Pristine Perversion Pt. 02

Continued from here

I stand up, pausing my ritual for her graciously. My hands do not touch hers as I take the plate of offerings from her. The rim of the plate is encircled by a serpentine jasmine garland. Nestled in the heart of this garland is a riot of colours — incandescent red oleanders, igneous palash and at the heart of the heart, a wide-open golden box containing sanguine vermilion.

"Oh pious one, I hope the deity accepts my worship." her voice barely escapes her veil as she speaks. "I awoke early in the morning, bathed ere the sun rose and rushed before even the breeze could sully my purity."

I place my hand paternally on her head.

"Princess, your devotion is pure and your heart true. The scriptures speak of two types of devotion, the baby monkey's where no matter how swift the mother jumps, the baby holds on steadfast of its own volition and the kitten's where the kitten surrenders to cat's will and trusts the mother to carry it safely."

I take my hand off her head.

"You princess have mastered both forms. What deity would refuse such innocent worship?"

My blessings touch her heart as she falls instantly at my feet. Her posture is perfect with two knees and two hands joined together touching the ground, head bowed low at my feet.

I go to the sanctum sanctorum, her plate in my hand. I feel her eyes bore through her veil and touch my bare back as she raises from her obeisance. But I merely register and do not react.

"What?", he mutters still dazed from sleep, "I do not understand."

I let my upper garment slip. His eyes which are more awake than his own self, lock arms with the caparisoned elephants that my nubile breasts are. There is nothing subtle about me. My hip is thrust out, my lower robe rides high up my thighs, my lips are parted like cut pomegranate and my hands play dangerously below my navel. My only sign of chastity, my mangal sutra was tied to my hip chain in a vulgar manner depriving it of any respect.

"Oh pious one, I have seen you and seen your eyes. I know what beast lurks behind them and want to offer my worship to it. I have rushed from the palace after the stars slept, the wind has played with my body lasciviously. Grant me my boon, let me be your slave."

He sat up and looked me quizzically.

"The king will have our heads if he sees us thus princess. You must go back." His lips curled in scorn as he taunted me mercilessly. I was fooled. He knew my secret all along. I had but to surrender now.

"Oh pious one, my devotion is pure and my heart true. The scriptures speak of two types of devotion, the baby monkey's where no matter how swift the mother jumps, the baby holds on steadfast of its own volition and the kitten's where the kitten surrenders to cat's will and trusts the mother to carry it safely. I shall master both to serve you."

Words can barely express as much as actions can. I fall to the ground, my knees spread wide apart, my breasts almost grazing the ground as I lower my face subserviently for him. I crawl thus my movement part feline and part serpentine.

As I drew close to him, he placed his left foot on my head. My eyes were fixed to the ground even as my heart leapt. I have been accepted. With a supreme effort, I controlled myself as I wait not reacting till he lets me.

In the sanctum sanctorum, I remove the dried up flowers from the idol. My hands gently push out the few stray twigs and petals as I pour water from head to toe. The forehead, the sharp nose, the chiselled breasts, the vanishing waist, the bent thighs, they all are the same stone to me as I cleanse the idol of yesterday's worship.

I then place the jasmine garland around the idol's shoulders. The oleanders are strewn across the feet and thighs. The palash crowns the head like a hooded serpent. Finally, I place the vermillion on the forehead and the parting at the top of the head.

Camphor burns with a heady aroma in that dark room. As I sway my hands making the flame dance, now revealing the face, now the breasts, now the waist, not eh feet, I can feel her being hypnotized even though she observes but from a distance. I take in her look of ecstasy as the deity is revealed from the darkness in glimpses of light. But I merely register it, my mind losing itself in the ecstasy of my sonorous chant.

"So princess you would rather lose your head than keep your virtue?" I know his question is rhetorical and keep still as his left foot slid to my face with his toe resting on my lips. His right foot prodded my hitherto untouched ass. I had hoped his hand would be the first to touch me, but how conceited I was.

"But you still have vestiges of chastity", his foot undid the knot of my garment as my ass is revealed in all its ripe glory. "For you kiss not even when you find what you seek."

"I was awaiting your command Master" I mumbled. My eyes notice his standing up even as my ass registers a painful hard spank.

"And you think commands are only spoken?"

This was even more painful even more delicious than I thought. For I was punished no matter what I did.

I hurried to his feet crawling and kissed and licked them clean, my hands tying themselves behind my back of their own accord.

"Rise up in worship till you find your deity."

I nodded my head as I slowly inched my way up his leg. The feet are gnarly, the leg itself pleasantly hairy, the knees bear a scar or two, perhaps from a fight ... and the thighs. They are soft and firm at the same time. I savoured every texture and taste as I tasted spring's sweat off his body, off Master's body.

His own hands were roaming idly over my body as I gradually climbed. I felt my hair yanked as my eyes met the saffron of his loincloth. My eyes roll upwards in ecstasy as he tugs at the roots of my hair painfully. My lips, however, have not lost sight of the prize as my tongue darts out and licks them lewdly. Like a cobra's head glowing with the jewel it carries, his cloth seemed aflame with virility.

He pressed my face down as my teeth involuntarily caught his loincloth. Even as I obeyed his unspoken command to remove the cloth, I received another spank as punishment for knowing him too well too soon. My eyes widened as I finally saw that deity that I sought to see. Oh! Shiva! It was beautiful! Dark as the night, curving like a scimitar, pink tongue sticking out from inside. This was Life, Time and Death itself[6].

"Keep your eyes down." he growls. I obey both the said and the unsaid. My eyes are bent low in humility as my lips, my blessed fortunate lips ensconce his staff. The aroma and taste turns me heady as I see no light except that which I am fed now. This is hypnosis, this is cessation of breath, this is trance, this is swinging between life and death, between the precipice of letting his staff escape my lips and the valley of my breath being suffocated by his power. I lose all sense of time, of life and self-losing myself in the ecstasy of my worship.

I step out of the sanctum sanctorum. Her bronze plate now has the smudged vermillion, a pot of holy water and burning camphor. As I draw closer to her, she pulls her veil down. Her eyes however still remain cast down. I once again place my hand on her forehead and bless her. Then, I streak the vermillion at the parting of her head, marking a red path of passion twixt the darkness of her tresses. I offer her the flame which she obsequiously presses to her eyes. Her hands automatically stretch to receive the holy water.

I pour the holy water into her outstretched palms.

She raises her palm to sip it in.

I writhe and twist on the floor gasping for breath as he pinches my nose shut. My body fights for air as my heart fights for nectar that oozes from him. A river trickles between my legs as I feel a great desire to be split in half. I feel his right-hand smudge the vermillion at the parting of my forehead as he defiles the last vestige of my honour. His left-hand sets my face afire with cruel slaps.

And then he lets go. My eyes light up with sluttish passion but still stay down. My hands reach to the ground as my neck arches and my mouth opens wide to receive.

As if by unspoken agreement

As if by unspoken agreement

she looks up at me as she drinks in the holy water

I looked up at him as I drank in his virile poison.

Her tongue darts out in an unholy manner as she swallows the basil leaf off her palm, her eyes never leaving mine.

My tongue draws in reverently as it all slides down my throat barely touching anything on the way [7], my eyes never leave his.

I smile at her, the perfect devotee.

"Now princess, I must return to my worship." I bend down to offer water to assuage fire [8].

She gazes at my effulgent face hungrily.

"Nobody will be up at the palace yet. Perhaps I can stay back and pray some more?"

He smiled at me, his perfect slave.

"Now princess, I must see your other worships." He loomed over me and dragged me by my hair to under his legs.

I gazed at his outstretched legs and hairy ass hungrily.

"Nobody will be up at the palace yet. Perhaps I can stay back and pray some more?"

References

[6] — A reference to Kali

[7] — The way water is supposed to be sipped in Hindu liturgy, with the liquid going straight to the heart via the throat.

[8] — An offering of water sanctified by chants is to be made to the sun at specified times of the day as part of a Brahmin's daily ritual.