No female was there, – never had been there. Realizing the girl was but a vision projected into his mind from Gita, Hamar rallied and forced himself back up straight. He snorted away his own hot breath and shuffled to lean toward Gita, calm again, and made sure his tunic sat baggy across his squat as he placed a firm hand at each knee. He bent his head and shut his eyes to focus into the center of Gita’s skull as Gita again shut his own eyes.
Hamar concentrated his mental beam to become knife-thin, needle thin, into Gita’s brain, and began chanting under his breath the spells for deadening other people’s mind force. Gita bent his head in response and parried the thrust, beginning a hum that resonated up through his own chest and head. Their two forces met in the air between them. Horribly, Hamar felt sensation travel back along his line of concentration, and then it re-entered his body and plunged down to throb in his loins again, his whole focus locked on the excited sensations going on in them. He caved in and fell back trembling!
Gita breathed in deeply, then out, and again opened his eyes. “Hamar,” he said, chuckling, “it isn’t so much a question of controlling others but of controlling oneself. Hiding desire isn’t the same as mastering it. Power is in feelings, great power.” He leaned toward him, “But you must master them first in yourself if you are to direct them.” He adjusted his position and rotated his neck. “Shall we try again?”
For the next two hours Hamar was introduced to erotic passions arising in all parts of his being, – body, mind, soul. When he thought he’d gained resistance to the spread of one, Gita hit him with another from a different direction. Each impulse of desire, each physical dilation and sudden turgor, each livid fantasy and image and delighting, was of a different order and height, some slowly voluptuous, others suddenly stinging with an acute pump of lewdness. It was hard to manage the rapid changes, the hottest arousals taking away all constraints from his will, – each new level of passion took him higher than he could control. Gradually, gradually, with repetition he found within himself the quiet place for fighting the tide.
Back in his chambers that night he paced, restless with fiery desires worked up. This aftermath of turgor was something also to be controlled, sexuality a blimping thing that defied all restrictions and left a residue of feelings. Images came unbidden, lusty ones, but now he knew something of the combat of it. By morning his eyes had dark rings as he rose up with determination for the day’s second lesson.
He realized Gita could have taken him into any act once pleasure overran him, even the most perverse, as the luscious excitement of it smoothly cancelled out the wrongness. He bowed himself into war against the man!
Over the next days he learned to halt the first stir of tissues within his body. He instantly cancelled thoughts, however small, however mountainous, to make passion pause, or pushed his mind into florid imagery once more to make it burn at his command, making passion condense and shoot where he wanted it to go as if it were a trained animal. He entered into fasting from all feeling, denied himself every pleasurable sensation, endured ordeals to increase his sexual stamina so he could recircle the excitement to keep up tumescence endlessly all day and night, yet keep his mind and will separate and supreme. He learned to project his virility spearlike out of his eyes, re-direct it to come out of his fingertips, his members. These were arts devoid of chants or of other majicks, instead was the mastering of himself alone. His overall will intensified and his range of natural energies focused. The superior natural man in Hamar was coming to the fore.
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