Rajeet, the Raja of Raipur, turned from dealing with Clarence Sinclair, the Englishman who was dedicated to handling the raja’s financial accounting, and gave his attention to watching the accountant’s luscious fourteen-year-old ginger haired, green eyed, willowy son, David, swimming laps in the Raipur palace pool like a golden fish. At the raja’s direction the handsome boy was swimming in the nude. Sinclair wasn’t pleased with what the raja was doing, but he knew it was coming. He knew Rajeet was cultivating and grooming the son, and he had been using it to ensure his own employment. There was just him. His wife was gone. So no one else had to be assuaged.

The boy didn’t object to it. He and Rajeet had gotten along famously—affectionately; increasingly intimately. The raja had mentored and sponsored the boy. He paid for his schooling at the English School and for the dance lessons. The raja would pay for any lessons or exercises that kept the boy flexible. He had prepared the boy. He had groomed him for this day. They spent a lot of time together. They laughed together and played together. They kissed and hugged. Rajeet had shown the boy the illustrations of how they could be together, as one, the positions they could take to find mutual pleasure. He had spoken with the boy about the relations that could be between men and of the tantric techniques the raja followed. And the boy had been interested, and, not being aware of all the options in life, had consented to the role Rajeet wanted him to fulfill in the raja’s life.

He was ready. Today he told Sinclair that the boy was moving to the palace and would become as a wife to the raja. The two would lie together and sleep together.

“You mean you will—?”

“Yes, but it will be gentle and loving. I am an adherent of tantric sex. The boy knows what this entails and he will be trained in it. He has consented. He wants to be with me.”

Clarence Sinclair left the palace not altogether happy except that it guaranteed his job here in India. India had become Clarence Sinclair’s life. There was nothing anymore in England in the first decade of the twentieth century that Sinclair could be at home with.

And Rajeet had carefully prepared, when asked—when explicitly being asked in the presence of his father if he was ready to become a wife to the raja—David had said yes, declaring that he knew what that meant—today—within the next hour.

Clarence Sinclair said nothing at that point. He accepted the documents that established his life and livelihood in Raipur and that transferred guardianship of his son over to the raja, bid the boy good-bye, and turned his face away.

“David,” Rajeet called out. “Come out of the pool now. Do your flexibility exercises for me, and then we will go into the bedroom for the ceremony.”

Rising from the pool, the beautiful young, fourteen-year-old, lithe ginger angel dried himself off. He reached for a langot—a loin cloth—to cover himself to do his exercises on the terrace between the pool and where the raja was sitting, but Rajeet called out, “No, do not clothe yourself. I wish to watch you move that lovely little body of yours in its nakedness. It helps me prepare for our ceremony of consummation—your deflowering.” The time for euphemisms was past. This was the day he’d been preparing for to possess the boy fully. Rajeet had explained what deflowering was between a man and a boy. David understood and had agreed. The father had been bought off. There was no one else in Raipur able, willing, or interested to stay his intent.

He stripped off his silken dhoti and his langot and sat in his chair, taking his shaft in his hand, and slowly stroked himself erect while he watched the willowy young boy with the fluid dancing movements go through his flexibility exercises.

Slow, languid, sensuous, the tantric way. They would be such sensual dance partners.

At length he stood, proud and in erection, and motioned for the boy to come forward and go with him through the beaded curtain leading into the raja’s bedroom.

When they had discussed what came next, the boy agreed that it probably would be best if he were bound. It was what the raja wanted, a fetish he had with young boys, but he didn’t have much trouble convincing the boy. David was a placid, malleable, yielding boy. That was part of what had made Rajeet obsessed with possessing him totally.

Rajeet’s attendants tied the boy, naked, spread-eagled and face down, on the bed, legs and arms spread and tied of with silken roping to the four corners of the bed, Silken pillows went under his belly, lifting his buttocks into an accessible, vulnerable position.

The sprinkled his body and the bed with fragrant rose petals.

Masseurs came into the room, one for the boy and one for the raja, who lay on a massage table where he could watch the boy being prepared. The masseurs worked all of the muscles of both—all of the muscles—with sensuous oils. The raja’s erection was enhanced to the limit but kept in check. The boy was young and inexperienced. He had not been accorded a total-muscle massage to this point. He was now, however. He came under the handing of the masseur, but that was no matter. He would come again and again, and, indeed, did do so again before—and then after—the raja mounted him.

He was young and able flow repeatedly. The raja had trained himself to be able to flow repeatedly.

The masseur working on the boy had brought with him a leather phallus crafted to the size and shape and curve of the raja’s own shaft. For the raja’s convenience and pleasure, the boy was to be sufficiently open to the raja’s needs the moment Rajeet wished to mount him for the first time.

The phallus was oiled up and the boy was prepared, spread and stretched to the specifications the raja would need for the deflowering. David writhed and panted and groaned as he was penetrated and stretched. He was no longer a virgin to a leather phallus when he was deemed ready—and he had given up another climax of seed—but he had not been deflowered by man yet.

And then he was. Rajeet rose off his massage table, moved over to the bed, climbed onto it, mounted the boy from behind and above, clutching David’s hips as he penetrated and slowly sank in. A leather phallus is not quite like a man’s cock. David writhed and panted and sobbed again as Rajeet sank into him, moving his hands to pressing on the boy’s shoulder blades, and rising and falling, rising and falling, riding the boy as he would his horse across the Indian plains. Using the tantric principle of slow, gentle, but relentless and total.

Rajeet relentlessly marched to ejaculation, breeding the boy, tearing his virginity out of him, stealing himself to any sounds of distress the boy was making. This was a hurdle that they must get over. This had been explained to the boy. Rajeet released his flow. Then he stretched out on the whimpering lad, covering the boy’s body with his, embracing him, the scented oil anointing his body merging with that anointing the boy’s trembling body. After several minutes, the boy moaned, feeling the shaft inside him coming to life again. Rajeet went back up on his knees, grasped the boy’s hips between his hands, and began again—rising and falling, rising and falling. He released once more. Again he rested on the boy and again he came back to life.

And again he fucked the boy. Resting and fucking. Resting and fucking. Throughout the afternoon and evening, the raja made the boy his, again and again.

As he lay atop the boy the last time, kissing him in the hollow of his throat, shushing the boy’s tears and calming David’s trembling body, he murmured, “Tomorrow, after school and after your dance lesson, you will be taken for tantric instruction. We will be coupling the tantric way. You will go to lessons with the tantric master and then you will come back to me and we will employ what I know—and what you will have learned in the realm of tantric-assisted pleasure.”

David didn’t know what that meant, but he dutifully whispered in an exhausted voice, “Yes, master. Whatever you want, master.”

Of all the things David Sinclair knew or suspected, the one thing he was sure of was that he now was owned, body and soul, by the Raja of Raipur. Nobody would naysay whatever the Raja of Raipur wanted.

The tantric master was a god. He was younger than Rajeet, the Raja of Raipur, who was a handsome fit man for his age of forty, but Aakesh was perfect—the darkness of South India, beauty beyond compare, the movement of a dancer, sensual and sensuous, hard-bodied, slightly hirsute, perfectly formed. The phallus of a god.

He looked favorably on David when the boy was brought to him. “Sometimes I must demonstrate largely by word,” he said. “Sometimes I cannot be fully aroused by my tantric client. But there will be no such problem with you. I was told you were European and had the flexibility of youth and a dancer, but I was not told you were of such reddish-blond beauty. We will make lovely tantric sex together—purely for instructional purposes, of course. It is understood that you are a slave of the Raja of Raipur.”

Yes, David recognized that that was what he had become. The raja had many slaves he owned. David was now just another of those slaves.

As they both stripped and attendants oiled their bodies, Aakesh put his hands on David’s shoulders and turned him to look directly into his eyes. “This is important,” he said. “This you must keep in your mind forever. The first thing to keep in mind is that you are learning these tantric positions to give the raja pleasure. He has chosen them for you to learn. The priority here is for the raja to find the completion of his choice. If he pleases to bring you to completion also, that is because it is his pleasure to do so. So, if you feel the flow coming on, give way to it. Let it happen. Nirvana in this tantric sex play is if you can flow without having to use your own hands or with the attention of your partner. His attention will be on his own pleasure. And, above all, the basic meaning of the tantric way is gentleness. The movements are slow and graceful. The flow is like the burbling of a quiet stream. You must eschew any form of intensity of passion. Nirvana is the satisfaction of the gentle flow. Can you remember that?”

“Yes, master, I think so.”

“If you are giving the raja pleasure, you will be receiving pleasure yourself. You belong to the raja. Your task is to please him.”

“Yes, master.”

“Good. He has identified ten positions of the man-to-boy tantra that he wants you to know. We will cover three of them today. They are numbered and named. First is Ek—One—Oral Love. Come into the demonstration room with me.”

David followed Aakesh into a room walled in tile of pleasing, soft-colored Asian motifs. The ceiling was sky blue and the flooring a soft green. A wide and long white mat covered the center of the room. Scented candles were strewn around. A narrow, carved wooden column rose from floor to ceiling centered on the mat on one edge.

“Lie on your back on the mat, the column above your head,” Aakesh directed in a calm, low-modulated voice. “Spread and bend your legs, place your feet flat on the mat.” David did so.

“Move slower, with more deliberate grace the next time and every time you move in any way. It’s the tantric way. Slow, graceful, peaceful flow. The flow the raja is to receive is to be like a babbling brook, not the anger spouting of seed. Yours, if and when he allow it or provides it, should be the same. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

“Lift your arms above your head.” David did so, and an attendant stepped forward with a silken red cord and tied David’s wrist together behind the column. The attendants withdrew and Aakesh came down between David’s spread legs, going into a cross-legged sitting position. He lightly grasped David’s knees and spread the boy’s legs even further apart, letting his eyes lower to gaze upon the boy’s genitals. David felt the vulnerability of this action and, as it continued for several moments with Aakesh doing nothing but looking at his genitals, David gave a low moan and his cock lurched and engorged.

“Slowly, gracefully, in peace,” Aakesh murmured.

Aakesh slowly leaned over and down and softly blew on David’s genitals. The boy quivered. The tantric master lifted his head, not losing contact with the boy’s cock, with was bobbing and engorging. Twice more Aakesh leaned over and blew on the boy’s genitals. David moaned and his hips involuntarily began a slight rocking motion. He groaned and jerked when on the fourth dip, Aakesh took, first one of the boy’s balls, and then the other, in his mouth and gently rolled them around in his cheek. When he came off the second ball, he murmured, “Slow, gentle. Learn not to make quick movements in reaction. A smooth, burbling stream.”

David sighed and fought his natural reaction when the next lowering of the head had Aakesh’s mouth opening over David’s cock and the tantric master’s tongue tip lapping at the boy’s urethra slit. David’s body quivered and the rocking of the hips became more pronounced. Aakesh’s hands on David’s knees began to gently, slowly sway the boy’s bent legs back and forth, using the boy’s flexibility to take the knees to the mat on either side at the greatest extension, emphasizing the sensation of total vulnerability, openness, and surrender. With an unexpected—to the boy—sigh, David came in Aakesh’s throat.

“Sorry,” he muttered, totally anguished.

“No, don’t be,” Aakesh said, after swallowing the boy’s essence and sliding his mouth off the boy’s cock. “That was as determined and it was good—a natural flow. That is what you must strive for each and every time. No anger, no heat. Just a natural, flowing release of your essence. You did well.”

“But you said it was all about the raja’s pleasure. I have released and you have not. He will have not.”

“I have not yet, but I will. The raja specified this position and this act. He will have pleasure with your response of this form of love making. But we are not done.”

Aakesh rose up on his knees between David’s legs. He gently took hold of the boy’s ankles and moved David’s feet to be flat against Aakesh’s chest. He moved the underside of his cock, which was in erection, to the boy’s hole and gently rose and fell on his knees, causing his cock to rub over the boy’s hole, with David panting and moaning, until the boy was open enough for the cock to slide in. He slowly penetrated, gently stretching and opening the boy’s passage, which was well open from the raja’s deflowering ceremony. He fucked the boy in long, slow, gentle glides until he stopped moving and his seed started flowing. He was trained to prolonged flow. He gently gripped the boy’s knees and returned the bent legs to the full side extension, knees pressed to the mat on either side, returning to the position of full vulnerability of the groin. He held for a few minutes, but both he and the boy felt him going turgid again inside the boy’s passage. David arched his back, panted and moaned as Aakesh gently fucked him again.

An attendant was gestured to come forward and release David’s wrists. Aakesh, back in a cross-legged position, gently raised the boy and brought him into his lap, facing him, David’s legs wrapped around Aakesh’s hips. They rested, Aakesh indulging in enticing David in sweet little kisses on the lips and kissing down the boy’s throat and to his nipples as the boy leaned back. Aakesh said nothing while they rested, so David said nothing either. He continued to pant and moan low, though.

At length, them both having felt the tantric master’s cock gaining strength yet again, Aakesh spoke. “We are already in the Do—the second—position. This is the basic tantric position, called the Yab-Yum. As he spoke, Aakesh was already putting David in position, moving his own erection into position at David’s entrance, placing the palm of one hand on David’s tailbone and slowly, gently, but relentlessly, pulling the boy’s passage onto and ever-more-deeply possessed by Aakesh’s thick, throbbing shaft. Once deeply possessing the boy, Aakesh spent the next twenty minutes gently manipulating the boy’s body around, forward and back, side to side, up and down, moving the boy’s passage to fuck itself on the cock. He held, gently but firmly, as his flow started and continued and David moaned his own flowing release.

“Good, you joined me,” Aakesh whispered. “And you did it without touching it. That is a tantric goal. Now Teen, position three, The Dolphin, is entered through the Yab-Yum position we are already in. Raise your legs so that your ankles are before my face, but do so without letting your passage come off my shishn—my shaft.” He picked up the length of red silk roping. The demonstration of the Teen position began.

Later that evening, back in the raja’s palace, the day’s tantric lesson was being reviewed and Rajeet and David had reached the third, Teen, position, The Dolphin. David was sitting on Rajeet’s crossed legs, facing him, Rajeet’s cock buried in his passage, and upon Rajeet’s command, the highly flexible boy had raised his legs straight up in front of the man. Rajeet picked up a gold cord, bound the boy’s ankles together, and moved them over the raja’s head so that they were bound together behind Rajeet’s neck.