DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, MC, Masturbation, Corruption, Scat, WS, Coercion, NS, Rape, Lolita, Magic, Blasphemy, Devil Worship, Demons, Occult, Satanic Rites, BDSM, Cosplay

CREATED: 12.12.2012 / UPDATED: 20.05.2022 / REVISITED: 18.07.2023


Beautiful but unfulfilled, Anagha Chandra, a famed female spiritual guru, is drawn to the Dance of the Amanojaku … she trades the peace and humility of her Sadhvi philosophy for the dark lust of tantric sex … she uses the ancestral evil of an ancient lingam carved from the thigh bone of a child sacrifice … to corrupts her own shishyas (pupils) and to indulge herself in the tenebrous delights of Kurukulla, the goddess of sex.

Amanojaku — The Bone


Anagha Chandra had for half a century dedicated herself to the peace and humility of her Hindu devas — Ganasha, Shiva, Krishna. Her name, Anagha, which meant ‘without sin’ had been, be so apt. She saw her body as her own holy pura (temple); and to many, her physical beauty and perfection were seen as a divine gift, for she appeared only half her actual age.

A devout Hindu, she was rarely seen in public, as she preferred her jungle-beach retreat, where she taught a select group of female shishyas (pupils), the accomplishment of spiritual meditation, through long hours of Bhakti Yoga. In the few times she was seen outside her retreat, she was known for her dread-locked hair, simple tastes, and conservative dress in plain white saris.

She would often be seen praying using one of the oldest and most powerful of Sanskrit mantras; chanting the Gayatri, which she believed would allow all people to carry on with their lives, do the work ordained for them and life would be full of happiness.

“Om Bhur Bhuva Svah; Tat Savitur Varenyam; Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi; Dhiyo Yo Naha Prachodayat.” (On the absolute reality and its planes, on that finest spiritual light, we meditate, as the remover of obstacles, that it may inspire and enlighten us).

Her shishyas would chant from one of the more difficult yoga positions; she taught them that Bhakti Yoga would release their suppressed emotions and bring the purification of their inner self; it focused their minds on service to the Lord; that in fact, the goal of Bhakthi was to replace fear by love … in which love and devotion were highlighted.

Besides her shishyas, Anagha was also passionate about her own studies. She had been researching ancient Sanskrit, Pali, and Prakrit scriptures for what she believed was the holiness of their yoga techniques … she had also studied the ways of the Sadhus or Sadhvi (one who has renounced the world completely) and their practice of Naga Sadhus, a form of naked yoga that embraced celibacy.

Other gurus had from time to time, shared their secrets with her. On one such occasion, she received a rather large anonymous package. It contained various sacred objects of unknown origin. The first was a very old pustaka (manuscript) that was not covered with the usual Buddhist and Hindu deities such as Brahma, Manjushree, Sarswati, Prajnaparamitta, Avalokiteswar, Vasundhara associated with wisdom; the book seemed to pre-date a lot of the elaborate Indo-Aryan and Indo-Iranian material she had been used to studying.

In the package, there was an ancient-looking Kalpana (half skull), a cup used for containing blood in tantric rituals. It was said to be held by Kali Ma and other manifestations of Shiva Sakti, by Mahakala and other guardian deities and their Dankinis. There was a small double Damaru (drum) with a leather string tied over the narrow middle part of it, with human bone fragments that were indented to make a rattling sound on the drum’s membranes, when swung. Lastly, there was a double-ended Lingam (phallus) that seemed to be carved from a small human thighbone. The Sanskrit inscriptions carved along its length, told of how the bone was taken from a child sacrifice offered to Kali Ma and contained the spirit of a demon — shocked Anagha dropped the obscene object immediately.

Anagha was not sure where it had come from, but she was enthralled by the workmanship of the unusual jacket of the pustaka, it felt warm and seemed to almost vibrate in her hands. It had a small lock that would not yield as it should. Anagha thought it best that she brought back all these strange things to her humble accommodation out of sight of her shishyas until she truly understood their meaning.

Anagha’s retreat consisted of a small number of native huts, where her shishyas could find the peace of solitude to meditate and contemplate far from the world of distractions; away from the intoxication of the hustle and bustle; hidden from the spiritual hierarchy that made women inferior to men; and away from, “Corrupting influences.”

On one side the noises of the jungle filled the evening air, whilst the distant sound of the surf from the beach echoed their isolation. Inside her hut, Anagha’s accommodation was very basic. The earthy tones and absence of technology looked very quaint. There was a low cot on one side of the square room and crude bathing facilities on the other. A large dressing mirror reflected the candlelight setting that made it look quite picturesque in its rawness. The door was covered with a simple curtain that could be drawn open or closed without any actual door.

Once inside, she laid the cumbersome package on the floor, intending to store it safely … when suddenly she felt a strong compulsion to strip naked. Yes … she had been contemplating the Naga Sadhus [naked ritual] style … but why did she feel a need to do this now?

She did not understand her own actions. But she did it without a second thought. In the dressing mirror, she noticed herself, her glow … her nipples chiseled to erect points. Anagha found herself drawn to the unusual Pustaka (book) that had previously given her an unexpected sensation in her figure tips. She ran her hand across its cover and indeed there was a reaction … a prickly electric feeling that made the hairs of her raven-black dreadlocks seem to want to stand on end … there was something slightly erotic in its stimulation that seemed to make sweat.

Again without realizing she had done it, she found that she had taken the Pustaka (book), Kalpana (half skull/cup), Damaru (drum), and Lingam (phallus) and had arranged them on the floor around her. She had lit a number of small incense burners to make an offering to whatever it was that indeed had a presence in these strange objects that now surrounded her. The pungent smell did nothing but heighten her sexual feelings. She looked at her reflection in the dressing mirror as she assumed the easy Sukhasana (sitting) pose with her hands in Namaste (praying) position. Her brown skin glowed in the candlelight.

She drew the book onto her lap, to better see the content under the low iridescent candlelight. The Pustaka (book) felt heavy against her bare legs with the spine resting directly against her mons — it felt almost alive with the sensation of skin against the skin — Anagha gasped and felt uncomfortable dampness between her legs, her vagina felt wet and highly aroused, as her clitoris began to emerge from within its hood.

Instead of contemplating her usual Hindu devas (gods) – Ganasha, Shiva, Krishna, her meditating mind suddenly filled with perverted images of the Red Kurukulla … the goddess of witchcraft and enchantment … Anagha was, of course, familiar with the sex goddess, but was surprised with herself in this contemplation … she could clearly envision Kurukulla as the voluptuous and alluring sixteen-year-old. Her beautiful face and body were red in color, because of her magical function of enchantment and magnetism.

She was naked adorned with ornaments of human bone and a necklace of fifty freshly severed human heads dripping blood. She danced with four arms, upon a naked male human corpse, his erect lingam (phallus) pointed upwards towards her hot-wet yoni (vagina). Despite her initial reaction of disbelief for allowing herself to be influenced by these obviously evil tools, she could not control the intense itch between her thighs that had become saturated in vaginal fluids. Unabated thoughts of the dark lusts of tantric ritual sex stirred within her as the clasp of the Pustaka (book) popped open.

There was a flash of bright light that made Anagha clamp her eyes shut. Gingerly she opened them to realize that she was no longer sitting on the rugged floor, but found herself in a moonlight temple surrounded by phallic effigies. It felt raw, animalistic, tribal, and feral — still sitting in her Sukhansana (sitting), she no longer thought of Sadhu’s philosophy of renouncing the world completely — she was filled with shakti (sexual energy). She was there to worship a new goddess — the goddess of sexual perversity.

It all seemed to have a dreamlike quality, how she got there was unclear, as it usually was in the world of dreams, but what was clear was that she was not alone anymore — she found herself circled by six other naked yogis — the Naga Sadhus … female shishyas she thought. As they all began kneeling up, in Trishnasana (kneeling) pose, Anagha cast her eyes across their waifish bodies, from the waist up, she admired the stress of the body position that displayed their extremely stringy muscle-form and boniness, their small fist-sized breasts and erect nipples seemed to glow with perspiration in the moonlight; from the waist down, she could see now that they were not female but something else … she was intrigued at their rather large but flaccid male organs hanging obscenely between their parted thighs.

Anagha was intrigued with her own body’s reaction, feeling strange new urges as she took the initiative to reach out and caress their genitals, bringing them to immediate hardness. They loudly chanted, as she masturbated them one by one, their lips formed the words, “Andhakaramaya Mahadevi,” (Dark Goddess) as they encouraged her to perform the Yoganidrasana pose chanting to her to lick herself for her own venereal pleasure — each of the hermaphrodites danced and masturbating in a circle around Anagha as she plunged her tongue in and out of her own yoni as her yogis moaned enthusiastically at her discovery of self-cunnilingus, moaning, “Dance with us and you will receive the gift of your darkest desires.”

As the fog of dreams quickly cleared, Anagha found herself once again inside her modest accommodation. The lucid experience had felt so real … so exciting. She was dripping with perspiration from the ordeal. Her horniness focused her mind on the Pustaka (book) that still lay across her lap … she felt the prick of trepidation for its content as much as she longed for it. She opened the page to the image of the sex goddess Kurukulla, naked in her full glory, only in the illustration the Kurukulla squatting over the stiff lingam of a corpse, directing it into her pinkish vagina. Her face spat evil and lust. Even in death, she was irresistible, as the animated corpse’s lingam seeded her womb from beyond the grave.

Anagha’s fingers penetrated herself … finger fucking herself faster and faster … the long abstinence amplified her self-pleasuring as her thoughts turned to experiencing the dark lust of tantric sex and caught in the flames of dark passion infused by the Dance of the Amanojaku, to open up to the tenebrous delights of blood sacrifices to Kurukulla, her two legs are in vajrasana (arched back) position; her body adorned with nagas (serpent); evil phallic serpents wrapped around her thighs in order to penetrate her yoni … she felt like a wild-woman, god-intoxicated, searching for her divine lovers …

She urinated into the Kalpana (half skull/cup) filling it with acrid piss and drank from it as she watched herself in the mirror. When it was emptied she did it again, this time pouring the hot salty content over her breasts and vagina. Taking the cock-shaped bone, she caressed it like a lover and then took it into her mouth … sucking its bulbous end like a cock-whore. She rubbed its spit-wet length against her pudendum, then brought it back to her mouth to lick its length tasting herself upon it. She called out to the demon’s spirit embedded inside the obscene lingam offering sacrifice to Kurukulla, then plunged one end of cock-shaped bone into her dripping wet cunt.

“Arrraghhhhhhh,” Anagha moaned lewdly, pushing it in as far as she could.

She twisted its arced shape so that it stood obscenely out of her body as she stood up and admired her perversity in the mirror. She looked like one of the hermaphrodite demons in her dream … she began to masturbate against the bone cock, dancing vulgarly to the drumming of the Damaru (drum) … and remembering the words of the demons as she made her dark wish.



The morning light was softened by the huge canopy of trees that loomed above the village of small huts. The insect sounds of the jungle never seemed to cease. At breakfast, the young shishya gathered for a simple meal. It was the same simple food every day, gathered from the surrounding area, free from the contaminated toxins of the cities.

Jamini, a thirteen-year-old shishya, was new to the village. She sat silently eating her breakfast of nuts, fruits, and berries. Being around the other young girls did stir some strong new feelings of Sapphic attraction; in particular, she had taken an instant liking to another young girl with rich coffee-colored skin. She appeared to be a little younger than her, about eleven-year-old, and of mixed blood. Jamini admired her smooth brown skin was flawless and found her cat-like almond eyes to be magnetic. This morning, she could not but notice that her secret desire’s eyes also lingered over her own delicate A-cups, thinly veiled by the material of her uniform meditation clothes.

“Jamini … my name is Jamini,” she said timidly with a wide white smile.

Her eyes sparkled at the blushing of her fellow student.

“I’m so sorry. I’m Shanthi,” replied Shanthi, trying their best to conceal her embarrassment of being caught staring at Jamini’s breasts.

“Come Shanthi, join me for breakfast. You are very beautiful.”

“Thank you … and so are you,” she nervously replied.

Much to Jamini’s delight, the girl blushed even more.

“Did you say that your name was Jamini? My apologies for being so distracted this morning. Your name is familiar. I know, we have both been chosen as the shishyas to serve the Guru at the snake temple tonight.”

Shanthi took a seat and their bare legs momentarily touched ever so slightly underneath the breakfast table. Jamini felt small fireworks erupting between her thighs. The feeling was delicious.

“Jamini? Are you all right?”

“Yes …” she said almost under her breath, as she rested her calf against that of her new friend.

Neither moved their legs away. Emboldened, slightly, Jamini rubbed her bare leg against Shanthi, who smiled and accepted Jamini’s subtle advance.

“I was just thinking, what an honor it is to be chosen by the guru.”

“Yes it is … but I am a little nervous about it, as they say, that the guru practices her Naga Sadhus at the snake temple?”

“Whatever is Naga Sadhus?”

“Naga Sadhus … well it’s some kind of naked yoga. It is performed ritualistically as part of the awakening … I have never done anything like that. It’s kind of scary … I mean being selected by the guru … I don’t want to do anything wrong … and to be seen naked?”

“I am sure the guru knows what is the best for her shishyas. I can’t believe her age. They say the Guru is fifty years old. She looks so beautiful … so attractive … somehow her yoga must be very powerful to keep her looking so youthful … maybe it is the Naga Sadhus?”

Jamini pushed her bare foot between Shanthi’s thighs, resting it upon the edge of her chair. Shanthi looked around to see if any of the elders were observing. No one was paying any attention to them. She reached beneath the table and guided her friend’s foot between her opening thighs, until her long toes were against her crutch, at the same time she pushed her own foot against Jamini’s crutch.

The two girls looked at each other like co-conspirators. Jamini ground her big toe against Shanthi, who shifted her position to sit forward, maximizing Jamini’s penetration against the thin fabric of their uniforms.

“I am glad we have both been chosen to serve her together … I would very much like to see you naked Jamini.”

“Let’s not wait until tonight Shanthi … come with me to toilets. Nobody will miss us for a while.”

They both smiled nervously at each other and stood up. They walked separately to avoid attention and met at the crude toilet block at the edge of the forest and disappeared inside. The damp jungle permeated the squatting-style toilets that were a perfumed combination of wild jasmine and stale urine. Jamini pulled Shanthi into the last cubical and closed the door.

Jamini drew her new friend closer so that their bodies touched from head to toe. She embraced her and kissed her open mouth. They twisted their eager tongues together tasting the passion in each other’s mouths. Shanthi moaned into her secret lover’s mouth as she felt her fingers curl around her petite buttocks and part them ever so slightly. Shanthi’s hands roamed across Jamini’s body for the first time as they pressed their clothed breasts together.

Breaking their passionate kiss, Jamini’s heart pumped loudly in her own ears as she pulled her clothing from her sweaty body. Shanthi smiled widely as her eyes wandered from her almost flat chest, down across her concave stomach, and down to her bony mons. Shanthi lent forward and took Jamini’s hard little nipples into her warm wet mouth. Jamini gasped and placed her hands on Shanthi’s shoulders urging her to suck harder.

Shanthi stripped out of clothing and the pair rubbed their damp bodies against one another as they continued to kiss. Shanthi’s hand groped at Jamini’s mons, fingering her juice slit as Jamini did the same in return.


The sun dropped rapidly below the tree line, and the day turned quickly tonight.

The sounds of the forest amplified in the darkness. Jamini and Shanthi were joined by a third young girl twelve years old, called Paavai. They followed the elders’ instructions and made their way to the remote snake temple. The jungle walk was hot and they were all relieved to reach their destination. They had never been to the snake temple before, but the path was lighted with small burners that snaked their way up the hillside. Two huge stone cobra snakes marked the entrance to the dark temple. They stood upright upon their tails, with the fierce hoods open and forked tongues extended.

Inside, there were none of the usual statues dedicated to the Gods — Ganasha, Shiva, or Krishna. In their place, at the center of the stony temple interior was a huge statue of the sex goddess Kurukulla. Carved in her naked form, Kurukulla was beautiful and alluring. She was depicted with two phallic nagas that gave a more explicit sexual meaning to the snake temple’s purpose. There was a strong smell of incense, hints of the pure essence of lotus, rose, jasmine, night-queen, lavender, saffron, sandalwood, and myrrh; seemed to be fresh ginger root mixed with something more base — more acrid, like the odor of human waste mixed with fresh blood — the stronger more pungent odors that would attract the Voudon’s Loa (demons). The girl’s audibly gasped at the site of the interior walls that were lavishly decorated in a Kamasutra of fornicating forms … some human, some serpent, and some in between.

They all felt their libidos rise instantly at the eroticism that covered every surface. The sound of the persistent rhythmical throbbing of the Mridangam (drum) made them feel like gyrating to its hypnotic beat.

“This is an evil place,” said Shanthi nervously.

“I’m afraid, Jamini,” said Paavai.

“We are the chosen ones. Our spiritual guru has selected us as her shishya — we should not be afraid of Voudon’s Loa — we should be honored to her serve her in any way we can. She is the embodiment of Kurukulla and ‘she who is the cause knowledge’.”

They held hands to comfort each other.

“That’s right my shishyas. You should be honored. Kneel before your guru.”

It was Anagha their esteemed guru. The three girls all immediately knelt in their white ritual gowns. Jamini silently watched the beautiful woman, as she gracefully walked across the temple floor. Her dread-locked hair and heavy serpent necklace did nothing to obscure the view of her absolutely stunning figure. Jamini’s eyes ran across her dark firm curved breasts, flat muscular stomach, and pouting vagina. The very sight of her made Jamini want to slip a finger inside herself.

“No doubt, you have all noticed the absence of my ritual gown. Please, shishya, don’t be alarmed and tonight you will begin some new practices, I would ask you all to remove yours as well. Do not be afraid of the evil spirits that occupy this place — tonight, we are here to honor them — they will do as your guru commands.”

The girls looked at each other, hesitating momentarily and unsure if they had heard or understood the instruction right. Jamini was the first and the other two girls followed her lead as they timidly removed their gowns. Now they all knelt completely naked before their guru.

Jamini felt her guru’s eyes feasted upon their youthfulness and untouched essence. Inspecting each of them in turn, Jamini felt a little subconscious of the waifish features and the strong aromas and incense made her feel slightly light head, her nipples became instantly hard and the walls of her vagina slippery. The other girls, Shanti and Paavai looked very unsure.

“Assume the Suptabhadrasana (sleeping butterfly),” ordered the guru, and the three girls lay on their backs, bringing their legs together, so that their toes touched just in front of their face, with the hands clasped together above their feet … a move calculated to completely expose their vaginas to the deviant guru, who stroked her own breasts as she watched the young girls perform this obscene position for her.

“Very good. Shanthi and Paavai I want you both to remain in this position until I release you — pray to the Kukukulla, the Naga Goddess and ask her for your awakening — Jamini, I want you to come forward towards me and assume the Sethubandasana (bridge).”

Jamini moved much closer to the guru who sat in her kneel-up position. She was so close that she could even see the guru’s body glisten in the low light, as it had been smeared in exotic oils. With the weight on her shoulders and feet, she made the bridge by raising her hind section off the floor, griping her heels from beneath her arched back with her legs as wide apart as she could do it … from this position the guru would be able to smell Jamini’s arousal. Her breathing was fast and erratic.

“You must control your breathing camiyati (one who is to be possessed) in preparation for the spirit dance,” said the guru to Jamini.

She was now kneeling directly in front of the girl. The guru’s hand brushed lightly up and down over the girl’s exposed sex, her fingers teasing the girl’s clitoris bringing her to a new level of excitement. Jamini could feel the guru pushing her index finger inside her vagina and having felt the wetness brought the sticky finger to her mouth — she could just see the guru tasted her and nodded with approval. It seemed that she had been selected.

“Shishyas assume the Jalapadasana (frog king, kneeling stance),” said the guru.

The girls all followed her instructions, waiting in the incredible sexual heat of the snake temple.

“There are three types of tantra. White. Gray. And … Black. In White Tantra, one never reaches orgasm nor ejaculates in order to awaken consciousness. Gray Tantra elongates the sexual act and sometimes concludes with orgasm or ejaculation but without any longing towards awakening consciousness.”

The guru beckoned Jamini to her side, indicating that she should lie on her back, her legs facing the other girls. The guru straddled her so that her vagina was inches above Jamini’s face.

“I will teach you, my camiyati (one who is to be possessed), the Black Tantra. It always concludes with an orgasm in order to awaken the new consciousness. It is said that White Tantra awakens consciousness to the absence of desire, while Black Tantra awakens consciousness into desire. You will learn to use the sexual energy of desire — the lust of full enlightenment, rather than simply enjoy its pleasure.”

The guru’s juices dripped from between her legs. Jamini’s tongue licked the salty fluid from her lips as the guru’s hands groped at both her nipples and vagina.

“… Yes Jamini … you are an excellent camiyati. Your arousal pleases the serpent demons. And you will be the first to bring your guru to orgasm tonight with your mouth and tongue. Observe shishyas … soon it will be your turn.”



Anagha gasped at her excitement as she feverishly rubbed herself back and forth across the young girl’s upturned face. She was a surprisingly eager student and her tongue felt exquisite as it tunneled into Anagha’s soaking cunt, lapping upwards from her urethral opening towards her clitoral hood.

“Fuck why didn’t I do this sooner. For the dark gods … blessed are those who sin.” She thought to herself.

The adrenaline of the moment brought her closer to the precipice of orgasm … but she wanted more before she allowed herself to succumb to her first whole-body orgasm. It would be nothing short of an all-night-orgy in which she would partake in every perverted vice she could extract from her young shishya and then some more. Tonight and every night would be dedicated to the worship of her evil nagas … her dream granted by the Dance of the Amanojaku.

Anagha, arched her highly flexible body forward, parting Jamini’s legs she drove her long tongue along the inside of the girl’s labia, tasting the sweetness of her purity, then pushing the flat of her pierced tongue directly against the girl’s sensitive clitoris. Jamini bucked wildly beneath her, instantly reaching the peak of a power orgasm, over and over as her moans were stifled beneath Anagha’s quivering hole … the vibrations of which again brought Anagha to the orgasmic edge.

“Shanthi … Paavai … dance for your goddess, Kukukulla,” gasped Anagha.

The uneasiness in the two young girls had not completely subsided, but Anagha knew that the spell of her lust would overtake any fear and replaced it with an unquenchable desire to serve her. Anagha’s black magic was already as strong, if not stronger than her white magic. Like positive to negative. The switch of the poles. The shadow cast inside Anagha was long and dark. Its umbra fell over the young and impressionable minds of her unquestioning shishya — they would do anything their guru asked — no matter how unexplainable, how unexpected, or how perverse. Anagha laughed to herself as she felt their resistance to her fall away to nothing … their subjugation was complete.

The source of the sound of the rhythmical throbbing of the Mridangam came from a slightly raised platform, veiled from view to the side of the looming statue of the seductress, Kukukulla. As the curtain drew back, it revealed three young brown-skinned musicians, bear to the waist, seated playing their exotic instruments.

Anagha encouraged Jamini to dance with the other shishyas and then beckoned the musicians to take part in the lusty dance of the naked young girls. The androgynous-looking musicians with long hair and finely chiseled faces; two with their small Mridangam drums strapped around their necks, the third with a long phallic-shaped punji (flute). As they joined the three naked girls, all began their licentious dance steps, with undulating and sensual thrusts of their hips in time to the beating of the horny drums.

Anagha had arranged for them to be dressed only in translucent dhoti pants. Their slight petite figures, hairless bodies, and narrow hips looked out of proportion compared with their bulging erections which were all clearly visible through the tented fabric of their dhotis. She had selected just three young lingams for this, the first of many rituals … soon she would have rituals where dozens of young effeminate boys would entertain her … not only with sexual intercourse with her and her young shishyas but also with each other. She loved their sexual ambiguity … like little girls with big cocks. She would make sure her spell would keep them erect for days without release. Soon the sacred juice of the nagas would flow inside her vagina, in her mouth, and inside her anus.

“Let the dance of possession begin … oh great blessed effigy of goddess Kurukulla … let your Voudon’s Loa (demons) enter my shishyas … spirits of Kurukulla, Kali Ma, Vajrayogini, Bhagavani come forth … goddess of demons appease my wanton thirst!”

The waifish young girls and boys danced as if intoxicated, they swayed to and fro around each other to the throbbing tribal rhythm that seemed to have a life of its own. Their pulsating movements became increasingly vigorous, vulgar, and more sexually explicit. The space between them became closer and closer until finally they directly rubbed against one another … boy against girl, girl against boy, girl against girl, and boy against boy. The dance seemed to intensify their carnal desires, unleashing them as their sexual organs ground against one other, be it separated only by the gossamer-thin dhotis.

Two of the young musicians positioned a low circular wicker basket in the center of their dance. The Sacred Nagas. Anagha gave them her approval as they reached inside the basket to retrieve three black rope-like snakes, draping them over the girls as they fuck-danced. The glistering reptiles curled around their forearms, as the girls kissed and licked at their scaly flesh and guided their hissing tongues towards their nipples. They positioned the snakes’ tails over the entry to their dripping cunts … pushing them between their open labia and rubbing their clits against their animal texture.

Anagha watched as her evil sex magic unfold … it was as she had envisioned … the sublime perversity of the tantric sacrifice … innocence of her most virginal shishyas consumed as if their very flesh had been taken over by the Voudon’s Loa themselves …

“Om Kurukulle Hrih Svaha!” cried Anagha.

Anagha pushed the doubled-ended bone phallus into her vagina. It seemed to slither and mold itself as it reached upwards against her cervix … whilst the exposed phallic end also seemed to form part of Anagha’s body, obscenely sticking out from her hip like an enormous fleshy cock. As she held it in her hand, it felt as if it were her own flesh.

”The black sex magic begins.”

She could feel what it felt. No longer the texture of bone, Anagha rubbed the fleshy foreskin back and forth across its engorged head. Anagha shuddered with a new pleasure she had never known before.

“I am Kurukulla. I am the cock goddess. I am the Vajrayogini! Hail Vajrayogini!”

Her pornographic temple seemed to instantly boil over as the young boys discarded their musical instruments and tore at their thin dhotis, exposing the hard throbbing cocks. They masturbated themselves, as the demons inside them possessed their flesh. The girls looked like hungry savage whores, eager to be fucked in every orifice. Anagha snarled and held her hand aloft to stop them. They would each have to wait their turn.

Jamini would be the first. She eagerly knelt before Anagha and took the head of her snake-like cock into her delicate mouth, sucking and licking at it ravenously, demented in senseless lust, as her small hands feverishly rubbed the length of Anagha’s cock shaft. But this was no longer Jamini, Shanthi, and Paavai. They were no longer themselves and neither were the three young musicians. Anagha had called forth the serpent demons and she could see the sexual madness behind their eyes … her desire for sex with demons … for perversity with no limits had come to fruition. Amanojaku. They would fuck like animals until she was completely sate.

“Om Kurukulle Hrih Svaha!” screamed Anagha, “Dance and drench each other in Kurukulla’s sacred wine… Hail Kukukulla, oh goddess of sex demons… ”

Her macabre spell deepened as the boys began to urinate over themselves, soaking each other and over the girls. Open mouths gulped like dying fish at the salty piss spray as it drenched them all. The girls in turn pulled their piss lips open to force the urine streams higher to compete with the boys, splashing their uneven yellow gushes of acrid liquid over one another. As their piss streams fizzled dry, they continued to dance and rub the naked piss-wetness against one another, licking at the salty rain that covered them.

Her puppetry over the sex demons forced them to do her will. She was the naga (serpent) demon and the girl that was once Jamini, climbed onto her hips, so that Anagha’s new cock thrust deep into her vagina, piercing her virginity … giving her blood to Anagha … giving it to Kurukulla…


Anagha fucked Jamini harder and harder as she revealed the sexual magnetism of her seductive goddess. She began to ejaculate inside the possessed girl, who also was in the throws of her own elongated orgasm … demon orgasms were said to be a hundred times more powerful than human ones… additive and consuming … Anagha gasped at her new level of depravity.

Still gasping from the intensity of her tantric orgasm, her bone penis remained rampant. Its length was covered in a mixture of Jamini’s juices, blood, and her pinkish semen. She beckoned her musicians to join her, as the young boys surrounded their goddess, taking one in her mouth, one in her anus, while the third knelt over her cock… guiding her into his oily boy cunt. The girls quickly gathered around, kissing the boys’ mouths, and rubbing the base of their organs as the three fucked their evil yogini (female teacher).

At last, Anagha allowed herself to orgasm. The floodgates of demonic orgasm opened and gushed from her every hole — a tidal wave of perverse pleasure — like nothing she had ever experienced before, engulfed her. The floor beneath her seemed to come alive with heat, cracking the surface with hundreds of small holes, that in term began to boil over with crawling things, slimy, scaly, wriggling serpent-like things.

The copulating bodies of the shishyas and the musicians began to fuse with the Sacred Nagas as they crawled and wrapped themselves around their fornicators. Anagha reached out to hold something, anything as her back arched and she screamed aloft … her evil seed fountained from her convulsing bone cock.

“I am Kurukulla. I am the cock goddess. I am the Vajrayogini! Hail Vajrayogini!”

The wave began to take her down as if she was drowning in a sandy sea of serpents and lust. She could no longer keep her eyes open and as the pleasure continued to flow throughout her body, she was no longer aware of her surroundings … she no longer cared for anything else but the brutish pleasure that filled her so completely.

“Voudon’s Loa. I am Kurukulla. I am the Vajrayogini! Hail Vajrayogini!”

The world could have ended for all she cared. The pleasure finally began to recede like a tide turning. As consciousness returned Anagha found herself lying upon a bed of nakedness, across the unmoving bodies of her young copulators … the bone phallus was no longer flesh as she pulled it from her the soreness of her vagina. The young ones stirred beneath her. Not dead, just comatose.

She remembered everything … real to unreal … from innocence to corruption … from hunger to sate … her cunt throbbed with more wantonness … the memory of the demonic orgasm shaping her desire for more … much, much more … she immediately began to plot her next conquest … a banquet of perversion without end!




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 xpanther2019@protonmail.com