The Hill

When I reached the monks at the exit, I got on my knees. I went from foot to foot and kissed and kissed, white, brown, and black feet, big small, hairy, bulky, cheese-smelly, lavender-smelly, salty-smelly, stinky-stinky, fresh-smelling, and onion-smelling. While I crawled on my knees, I came next to the Asian woman. We were kneeling in front of the same monk. She made eye contact for the briefest of moments and shook her head to say, "No, don't do this!" like a grave warning with fear in her eyes for me. I got the sense that she was deeply lost and beyond a certain point where this was no longer the worst for her.

The monk whom we kissed together seemed to smirk. He tapped both of us with his stick. We rose together and followed him. Her demeanor was very silent. She no longer tried to sneak messages to me. The gait of the monk had a very jovial nature to it. His hips were swinging like it was his birthday. He walked us into a cellar. Big wooden tubs were fermenting something. He took the Asian woman's leather wristbands and snapped them together. They were the same as the ones on her feet. He lifted them over a crane lift for the tubs in the ceiling. The Asian woman stood with her arms overhead so that she couldn't get away.

The monk seemed to savor the moment and then explained: "Here are the rules. I'll set a timer to ten minutes. One of your gets their bond downgraded and the other upgraded. If she makes a sound (pointing at the Asian woman), you are free (pointing at me). If she makes no sound, it's the other way around. All is fair."

With that, he stood back. I realized what this game was about now. I slapped the Asian woman on the butt without question. The soft fabric of her cotton pants muffled the spank. I pulled down her pants to her knees. I spanked her again to a loud thud. I could sense that she was experienced in meditating through pain. The response that I felt in her body was so solid. I looked around the room. I found some clamps on a clipboard. I lifted her shirt and pulled her bra down to clip them onto her nipples. She gave no response. There were about eight minutes left. I needed to get out of this place in time. I slapped her across the face with a sharps slap.

I pulled her pants and underwear off in a bout of desperation. I saw the thick cream on the inside of her thighs. She was doing the same thing that I did to transmute pain. I took a clamp and carefully attached it to her clit - carefully to not hurt her too much. More of that thick, white cream oozed down her thigh almost immediately.

I placed my left index finger on her pussy lips. I smacked her butt cheeks hard from behind with an open hand to create a sharp sting. With each thud, it was like I caused her to produce more cream oozing out of her. I gently caressed her lips while I spanked her savagely. Her lips got so slippery and engorged. And then a sigh of pleasure rang over her lips as the arousal became too overwhelming.

The monk ripped the red band on my wrist appeared and kept it. He sent me off while he stayed behind with the Asian woman.

I felt guilty. I had caused that woman another week of confinement so that I could get out. I felt selfish. The whole visit felt strange like the paradise had turned into a nightmare. Signing over my freedom was definitely a stupid idea. I was going to keep my head down. And when I'd get out, I'd simply chalk it up as having gone a little over the edge into danger. The pleasantness of working in the garden couldn't sink in anymore.

That night, I felt something on my lips. I tried to push it off with my tongue. Then I tasted skin. I opened my eyes surprised and fingers closed around my mouth. I opened my eyes. The Asian woman's eyes were right in front of mine in the darkness. I realized that I needed to be quiet. She took my hand and drew with her fingers on my palm.

I could make out the letters that she was drawing: "L-E-A-V-E-D-O-N-T-C-O-M-E-BACK-.-Y-O-U-W-O-U-D-N-T-B-E-L-I-E-V-E-W-H-A-T-T-H-E-Y-D-O-T-O-M-E."

With that, she slipped low and disappeared without ever casting a silhouette above the field beds.

The last day had arrived. I woke up feeling hopeful. The last meditation practice was very happy. Instead of silence, we did a group chant that felt like it strayed into rock music. Breakfast was avocado toast from those big, plumb avocados in the tree. Preparations were going on for the final ceremony. I knew that it was a bit edgy, but I'd make it through. Freedom felt within grasp.

We had a couple of free hours to roam around until the ceremony preparations were set. We were asked one by one by monks to follow them into the meditation hall. Now, it was full of tables, all placed into rows with space around them. With stolen glances, I saw that some of the tables had table clothes on them with a shape hidden underneath. The other tables were empty. I was asked to take off my clothes and lay on an empty table. After I closed my eyes, a flat stone was placed on my eyes to keep them ceiled closed. A skinny metal bracelet was laid over my wrist and ankles. The monk explained that these were soft restraints. If I moved and they fell off, I would be kept for another week. They were real restraints, but I had to maintain the restraint. They wouldn't hold me in. Then the tablecloth was placed over me to hide me entirely.

I was in entire darkness. At once, I could have gotten up at any time. Yet if I simply opened my eyelids and throw the flat stone off, it would make a big sound falling onto the table and I wouldn't be allowed to do the leaving ceremony. My eyes were wide open to hear what was going on. I heard other visitors brought in. I heard their clothes moving off their bodies and tablecloth flying through the air. The process took a lot of time, but with every minute, I anticipated the start and getting out. I was so impatient.

A single ding on a bell announced the start of the ceremony. The head of the monastery roared like a dying elk for a few minutes. Then monks went to the first table. I heard the swoosh of the tablecloth being lifted. I heard caresses of skin like someone massaging in lotion. I heard hushed sighs and moans. The atmosphere became heavy and erotic. The anticipation and resonance from everyone keenly listening filled the air with a heavy erotic aroma. In fact, I could smell pussy juices. The naughty, musk scent floated through the tablecloth into my nostrils. I knew that there would be a little intimate touching, nothing too serious.

The proceeding took a lot of time - perhaps ten minutes per table. When the monks moved to the table next to mine, it wasn't long before I could hear short, sharp panting like cry-sighs. The scent of sex was so pregnant in the air. I felt like it was soaking through my skin. I heard the clang of a sounding fork from the table next to me. The tone held for a long time - very resonant like standing in the air. I knew it was my turn.

The tablecloth was lifted off me - gently to not disturb my bonds. I was naked to whoever was doing the ceremony on me. First, they drizzled cold oil over my belly, which quickly ran over my skin. Swift hands grabbed the oil and started massing it over my body. There were hands helping to spread it down my thighs. There were hands firmly pressing and squeezing my boobs with the fast industrious and focused pace of a craftsman. There were hands spreading the oil between my toes. My senses were overwhelmed. I could no longer keep track of all the hands pressing and rubbing me all over. I surrendered to them. I smelled the sandalwood infusion of the oil.

I was bracing for what I remembered would come next. Two fingers spread my vulva apart, exposing my sex to the air. An index finger would glide up in between the lips to catch my clitoris and lift up the hood. Then in slow circles, a well-lubricated finger would start circling on my clitoris with the barest of pressure. I would feel super sensitive at first to the touch there, but nothing arousing. The touch would feel so light that it felt sensitive but neutral. I knew from the prior two experiences that this was deceptive. The arousal would build up with every circle, only I wouldn't notice until suddenly the horniness popped to the surface of my consciousness. It was like that I felt exposed and naked to whatever monks were standing over my body. I felt caught by the stones on my eyes and wrist braces.

Out of the blue, I felt the wetness of my sex when a quick running drop of probably translucent juice ran down my butt cheek and I let out a little tight that startled me with how guttural it was. How deep my horniness was shocked me. Ragingly horny, I had to restrain myself from grabbing the hand and pressing it hard against my clit. I so badly wanted to get off. I started crying out from the suffering of not being able to give into my despair of needing to get only a little bit of hard action to get off - only a little bit. The finger kept circling my clit, slowly and so painfully light that I could barely feel it, but every one of those subtle circles was spraying electric sparks. "Please, please, please," I started begging covered by sighs. The finger got even more gentle as to torment me worth. Drop after drop of quick running, slick pussy juice ran downward to my butt. It was like I was dripping sweat.

The intensity made me see lights, lots of colors! There were swirls of colors. My breath had become one continuous high-pitched soft cry - trying to keep it down but knowing that the monks enjoyed this. And then I felt the warmth spreading. Suddenly, I knew that I was in the presence of god. I had broken through the fabric of reality. My soul was touching god consciousness. I felt bliss. I realized that all my stressors were illusions. Nothing was real, except for god. The desperation to come dissipated, surrendered to the blissful warmth and wholeness that I felt in the presence of god. I simply wanted to stay here. Then the colors and presence left. All that was left was darkness, not a scary darkness, but a calming absence of everything, a purity.

One of the monks must have held the sounding fork over my chest. I heard the hammer hit it hard. The eerie vibrating sound of the fork went right into my body. My windpipe vibrated with it. I could feel the vibration in my chest cavity like a tingle that made everything dance. And my body resonated the tone back and began to sing by itself without my vocal cords. All the sexual release and sighing had let myself surrender so much that my body was so clear. I had passed the final test.

A monk lifted the stones of my eyes. Another lifted the metal chains. A stick tapping on my chin reminded me to still keep my gaze down. Then they sent me to walk down the hallway. I felt like walking on clouds. The happiness that I would get out, the sensitivity to feel again from all the meditation, and the sexual encounter all blurred together. I got my knapsack back. I quickly changed. I walked out of the monastery. A little bus was waiting for us to drive us down to the village.

I felt like I should never go back to the place. It was too dangerous. Yet I always longed to feel that touch of god again.