Awakening of Yoni (Vulva) Pt. 03

Chapter 3: The Sacred Between Her Thighs

Recap of the story thus far

Anita goes to Shakti Ashram on Priti's recommendation and meets Rudra, a Tantrik master whose presence awakens something dormant in her.

On their first meeting, he softly questions her guilt about her body and wants, hence guiding her to the holy knowledge of "Yoni."

Anita feels her first awakening--a sense of aliveness she had long since forgotten about.

Coming out of the ashram, she experiences a restless desire, suggesting her path of self-discovery has just started.

Now next in story

The days passed, and Anita no longer entered the ashram as a visitor but rather as a member of the ashram.

She passed more rituals that, at the surface, looked bizarre, but once she had them, she could understand their value.

The Silken Blindfold Ceremony:

Sujata blinded her in a dark room rich with incense. "Your body speaks louder without sight," she remarked.

A hand brushed her back. One more followed her thigh. She had no idea who touched her; she knew it was gentle and aware. Touch became a reality in darkness.

The Offering of Sacred Oil

Rudra doused her with jasmine oil one morning.

Starting at her feet, his fingers crept slowly up her body--legs, tummy, breasts.

"Not a massage," he stated. "A remembering." When he got to her throat, she was shaking, not with desire but rather with awareness. Her skin had never been respected, not like that.

The Taste of Chanting

With a hushed voice, he started chanting old mantras. It vibrated all across her body. Her lips separated. Her thighs grew softer.

She groaned from the sound, not from contact. From being referred to as sacred. From being referred to as holy.

Anita was very much changed by the third ceremony.

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Today she arrived a bit early and at full of energy.

"Anita," he said softly.

His name in his mouth made her entire body tense.

He looked beyond everything, removing the years of duties, guilt, and stillness she had wrapped around.

"Shall we move on? "

She shook but agreed, but was unclear on what was expected.

Rudra's voice grounded and calmed her. "Sit," he said with a firm yet supportive tone.

"Close your eyes. Breathe the calm all around you."

Anita dutifully sat onto the mat, her dress clung to the shape of her hips and her thighs pressed together.

Her heart thumping fast.

Then, breaking the stillness, with deep, voice Rudra asked, "Whose body is this?"

Anita's eyes sprung open in astonishment and then fluttered closed once again. Initially, her lips opened, but no sound came.

Finally, trembling with uncertainty, she murmured, "Mine,"

Rudra inched closer; even without touch, his presence's warmth was obvious.

"Is it truly yours? Is it your child's milk? Is it your family's dignity instead? Your husband's pleasure?"

His remarks sliced like a scalpel into old, hidden wounds.

She shrank, briefly withdrawing within. Rudra's voice was suddenly strong but gentle.

"Many women live as though their bodies belong to others. Anita, you were first born for yourself. This body is your first"

Her breathing became faster and caught in her throat.

"Anita, you deserve that touch on your body more than anyone else. Touch yourself as if you are touching your body for the first time."

"Touching out of guilt or haste should be better avoided. Take your time, please. Enjoy every second."

His words immobilised her body and sparked a strong desire within her. She had never been allowed to touch herself like this; she had never let herself experience the rawness of her own body free of guilt.

But now, with him, everything feels nearly sacred. Her fingers raced down the slope of her neck to the smooth chest skin, increasing her pulse.

The fire within her rising, slowly gathering between her legs.

Rudra continued, his deep humming voice filling the room with the weight of his remarks, "Anita, your body knows more than you give it credit for. You have been ignoring it for far too long. Let her talk."

Her fingers moved over the silky flesh of her arms, the tiny curve of her waist, the fabric of her garments concealing the rise of her breasts.

Rudra's voice was a soft command: "Your dupatta should now go. Let it drop. Gradually."

Anita gasped when she took the dupatta from her shoulders.

The fabric slid over her skin like a lover's caress. Every fiber touched her body; every inch of her skin was immediately exposed to the chilly air.

Rudra's eyes sparkled; his speech was a gentle murmur.

"I now want you to feel the space between your flesh and fabric. Feel the freedom of being exposed."

Running her fingers over the bare flesh of her shoulders, she felt the chill and the growing desire.

The change was astounding; the feeling of her body under her hands was exciting and frightening.

She locked her eyes with his, almost daring him to see her change.

Rudra inched closer; his presence was nearly too much. Low and forceful, he said, "Can you feel the weight of your breasts?"

Anita's breath caught in her throat; her fingers were reluctant at first but then drawn to the gentle rise of her chest.

She felt the heat under her hands as she slowly stroked the delicate curve as though following an invisible beat.

"Not to arouse someone else but to awaken yourself," Rudra said softly, his voice heavy with significance.

The words sent off some electrical waves inside her. She sensed the heat in her veins, the tug in her stomach.

Crawling slowly and carefully over her skin, her hands probed with a strange intimacy.

Her heartbeat and body warmed under her touch, and for the first time, she understood she was doing this only for herself.

"Do you feel your Yoni coming to life?"

Anita gasped.

The word hit something profound. She had never uttered it out loud, never dared see it as holy.

Rudra put a hand-carved mirror in her hands.

He said gently, "You will meet her today."

Anita opened her eyes.

"What do you mean!"

"Your Yoni," he said, his voice respectful.

She stopped moving. Her uneasiness with Rudra's presence for such an intimate moment was evident.

"Will you be present in the room then?" she said in a low voice.

"I will be present. I shall be here. But don't worry I will not look. This is between you and her."

Anita put the mirror between her thighs, her hands shaking. Her legs separated. She had never felt so exposed--and never so correct.

She gazed. Then there she was. Her Yoni. Visible, open, genuine, not concealed or blurred in shame or legend. Petal-like folds.

A pink blush. It wasn't ugly as she was made to believe since childhood.

It didn't make me feel guilty.

She is... Anita's voice broke. Her beauty.

Rudra grinned gently. "She is strength. She is flame. She is you."

Tears dropped. Her body trembled, not in shiver but in awareness.

Anita raised her gaze, eyes looking for Rudra's.

"Will you... will you look at her? Only once?"

She found herself surprised as she was asking a stranger to look at such a private part, which was only for her husband.

He was looking at her. "Should you ask, I will."

She agreed. Rudra moved onward. Once he looked deep and spoke with the calm weight of reality: "She is as perfect as you are."

Anita saw him bow his head at her yoni.

As her yoni was overflowing with moist, he moved his finger inside to soak the moisture and moved at his forehead as if applying a tilak.

Rudra stated, "Every Navratri's first day one married woman is selected to get the privilege of the Yoni Puja. A group of tantriks reciting holy shlokas revere and beautify her yoni. Rare blessing, set out for the really lucky. Should you be ready to attempt, I think you could deserve it.

Anita gasped. That one glance revealed her as herself, not as a wife, mother, or someone else fulfilling a function. All. Sacred. A man not with lust but respect had seen her Yoni. Yogesh, her husband, had never seen her like this. Still, she had no guilt. Just freedom.