The Thirst - Part II

I watch him as I brew tea. He sits quietly on the swing on our porch. His palms rest on his thighs, eyes staring forward at nothing in particular, back straight. He looks like a Zen master practicing zazen on a swing.

This is his morning ritual. I had asked him about it once. He told me gently, "Think of it as the equivalent of your prayer. I just sit in awareness that I am alive on a small porch in an ordinary home built in an equally ordinary city in one of many states in a country that is one of many on this one planet revolving around one of the billion stars of an ordinary galaxy that is contained in an universe made up of billions of them. It is a truly humbling experience, and destroys any hubris that I might have about the grandiosity of my humanity or my special place in this universe"

"Doesn't it make you feel lonely or depressed Swami,  thinking  that there is no one out there who cares about what happens to humanity or our planet? " I had asked

He had smiled and said "On the contrary, Daasi, it gives my life extraordinary purpose and meaning. It tells me that every action I take will have consequences and my actions could make the difference in somebody's life. It educates me on the power of one like nothing else"

When I hear people say that atheists are amoral or immoral, I think of my Swami and know that they are wrong. He is the kindest, most generous, most moral person I know, and now I am racked with guilt.

I feel like I have cheated on him. There is a storm brewing in my head as the water comes to a boil in the kettle. I add the tea leaves, grate some ginger, add a small amount of my home made tea masala consisting of ground cardamom, cinnamon sticks, cloves and black pepper corns and stir it into the boiling water. I top it off with a little milk and sugar and tea is ready.

I strain it, pour it into two bone china cups, place them on a tray with some biscuits and walk out to the porch to join my Swami. I stand silently waiting for him. His eyes fall on my feet. He looks at the silver toe rings on the second toes of both my feet. They are another outward indication that I belong to him. The most important indication though is hidden from everybody. His name is etched on my heart.

"You have such beautiful feet" He says and sighs. I silently offer him his tea. He takes it with his left hand and moves to his left making room for me on the swing. "Sit", he says simply. I set the tray down on a nearby coffee table and take a seat next to him with my cup of tea. He sips his tea and closes his eyes as he enjoys the complex flavor and rich aroma of a hot cup of Indian tea or Chai as we call it.

"Swami..." I say softly. He reaches out and places my left palm over his right and locks fingers with me.  His touch is as comforting as the warm tea passing thru my lips.

"It's just a dream, Daasi", he says. "Don't try to judge the morality of a dream sequence" I stare at him speechless. "Swami... how did you...."
He just smiles.
I know it sounds silly, but I always feel that we are somehow deeply connected and sense each others thoughts. I truly feel he is my soul mate.

"It's not that I had the dream, Swami", I say, my voice filled with shame, "I....I... I", my voice shakes, "I had an orgasm, while dreaming about being raped by three men and none of them was you". My face is flushed with embarrassment.

He takes another sip of tea and looks at me and shrugs "So?....". He takes another sip from his tea and says "It is just a physical reaction to intense mental stimulation. BTW you are not unique you know. I remember seeing a study done in some journal that said that as many as 50% of women have rape fantasies and this kind of fantasy is preferred by almost 20% of women"

I just let those statistics sink in. "Is he just lying to make me feel better?", I think, then chide myself for doubting him.

"Maybe the rape dream was a way for your to pretend that someone else was forcing you to indulge in some repressed desire" He smiles his naughty intoxicating smile and winks at me.

"That is what scares me, Swami" I whisper, with downcast eyes.

He uses his right hand to caress my hair. "Do you want to tell me about your dream?"
"Swami...I.. "
"I want to hear everything... not just the highlights"
So I tell him. All the vivid details, all the domination and humiliation, all the things the men made me do, everything. Several times during the recollection, I stop, deeply conflicted and embarrassed and he strokes my arm gently, smile and encourages me to go on.

It takes me around 45 minutes to recount the whole story. When I finish, I look at him dreading that I may have lost my place in his heart. He senses my despair, so quietly motions with his eyes and I gasp when I follow his gaze. He is sporting a nice hard on.

He again gestures with his eyes towards my groin. I almost say no, but then remind myself who I am and who he is and just nod, thoroughly stripped of any pretense of false modesty.
"Show me" he says simply, giving me his right hand. I take it and gently lead it to my pussy. He feels it and smiles when he feels the wetness. My pussy is wet from recalling my dream.

Then like a Zen master explaining a koan to a student, my Swami dissects my dream for me. "Silly Daasi, you were not raped by three men. Let me start with the giant. He represents strength and domination. You have a deep desire to submit completely. Dominance overwhelms you. You want to feel completely powerless against it. Any attempt not to submit on your part is crushed by the giant's overwhelming power. You are intimidated by dominance and yield to it. Since the giant towered over the other men, this is something you look for in any man as the most important quality that you crave for. If a man is a dominating alpha male your sub conscious mind is telling you that you are in complete awe of that quality in him. You want to serve this trait the most. He uses you. You get used by him."

I stare at him in utter awe. "Swami... you are the smartest person I have met..." "What about the other men Swami?" I ask, my curiosity is now consuming me.

He smiles. "Make me another cup of tea..."
I remember there is some tea left from my first brew and so I rush in to get it. As I am going into the house, he says "from scratch... Daasi.. make me a fresh brew"

Oh, this exquisite torture of seeing the prize but not being able to snatch it. I sigh and do his bidding.
I return in 15 mins. My mind is seriously fucked by this time. I am delirious with anticipation. I want to sit by the Zen master and have the next epiphany.

"Where is your cup?" he asks. I almost cry. "I can't drink tea alone" Even when he is cruel, he is kind. Luckily, I have brewed more than enough tea, so I return with my cup.

We drink in silence. I am going crazy. He takes his time. When we are finished, he gives me the cup and asks me to take everything back into the home.

Thirty minutes have passed since he has stopped explaining my dream to me and I am now a shivering bundle of anticipation.

"Please... Swami...." I beg him. "What do the other two men represent?"

"The bald hairy guy, he represents humiliation for you. His hair represents embarrassment. He is hairy because you dislike the embarrassment you fear from humiliation like you dislike too much body hair, but you are also strangely drawn to it. That is why even though being embarrassed is like depriving you of life giving breath, you begged him to face fuck you and pinch your nose more, because deep down inside you crave embarrassment and humiliation. Your dream made me realize this at a level I had not grasped before"

"Why is he bald, Swami?" I asked completely engrossed in his explanation
"Because, your subconscious mind is trying to tell you that you need to completely get rid of this fear of embarrassment in your mind, if you want to become a true daasi"

He is so right, I think. I have always been afraid of being embarrassed.

"Swami... what about the drunk guy with blood shot eyes?"
"That one is interesting. I am not completely sure, but I think he represents pain for you. I find it interesting that he was uncircumcised in your dream. You sub conscious mind seems to be telling you that there is a hidden facet to pain that needs to be pried open. Just like the foreskin covers the glans and keeps it hidden, this facet of pain is hidden unless you explore it.
"What facet Swami....?"
"Pain can also be pleasure Daasi". That is the hidden nature of pain. Your sub conscious mind is urging you to explore this further, and not be afraid of it. The man's eyes are bloodshot because pain is also dangerous. Too much pain or pain channeled wrongly can hurt without giving pleasure.
"Why is he drunk Swami?"
"That is easy. He is drunk because once you experience the pleasure of pain, it is like an intoxicant. You will get drunk from it"

I sit there in complete silence as if  the zen master has revealed a secret world to me and I am experiencing it for the first time. He sits silently with me, waiting for me to come back to him

After what seems an eternity, I turn to him and ask "Who is the masked man Swami? Why is he masked? and why did I see your face in him?"

He gently moves his fingers across my face. His touch is light, sensuous, maddeningly erotic.
"He is the master, daasi. He is the leader. He commands the other qualities. The other men  are his traits. The giant represents his dominance and strength. He is capable of using humiliation and embarrassment to satisfy the deep craving in his slave and he knows how to administer pain in such a way that it will intoxicate his slave. He wears a mask because he is your fantasy man. He has all the right qualities. When your dream started, you were listing out the qualities of your fantasy man. Towards the end of your dream, you realized who your fantasy man was.

When he ripped his mask off, you saw my face in him"

He is emotional now. His voice breaks a little. "In the deepest recesses of your brain, I am your fantasy Daasi. You don't know how that makes me feel. There is nothing more sexually arousing for a man than to know that his lover's mind is so completely imprinted with him, that she sees nobody else even in her fantasies. When I face that truth, how can I not have a hard on?"

I look into his eyes. There is a hint of moisture in them.

"Swami, among all the things in this world that make be believe in a creator, you are the biggest reason.  I cannot imagine that we are together by chance. I feel in my bones that God made me and then imprinted you in my brain, my heart, my blood. You complete me Swami.. That is why you are my fantasy" I snuggle up to him and rest my head on his shoulders. I know he believes nothing of what I say, but I still love him.. He is my Swami....

His cell phone rings. He picks it up. It is Chutki on the line.

"Happy Father's day Jeeju" I hear her say.
"Thanks Chutki" he says and slowly walks away from me. I can see him talking with her for 30 mins, but can't hear what they are talking about.

Finally he is back, but he has a mischievous grin on his face.
"It's going to be a great father's day" he announces.

To be Continued.....