured himself, stroking his twitching twelve inches of black wet flesh.
“Mister Billy.” Cooed the disembodied voice. “Worship your Guru… Worship him with your hands and mouth… Now Mister Billy…”
Lewis felt completely lost in burning passion. He had never felt so compelling to do anything before in his entire life. The beautiful Guru stood before him. The Guru’s huge penis stood upright as his hand stroked over the protruding veins that cross-crossed its wrist-thick shaft. Now the Guru was right in front of him. He could smell a strong odor of stale urine and the aroma of spent semen.
“Pleasure him! Pleasure him!” Grunted the dispassionate voice between anal thrusts.
His eyes focused on the Guru’s cock. He wanted to taste it – to wrap his and hands around its shaft; to take the wet bulbous knob between his lips; he wanted it in his mouth where he could wrap his tongue around it. He knew only love and hunger for this man.
Lewis knelt upwards, meeting the thrusts from his sodomist, at the same time craning his neck to lavish the Guru’s cock with all the gusto he could. The three figures moved together lustfully… Lewis had long forgotten his initial reason to be in the company of these malevolent lovers… is investigation assignment now erased and lost to conscious thought.
THE GURU – CHAPTER 5 (2,705 WORDS)
“Kali is a female deity, naked, black or smoky in color, wearing a mala of 108 human skulls, representing the memories of different births. Kali’s lolling tongue of blood red color signifies the rajo guna (passion) whose circular movement gives impetus to all creative activities. The sacrificial sword and the severed head, held by the left hand are the symbols of dissolution. Darkness and death are by no means the mere absence of light and life, rather, they are their origin.”
“Please relax Mister Billy.” Cooed the corrupted Indra with a warm seductive smile. “The Guru is masturbation-meditating the scriptures of the ‘Fire of Kundalini’ before the dual sex Goddess – it is the source of life, spontaneous power and male sexual prowess… it will enable you to overcome any suffering. The way of the Guru will bring you new joys of the serpent phallus that only sharing our maleness together may bring… do you understand?”
The young handsome man nodded dreamily as he inhaled the poisonous fumes that perverted his mind and stripped away any resistance to Indra’s sexual advances.
“Remove all your ridiculous western clothing and be in your natural state before your great Guru and show him your willingness to be cured… to submit to him and his devotees… submit to him before the Black Cock Goddess… accept the sex demons that now flow within you, compelling you to serve their wickedness.”
It was to Indra always a moment of total elation. It was one of the many joys and reasons he served the evil sexual Guru. His own cock stiffened sharply beneath his plain white dhoti the moment the young man removed his cloths before him. The skinny young man looked delicious to Indra – he was already imagining ramming his black cock to the hilt up his boney little ass. Indra’s sexual power over ‘Mister Billy’ was absolute and had brought this new initiate to full erection without him even touching him; such was his susceptibility to Indra’s seductive patter.
There would no further need to disguise his sexual intent – as he had felt the homosexual attraction between them. Indra guided him before the Guru, who knelt in contemplation behind the curtain. He knew the Guru would be watching. Indra wasted no time discarding his dhoti and crouching behind the new initiate. He stroked the flesh of the young mans arms and legs drawing closer to his genitals with every successful movement. Finally his fingers danced across the flesh of his penis, touching and toying with him at first – then he wrapped his slim fingers around the shaft, drawing the man’s foreskin up and down over its wet head in perfect time to the beat of his beloved Taal rhythm. Slow, slow, fast, fast, slow, slow, fast, fast… his masturbation mantra was driving his victims crazy with forbidden lust.
“Aarrrrgghhhhh…” Groan Mister Billy subconsciously.
Indra’s tongue tasted the salty heat from the young neck. He liked this one a lot – he was going to enjoy a nice long ass-fuck with him and let the Guru wait his turn. He pressed his weight against Mister Billy, whose body automatically moved forward until he was on all fours before Indra. Indra’s hands momentarily stopped masturbating his, as Indra positioned himself, pressing the head of his own cock against Mister Billy’s warm sphincter. A number of short pushes, pressed the crown of his penis inside and as his hands returned to Mister Billy’s cock, he leaned forward, drilling his shaft further and further up the white boy’s backside. Yes, the pleasure – so tight and delectable. How Indra loved fucking white trash – the only thing they were good for.
The Deputy District Attorney, Michelle Powers, checked her messages. There was nothing from the private detective, Lewis Gracie. Not a word. She was sure that he was onto something and it was not like him not to come back with a regular update. She was sure that there was a connection between the ‘missing persons reports’ and the young man that claimed to have been abused by that Indian guru. She needed an indictment after the money that had been spent on tracking him down and the department wanted closure on this rather sordid business. Her intuition on matters was usually very good and this one stunk to high heavens of something incredibly bad. Damn Lewis, what was he up to?
Her thoughts on the assignment shifted to think about the lithe young man that always made her heart beat a little faster than usual. His fair complexion framed by his shoulder-length black hair. So young, so delicious. She allowed herself the fantasy of undressing him in her mind, imagining him naked before her – so slim and wiry, almost like a young girl, yet dynamite between her legs. His penis would taste of his sweat nectar that she longed to drink. Thinking about his bodily fluids fueled her crazy little daydream. She shuddered involuntarily. Oh what a daydream. Her generous breasts heaved and her nipples stiffened bullet hard as she longed for his succulent, almost feminine lips to feed upon them, to lactate into his mouth. What a kinky thought – for this young stud to milk her. Oh my god! She felt dizzy.
She would encourage him to nestle between her open legs. Her cunt wanted his pale long fingers, his wiggling tongue and his twitching cock. Oh the thought of his delicious cock thrusting into the roof of her mouth, into her dripping hot cunt. She would go on all fours and beg him to fuck her hard in the ass – to take her in the most humiliating manner, to forcibly sodomize her against her will (the illusion of which she found so forbidden). She thought about a threesome – her dream boy with another young hot and sweaty boy, performing explicit acts together, boy-to-boy for her illicit enjoyment… bisexual… transsexual… hyper-sexual… Oh Jesus Christ! Oh Mother Mary… she blasphemed and immediately felt the instant pleasure of guilt. Sin! Sin! Sin! Sinning was so delicious!
Alias, she was bound to convention and to the responsibilities of her life, her job, her husband and her family. That old fat bastard who could no longer get it up; so sluggish and overweight. The rolls of fat in his gut hung over his groin so much so that the old bastard could not longer find his limp and shriveled cock. His tiredness of contagious, making her cunt dry and arid – she was reduced to finding secret relief with one of her many dildos or vibrators, fucking herself and dreaming of her favorite young detective lover, whose nubile young body could fuck her into the most exquisite of orgasms. But as the orgasm faded, the reality was sometimes too much to take.
The poisoned soul.
Lewis dreamt uneasily. He was far away in a place where he knew neither how he got there nor what to expect. Reality and dream seemed to intermingle. Pain and pleasure intermingled. He remembered he had an assignment – an important job to do. There was purposefulness to what he was doing, but for the life of him, he could not remember what that assignment or what that purpose was. Everything seemed so hazy. His memories seemed to have been tampered with, his vision of the future limited to that which the Guru’s brahmacharis had reprogrammed into his mind. He belonged to them.
The service of the Guru seemed to all that mattered and even that was a complex web of contradictions. The dreamlike state invited introspection about all that he had been shown. A disembodied voice talked in his head… about more and more about perverted sexuality, about sex magic, about tantric sex, about phallic worship, about the sexual worship of the Guru… a profane ritual of masturbation, fellatio, anal sex… the sacred opening of sphincters during the act of sodomy as a holy consecration.
Lewis looked up at the blue-skinned devil. His eyes traced the many armed form and its hideous adornments. The sword blade gleamed in the artificial light of the secretive temple. The blackish blood dripping from the severed head dripped with an unnerving realism. The Serpent’s eyes seemed to follow his ignorant stare. These eye burned into his very soul.
“Mister Billy. You must not be afraid of her.”
Lewis blinked heavily to try and refocus his eyes in the direction of the voice. It was that India guy… Indra. He extended a hand and helped Lewis to his feet.
“She is a devil to those who oppose her. She means pains and death. She is the savoir to those worship her. She means endless pleasure and bliss. What will she be to you?”
Lewis held onto Indra for support. He felt so strange – somewhere between awake and a dream. He must focus on the moment – to hang onto reality for all it was worth. He was trying to remember his assignment, but could only connect the desire to know to his desire to serve.
“She ignites the ‘Fire of Kundalini’ – I can see it in your eyes and by the hardness of your lingam.”
Indra steadied him. Lewis swayed but felt able to walk. He was aroused. His penis had been stiff for an eternity it seemed. Hard and wanting. He needed relief – he needed to be brought to an earth shattering orgasm.
“There will be a celebration here tonight and you will pledge yourself to her. But now the Swami Guru awaits you in his private temple. You will be honored with special duties for the Goddess tonight.”
Special duties? Yes. He thought, he would serve the Guru in any way he wanted.
The Evil Serpent.
The young Vishnu opened his eyes… his Serpent eyes. The world seemed a very different one to one before. Instead of his desire use the power of the ‘Fire of Kundalini’ to heal the world; was now the desire to transform it in the likeness of that of the Serpent Goddess – his all-powerful mistress that beckoned him to follow, to kneel, to appease her wanton shecock.
Vishnu knew that his vision could not be realized without the help and willing participation of others. The Goddess wanted him to teach his fellow brethren the secrets that he had just begun to appreciate. He had to look no further than the young brahmacharis that shared the small communal space that they slept, washed and prayed in. It would be the most natural and furtive recruitment ground. Atul, Hem and Jumai where all about the same age as Vishnu and like him had come from very poor families, pressed into the service of the Swami on the promise of a better life and godly enlightenment. Their families left them to their fate – whatever that would be. Vishnu had seen their slender golden brown bodies naked on many occasions, as they slept, bathed and lived closely together for the past few months of their lives. But something had fundamentally changed – with the awakening of the Serpent, Vishnu looked upon the other brahmacharis in a new and more excitingly sexual way.
The first to fall prey to his intentions was Atul. He was the smallest of the boys in the communal room. Whilst Hem and Jumai were away doing their working duties, Vishnu approached Atul, who was bathing before his prayer time. Vishnu offered to wash the young boy and immediately paid special attention to washing Atul’s genitals, rubbing the boy’s penis between his soapy hands until it began to reluctantly harden. Atul seemed very coy and shy about it but at the same time he made no attempt to stop his roommate slow molestation. He just groaned lowly to him – like a cat being stroked. Vishnu removed his own dhoti and guided Atul’s hand to touch his excited penis in a similar way, wrapping the boy’s small knuckles around his throbbing cock shaft. Atul looked as if he was in a trance; knowingly doing something wrong, but pretending it was not, Atul complied with all of Vishnu’s corrupted intentions.
“Aghhhhhh… that it… aghhhhhhh… Rub it Atul. Rub my Lingam harder… arghhhh… that’s it… keeping going Atul… arghhhhh… that’s good.” Encouraged Vishnu, making sure the boy pleasured him to the maximum.
Changing tact, Vishnu pressed the effeminate boy’s head down between his legs, remembering the meditation vision, he wanted to experience the wet pleasures of being sucked off.
“Aaaghhh… Atul… Suck my Lingam Atul. Suck it harder… Aaagrhhhh… that it – suck it until the white stuff comes out. Agghhhhhh! Yes! Atul… Yes!”
Atul did exactly as he was told, almost trancelike. Vishnu lent back against the wall of the bathing room wall. Now he held onto Atul’s thin bony shoulders for support as he thrust his hips upwards fast and fast into the small warm orifice of his roommate. It felt incredible. Better than he had imagined. The boy’s mouth created the perfect suction, whilst his fingers kept rubbing Vishnu’s cock shaft. He felt close to cumming. The white stuff would fly out of the end of his cock and the intense pleasure would take over. Yes, he was close and could not wait. Vishnu prayed to the Goddess with each and every thrust – asking her divine blessing.
When Hem returned after his duties to their sleeping quarters, he quietly washed and then lay down on his blanket to rest. He was very tired but was surprised to see both Vishnu and Atul lying both completely naked together on the same blanket. This was not allowed in the ashram. At first he thought they were just resting… asleep maybe, but then he noticed how Atul’s breathing was uneven and sounded erratic with forbidden excitement. He sat up and could now see that Vishnu was actually penetrating the younger boy – his erect penis pressed firmly up Atul’s rectum. He could clearly see Vishnu persistent thrusting in and out of Atul’s shithole – and Atul pushing back against him with equal force, driving Vishnu’s cock further inside him.
Hem’s cock began to stiffen immediately watching this reprehensible and completely taboo act. If their Swami found out, they would all be in no end of trouble. This sort of behavior was not acceptable in the ashram and they would be thrown out and humiliated by the Swami. But despite the consequences, his hand snaked beneath his damp dhoti and he started stroking his cock as he watched the two young boys fuck harder and harder, completely oblivious to his presence in their sleeping room.
Hem slipped his dhoti completely off, so he had better access to his own genitals, rubbing himself faster and playing with anus and testicles as he watched the two forbidden lovers eagerly. Maybe when Vishnu was finished fucking Atul, he would let him taste his ass-flavored cock?
“Oh my goodness…” Exclaimed Jumai. He had been standing at the sheet-covered doorway for a few moments taking in the sight before him. He was deeply shocked. He saw not only Atul being fucked by Vishnu, but Hem masturbating himself whilst watching them. It was scandalous, depraved and aberrant – but still Jumai could not look away. He kept looking and watching as his own cock twitched and lengthened uncomfortably inside his dhoti.
The scene played out, not in Vishnu’s meditation vision, but in reality and soon the four of them were all sucking and fucking each other in every conceivable combination. Vishnu felt stronger with the support of his roommates – all of which seemed eager to know more about the Serpent and the Serpent Goddess.
Vishnu knew that the Goddess would be pleased with him. He could feel the Serpent in his anus every time he was sodomized. Vishnu was not a well-endowed boy by any means nor was his three young lovers – but the Serpent’s black magick seemed to infect them, poison them – soon their little boy penises seemed longer, thicker and unquenchable in their need for sexual attention. They tasted each other’s bodily fluids… firstly their saliva, their sweat, their pre-cum, their semen and then their urine. The four brahmacharis secretly worshiped the Goddess under Vishnu’s watchful eye… until it seemed that nothing else mattered to them – nothing.
THE GURU – CHAPTER 6 (2,643 WORDS)
“Some other gurus say that anal sex can reverse the flow of the sexual energy in the passive partner. Many ancient texts warn about anal sex or what they refer to as the REVERSED KUNDALINI. They often say that the sensation that appears is a chill followed by strange, scary and exciting thrills at the same time.” Firstly warned the Guru. Then he quickly added… “What they call abject and degrading experience of the REVERSED KUNDALINI, that is supposedly deeply noxious to the psychic and to the mind and it also weakens the body physically is simply a mistruth and false myth. After copious experiments with anal sex and in fact all forms of sexuality associated with MALE HOMOSEXUALITY I have found the FIRE of KUNDALINI only to burn stronger and more intensity. They lie because they are afraid to admit their lack of vision and narrow perception of sexuality.
The blood sacrifice.
His Swami Guru Sinha could feel a change in his young brahmacharis. He was not sure what it was all about – but he had his suspicions. He ordered the young Vishnu and his ashram colleagues: Atul, Hem and Jumai to join him in the Guru’s private meditation room. It was one of the only places in the Ashram that had a lockable door and to be ordered there could not be a good thing. They reluctantly complied with their master’s orders.
When they all entered the room, the Guru was already seated upon a small prayer matt. His legs were crossed in a lotus position. His eyes opened at the presence of his student and he nodded to the students to each be seated immediate in front of him. Vishnu complied. The other sat similarly. Vishnu sat in a similar position and waited for the Guru to speak. There was a long pause of complete silence. The Guru never said a word. It was driving Vishnu crazy, he was getting impatient and he started to fidget.
“Young Vishnu, you seemed distracted. Consumed in your own thoughts.” Said Guru Sinha without opening his eyes – more a statement than a question.
He had become concerned lately about his brahmacharis missing some of his morning meditations and conspicuously absent from doing their duties around the temple.
“Have you been contemplating the three Secret Temperaments?”
“No Swami I haven’t.” He answered flatly.
“But you know that they are the building block upon which all divinity stands. The contemplation is essential in your training.” Reinforced the Guru. He opened his eyes now and looked directly at Vishnu. His disquiet was obvious.
“I have been contemplating the ‘Fire of Kundalini’.”
“The Fire?” The Swami looked puzzled and somewhat annoyed. “We talked about the dangers of getting lost and confused in the Fire.”
“Yes, but you omitted to tell me about it’s pleasures!”
“Yes… the pleasure of serving the Serpent Goddess.”
Just speaking these words out loud caused Vishnu to feel a rapid stiffening beneath the thin white fabric of his white dhoti. What a rush.
“The Serpent Goddess Kali?”
“Yes… she appeared to me in meditation vision and shared with me the secrets of her illicit dance… its transformational pleasures… the inner Serpent aroused a new and incredible energy within me…”
Sinha looked a little confused, maybe a little afraid. Yes, there was definitely some fear in his expression. The Serpent moved in Vishnu’s loins… as it did in the others. They all stood up and circled the Guru.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING… I AM YOUR MASTER!” Exclaimed the Sinha.
“What can we learn from a weak master who is too afraid? Why bow done to a guru is powerless, worthless, and sexless…”
Vishnu stood up and pulled aside the thin fabric of his white dhoti. His cock seemed to spring forward, uncoiling like a snake. No like a Serpent! It was thicker and longer than ever – completely disproportionate to his body size. The other boys watched in mild amusement and seemed to enjoy Sinha’s obvious shock at the boy’s nudity and brazenness. They too ripped their dhotis away to display their corrupted and oversized phalluses (they appeared child-like with man-sized erections) – all standing proud, rock hard and weeping with clear ropes of dripping cock juice.
“We all have been praying to the Serpent Goddess and she has gifted us with the power of the Serpent… the blessed COCK SERPENT moves within us!”
“Vishnu… dear Vishnu! What have you done?”
“It’s not what I’ve done – but what we’re going to do!”
Hem and Jumai grabbed the weak old man by his flimsy arms, twisting them and holding him in an awkward kneeling position before victorious Vishnu. Atul looked on excitedly and began masturbating himself. With one hand, Vishnu grabbed the old man’s long oily white hair and pulled his head back sharply, with the other hand, he ripped the Swami’s clothing from his frail old body.
The Swami tried to fight back, but there were too many of them. He coughed and chocked as he felt hot sour liquids squirt across his face and directly into his mouth – filling his open orifice and stinging is throat. The strong smell of urea and salty taste confirmed that Vishnu was pissing in his face. He spluttered in an effort to reject this foulness – but Vishnu was simply too strong and Vishnu’s iron grip forced him to remain where he knelt naked in a pool of stinking yellow urine.
“Taste the waters of Kundalini” Groaned Vishnu pressing his rock-hard cock into the Swami’s powerless mouth.
There was a brief muffled cry that escaped the Swami’s polluted lips; he stared upwards wide-eyed; and then there was silence as Jumai slit his throat in a cascade of crimson blood. The body slumped forward and fell to the floor.
“Lock the door.” Commanded Vishnu. Young Atul immediately compiled.
The boys now placed their hands in the spreading redness and smeared it across their faces, chests and abdomens. Vishnu pressed his blood soaked fingers against the lips of his new disciples that had now proved their loyalty beyond doubt.
“Taste the Fire.” He repeated over and over as they all began to masturbate furiously over the lifeless body.
Vishnu pulled the Swami’s body before him and kneeling between its spread thighs. Vishnu pressed the tip of his erection deep into the furrow of the corpse’s anus and thrusting forward he sank his snake-like cock up onto the dead bowel of their expired spiritual leader. Vishnu grunted animalistically as he started to fuck the corpse with much gusto. He felt the power flow like a warmth into his body, into his muscle tissue, into his bones… the fire burned strongly as he sodomized the dead thing. The others continued to rub their oily cocks, waiting for their turn to take any vestige of power left in the old guru.
The Temple of the Guru Swami Vishnu was located in Sonagachi (North Kolkata’s centuries-old prostitution district). It was just one of a thousand nameless temples along the lower Ganges Delta and looked like a squalid place surrounded in high bricked walls topped with nails and broken glass – to keep the unwanted out and the wanted in. The old Temple was more industrial than religious and more prison than sanctuary.
Indra knew intimately the sprawling and impoverished cityscape of Sonagachi with its endless shanty towns made of corrugated iron sheeting and plastic tarpaulins; its jaded nineteen-century architecture; and rabbit warren of dark narrow alleyways most filled with accumulated trash and its familiar stench of human garbage, raw sewage and the putrid smell from the nearby river.
Inside the Temple, it was perpetual night, as the windows had all been painted out black from both in the inside and out. No natural light ever reached the internal workings of this evil place – only oil lamps and fat candles burned down as they caste their eerie illuminations across the shadowy art that adorned the painted walls that were covered with pornographic images of naked figures, mostly men and boys, dancing and fornicating in celebration of their worship of the Goddess of pederasty.
“Muga Muga Dug. Muga Muga Duh. Kali Kali Tiaag. Kali Kali Mah.”
The rancid air hung thick, hot and stifling. Indra watched three of the Guru’s insouciant disciples take turns in fucking a beautiful young slave boy. The first was thrusting hard into the boy’s torn rectum as the others held him down against the altar soiled with blood and feces. Undignified and humiliating, the urine-soaked boy sobbed into the hard leather ball gag that tasted of vomit and blood. More disciples looked on enviously at the prized fair-skinned body of the twelve year old as he danced in complete agony, like a tattered rag doll, upon the disciple’s cock.
“Muga Muga Dug. Muga Muga Duh. Kali Kali Tiaag. Kali Kali Mah.”
Looking across at the raised platform where the Guru was seated, Indra could see the fetor of sexual sweat of ceremonial masturbation coated the pasty skin of his beloved and corrupted Guru. The Guru was luxuriated upon his throne-like seat as he watched over the profane ritual. Two very young Indian boys, no older than nine or ten years, each took turns in pleasuring the Guru’s fetid cockmeat – one sucking its hideously engorged purple-black knob, while the other stroked its thick veined shaft from tip downwards to the heavy testicles filled with his unspent semen.
“Muga Muga Dug. Muga Muga Duh. Kali Kali Tiaag. Kali Kali Mah.”
The faithful were calling for the sacred hijras to bless their offering to the serpentine Goddess Kali. The hijra priestesses were feminized young males – most were transgender but none had been castrated yet. Tonight they were not adorned in their usual white and slivered salwars – but were decorated for a different sacred dance.
The temple crackled with erotic electricity and all eyes were turned to watch. As the raw persist throb of the Taal beat filled the ears of temple gathering, the chants of the devil-possessed brahmacharis joined in the cacophony. Each of the elegant hijra priestesses had colored their skin from head-to-toe in blueness – even their flaccid cocks and testicles were painted in blue. They commenced their eerie dance around the death altar. Pairing off they dancing back-to-back with legs bent and sprayed wide, moving in unison with their arms giving the appearance, from any one vantage point, of their multi-armed Goddess.
Indra stroked his dripping cock watching the Hirja’s effeminate movements accentuated their lewd nakedness. Each of the transgendered beauties stirred their loins from flaccidity to full erection. As the pairs of hijra danced together back-to-back, they rubbed their bluish bubble-breasts and slowly stroked their hardening cocks.
There was something about the hijra’s that elicited the darkest desires of Indra’s sexual interests. He preferred the hijra to either males or females as he saw them as living mongrels of androgynous ambiguity; of pansexual contradiction; of flesh laid corrupt and of demonic inception. They were all beasts of perverted sex. And how the temple celebrated that hellish duality on every wall, every statue and every evil prayer.
“Muga Muga Dug. Muga Muga Duh. Kali Kali Tiaag. Kali Kali Mah.”
The maniac cries from around the dark manse echoed against the evil stone statues and phallic idols of psychosexual serpents. Every alcove and recess of the shrine was replete with fevered fornicating bodies, male, female and transgendered.
Indra knew that this arcane ritual would go on and on for many more hours in this place that was perpetually night – the realm of mischief, wickedness and devils. The white boy that had been brought many miles to be used explicitly for this purpose would be dead before it ended – his torn little body shattered by the endless copulations from the Guru’s sex-crazed disciples that all hated the light, loathed goodness and worshiped sexual violence and their revered Guru – who was the personification of the devil himself.
“Muga Muga Dug. Muga Muga Duh. Kali Kali Tiaag. Kali Kali Mah.”
Indra brought the new comer forward. He was dressed in a black funeral shroud, but its translucency did nothing to hide the naked form of the young resplendent male beneath.
“Mister Billy – this is the great temple of your beloved Swami. This is where the Serpent ruins supreme and we honor the name of the Serpent Goddess. You have nothing to fear. You are one of us now. One with the Guru. One with your brothers and sisters – to whom there is nothing taboo except the spilling of seed of life – which must only be done at the explicit command of your Guru.”
The nascent pyre.
Lewis felt blind, his eyes not yet accustomed to the dimness lit only by the scintillation of hundreds of phallic candles. The stench in the sepulchral temple was overwhelming. This was an awful place concatenated to his journey into wickedness. Putrid, oily, dank – the funky smells seemed to befit the votive occasion. He was a disciple of the devil and this was hell.
Naked forms moved in corrupted ecstasy all around him. He said nothing. He did nothing. He felt nothing. His sole purpose was to serve his Guru – the beautiful Guru seated upon his evil throne as he was serviced by two dark-skinned youngling. As they touched and caressed the Guru’s cock, Lewis felt a pang of jealousy – for he wanted nothing more than to feel the Guru’s cock deep in his bowel or thrust into his throat. It was what he was born to do.
His spiritual guide, the coffee-colored man called Indra, had dressed him in a dark cloth that was loosely wrapped around him but did little to hide his diffident nudity – but looking around the Temple, he could see clearly that nudity was nothing to be ashamed of as most of the disciples were not only naked, but their sexual arousal was obvious, some were already engaged in various sexual activities that teased him to a hardness that he had never experienced before.
“Mister Billy… you must be still… the ritual is about to begin…” Whispered Indra, who stood close to Lewis’s left shoulder.
Paean cries filled his ears in discord to the caprice that filled the chamber. He could see a young boy of Caucasian origin being brought forward before the Guru’s sepulcher. He was struggling wildly against the three naked disciples that held him across a darkly stained altar. Two of the naked disciples held him down as the third cut away the boy’s flimsy dhoti to reveal his pale nudity. This stirred Lewis. His eyes registered the boyish physique. He wanted to touch his flesh, to fondle its childish softness. He wanted to run his hand over the sharp bony points of his hips and into the recesses of his concave buttocks. Lewis’s cock throbbed and ached to be touched – but without the explicit permission of his Guru, Lewis stood obediently with his arms at his side and only watched with great expectancy.
“Mister Billy… they are preparing the sacrifice…” Seeing Lewis interest, his spiritual guide rested a hand upon his shoulder adding, “soon my friend… soon your cock will have its share… look, here come the hijra priestesses…”
“Hijra?” Asked Lewis.
“They are both brothers and sisters… see they have both breasts and penises… they are highly regarded in the temple… the Guru seeks their blessing before the offering to Kali… yes Mister Billy, they make the most exquisite lovers…”
Now Lewis could clearly see the slow possession of feminine figures entering the steamy temple. They were all painted in blue and as Lewis looked closer he could see their mixed genitalia.
To be continued …
If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email to firstname.lastname@example.org