In the shadowed outskirts of Varanasi, where the Ganges whispered ancient secrets to the burning ghats, lived a man named Arjun. At 35, he had once been the epitome of middle class ambition, a software engineer in a bustling IT firm married to the woman he thought was his soulmate, Priya. She was 32,Bengali,a voluptuous beauty with curves that turned heads full, busty breasts that strained against her blouses, wide hips that swayed like a siren's call, and a body that seemed sculpted for indulgence. Her skin was fair, almost luminescent, and her dark eyes held a perpetual hunger, a restlessness that Arjun had mistaken for passion. But beneath that allure lay a nymphomaniac's insatiable crave, a storm that had wrecked his life.
Their marriage had started like a fairy tale. Arjun met Priya in college, he fell to her vivacious energy and her unapologetic sensuality. She was the girl who laughed too loudly, danced too freely and loved with an intensity that left him breathless. They married young, against family advice and for the first few years, it was bliss. Arjun worked long hours to build their home in the city, dreaming of children and a future. Priya, a homemaker by choice, filled their days with homemade meals and nights with wild uninhibited sex. She was a nympho in every sense craving touch constantly,initiating encounters in the kitchen, the car and even public places when the mood struck. Arjun adored it, thinking it was love.
But cracks appeared slowly. Priya's restlessness grew. She started disappearing for so called shopping trips that lasted hours, returning with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. Arjun ignored the signs at first but the late night texts, the new lingerie he hadn't bought, the faint scent of another man's cologne on her skin. He was too trusting, too in love. Then, one rainy evening, he came home early to surprise her and found her in their bed with his best friend, Rehan. The image burned into his mind that Priya's busty form arched in ecstasy, her thick thighs wrapped around Rehan, moaning in ways Arjun had only heard in their private moments.
The betrayal shattered him. Priya didn't even cry,she screamed back, accusing him of being boring, of not satisfying her endless desires. "You're too vanilla, Arjun, I need more and more men, more excitement!" she had spat, her nymphomaniac nature laid bare in her fury. She filed for divorce the next day, claiming emotional abuse and demanding alimony that would bankrupt Arjun and half his salary for life, plus their apartment and savings. The court swayed by her tears and fabricated stories, ruled in her favor. Arjun lost everything, his job from the stress, his friends who sided with her lies, his self respect.
Now penniless and broken, Arjun wandered to the Manikarnika Ghat, the cremation ground where bodies burned day and night, reminding the living of life's futility. The December chill bit into his skin as he stood on the riverbank, the Ganges lapping at his feet like a mocking lover. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the misty air. "Why live?" he whispered, his voice lost in the crackle of funeral pyres. With nothing left no home, no love, no future, he jumped, the cold water swallowing him whole.
But death didn't claim him. Strong arms pulled him from the depths, dragging him to the shore. Gasping and sputtering, Arjun looked up into the eyes of an old man Baba Shivnath, a tantric sage who dwelled in the shadows of the ghats. Baba was in his sixties, wiry and weathered, with matted hair adorned with rudraksha beads, a ruddy face marked by years of ascetic practice, and eyes that pierced the soul. He was a master of Vidya the ancient tantric sexual sciences, drawing from Vigyan Bhairav Tantra, Sahajyan, and the Baul traditions. He saw sex not as sin, but as a path to enlightenment.
"Why fight the river, son?" Baba asked, his voice gravelly b ut soothing as he wrapped Arjun in a blanket and led him to a small fire amid the pyres. The shamshan was alive with flickering flames, the air was thick with incense and the scent of sandalwood. Ghost of the departed seemed to whisper in the wind, but Baba sat unfazed, cross legged on the ground.
Arjun collapsed beside the fire, his body shivering, his heart a void. As the warmth seeped in, he poured out his soul. "She cheated on me, Baba. Not once, but countless times. With my friend, with strangers,anyone who caught her eye. She's a nympho, addicted to sex like a drug. And now, she's taken everything. The court gave her alimony that'll leave me destitute. I have nothing left. Death seemed kinder."
Baba listened silently, his eyes reflecting the fire's dance. He understood betrayal's sting; in his youth, he too had been scorned by a lover, driving him to the tantric path. "The world is Maya, illusion," he said finally. "Your pain is real, but so is the power within you. You've lost everything that's freedom. Nothing to fear, nothing to lose. Become my shishya(deciple). I'll teach you the Vidya: tantric secrets from Sahajyan's natural bliss, Baul's ras sadhana. Through sex, you'll transcend pain, control energies, awaken Kundalini."
Arjun stared into the flames, the pyres reminding him of his burned life. "Why me? I'm broken."
"Because the broken seek truth," Baba replied. "And you have no chains left."
With no options death or this strange path Arjun nodded. "Teach me, Baba."
The next days blurred into initiation. Baba took Arjun to his humble kutir near the ghats, a thatched hut filled with ancient scrolls, yantras, and herbs. First, he taught breath control pranayama to harness life force. "Sex is energy," Baba explained. "In Sahajyan, Union of man and woman awakens the divine."
But Baba's first act was practical: vengeance through tantra. "Your wife must face her karma," he said. That night, under the full moon, Baba performed a vashikaran ritual.Seated in a circle of rice and vermilion, he chanted mantras from Kulachudamani Tantra, visualizing Priya's form. Arjun watched, skeptical yet hopeful, as Baba's eyes rolled back, his body trembling with shakti."She'll come," he whispered.
Two days later, Priya arrived unannounced, her busty figure wrapped in a simple saree, eyes glazed as if in a trance. She had left her parents' home in Kolkata, driven by an inexplicable pull. "I... I had to come," she murmured, collapsing at Baba's feet. Arjun's heart raced anger, betrayal, a twisted relief.
In the kutir, lit by oil lamps, Baba commanded, "Reveal all, child. The truth sets free."
Priya, under the vashikaran's spell, broke. Her voice trembled at first, then flowed like a dam bursting. "I cheated from the start, Arjun. Even before marriage. In college, I slept with professors for grades three, four times a week. After we wed, it was Rehan first. He was rough, exciting. We'd meet in hotels, cars. I craved it the thrill, the bodies. Then the neighbor, the delivery boy, even your boss once. I'm a nympho; I can't stop. Sex is my addiction. I'd orgasm thinking of new lovers while you slept beside me. I faked the abuse claims for money to fund my affairs. I've been with over 50 men in five years."Arjun's face twisted in rage, fists clenched. Tears welled as emotions crashed: love turned to hate, humiliation to fury."You whore, you destroyed me!" he roared.
Baba placed a hand on his shoulder. "Anger is energy. Channel it."
In his fury, Arjun spat, "Take her, Baba. Right here, in front of me. Show her what real power is."
Priya's eyes widened, but the nympho in her stirred a mix of fear and arousal. Baba nodded solemnly. "This is sadhana, not lust. We'll invoke 68th technique: union as samadhi."
The room thickened with tension. Baba guided them to a mat, chanting softly. Priya, compelled yet eager, shed her saree, her busty breasts heaving, nipples hardening in the cool air. Her body was a temple of curves thick thighs, round hips, a wetness already betraying her desire. Arjun watched, heart pounding, a voyeur to his own revenge.
Baba began slowly, teaching as he acted. "Breath in sync," he murmured, positioning Priya in yab yum: she straddled him, his erect lingam entering her yoni gently. No thrusting stillness. "Feel the energy rise," he said, eyes locked on hers. Priya moaned, her nympho instincts kicking in, grinding slightly. But Baba held her hips. "No movement. This is Sahajyan natural bliss."
Arjun's emotions swirled: jealousy, arousal, catharsis.As they sat, breaths merging, Baba explained, "In technique 68, as mind quiets, atma reveals. Orgasm's peak dissolves ego."Priya's confessions echoed in Arjun's mind, fueling his pain. But watching, he felt a strange detachment. Baba chanted Baul songs softly: "Maner manush je re, kothay thakis tui..." (Where is the man of my heart?) code for inner divine.
Priya's body trembled, her busty form glistening with sweat. "I need more," she begged, true to her nympho nature. Baba allowed subtle movements, invoking Kundalini. Energy surged, Priya arched, crying out as waves built. At the brink, they froze, breaths held in kumbhaka. Orgasm hit like thunder: Priya's body convulsed, but Baba remained still, channeling ojas upward.In that moment, Priya shattered not just physically, but emotionally. "Forgive me" she sobbed post climax, collapsing. Arjun, witnessing the tantric power, felt his anger ebb, replaced by empowerment.
Baba disengaged gently, covering her. "This is ras sadhana's essence," he told Arjun. "Raja and veerya mix, creating char chand--four moons of bliss. But we transcend consumption here; it's union."
Over the next weeks, Arjun delved deeper into Vidya.Baba taught him Vigyan Bhairav's techniques: breath viram for daily meditation, sound vibrations controlled during arousal. Arjun practiced alone at first, mastering ujjayi pranayama to control ejaculation, turning lust into ojas.Priya, still under vashikaran, stayed. Her nympho tendencies were harnessed--Baba used her as a mudra partner for sadhana. One night, by the Ganges, Baba initiated Arjun into karma mudra. "Join us," he said.Priya, busty and eager, lay between them.Arjun hesitated, emotions raw betrayal fresh. But Baba guided: "Forgive through union."They formed a triangle: Arjun entering Priya from behind, Baba in front, all in stillness. Breaths synced, energies circulated. Priya moaned, her body a conduit: "I can't stop wanting... but this is different." As climax neared, they invoked technique 68, ego dissolution.Arjun felt Kundalini rise, a serpent uncoiling from muladhara to sahasrara.Stars exploded,time stopped. Post-orgasm, in shanti, Arjun cried releasing years of pain.Emotional layers peeled, Arjun confronted his inadequacy feelings, Priya her addiction's roots (childhood neglect fueling her cravings).Baba facilitated talks by fire, singing Duddu Shah's songs"Ras er khela je khela..." (The play of ras).
Priya confessed more: "My first affair was with a cousin at 18. I craved the forbidden. With Rehan, it was weekly threesomes sometimes. I even paid men online." Arjun's heart ached, but tantra taught detachment. "She's Shakti unbound," Baba said. "Tame her through sadhana."
Arjun's transformation accelerated. He learned Baul ras-sadhana: on amavasya, they performed full ritual. Priya's raja collected during flow, mixed with Arjun's sperm. They ingested symbolically tilak on foreheads. Energy surged.
Priya's nymphomania evolved: from destructive to sacred. "I feel whole," she admitted, busty form now a vessel for divine play.
Months passed. Arjun, now a adept, reversed the alimony case through tantric influence. Priya withdrew claims. But he chose freedom, leaving her redeemed yet separate.
By the Ganges, Arjun thanked Baba. "You saved me."
Baba smiled. "You saved yourself through Vidya."
Arjun wandered on, a tantric wanderer, his pain alchemized into power.
Their marriage had started like a fairy tale. Arjun met Priya in college, he fell to her vivacious energy and her unapologetic sensuality. She was the girl who laughed too loudly, danced too freely and loved with an intensity that left him breathless. They married young, against family advice and for the first few years, it was bliss. Arjun worked long hours to build their home in the city, dreaming of children and a future. Priya, a homemaker by choice, filled their days with homemade meals and nights with wild uninhibited sex. She was a nympho in every sense craving touch constantly,initiating encounters in the kitchen, the car and even public places when the mood struck. Arjun adored it, thinking it was love.
But cracks appeared slowly. Priya's restlessness grew. She started disappearing for so called shopping trips that lasted hours, returning with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. Arjun ignored the signs at first but the late night texts, the new lingerie he hadn't bought, the faint scent of another man's cologne on her skin. He was too trusting, too in love. Then, one rainy evening, he came home early to surprise her and found her in their bed with his best friend, Rehan. The image burned into his mind that Priya's busty form arched in ecstasy, her thick thighs wrapped around Rehan, moaning in ways Arjun had only heard in their private moments.
The betrayal shattered him. Priya didn't even cry,she screamed back, accusing him of being boring, of not satisfying her endless desires. "You're too vanilla, Arjun, I need more and more men, more excitement!" she had spat, her nymphomaniac nature laid bare in her fury. She filed for divorce the next day, claiming emotional abuse and demanding alimony that would bankrupt Arjun and half his salary for life, plus their apartment and savings. The court swayed by her tears and fabricated stories, ruled in her favor. Arjun lost everything, his job from the stress, his friends who sided with her lies, his self respect.
Now penniless and broken, Arjun wandered to the Manikarnika Ghat, the cremation ground where bodies burned day and night, reminding the living of life's futility. The December chill bit into his skin as he stood on the riverbank, the Ganges lapping at his feet like a mocking lover. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the misty air. "Why live?" he whispered, his voice lost in the crackle of funeral pyres. With nothing left no home, no love, no future, he jumped, the cold water swallowing him whole.
But death didn't claim him. Strong arms pulled him from the depths, dragging him to the shore. Gasping and sputtering, Arjun looked up into the eyes of an old man Baba Shivnath, a tantric sage who dwelled in the shadows of the ghats. Baba was in his sixties, wiry and weathered, with matted hair adorned with rudraksha beads, a ruddy face marked by years of ascetic practice, and eyes that pierced the soul. He was a master of Vidya the ancient tantric sexual sciences, drawing from Vigyan Bhairav Tantra, Sahajyan, and the Baul traditions. He saw sex not as sin, but as a path to enlightenment.
"Why fight the river, son?" Baba asked, his voice gravelly b ut soothing as he wrapped Arjun in a blanket and led him to a small fire amid the pyres. The shamshan was alive with flickering flames, the air was thick with incense and the scent of sandalwood. Ghost of the departed seemed to whisper in the wind, but Baba sat unfazed, cross legged on the ground.
Arjun collapsed beside the fire, his body shivering, his heart a void. As the warmth seeped in, he poured out his soul. "She cheated on me, Baba. Not once, but countless times. With my friend, with strangers,anyone who caught her eye. She's a nympho, addicted to sex like a drug. And now, she's taken everything. The court gave her alimony that'll leave me destitute. I have nothing left. Death seemed kinder."
Baba listened silently, his eyes reflecting the fire's dance. He understood betrayal's sting; in his youth, he too had been scorned by a lover, driving him to the tantric path. "The world is Maya, illusion," he said finally. "Your pain is real, but so is the power within you. You've lost everything that's freedom. Nothing to fear, nothing to lose. Become my shishya(deciple). I'll teach you the Vidya: tantric secrets from Sahajyan's natural bliss, Baul's ras sadhana. Through sex, you'll transcend pain, control energies, awaken Kundalini."
Arjun stared into the flames, the pyres reminding him of his burned life. "Why me? I'm broken."
"Because the broken seek truth," Baba replied. "And you have no chains left."
With no options death or this strange path Arjun nodded. "Teach me, Baba."
The next days blurred into initiation. Baba took Arjun to his humble kutir near the ghats, a thatched hut filled with ancient scrolls, yantras, and herbs. First, he taught breath control pranayama to harness life force. "Sex is energy," Baba explained. "In Sahajyan, Union of man and woman awakens the divine."
But Baba's first act was practical: vengeance through tantra. "Your wife must face her karma," he said. That night, under the full moon, Baba performed a vashikaran ritual.Seated in a circle of rice and vermilion, he chanted mantras from Kulachudamani Tantra, visualizing Priya's form. Arjun watched, skeptical yet hopeful, as Baba's eyes rolled back, his body trembling with shakti."She'll come," he whispered.
Two days later, Priya arrived unannounced, her busty figure wrapped in a simple saree, eyes glazed as if in a trance. She had left her parents' home in Kolkata, driven by an inexplicable pull. "I... I had to come," she murmured, collapsing at Baba's feet. Arjun's heart raced anger, betrayal, a twisted relief.
In the kutir, lit by oil lamps, Baba commanded, "Reveal all, child. The truth sets free."
Priya, under the vashikaran's spell, broke. Her voice trembled at first, then flowed like a dam bursting. "I cheated from the start, Arjun. Even before marriage. In college, I slept with professors for grades three, four times a week. After we wed, it was Rehan first. He was rough, exciting. We'd meet in hotels, cars. I craved it the thrill, the bodies. Then the neighbor, the delivery boy, even your boss once. I'm a nympho; I can't stop. Sex is my addiction. I'd orgasm thinking of new lovers while you slept beside me. I faked the abuse claims for money to fund my affairs. I've been with over 50 men in five years."Arjun's face twisted in rage, fists clenched. Tears welled as emotions crashed: love turned to hate, humiliation to fury."You whore, you destroyed me!" he roared.
Baba placed a hand on his shoulder. "Anger is energy. Channel it."
In his fury, Arjun spat, "Take her, Baba. Right here, in front of me. Show her what real power is."
Priya's eyes widened, but the nympho in her stirred a mix of fear and arousal. Baba nodded solemnly. "This is sadhana, not lust. We'll invoke 68th technique: union as samadhi."
The room thickened with tension. Baba guided them to a mat, chanting softly. Priya, compelled yet eager, shed her saree, her busty breasts heaving, nipples hardening in the cool air. Her body was a temple of curves thick thighs, round hips, a wetness already betraying her desire. Arjun watched, heart pounding, a voyeur to his own revenge.
Baba began slowly, teaching as he acted. "Breath in sync," he murmured, positioning Priya in yab yum: she straddled him, his erect lingam entering her yoni gently. No thrusting stillness. "Feel the energy rise," he said, eyes locked on hers. Priya moaned, her nympho instincts kicking in, grinding slightly. But Baba held her hips. "No movement. This is Sahajyan natural bliss."
Arjun's emotions swirled: jealousy, arousal, catharsis.As they sat, breaths merging, Baba explained, "In technique 68, as mind quiets, atma reveals. Orgasm's peak dissolves ego."Priya's confessions echoed in Arjun's mind, fueling his pain. But watching, he felt a strange detachment. Baba chanted Baul songs softly: "Maner manush je re, kothay thakis tui..." (Where is the man of my heart?) code for inner divine.
Priya's body trembled, her busty form glistening with sweat. "I need more," she begged, true to her nympho nature. Baba allowed subtle movements, invoking Kundalini. Energy surged, Priya arched, crying out as waves built. At the brink, they froze, breaths held in kumbhaka. Orgasm hit like thunder: Priya's body convulsed, but Baba remained still, channeling ojas upward.In that moment, Priya shattered not just physically, but emotionally. "Forgive me" she sobbed post climax, collapsing. Arjun, witnessing the tantric power, felt his anger ebb, replaced by empowerment.
Baba disengaged gently, covering her. "This is ras sadhana's essence," he told Arjun. "Raja and veerya mix, creating char chand--four moons of bliss. But we transcend consumption here; it's union."
Over the next weeks, Arjun delved deeper into Vidya.Baba taught him Vigyan Bhairav's techniques: breath viram for daily meditation, sound vibrations controlled during arousal. Arjun practiced alone at first, mastering ujjayi pranayama to control ejaculation, turning lust into ojas.Priya, still under vashikaran, stayed. Her nympho tendencies were harnessed--Baba used her as a mudra partner for sadhana. One night, by the Ganges, Baba initiated Arjun into karma mudra. "Join us," he said.Priya, busty and eager, lay between them.Arjun hesitated, emotions raw betrayal fresh. But Baba guided: "Forgive through union."They formed a triangle: Arjun entering Priya from behind, Baba in front, all in stillness. Breaths synced, energies circulated. Priya moaned, her body a conduit: "I can't stop wanting... but this is different." As climax neared, they invoked technique 68, ego dissolution.Arjun felt Kundalini rise, a serpent uncoiling from muladhara to sahasrara.Stars exploded,time stopped. Post-orgasm, in shanti, Arjun cried releasing years of pain.Emotional layers peeled, Arjun confronted his inadequacy feelings, Priya her addiction's roots (childhood neglect fueling her cravings).Baba facilitated talks by fire, singing Duddu Shah's songs"Ras er khela je khela..." (The play of ras).
Priya confessed more: "My first affair was with a cousin at 18. I craved the forbidden. With Rehan, it was weekly threesomes sometimes. I even paid men online." Arjun's heart ached, but tantra taught detachment. "She's Shakti unbound," Baba said. "Tame her through sadhana."
Arjun's transformation accelerated. He learned Baul ras-sadhana: on amavasya, they performed full ritual. Priya's raja collected during flow, mixed with Arjun's sperm. They ingested symbolically tilak on foreheads. Energy surged.
Priya's nymphomania evolved: from destructive to sacred. "I feel whole," she admitted, busty form now a vessel for divine play.
Months passed. Arjun, now a adept, reversed the alimony case through tantric influence. Priya withdrew claims. But he chose freedom, leaving her redeemed yet separate.
By the Ganges, Arjun thanked Baba. "You saved me."
Baba smiled. "You saved yourself through Vidya."
Arjun wandered on, a tantric wanderer, his pain alchemized into power.
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