Dharma Sutra

by David Pugh

  ‘It was hilarious,’ Jeff put his arm around Shizuko’s shoulder, ‘You were a pioneer in the art of sexual entertainment, Pancake!’

  Remus found what he was hearing confusing and ordered another Kingfisher Strong; he was mentally counting how many men this woman had had during the course of one day.

  ‘I am very happy that I turned you on, Jeffrey,’ Shizuko demurely blinked her elfish eyes at him, ‘How many times have I made you cum? I want to know, that is the best part of the job, bringing pleasure to my fans.’

  ‘I don’t think I counted and it was many years ago, Dora Yaki, I was almost in love with you then,’ Jeff paused, ‘Now I think I am really falling in love!’

  ‘You are so sweet, Jeffrey,’ she put her hand on Jeff’s thigh; Remus looked jealous.

  ‘You do this funny work fifteen year?’ he asked.

  ‘I first had sex when I was fifteen, because the girls in school made it sound fun,’ Dora turned the elfish eyes on Remus, ‘My first boy was eighteen but he didn’t make me cum, that was my music teacher. He was twice my age and offered to give me private lessons at no charge. He taught me how to play the piano and how to give really good blowjob. He took my middle finger and put it in his mouth, running his tongue along it, I got the message. That one lesson got me my first adult video job at eighteen; I blew the director’s mind as well as his prick during the interview. I worked with him many times more and had a very long career, thirty-three when I retired, very old.’

  ‘You wrote a book about your career as Dora Yaki, it sold well?’ Jeffrey enquired.

  ‘Yes, it made me a lot of money, they even made a movie about my career based on the book, starring new JAV idol Urio Dango, sweet rice dumplings, another cake reference,’ she giggled, ‘Now the three of us need to write a script for our up and coming performance.’

  Chapter 78: The Body Is the Light, the Body Is the Way

  ‘I don’t think it is up to us to write a script, we don’t know the set and we don’t know the scenario,’ Jeff replied to Shizuko; they were still in the Santana Bar, ‘I don’t think even Papu knows what will happen or if anyone can predict the outcome; I doubt anything like this has been tried before.’

  ‘Sex very old, my brother,’ Remus was a little ahead of them on the beer, ‘When I boy Shaman get very high, he get womanses very high, other men get high watching, then everybody fucking!’

  ‘Sounds like one of my films, Remus,’ Shizuko laughed.

  ‘Remus is right, there probably have been thousands of sexual liaisons with the gods, but our churches have suppressed the thought of such things,’ Jeff paused, ‘What worries me is that now we are talking about forming a new church; I’m not sure I am happy with this.’

  ‘I am not comfortable with it myself,’ Shizuko put her arm around Jeffery’s waist, ‘I’ve never been drawn to any religion but I felt something very special inside the temple and I want to try this. If it doesn’t work at least I’ll have given one of my long-time fans the pleasure of having real sex with me!’

  ‘Madam, I’ll be most honoured, may I?’ Jeff kissed her on her lips, ‘You are a brave woman who understands the power of sex.’

  ‘I not fan, till now, I like kiss too!’ Shizuko obliged Remus and found his lips surprisingly soft and arousing.

  ‘Remus, you really have a power over women,’ she kissed him again to be sure.

  As the evening unfolded they all agreed that they were comfortable enough with each other to have a threesome, whether it was spiritual or not, they were falling in love. Remus and Jeffrey had been in brotherly love with each other since they met and as they had both been part of the three-way lovemaking with Sylvia, the idea of having open sex with Dora Yaki didn’t worry them.

  Just then a scuffle broke out behind one of the screens, rocking the gyrating Kingfisher girls. Shizuko being the only woman in the room felt rather scared and climbed the padded bench, rocking the table and hiding behind the massive frame of her new African friend. Jeffrey could see how tiny she was, no wonder they called her the sexy elf. Earlier he had presented her with an aromatic bunch of flowers which their waiter had put in a beer glass, they were now on the point of toppling; he caught the vase before it fell and then paraphrased a verse from his guru, Leonard Cohen,

  ‘…fists are flying in the Indian café Shizuko has climbed the table in her bridal negligee. Dora says, “My body is the light, my body is the way.”’

  Four waiters jumped in to try to bring calm to the would-be combatants and everything was quiet again. Jeffrey helped their bride compose herself; he reassured her that the Santana was normally a very civilised haven, very different to Puri’s other beer parlours. One of these parlours had removed their chairs, as they were continually being used as weapons. Shizuko repeated a line from the song,

  ‘My body is the light, my body is the way?’ looking at Jeffrey in realisation, ’That’s it isn’t it, the love chemical oxytocin releases at least five times the amount of endorphins in the brain, I’ve read much about it as part of my work.’

  ‘It’s the pineal gland, the “third eye” some call it, where all the pleasure chemicals are produced,’ this was Jeff’s most studied organ, he was fascinated by it, ‘It is stronger in women, because they release more when giving birth. For the rest of us, men, we only experience the rush of dimethyltryptamine it produces during birth, procreation, fucking for pleasure and death. DMT, the God chemical, is created when the pineal gland is produced at the forty-ninth day in the womb. The Tibetans believe that it takes forty-nine days for the soul of their loved one to find its new body; it’s there in the Bardo Thodol, their Book of the Dead. I guess DMT remains active in the dying brain, so our ego still lives on as our bodies decay. It’s an argument against cremation but our Hindu friends wouldn’t believe that. In Thai Buddhism bodies are cremated at the temple. On the Tibetan Plateau, however, they still practice Sky Burial, which could mean that your DMT is transferred into a vulture consuming your body. A vulture appeared above Sylvia as she was dying and was joined by another, the two flew off together. Her body is buried in the grounds of the Happy Hippo Hostel Hotel, so perhaps burial is the more natural way for humans to end.’

  Remus had just about kept up with the conversation, ‘No burn in Gambia, always bury, poor Sylvia!’

  Jeffrey briefly explained to Shizuko about the relationship his wife had enjoyed with the two men, and then continued with his thoughts on the pineal gland,

  ‘I think that during this ceremony we are about to undergo, we will need to unite our pineal glands, and I’m guessing we’ll use psilocybin, in the form of soma to induce it. You, Shizuko, will be the fermentation jar, your vagina to be precise, when Remus and I have released our psychoactive semen into you and it blends with the copious amount of vaginal fluid I’ve seen you produce in close up on your films, then we three shall become one, but you are the catalyst and I think that you may give birth to a spirit child, which will then live within the three of us.’

  Remus had been a bit lost during the lecture but the last words made him smile, ‘I give you my gift, womans.’

  Shizuko looked rather blown away, all she could say was, ‘Thank goodness I’m still taking the birth control pill, I don’t want a real baby!’

  SO ENDS PART TWO OF THE SONG OF SULIMAN

  Chapter 79: The Broken Hills

  Jeffrey’s Journal Continues

  “If you can control the animal inside, you can release a powerful primordial force that helps you celebrate your sexual being in true union with your partner. You’ll discover that you can touch Mokṣa, without having to die. Your two hearts powered by your sexual energy will lift you to another level of existence beyond death to another form of life; you will become transhuman.”

  Jeffrey Dharma, TRANSFIGURATION.

  Two days after our party at the Santana Bar, the three of us were on the back seat of a 4x4 that Om Pekesh was driving. Remus was sulking as he didn’t get the front seat because of his long legs
. I had to point out that as Om didn’t know where he was driving the hire car to; Papu had to give directions, so the priest got the prize seat. Shizuko was sitting in between us in a skirt; Remus consoled his disappointment by running his hand up her inner thigh, eventually touching her panties. Our priest explained that we were heading to Khandagiri, a network of Jain meditation caves in the Broken Hills, about 6km west of Bhubaneswar. Two mounds could be seen in the distance, side by side looking for the distant sea. Papu explained the nearest one to us was Khandagiri. I was feeling more than a little apprehensive about the up-and-coming sex show, unlike Dora Yaki I had never performed in front of anyone, excepting Remus. We left the car in the tourist car park and followed Papu, who was carrying a battered suitcase to a distant spot beyond the popular show caves.

  ‘No one comes here,’ he said and nodded to what I took to be a well with a metal grid blocking access.

  The grid once had a large lock but it had rusted away and now was just padlocked; Papu explained that only Jagannath priests have a key. A thick knotted rope hung from the side; our priest indicated footholds to descend into the excavation and he climbed down, still carrying the suitcase. Remus volunteered to go next, being an experienced climber, so as to catch one of us if we were to fall and instructed Shizuko to follow his lead. As she was wearing a knee-high skirt my African friend was afforded an excellent view of her panties. I pointed this out to Dora Yaki, who went along with the joke, pulling her panties to one side to allow Remus a peek of her pussy. Remus nearly lost his grip on the rope but steadied himself, contenting himself with looking at the panties, now illuminated by a flame torch Papu had lit down below. Om Pekesh was to remain at the top guarding the entrance; this was a relief as I didn’t know the man that well. I really hadn’t been looking forward to the idea of him judging my performance with Dora Yaki.

  When the four of us were safely at the bottom, Papu led us down a long corridor, decorated with scenes of the life and deeds of Lord Jagannath; he lit more torches along the way. It was like a scene from an Indiana Jones movie, I half expected sharp rods to break through the floor and a huge stone ball to chase us to what would be a dead end. As it happened at the end of the corridor was a decayed wooden door, held together by nails in a bronze sheet, into which had been hammered the embossed image of Jagannath as Krishna playing a flute. This door seemed to still have its original large box-style lock; Papu produced a heavy rusted key, which released the bolt driven into the wall. When our priest lit the three torches supported by brackets on the temple wall, I was surprised to see how large and airy the space was. I was expecting the pungent smell of bat shit, the ammonia from guano can take your breath away, but instead little points of natural light patterned the sanctum. Papu explained that there was another deep shaft above the room we stood in, which was exposed to the sky, small vents opened into the main temple from the shaft, keeping the air fresh. There was an impressive ancient stone sculpture serving as the altar, a carved Jagannath with legs crossed sat at the base, supporting his brother on his shoulders. Balabhadra in turn held Subhadra above him, her open loins resting on her white brother’s skull, from which emanated a large stone-carved snake that penetrated his sister’s vagina.

  ‘I could never have sex with a snake,’ Shizuko looked worried as if a recreation of this would be part of our ritual, but she added, ‘I once let a pig lick my pussy, he really turned me on.’

  ‘I never saw that film!’ I was a little shocked by this revelation.

  ‘Oh it wasn’t on film,’ she smiled wickedly, ‘I was visiting a farm and this lovely male pig kept sniffing my skirt; no one was looking so I slipped my panties and let him have a taste of me, it was lovely and he made me cum.’

  Remus was both impressed and shocked, ‘I like pigs, have many in Gambia, good chop but no fuck!’

  Papu was concerned that this frivolity in a sacred place would ruin the atmosphere. I had to confess to him that I wasn’t feeling anything and put it down to the fact that the stone statue had been painted many times, most recently in garish gloss paint. He told us the mood would soon change and ordered us to undress, while he hauled up several buckets of water from the ancient well in the centre of the room. He used the water to fill a stone bath to one side of the sanctum; it resembled an old world horse trough. I was to get in first; it was bloody cold and shrunk my penis, much to Shizuko’s amusement. Remus was hiding his flaccid member between his legs, making him look like a girl. Shizuko was next in, and Papu scrubbed her down a little more attentively than he had done with me. He paid particular attention to her vulva, ensuring it was clean, and then slipped some sort of pessary deep into her vagina. This was too much for Remus and his now erect member escaped from the confinement of his clamped legs. To his annoyance it would not go down when his turn came to be washed by the priest, who had to keep knocking it to one side; Remus kept repeating assurances that he was ‘No gay!’ Papu lit a small fire in a brazier, the smoke curled away through one of the vents. As the three of us dried ourselves in the warmth, the priest mixed up a potion I assumed to be some sort of soma and passed it between us to drink. He then painted images and symbols on our bodies which corresponded with those of our adopted murti; I had seven, what looked later to be Red Snapper painted on my bald head, like the Balabhadra in the beach temple. To this day I’m not sure what the fish stand for, unless Balabhadra is the protector of fishermen, a bit like Saint Andrew.

  I had been told off by Papu for swallowing a Seagra tablet with my soma, but I knew I would need all the help I could muster in my up and coming intimate contest with the legendary Dora Yaki. We were put to sit cross-legged on a large rug that Papu had laid out for us and in a triangular formation in front of the Jagannath totem pole. I was looking directly at the familiar wide-open pussy I had seen many times on computer screens, whether familiarity bred contempt, nothing was happening down below. I had seen Shizuko in such close up; on one occasion I even saw into her urethra, with the benefit of a fibre-optic camera a director had used on her. She was so delightful but truth to be told, I wanted her all to myself; I had shared one woman I loved with Remus Jallow and that had led to tragedy. Remus, on the other hand, had allowed the soma to work through him and of course was seeing Dora Yaki naked for the first time and his member stood up like a periscope from below the waves, wanting to see if any action was about to take place. Papu rectified my situation; he stood behind Shizuko and pushed her head down on my limp penis. Years of experience with hundreds of men took over, she was brilliant, an artist of the blowjob, I became very excited to be in the hands and mouth of this infamous woman. The Seagra and soma kicked in simultaneously, I was impressed to see that my rod looked longer and harder than I had ever seen it before and I was ready to fish with it. Now we all turned to our director to see if he would be choreographing our drama but Papu was gone, it was just the three of us. Dora Yaki turned to look and hold Remus’ penis,

  ‘I like this very much, Black Man, long, thick and hard, not like Japanese prick.’

  Remus looked a little smug but the satisfied smile didn’t last long when she told him that she had once had sex with three Afro-American men very similar to him,

  ‘They all fuck me in my three holes!’ she wickedly grinned, leaving Remus a little limper.

  ‘First I’ll take Jeffrey,’ she said matter of factly, ‘he’ll have time to recover for a second go with me, while he watches what I’ll do with you, Remus.’ It seemed that Dora Yaki would be our director in this little private production.

  Chapter 80: Take This Longing

  The soma took hold of us; I looked at Shizuko, who had taken on an almost full semblance of Subhadra, yellow skin, pierced right nostril and a hairless pussy.

  ‘You’re shaved?’ my echoey voice enquired.

  ‘No,’ she replied in an equally distant manner, ‘but it is the way you like it, the way you’ve seen it before.’

  ‘You are now my modeller, my sculptor, mould me with your hands into the s
hape of your perfect woman,’ her widening eyes seduced me into touching her breasts and as my hands caressed them, they changed into the shape of Rinzen’s lovely chest.

  ‘This isn’t right,’ I protested, ‘you are beautiful woman, I love you the way you are, don’t change!’

  The goddess spoke softly, seductively to me, ‘There have been many women you have loved; I can be all of them for you. You know this can be so, another has done this for you before.’

  Remus had become huge above us, his skin blacker than ever, his face had been made up to look like Jagannath, round white rings painted around his own eyes and his smile exaggerated but somewhat sinister, like Heath Ledger’s Joker. Then his face shimmered and reformed briefly into the black face of Issa, smiling down at us.

  Shocked I looked back at the beautiful Shizuko, now as she was at the beginning of the ceremony. I pulled on her long straight pubic hair to see if it was real, and she whispered, ‘Jeffrey, I am every woman.’

  Once again the power of popular song took hold of us and Whitney Houston’s voice filled the cave temple and the giant Remus danced.

  My lucid self felt she had been right to offer herself to me in any form I desired; it was tempting but this woman had a lovely, kind and innocent elfin face, despite my knowledge that so many penises had been caressed by those lovely lips. She was indeed all women, the spirit of Pachamama, Gaia the Earth Mother herself, Eve the first woman, Sheba and Salome, Marilyn and Madonna, Anaïs Nin and Dora Yaki. All women yes, but now for me she was Shizuko Ichigo and I immersed myself into her being. She was so good, a genius in the art of lovemaking, in control of every part of her body, closing her vagina to be an exact fit for me. Whatever the priest had put inside her vagina now transferred itself into me; it was like inserting my penis into a cosmic energy supply shaped as this woman’s vulva. I took it to be some sort of contraceptive paste that Papu had pushed into her with his fingers, a barrier against STD? No, this was more likely the psilocybin mixture used in his soma, as now I was so very aware of moving up and beyond Timothy Leary’s level-four high, into that dangerous world of the final level. The sexual union with Shizuko seemed to have brought us into a shared consciousness, we were lucid enough to describe to each other the sensations we were seeing and feeling. I was still inside her face to face, my penis now had the sensation of becoming so long that it was penetrating her entire being, an ultimate sensation of lovemaking. Then we entered that grey space I had been before, a vast nothingness but with translucent walls forming around us, made from a silver-neon repeating diamond pattern. The wall shattered and we were in the outer reaches of space, two vast beings making love among the pulsating suns. We peaked and orgasmed together, falling through the vast space of the universe. We were like the first humans seeding the Earth, remaining joined despite the falling, a divine sense of desire kept me hard inside her and we moved again towards a cosmic climax. Waves of light coursed through us as we moved together, now slower and deeper into the love we felt for each other and for all the beings that have ever existed.