Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
He was adamant.
His father and grandfather both were Brahmarshis in HVSI.
Kaikasī Chaturvedī was smart enough to understand her eldest son’s mood perfectly.
She masterminded her entire planning keeping his every potential step carefully in consideration.*
When Muħammad got engaged, it was a bit of a relief for me. Muħammad had been miserable for years after Muħammad’s wife had deserted him for me, three weeks before his Sixty Sixth birthday.
Now he seemed to be back to a vague semblance of his former self.
I was glad.
My friend, Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah, had been through a lot.
It was more troublesome for me, because his wife had deserted Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah for me.
“I’m very sorry, Muħammad,” I said sincerely, “I never thought she was interested in me sexually.”
Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah laughed.
“Infinite BrāhmKalp has come. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan says there were only two couples in BrāhmKalp, Brāhmañ Muslimāt and Bachhalyā Brahmkanyās Bachhalyā Brahmāñīs. I think my wife was afraid of herself that Niranjan could not win her from me. She preferred you on Niranjan.”
“Niranjan Sharmā.” Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah said, “You know. He is Waħīdah’s Kħālāzād cousin.”
Al Muħammad Al Åbdullah sighed.
“Niranjan Sharmā is close enough to Bhārgav
I had, of course, met Muħammad’s fiancée a few times when she’d stayed at our house, but after a while, Muħammad asked me if I’d be all right if Zakiyah moved in with us.
There was concern on Muħammad’s face, but it was unnecessary.
I was a quietly confident ever young man, who was simply happy for Muħammad to have found someone.
But when Muħammad came to pick him up from HVSI, I did not expect to find what I did.
When I climbed up into the back of the four-by-four, there was a dazzlingly attractive slim Musalmān redhead sitting inside, smiling at me. She was about twenty eight years old, dressed in a disturbingly low-cut turquoise top and green miniskirt.
Her legs were covered in nylons.
“Hi Durgesh,” said Muħammad.
“Durgesh,” Zakiyah smiled at me, “this is my daughter, Al Jalal Al Fātimah.”
“Hi,” Al Jalal Al Fātimah had an amazing smile.
She gently shook my hand and I couldn’t help but smile seductively.
I was completely amused to female company – especially such beautiful Musalmān female company.
Musalmān females were my specialty.
Even the BrāhmKalp could not take beautiful Musalmān houseladies away from me.
Yet, I was an exception.
Waħīdah preferred me on Niranjan Sharmā.
Waħīdah loved Durgesh.
Niranjan Sharmā was surprised.
“I don’t think so, Niranjan Sharmā.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s normal.” Niranjan Sharmā interrupted Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav, “In BrāhmKalp every Brāhmañ girl is a Brāhmañ’s sister according to Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā. She is not marriageable with a Brāhmañ. The Brāhmañs are required to marry Muslimāt and Muslimāt only to devote themselves to religious severities for their entire life.”
“I wanted to remind you it.”
His tone was somewhat curt to Niranjan Sharmā.
Niranjan Sharmā looked at him helplessly.
“Nevertheless, the Ārsh Sadan of HVSI is supporting Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, not Durgesh.”
The phone rang and she reached over to answer it.
“I was just…” she paused and looked at the TV, “…working on something.”
“It’ll only take a few minutes, I forgot a file I kinda need for work. Can you go on my computer and email it to me. It’s -”
“Now, now, I’m not going to remember. Just gimmie a second and I’ll go to your room and pick up the phone there, ok?”
Sītā Bhārgav made her way to the second floor of the big house she shared with me and her father Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav.
Sītā Bhārgav turned on my computer and picked up the phone in my room.
I was giving her instructions but we were having trouble communicating.
“And you searched for the filename? You’re sure you spelt it correctly…”
“Hmmm…” I muttered. “I guess I don’t absolutely have to have it…um…oh, Damn it! Of course!”
“Oh…oh geez, sorry Sītā dear.”
“Sorry about it. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
I laughed too.
“Three in one?”
“All in one, you Anant Brahmkanyā Ramañ, Anant Brahmāñī Ramañ.”
“Yeah, it’s just that I totally forgot something. Here’s what you need to do…” I explained to my Bhārgav Brāhmañ beloved of thirty years how to unlock the hidden and encrypted files on my computer using a password.
She sent off the email.
I confirmed I received it.
She hung up the phone and let me get back to work.
She hesitated for a moment.
What was there to go to except boring TV or a stack of books she didn’t really want to read, or a bed where sleep lately was elusive?
Didn’t she see something interesting a moment ago?
She opened up the list of files again.
Sure enough, there was the previously-hidden ‘Work Stuff’ folder they struggled so long to find.
And beside it some other uninteresting hidden folders were now revealed, like ‘HVSI Reports’ and ‘Bank Files’.
‘Pr0n Flicks’ and ‘Pics of Slutz’ and ‘XXX Stories’.
‘No,’ she thought, ‘they can’t be. Well…well, maybe he’s just got one or two things on here…I’m sure there’s a lot of peer pressure to know a bit about that sort of thing…’
She opened up ‘Pr0n Flicks’.
The list of files was so long it scrolled down past the bottom of the screen; titles like ‘Anal Trainer’ and ‘Ass Worship’ and ‘Buttman’s Big Butt Backdoor Babes’.
She double-clicked on a file and the starting credits began to play, a rapid-fire sequence of tits and ass and cocksucking and fucking and pussy eating and assfucking and double-penetration and cum splashing everywhere and and and…
She clicked it closed.
She went to the ‘Pics of Slutz’ folder.
As with the other folder, along with the main list of files there were subdirectories.
The one right at the top was named ‘AAAAA HOT DAMN IT – THE BEST – WHACKOFF SLIDESHOW’.
Here she found explicit, hardcore digital images.
Her Bachhalyā lover, Durgesh, had pictures of beautiful Musalmān houseladies, Christian houseladies, Jew houseladies and Brāhmañ houseladies even, in leather, in rubber, in lace, in chains, and of course in nothing at all.
“I would have never of suspected,” she said to herself, “I would have never have known.” Then she gave a little smirk. “No wonder he likes computers so much.”
Among the folders I made were ‘Anal Fuckfests’, ‘Mind Control’ and ‘Ashvinātam is Best’.
She knew about computers herself.
Who doesn’t in this immensely advanced Infinite BrāhmKalp?
Of course it was a long username.
It wasn’t possible even.
Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā was the paramount constitution here.
It was legally a tremendously punishable crime and morally an immensely despised great sin.
“Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu didn’t go through immense religious severities to marry Bhārgavīs with Bachhalyās.” Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav said furiously, “Bhārgavīs deserve Durgesh himself, no other Bachhalyā even.”
Vibhīshañ Bhārgav had argued,
“There were no Bachhalyās then anywhere when Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu had gone through immense religious severities to get infinite extremely beautiful daughters. Durgesh was the only husband available to them. Hence it’s a wrong argument that Param Brahmarshi Lord Bhagvān Bhr’gu didn’t go through immense religious severities to marry Bhārgavīs with Bachhalyās. He himself prepared Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, ‘Bhr’gu Shāstr Samvidhān’, constituting Brahmkanyās to marry with the Bachhalyās. There isn’t any exception for Bhārgavīs in Bhr’gu Āchār Samhitā, Bhr’gu Shāstr Samvidhān, that Bhārgavīs have exclusive rights on the rest of the Brahmkanyās to be Brahm Jagdambās everyone.”
Vibhīshañ Bhārgav was defeated tremendously.
Nevertheless, she was jealous of beautiful Musalmān houseladies now immensely.
Bhārgavīs were no exception.
She’d gone through much of the rest of my room, and found more things to pique her interest.
In the corners of my closet and in the backs of drawers she’d found recordable CD’s with suggestive labels, porn tapes and DVD’s, and stacks of magazines.
As she listened to me move around in another part of the house, Dr. Sītā Bhārgav was in her bedroom behind a closed door, kneeling over on her bed and flipping through a magazine, ‘Ass-Fuckers Vol.5 No.2’, which she was sure I wouldn’t miss from my large stack.
One of her hands was between her legs rubbing her pussy, and occasionally her fingers would reach farther, to rub the sensitive crinkle of her asshole, which would make her whole body shudder.
She was always very conservative, wearing perfect business attire; usually pantsuits that always left as little visible as possible of her neck, arms, and legs.
Her hair was always tied up in a bun or back in a tight ponytail, and her shoes were always sensible.
Not that this was foremost in my mind when I saw her, but it was the way she had always dressed since I had remembered, even back before her and her husband had split up.
It was as though Dr. Sītā Bhārgav were another species from the females I saw at HVSI, on TV, or in the pornography I consumed, the ones so willing to flaunt themselves and their sexuality just to get attention.
I grunted, and out of the corner of my eye saw her hauling some bags up to her room.
I didn’t glance over for a while, but when I did I was shocked and couldn’t break my stare.
I always thought Sītā Bhārgav had a classical face; fine lines and delicate features, a little reminiscent of the Mona Lisa, or of Greek and Roman sculptures I’d seen. She’d always worn big, practical glasses, her new pairs just like her old ones, but now for the first time I saw her wearing a sleek pair with tortoise-shell rims, that reminded me of cat’s eyes.
Her hair was sandy-brown, and at the top of her head it fell straight, but then began to curl at the level of her eyes.
She wore it untied now, and it fell around her shoulders.
Her excellent exquisite thirty years old Bhārgav Brāhmañ body, with exceptions, was slim; especially her crane-like neck, her delicate wrists, and her ankles where the contours of bone showed clearly.
But nature had also designed her body so that her breasts were large and full, and were supported by strong shoulders, and her hips and ass were big and full as well, supported by thick muscular smooth bhbr thighs.
Every daughter of Bhārgav Chakrvartī Dashānan Bhārgav was a specimen of exquisite excellent Bhārgav Brāhmañ beauty.
Now, she wore a flimsy wool cardigan, rose pink, with a knit loose enough to clearly show the bra underneath, and a plunging open neck that showed off much of her shoulders and the cleavage of her upper chest.
A cream-colored skirt stopped just above her knees, but had a slit up the side where I could see the top of a smoky brown stocking.
Her feet rested in shoes with a medium heel.
“Wow,” I said as I walked into her room, and then paused, searching for any other words. “Um…are we having company over or something?”
“Oh geez, I feel kinda out of it then.” I looked down to my white socks, jeans, and rock-band T-shirt. “Do you want me to change?”
Dr. Sītā Bhārgav turned away to continue her work, and I felt my ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund involuntarily pulse and twitch against the fly of my jeans.
Dinner proceeded somewhat normally, though my eyes would often wander to Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s chest, trying to make out the details of her bra, and picture how her chest would look without the cardigan draped over it.
I’d snap my head away when I became conscious of my thoughts, but then my eyes would also sometimes drift to look down through the glass table in the kitchen, looking down at Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s legs and the way she held one sleek leg against the other, and something inside of me flamed up when Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s stockinged legs would rub together as she subtly shifted position.
I was looking out the window at the backyard when hands reached under my arms and wrapped themselves around my chest.
“Yow! Hey Sītā, you scared me!”
“I just wanted to say thanks for being kind to me.” She gave me a long hard squeeze. “I’m so lucky to have such a good husband.”
She placed a kiss on the back of my neck.
We were both quiet.
Each one burned on my neck like a gunshot.
Palm flat on my chest, one of her hands began to work its way down over my stomach.
My heart hammered as I realized her hand, if it continued, would discover my pulsing ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund.
I slammed my hips against the counter, crouching down a little so the bulge of my crotch was hidden from view.
She gave a disappointed sigh.
“So,” she said softly, into my ear, “what’re you doing afterwards?”
“Um…I gotta.. go to work, Sītā,” I smilrd, and glanced at the clock.
Long after she had gone, my body missed her warmth pressing against my back.
When I got home late in the evening and turned on my computer monitor, there was a full-screen picture I was sure I had not left there.
A naked young woman, nasty lustful passion on her face, had my large ceaselessly unyielding, ever impulsive, sixty-Six years old, ultimate skilled, matchless, extreme manifest Bachhalyā Lund buried deep in her Bhārgav Brāhmañ ass.
The woman whose picture was there was Dr. Sītā Bhārgav’s younger, twenty eight years old sister, Ramā Bhārgav.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
Gotrbhid Mahā Bhārat
Shūdrasý tu Savarñaiv Nānyā Bhāryā vidhīyaté
‘Jāti Pānti Poochhé Nahin Koī,
Hari ko bhajé so Hari kā Hoī’
1/18: Ādi Parv
Nafīsah Salmān walked, on her knees and elbows, down the sparkling corridor of the Hotel Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī.
I was on her gorgeous behind, as usual.
My Uncut Hindu Prick was penetrating her ever tight Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Cunt sophisticatedly.
She found the door of room number 787, knocked once, waited three seconds, knocked twice, waited three more seconds, then knocked three times.
There was a moment of silence.
Then Nafīsah Salmān heard the sound of steps in the room.
A key twisted in the lock and the door opened slightly.
A safety chain, designed to keep the door from being pushed open, held the opening to a narrow crack.
A pair of green feminine eyes surveyed Nafīsah Salmān.
Then, silently a feminine hand moved up to release the safety chain and the door opened.
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit nodded but both of them were careful not to exchange the word of greeting until after Nafīsah Salmān and I were physically in the room.
The door was closed equally silently and locked.
Nafīsah Salmān smiled at Brahm Mahimā Sharmā.
Every one there was nude.
I was fucking Brahm Mahimā Sharmā on the bed.
Her extremely beautiful Sharmā Brāhmañ legs were on my nude Bachhalyā shoulders and she was enjoying my Bachhalyā Lund proudly now into her Sharmā Brāhmañ Cunt, playing simultaneously with her extremely beautiful Sharmā Brāhmañ buttocks too.*
Prabhā Shuklā put safety chain into place and turned to Nafīsah Salmān.
“How are you, Buā Ammī? I didn’t know you were coming up.”
Umā Dīxit nodded in agreement with her ever best friend, Prabhā Shuklā.
However, neither Prabhā Shuklā was ashamed of what she did to her immensely ethical, immensely moral, Sharmā Brāhmañ Bhābhī, Brahm Mahimā Sharmā, nor her ever best friend Umā Dīxit.
They were happy instead that they successfully made their Sharmā Brāhmañ Bhābhī fuck Durgesh.
Padminī Bhārgav wanted it done by hook or crook.
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit did successfully what Padminī Bhārgav wanted them to do, irrespective of the fact what Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl had to face due to it.
“Don’t worry,” Padminī Bhārgav shoved her extremely stunning, extremely amazing, gorgeous Bhārgav Brāhmañ buttocks into my nude male Bachhalyā lap, swallowed my entire Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund into her ever tight Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt, squeezed her Bhārgav Brāhmañ vaginal muscles around the entire length and thickness of my Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund and smiled cunningly, “you both are selected for my Brahm Padminī Squad. You both are Brahm Padminīs, no doubt. But you have to complete your assignments too if you really want to remain in my Brahm Padminī Squad.”
Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit looked at each other and promised to complete the assignments allotted to them.
One of their assignments was to put their Bhābhī, Brahm Mahimā Sharmā for ever into my nude male Bachhalyā lap.
“Ghazālah Siddīqī would replace Brahm Mahimā Sharmā in your brother’s, Dr. Rām Chandr Shukl’s life.” Padminī Bhārgav announced, “We need your Brahm Mahimā Sharmā Bhābhī in our Brahm Padminī Squad too.”*
Nafīsah Salmān watched both the Brahm Padminīs, Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit.
They both were the exquisite example of Brāhmañ Beauties.
But Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan said,
“Their Ammīs are Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Beauties, Ammī. Aren’t they? In fact, according to Hindu History itself, Ummil Åālmīn Hazrat Allāh Rabbil Åālmīn is the ever first Ummil Åālmīn. The entire infinite Brahm Jagdambās are even the especially projected bodies of the original Musalmān Ummahāt Al Åālmīn.”
Nafīsah Salmān looked helplessly at her ever ambitious daughter.
She was adamant to establish Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah.
‘Every Muslimah is for a Hindu male at least, none else can even dream of her, let alone touch her.’ Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say proudly.
“The Musalmīn are being cuckolded to their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives and Durgesh/their Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān wives’ Hindu lover(s), because only Hindu males are made for Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever sacred Musalmān women, not the Pseudo Musalmīn. Islam does mean peace and no Pseudo Musalmān is ever peaceful. They are either terrorists, or criminals, criminal minded at least. How the bastards deserve a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ever sacred Musalmān wife ever? Are you crazy?”
Nafīsah Salmān couldn’t answer her daughter.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan never let her.
“I never imagined you were so selfish, Ammī.” Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan used to say contemptuously, “You want the Ever Best Hindu Husband for yourself, but not even a traditional Hindu husband for other more ever suffering Muslimahs. It’s a shame to be unable to forget that you are my Ammī.”
“Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan,” Nafīsah Salmān too said contemptuously, “Padminī Bhārgav claims only a Bachhalyā Penis when enters a Brāhmañ Vagina can provide Shaktipāt to a Brāhmañ woman, none else. She has invented Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement for it, a never ending Bachhalyā BrahmKanyā Bachhalyā Brahmāñī time cycle. Aren’t you doing the same thing proposing Ashvinātam Ummat-e-Muslimah?”
“I thought I’d look the setup over,” Nafīsah Salmān said to Prabhā Shuklā and Umā Dīxit, “How are things doing?”
“They are making almost every Brāhmañ Beauty a Brahm Jagdambā now.” Prabhā Shuklā said smiling cunningly, “You are right, Buā Ammī. It’s not a part of Infinite BrāhmKalp Movement even. It’s not even a part of Brahm Padminī Squad. It’s actually a part of Brahm Jagdambā Movement. Padminī Bhārgav Dīdī is not making a Brahm Padminī Squad. She is making every Brāhmañ Beauty a Brahm Jagdambā under the disguise of her Brahm Padminī Squad. Why the hell otherwise she assigned both of us to make Brahm Mahimā Sharmā Bhābhī our co wife?”
Nafīsah Salmān controlled herself.
She tried her best not to lose her patience.
It was not a news to her.
Umā Jagdambā Pārvatī Chakrvartī had already warned her.
“Padminī Bhārgav is not after Brahm Padminī Squad, she is actually after a Brahm Padminī Brahm Jagdambā Squad to face Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s Seven Movements that are preparing Musalmān Ummahāt Al Åālmīn Squad actually, either this way or that way. Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is an ever shrewdest ever smooth politician now, but so is Padminī Bhārgav too.”
“Can’t you control Padminī Bhārgav, Umā, my child?” Nafīsah Salmān asked anxiously.
“I’m trying my best, Buā Ammī. But how the hell can we blame Padminī Bhārgav for it? Isn’t Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan doing the same thing under this disguise or that?”*
Late one evening, around 1:30 AM, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā finished watching a series of DVDs they had rented.
They were both barely awake as the final movie was ending, when suddenly they heard a knock on the sliding glass doors leading from their bedroom to the back yard.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Pragyā Agnihotrī, instantly panicked and rolled off onto the floor in just her panties, dragging the bedspread with her to cover her breasts.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā rolled in the opposite direction and grabbed his pepper spray from the night stand on his side of the bed.
As Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā crept towards the door, he saw a silhouette of whom he was pretty sure was Durgesh, I.
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā barely plucked the blinds back and sure enough he gave me a silly wave and smiled.
Pragyā Agnihotrī and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā knew I had a big date this very evening, but wondered why at 2 AM I would be knocking on their door.
As Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā slid the door open, I immediately began to apologize saying,
“I’m so sorry to bug you, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, but I saw your lights on and, well, I’m locked out next door.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā immediately told me to come in, and I glanced to his right seeing Prgyā Agnihotrī getting up off the floor with the bedspread tightly clutched to her chest.
I again began to apologize for the intrusion.
Pragyā Agnihotrī began asking a flurry of questions,
“Why would they lock you out? Don’t you have a key? I thought you had a big date tonight? How’d that go?”
Being very comfortable with Pragyā Agnihotrī and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā I explained,
“They locked me out because they are assholes. As far as my date, it went just like all the other great dates I’ve had recently… I heavily get laid every time.”
Pragyā Agnihotrī chuckled and said,
“If you keep getting laid on every first date, you’re setting yourself up for almost a male prostitute, instead of a Sex Therapist, don’tcha think?”
I smiled and replied,
“Well yes, but damn it, I’m 64 years old and have had sex infinite times in my life; and countless of those were with the new chicks usually, who insisted that I never wear a condom, but that I take it very slow so as not to break their female sexual organs. Then when I finished, I was to be ultra careful not to even take my Uncut Hindu Penis off unless I was five hours more inside her because
she said she can’t afford to lose me… Now, doesn’t that sound like a wild and satisfying sex life to you?”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā’s wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, and Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā looked at each other and grinned as if to say,
“That was a little more information than we expected.”
Prgyā Agnihotrī jokingly said,
“Come here; at least I can give you a hug on that, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, I’m sorry. Please allow me.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā was dumbfounded.
Hey Bhagwān, God, his own 39 years old extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, hugging Durgesh, the Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā?
Does her Brahmāñī instinct is longing for Durgesh’s Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund?
Padminī Bhārgav has already asked him for his extremely beautiful Brāhmañ wife.
“You must think of entire great Brāhmañ community, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā. You are already fifty. What the hell you need Pragyā Agnihotrī for, now?”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā was dumbfounded.
“Your Excellency, it’s a matter of my self pride, my honor…”
“Oh, come on,” Padminī Bhārgav said irritated, “Your wife, Pragyā Agnihotrī, is a Brahm Padminī. We need Brahm Padminīs for our Brahm Padminī Squad. You can marry someone else who isn’t herself a Brahm Padminī.”
Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā said bitterly.
“So, my younger brother, Shiv Shankar Sharmā, was true? You are making the entire Brahm Padminīs Durgesh’s Brahm Padminī wives forever whether they themselves want it or not? Whether their duly married Brāhmañ husbands want them to sacrifice for your cause, or not? Is it a Democracy? ”*
For the past fifteen minutes it had been apparent that Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, was marking time skilfully.
She was shoving her nude exquisite Trivédī Brāhmañ buttocks into my nude Bachhalyā male lap, swallowing every time my ever strong, Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund into her Trivédī Brāhmañ Choot.
I was fucking Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, because I had to, to follow the manners of Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations.
Vibhā Trivédī fumbled through papers, asked repetitious questions, and from time to time surreptitiously glanced at the clock on the wall of the courtroom.
Abruptly she straightened, constricted her Trivédī Brāhmañ vaginal muscles around my incredibly hard Bachhalyā Lund, and announced cheerfully.
Her vaginal muscles squeezed my Bachhalyā Lund beyond normalcy.
I gritted through my teeth,
“Sālī, Trivédī Brāhmañ Bitch!”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, smiled cunningly.
“Bachhalyā Piyā, this isn’t Ved Nagar. This is Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations. Your Musalmān Phuljađī Barristers can’t help you here.”
I grabbed her waist, pulled my Bachhalyā Lund until only its head remained in her Trivédī Brāhmañ Choot, and then shoved it back with my full Bachhalyā manly vigor.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, jumped to bear the thrust, but I grabbed her waist again pulling her extremely gorgeous Brāhmañ bottom into my nude Bachhalyā male lap again.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, squeezed her lower lip by her upper dental line, to control the involuntary scream ready to emit from her mouth.
It wasn’t good to her reputation to let it emit.
I realized the trap into which Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, had led me.
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, cooed with every politeness and every official courtesy,
“You may cross-examine, Bachhalyā Piyā.”
“If the court please,” I said affably, “it is twenty minutes to five on a Friday afternoon.”
“What of it, BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ?” Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, asked in his most respectful manner.
“It’s obvious to the Court too, your honor,” I said politely, fucking Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, savagely, “that the Court might not care to interrupt my cross examination of this witness with an adjournment. My cross-examination will, I feel, be rather protracted, rather prolonged. It’s thoroughly necessary in the interest of justice to my already extremely harassed client, my cross-examination should not be interrupted.”
“I object your honor,” Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, cooed, “to the phrase ‘already extremely harassed client’. Every defendant feels that way. It doesn’t mean…”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, raised his hand,
“The objection is sustained, Ms. District Attorney. You don’t need to argue further.”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, brought her right hand back, between her thighs, and squeezed my Bachhalyā balls playfully,
“Thank you, your honor.”
I enjoyed Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney’s gorgeous nude perky, heavy, big Brāhmañ buttocks being shoved to my nude male Bachhalyā lap repetitively, fucked her optimum, and played with her big Trivédī tits,
“May I be heard your honor?”
Judge Vishwambhar Sharmā, one of the elder brothers of Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā, looked at me gravely.
“BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ, you were requested by Rāj Kumārī Doctor Brahm Sītā Sharmā, the President of Sharmā Brāhmañ Creations herself not to defend the defendant, Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā. But you regretted her request, despite the fact that Madam President is your duly married wife too.”
“The defendant Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā has refused to sacrifice his Brahm Padminī wife, Prgyā Agnihotrī, for the cause of Brāhmañ community. It’s his fundamental human right.”
Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, smiled.
“It’s not the case at all, your honor. Moreover, the fundamental human rights differ widely from creations to creations, galaxies to galaxies, solar systems to solar systems, planets to planets and countries to countries. I myself was married to the President of Trivédī Brāhmañ Creations. But as soon as the United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations passed the resolution that in the interests of the people of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations it would not be benevolent to make Brahm Padminīs available to anyone else except BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ, my ever faithful Trivédī Brāhmañ husband immediately sacrificed me to now my Bachhalyā Piyā. Why couldn’t Pandit Bhawānī Shankar Sharmā himself sacrifice his Brahm Padminī wife to BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ? He is already fifty. What the hell can he get from his Brahm Padminī wife any more?”
“It’s his fundamental human right.” I said gravely.
“Not here. Not in the United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations anywhere. No Brahm Padminī is available now here, in the entire United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, to anyone except to you, Durgesh, BrahmKanyā- Brahmāñī Ramañ.” Vibhā Trivédī, the District Attorney, shouted angrily, “We need our every Brahm Padminī, every one, without even a single exception to meet a greater celestial catastrophe. We can’t spare even a single one. It’s not a verdict that was taken defeating the opposition. It was an unanimous decision of the Inter Creations Parliament of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations. Every person that opposes it is a traitor, I say.”*
Padminī Bhārgav witnessed it all on Hyper 3D.
Vibhā Trivédī was her proud selection in Brahm Padminīs.
She really had brains too.
Padminī Bhārgav was not a damn fool to waste such a great Brahm Padminī talent.
Both Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī looked at each other.
Then both of them looked at Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār simultaneously.
“Now, we are alone, Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār.” Padminī Bhārgav smiled gracefully.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār controlled himself.
He was astonished that ultimately Bhārgav Brahm Jagdambā Padminī Bhārgav had allowed him to visit United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations.
It was the sparkling capital of United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations, Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār hadn’t seen any City better, except Ved Nagar only.
Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar was almost Ved Nagar itself.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār had come here directly from Karosiā Brahm Creations.
His extremely beautiful 1008 Brāhmañ secretaries were also with him, as well as his Brāhmañ Mahārānīs, Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit, etcetera.
Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār was already there when Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār reached Durgesh Padminī Bhārgav Nagar.
“Sorry to stop you from starting discussions.” Vibhā Trivédī smiled, “Her Excellency prefers privacy in meetings.”
“I feel privileged.” Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār pulled his Ārý Samājī Charmkār Penis out of Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit’s still tight Dīxit Brāhmañ Cunt till only its head was inside, then pushed it again entirely back, “We are honored that ultimately you accepted us as a negotiable political unit. Thank you very much.”
“It’s alright,” Padminī Bhārgav smiled, “Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār himself came here in person to decide the agenda of our negotiations. It was a great honor. We had to respond to it positively at least.”
Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār smiled fucking Rājpitāmahī Mahārānī Brahm Vaishñavī Pāŧhak.
Padminī Bhārgav considered them silently for a few moments.
It was not easy to her to digest watching two Charmkār Penises were invading so many Brāhmañ Cunts before her own eyes.
But she had to negotiate with Rājpitāmah CharmPratāp Charmkār and Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār to get at least Brahm Padminīs for United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations’ own good.
It was not enough to break the marriages of entire Brahm Padminīs in United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations only and make them Brahm Jagdambās legally whether they liked it or not.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan was doing much more, very very much more to dominate BrahmKanyās and Brahmāñīs in Bachhalyā households.
Padminī Bhārgav had to bring entire Brahm Padminīs from everywhere, from entire Multiverse and make them Brahm Jagdambās.
It could not be done without establishing diplomatic relations with the political units that had Brahm Padminīs.
She had to make them to surrender entire Brahm Padminīs to United BrahmKanyā Brahmāñī Brāhmañ Creations for ever.
Padminī Bhārgav was ready to give any reasonable price for them in exchange.
And she could give them plenty.
Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit, Rājmātā Brahméshvarī Kulkarñī, Rājmātā Mahārānī Brahmmālā Pāŧhak, and Rājmātā Mahārānī Sudéshñā Dubey were swallowing Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār’s strong Charmkār Penis into their beautiful Brāhmañ Cunts entirely and watching Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī swallowing my Multiversal Ever Sexiest Bachhalyā Lund in their Bhārgav Brāhmañ Cunt and Trivédī Brāhmañ Cunt proudly.
All the four Mahārānīs were feeling extremely jealous of Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī.
Was Mahārānī Viprmohinī Dīxit less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Brahméshvarī Kulkarñī less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Mahārānī Brahmmālā Pāŧhak less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājmātā Mahārānī Sudéshñā Dubey less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Was Rājpitāmahī Mahārānī Brahm Vaishñavī Pāŧhak less beautiful than Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī?
Then why Padminī Bhārgav and Vibhā Trivédī were Brahm Jagdambās and why they were Niyog Mahārānīs of a Charmkār Brahm Creation only?
Why they were condemned?
What the hell had they done after all?
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