| Beitrag |
Back in his New Delhi hotel room, he truly felt exhausted. Too much information, too many hints to follow. Where should he go now? Where did the female Buddha hide? Was it here in India, in one of these notorious love temples? After reflection, he decided that a Buddha, female or not, would probably prefer solitude over the bustle of famous tourist sites. He decided that it was most likely that she has crossed the Himalaya, as Dr. Jain, the museum curator had speculated. Then where should he go? To Tibet? – no, too ascetic. To Beijing? Or even to Japan? It was impossible to decide without more knowledge about the female Buddha. As a professional in the study of arts, he finally settled on what seemed to be a logical course. Without doubt, the female Buddha, like other religious and cultural icons , was likely to have left traces in the art world, in the form of paintings, statues and other depictions. Then, were else could he go than to the Chinese National Museum in Taipei? That was the place where practically all valuable art produced in China over the last few thousand years was brought to by the Chinese nationalists under Chiang Kai-Shek immediately after the second world war. Insular Taiwan which provided safety from seizure and destruction by the advancing armies of the communist Mao.
He called his travel agent in Paris, where it was still day-time, and requested his agent to book a flight to Taipei the next morning. He checked his e-mail, there was a message from Vera. But as he did not know anybody by that name, he did not read the message, He was too tired. He slept without dream.
The next morning he flew to Taipei. After arrival he called his contact at the Chinese National Museum, a certain Mr. Zhu, a renowned expert on Chinese religious art. In the taxi to the museum, which is situated outside the city, he marveled at the skyline of the city. Looking more modern and futuristic that even New York or Shanghai. How it had changed since he visited here last time, more than 20 years ago.
He met Mr. Zhu, a man with a worldly aura, a mischievous smile, and a rather jovial attitude. The At Dealer felt comfortable with him quite immediately. Mr. Zhu readily agreed to talk about the female Buddha. In fact, his words were clear. It was not just knowledge, which he would convey to the Art Dealer, but a well kept ancient secret. The Art Dealer was excited. Of course he did not reveal to the curator what his special powers were, what had happened when he was left alone with art that showed the female essence. They chatted a while and then the curator offered to give the Art Dealer a tour through the museum. For an Art Dealer, that was not something to be refused, not at a museum as this one. They went through the vast collection of priceless cloisonne and porcelain, the vastest, the most astounding in the world. The curator brought him into a room, a large hall in fact, where the dinnerware of the ancient Chinese court was displayed. Over three thousand sets of Ming Dynasty porcelain dinner sets, laid out on numerous long tables, all from the same period. “This is how it was arranged, three hundred years ago, in the Great Hall of the Emperor’s palace,” Mr. Zhu explained, “when the emperor dined with his 3000 concubines, on the occasion of his birthday.”
And the curator continued, “Imagine, 3000 of the most beautiful women of the world, collected from every corner of the empire, brought as gifts by foreign envoys, all assembled, all eating from the most priceless dinnerware that the world knew then and now. It was then, at his birthday, that the emperor chose the 365 concubines who would share his nights for the next year, for his pleasures, intimate or pervert, and for the purpose of siring the next generations of emperor, princes and courtiers. And it was then that the emperor chose the concubine who would share his birthday night, the concubine of the year, chosen before all, for her beauty, her allure, her unspeakable skills that no doubt had been whispered to the emperor by the court eunuchs.”
The Art Dealer reflected on that sight. In his mind, he saw the beautiful concubines, wearing nothing but thin transparent veils and elaborate jewelry. He imagined that he was the emperor having the pleasure to choose from so much beauty and allure, and with the eunuchs’ information about which ones had those unspeakable skills of the night. He was powerless over his body reaction when a huge erection came to him.
Mr. Zhu shrugged, “Yes, it makes one think, I know”, as if he knew the Art Dealer’s thoughts and hardness. “I’ll show you things that are closer to the female Buddha than this incredible assembly of dinnerware”. The Art Dealer made a mental note – he thought it would be good to find one day a painting of a royal concubine, and visit the painting a night. Perhaps he could learn how a woman felt who was highly trained to be the emperor’s instrument of joy, yet would most likely never experience a man inside her, not to speak of ever carrying his seed. What a tragedy.
Mr. Zhu drew him out of his thoughts. “You must know that the knowledge of the female Buddha was nearly extinct in Eastern Asia by the time when Westernization took place”, he explained. “There is very little literature about the subject, and whatever we could find does not allow for definite conclusions”. In China, a certain sense of morality that downplayed natural sexuality precluded people from accepting the concept of a female supreme god. In India, on the other hand, a female goddess or half goddess became a vehicle for the people to express sexuality, sometimes to an extreme. Therefore you will not find images of female goddesses here. Yet, secretly, people do believe in the powers of the female Buddha. I can show you a collection of certain Chinese paintings, pictures of erotic scenes that were created many centuries ago. People will not admit knowing about such paintings, and here at the museum, we will not exhibit them, as we would be accused of immorality. However, Chinese people admire and treasure these painting secretly. And it is not unknown that wealthy citizens have hidden and still hide such paintings in their houses. They are revered as they stimulate sexual energy and it is not uncommon that books with copies of such images are put under the pillow of a bride to be, for her special education. It is said, and you will hear that often when you ask, that such paintings carry a certain power in them”.
The Art Dealer looked at Mr. Zhu somewhat doubtful. But the curator continued undisturbed. “Let’s go. I show you our collection of such paintings.” He led him downstairs, into the basement, where he unlooked a door with a high tech access control system. They entered. The room was dimly lit, no doubt to protect the ancient paintings from damage by intense light. The Art Dealer saw a large number of silk paintings hanging from walls. And he immediately thought he was in an orgy. Everywhere he saw females in various states of undress, females that offered themselves to men with huge erections. Everywhere there was penetration, often in most astounding positions. Paintings of male seeds that overflowed from female orifices, paintings with women embracing women, couples copulating with assistants helping in the process, females engaged in masturbatory pleasures using unusual toys, and so on. The Art Dealer was overwhelmed. He knew something about decadent sex orgies in Paris, but this was no comparison. In addition, this was ancient art. It had a profound effect on him and he could only hope that Mr. Zhu did not see what effect it had on the Art Dealer. We know that Art Dealer is quite sensitive to the images of nude women, but Mr. Zhu was not supposed to have such knowledge. However, Mr. Zhu smiled quite confidently. He must have surprised guests before with this imagery and he would know how men react to this.
“You see”, Mr. Zhu continued, “these paintings can have a powerful effect. That is why they are admired, even if only secretly. Many scholars have come to believe that the female Buddha has reincorporated herself in these paintings. A good way to persist through the flow of time. Just as the Greek gods in the West are still revered, so much in fact that space rockets are named ‘Apollo’ and girls are named ‘Artemis’ or “Diana’. You see, the gods on Mount Olympus have made sure that they will be known for eternity, together with all their deeds, sexual or not, good or bad, by inducing the Greek classical writers to write about them. It’s the same here, the female Buddha may have decided to reincarnate herself in the form of paintings that will survive in one form or another into eternity. Because humans will never cease to adore the source of real pleasure.” The Art Dealer nodded. He had not thought about this, but he had to admit, it made some sense.
But Mr. Zhu began again, “I told you I would show you a secret, perhaps it will convince you.” That said, he walked off to a wall cabinet, unlocked it and search for something on the many shelves inside the cabinet. Finally, he pulled out what looked like a print. It showed a nude woman, beautiful in her modesty. The title was in Chinese and the Art Dealer asked what it said. “It is entitled ‘the concubine Laoyuan combing her hair’.” Immediately the Art Dealer thought of the emperor’s concubines. “Is this a painting of a royal concubine?” “Certainly not”, Mr. Zhu replied, “it would have meant death for the painter if he painted a nude royal concubine. Besides, if you look carefully, it is Japanese. But to tell you the truth, we know little about this print and who it shows. Although it is Japanese, the original has been in Chinese possession for hundreds of years. This is a copy, the original is about 400 hundred years old and very precious because it is unique. Although I have not experienced it myself, it is said that it had very powerful effects on its previous owners.” After a pause, the curator added, “I think it is a representation of a female Buddha. I would like to entrust you with this copy. It may help you in your further search for the female Buddha. You are an Art Dealer and you need to make a living, I understand, but please do not attempt to sell this picture, even as it is only a copy. You may discover its power, and you would not want to part from it afterwards.” With that, he placed the print into a large art folder and handed it to the Art Dealer.
The Art Dealer was without words. He stammered and started to thank Mr. Zhu profusely. Secretly, he was thrilled, because the picture already had a certain effect on him, if nothing else this would make a wonderful addition to his collection of art in the back room of his gallery in Paris.
He realized that it was already late in the day. He thanked Mr. Zhu again for his hospitality. “Would you possibly be able to do me a favor and tell me how I could find a reasonable hotel? I came directly from the airport, so I’ll have to find a hotel now.” Mr. Zhu scribbled something in Chinese on his business card. He gave him the card and said, “Ask the taxi driver to bring you to the I Tsun hotel in Peitou. Peitou is a very nice village on the outskirts of Taipei, in the hills, looking somehow like old China. You may like it”. With that they shook hands, the Art Dealer thanked his host again and Mr. Zhu wished him well in his quests.
Outside the museum, the Art Dealer hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of the hotel.
“It is a thirty minute drive, Sir”, the driver replied. But that was fine with the Art Dealer.
“Not many people know about this hotel”, the driver tried to make conversation, “how do you know about it?”
“It has been recommended.”
“You must have very good friends, to reveal such a secret to you”.
Now the Art Dealer was curious: “what is special about this hotel?” he asked.
“I will not tell you because I have never been there, but I am told that it is very special by customers whom I drove back after their visit to the hotel. I think you will see for yourself.”
Finally, they arrived at a beautiful village in the mountains outside Taipei. Immediately the Art Dealer noticed the steam in the air, and the smell. It was a place with hot springs. Then the driver stopped in front of an inn, not really a hotel, more like a Japanese style ryokan, a traditional inn. It seemed intimate, and nobody was there on the outside. He checked in. The old lady who took care of his paperwork explained to him where the hot springs were and she showed him to his room. A very nice traditional Asian room with elegant but simple furnishings, a vase of flowers, and a marvellous bathroom. Interestingly, the tub in the bathroom was part of a small pond situated in the garden behind the glass wall of the bathroom. It was possible to move from the bathroom into the garden, in the water, from the tub that connected to the pond. It was the private garden for the room, and one could decide to take a bath in the pond in the garden or in the section which reached into the bathroom. The water seemed to be hot, the steam was rising from the pond. The lady asked if this was acceptable to him, and, of course, he replied that it was. Before she bowed deeply and left the room, she asked:
“Would you like pillow for the night?”
“Yes, certainly, but I will be going out for dinner”.
“No problem, I will deliver the pillow when you return from dinner.”
The Art Dealer thought that it was strange to ask such a question, but he quickly forgot about it. He was eager to a closer look to what the curator had given him. Before even starting to unpack his suitcase, he sat down and opened the folder. What he saw was a copy of a beautiful print by an unknown artist, produced almost 400 years ago. He was about ready to close the folder when he thought he saw the woman in the print smile at him. He looked again, and yes, she was smiling. He had not noticed this before. And now he heard her speak. But it was his desire that was playing a trick on him, he was sure of that. He tried to calm himself. But no question, the woman spoke. He heard it well, although she just whispered. “Do not forget to ask for a pillow tonight”, she said. Then she remained quiet and the smile fainted away. Still, now alert and expectant, he waited for her to move, After all, it was not the first time that a nude woman in a painting began to engage him. He was quite sure that she would move, perhaps even step out of the picture. He was ready for her, and he was shameless in letting her see his hard desire, exposed now that he had taken off his clothes for a bath. Bu nothing happened. After a while the Art Dealer calmed down and he softened again. He decided to soak in the hot water and then to go out to some local noodle shop to have a simple dinner. He had always loved the noodle shops on his visits to Asia.
After dinner, when he came back to the hotel, the same older lady greeted him. She had not forgotten about the pillow, she told him. She would bring it to his room in a few minutes. He went to his room, he checked again the print. But the Japanese woman remained motionless. Then there was a knock at the door. When he opened he door, it was the receptionist. She bowed and said that she would like to deliver the pillow now. “Please come in”, the Art Dealer said stepped back. But the older lady did not come in, and she did not carry a pillow, Instead, she suddenly vanished. But before the Art Dealer could say anything, the void in the door was filled by a very young woman. She was very beautiful, and incredibly she was entirely nude. And she was not carrying a pillow either. The Art Dealer gasped and did not know what to say. He motioned her in. The young woman stepped in and closed the door. Without a trace of inhibition, as if everything was totally normal, she announced matter-of-factly “I am Laoyuan, I am your pillow”. The Art Dealer was stunned.
He stammered. He really did not know what to say. He welcomed her but he was all nervous. He offered her a kimono but she declined. “I want you to remember me when you are old. I do not need any clothing. My beauty is my clothing”. She stepped up to him and kissed him very gently, but with the confidence of a lover. And her beautiful body touched his body firmly. She took his arms to wrap them around her. And he pressed her against his body. So unexpected, so delicious. His mind raced. Why did the curator recommend this hotel? Why did he give him that print of a nude concubine? Why was the name of the concubine Laoyuan, the same name this young woman in his arms claimed to have? Why had the receptionist mentioned the pillow? Why had the concubine in the print mentioned the pillow? It was mysterious, but it was real despite the inclination of the Art Dealer to believe that he was dreaming again. But there could be no mistake, the warm skin of Laoyuan’s body pressed against him as if she was his intimate lover who knew him well, who knew his secrets. The nipples of her breasts were hard and swollen, even the faintest touch of his body with her firm breasts caused a sensation of electricity. He thought that Mr. Zhu must have played a little prank on him, understanding how hungry a traveller could be for a woman’s special attention. It was clear that Mr. Zhu had liked the Art Dealer, otherwise he would not have given him the print. Or was Mr. Zhu sending him a message, a message about the female Buddha? He did not have time to think about it. Already, his body was burning with desire as he felt this woman so close to him. He knew that she could feel him too, in no uncertain ways. He made no attempt to hide this state of extreme excitement. She did not give him the impression that she was unfamiliar with his reaction. Already, Laoyuan started to unbutton his shirt. Swiftly, she took his tie off, and removed his belt. He let her undress him, he let her see his erection. He trembled and felt like he had never felt before.
Laoyuan extinguished all lights, now he could not see her anymore but he felt her warmth, she was close. She took his hand and guided him to the hot pool. She entered with him, and she started washing him. It felt so wonderful. She came very close to him while she worked to scrub him with a towel, on the back, everywhere. She had a natural ability to press against him no matter what she did. She did not speak, but she kissed him, on his lips, and elsewhere. He hungrily tried to kiss her back but she could evade him while at the same time impress herself on him in new ways. She disappeared in the pond but seconds later she would swim up to him again, under water, and she would caress him like a fish. Like a very exciting fish. The Art Dealer was completely inflamed. He wanted to catch this fish, he did not want a second to pass without him feeling her close to him. He wanted this fish to find his won enlarged and swollen fish, ready for her touch. He was addicted to her now, just minutes after he had met her. Somehow he understood deep inside him, that he had made this trip, because Venus wanted him to be here. So he let himself go, and he let himself overcome with the pleasure that Laoyuan gave him. Still playing the fish, she caressed him under water. She disappeared in the water just to swim up to him again, this time to swallow his erection. He lay in the pool, completely lost in sensation. He pushed his cock into her mouth and her lips engulfed it until she was suddenly gone again. Again and again, she excited him in these ways. And he could not catch her. His hands would touch her limbs, breasts, or hips, or any other part of her body, but like a fish, she would evade him.
He heard her leaving the water, and she lighted a candle. She came to offer him her hand and he stepped out of the pool. She did not dry him and she did not dry herself. Wet as they were she pulled him into the bed and then she pulled him into her. She knew that he would explode in her immediately and that is how it happened. After all these days of longing for a woman he could not and did not want to hold back. Laoyuan did not climax. Her body language, the way she held him while he shuddered made it clear to him that her message was that she was there for him to empty himself into her, While Laoyuan kept holding him tightly while he lay exhausted on top of her, she kept caressing him, gently first, but more insistently when her hands moved down to his buttocks. He knew she would not release him and suddenly it was not necessary for her to hold him, because he stiffened again inside her and his desire grew rapidly to pull her close so that he would be deep in her. Now Laoyuan’s body language sent another message – now she wanted her climax. Already she panted and moaned loudly and she responded to his thrusts with her own wild and hungry movements. She kissed him passionately and writhed under him while he caressed her face. She held on to him, not letting him pull out. She locked her legs around his back and kept pushing against him, wild with desire and heat. He felt his seed well up in his cock. Laoyuan must have felt it too because now she cried out loudly, in rhythm with his hard thrust that sent his semen deep into her. She convulsed and he shuddered and then they lay quietly, in each others arm.. They were heavy with sweat, they did not move from their tight embrace, and he could smell the product of love, now slowly dripping out of her. Still, they held each other and caressed. Laoyuan would not speak much. He assumed that she did not know English well. He caressed her and kissed her endlessly.
After some time she took him again to the pool. She washed him again, just as thoroughly, and she washed herself. Again she played the game of the fish. It did not take long for his cock to stir again, even if only tentatively now but sufficiently for the cock to become the fish’s target. But suddenly she stopped, took his hand and directed him to the shallow end of the pool. She motioned him to crouch down so that his body was underwater except for his head. She came close to him and reached underneath him. Suddenly he felt that she soaped his anus, and then her finger penetrated him. She was thoroughly cleaning his anus, with soap and her fingers. It felt strange but it felt good, like a very special form of caress. Nobody had ever done that to him. He did not know that he had such intense feelings there. He let her do, he enjoyed it until she guided him out of the pool again.
Now she told him to lie down on the bed, face down. She spread massage oil over his back and began to massage him. He wanted her to massage his buttocks but he did not dare telling her. But she must have understood, she started to massage him there. Soon she massaged him with her lips. He held his breath as her mouth was finding its way down between his buttocks. And soon she was massaging his anus with her tongue, Now he understood why she had cleaned him so well. She spread his buttocks and drilled her tongue deeper into him. He moaned loudly. He let her do it and he wanted more, he knew she had cleaned well. He was in heaven. He did not want her to stop. But she stopped and turned him around. She was not the innocent young woman whom he had met at the door. She now was a hungry woman knowing what she wanted. Her treatment had ensured that his cock was hard again, and she straddled him, impaling her body onto his sex. She rode him until she exploded again. He wanted her again, too, and he turned her on her back and thrusted his cock deep into her again and again. He pulled up her legs and held them against her breasts and he penetrated her maximally. In no time he shuddered and collapsed on her while his sperm was again shooting into her. Exhausted, he wanted to sleep. He kissed her gently and said good night. But it was not what she had in mind. She did let him lie down as he would go to sleep. She caressed him as he was settling on his side. She curled up near his stomach, and then she asked him timidly if she could keep his penis in her mouth while he slept. Although he had no sexual energy anymore, he told her that she could do what she desired. He drifted off to sleep, but he did not come to rest. His sex grew again, and he would feel more lust. Then he would drift off into sleep again, and his penis would go limp. However, again and again she revived him with her mouth. It was not possible to sleep, but it was possible to doze off and awake to the most amazing wonderful feelings. At some point, he remembered, he spilled more seed, this time into her hungry mouth. Finally he was able to sleep, He was just so happy that she would hold him in his sleep.
Later at night, Laoyuan got up to drink from the minibar. She came back to bed and snuggled against the Art Dealer. Her body was hot, she was still full of desire. The Art Dealer did not notice much when she used him for her pleasure. She managed to make him hard, she managed to make him penetrate her. And then her movements were enough to make her pant, squeeze him against herself even as he was half asleep, and she climaxed again.
They both slept for a while but Laoyuan soon stirred again. As the faintest light in the sky appeared, she again began to play with his soft manhood. She just knew what to do to bring him alive. She got him hard, and once more she brought him to another point of ecstasy. As if still needy, he pumped into her until he spilled his seed again, his last drop of semen. He knew that he would not see Laoyuan anymore. He was sad, he had become very attached to her gentle caresses, and her steamy lovemaking. He had become addicted to her, he would remember her for the rest of his life. One last time he held her in his arms, close to him, and now she did speak to him: “I am the woman who you saw in the Japanese print. Although I am not a female Buddha, I am the reincarnation of the woman who the artist depicted combing her hair, 380 years ago. I have desired a man ever since, ever since that artist painted me, thereby condemning me to be viewed from thereon, desired by men, men who desired me as a a picture an fantasy but not as a real woman, since I had dared to bare myself in front of all. These men, who would have rejected me in real life felt good by masturbating over my picture, or sometime worse. Always, I wanted to make love to a man. It was my dream, my desire, to be taken by a man. And to take a man. That artist did not take me as a lover when he painted me. I was an innocent girl then, despite being painted in the nude. He left me with unfulfilled desire, for all this time. I have waited so long, I have waited for you to fulfill my desire. I thank you from deep of my heart.” Then she got up, and without looking back she disappeared through the door, naked as she had come in.
The Art Dealer carefully closed the folder with Laoyuan’s picture. Had he dreamed? No, he felt how he was completely drained, and he saw the large spots of wetness on the bed sheet. He could smell the passion of the night. It was too real. He got up and dressed, called the taxi and then the curator to thank him. He did not tell him what had happened, He wanted to keep it to himself. But he understood why the curator for Buddhist Art had not elaborated further about female Buddhas and instead had given him a present and a hotel address. It was clear enough, this was the secret that the Mr. Zhu had promised to show him. Perhaps he had indeed met the female Buddha or a reincarnation of her, in the form of this lovely woman. Who could know! |
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