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I'd spent several months touring Southeast Asia and had become fascinated by female monks. Buddha had taught that there were seven types of wives and four were destined for heaven. Of these 'good wives' the 'slave wives' stood out to me. Here's the wiki definition: The slave-wife (or "maid-wife") is patient, unangered, and submits to her husband even when he is mad. She obediently receives physical punishment whenever her husband so desires to deliver it, and is unquestionably submissive to him.

Having read this I found myself often fantasising about a Buddhist slave wife following my commands, tending to my needs and earning her path to the afterlife through subjection to my every sexual whim and desire. It was a turn on to think that she would have swallowed my cum and offered up all of her holes as a kind of religious observance. Her holy communion. Buddhism is a little more enlightened towards women than most ancient religions and becoming a monk is a fairly egalitarian thing.

There are male and female monks and each are subject to strict moral, ethical and spiritual observances. There are a lot more rules for female monks, though, so the fantasy that I kept coming back to sexually corrupting a female monk was about the least likely fantasy out there; to take a woman who has had her sexuality almost trained out of her and, firstly, get close enough to build some kind of chemistry and then, secondly, transform that potential energy into a sexual encounter with a virgin who had nude playboy devoted her life to ignoring the pleasure of the flesh.

It was as close to impossible as I could get. Acting out my fantasy consisted of trying (and failing) to catch and hold the eye of a Bhikkhuni to see if some hidden chemistry could be unlocked. They almost never looked up. When they did they sheepishly averted their eyes. At first I thought these were the coy ones but over time I realised they were the least likely corruptees. nude women pics In Thailand the Bhikkhuni wear pink robes and the majority I saw were much too young for my tastes. In Burma they were less prevalent but in Laos I stumbled across a place where women monks roam in larger numbers and appeared to me at least to be slightly freer to roam.

One day, after the usual failed attempts I sat on a wall after a strenuous climb up to a pagoda with many steps. On the way back down I'd caught something in the sole of my foot (you have to walk barefoot on pagodas) and I pulled out a fairly large thorn which left a small wound which started to bleed. I got out a kit I carried, cleaned the foot and stuck on a plaster. A Bhikkhuni I had passed on the way down and appeared to be in a rush was coming back down the steps.

I remembered her partly because she had been carrying a large red package up the pagoda steps, partly because she had been alone (the only one to date) and partly because she had been the only Bhikkhuni to offer a faint smile as we passed on the steps. Although new at the time I hadn't given that last detail much thought. As she approached the bottom of the steps I had that sixth sense of being watched.