Category Archives: Kavi’s

The Magnate [MG]

“Aristotle” was the name of our organization. Built brick-by-brick by a top notch team of sales professionals, the organization would source business from financial entities to sell their customized, high-yield financial products to high net-worth clients. While it was a BPO, it was staffed by a bunch of talented MBA’s and CA’s, who would reach out personally to these clients. Handling a business in excess of 500 MN USD, the privately held Aristotle was a success story.

I was one of the key drivers of Aristotle in the early years.

I was recruited as a young, ambitious CFA. In a short while, my leadership qualities were recognized, and I was made team leader. Within two years of joining, I was a general manager, managing one of the three teams of Aristotle. I was personally responsible for half the turnover of Aristotle.

My management team consisted of Wyatt and Sarah. Wyatt was the taciturn financial analyst, who was responsible for working out the returns on investment of all plans. He was the one who would give pointers on which portfolios to push, which sectors to invest in. Sarah was the HR Head, responsible for retention and recognition. Not that the team required much effort there, for the team was well paid and rewarded. It was my job to drive the business, and I was fairly efficient at it (though more in the short term, as I realized later). My style was to reward the performers, and push out the laggards. One month of below par performance meant a strong mail from my side. A second month meant a public tongue lashing from me. The third month meant Sarah would have to work out a replacement on priority.

This formula worked well for me. I was the toast of the management committee. Nods of approval followed my presentations to them every quarter. This worked quite well for me for a year and half.

I was in my early thirties then. It was a heady time. All the top managers had their condos in a high rise, and Friday evenings were spent boozing and screaming about achievement (though the screaming was mostly mine). The normal social life – family, school friends etc. took a back seat. I never broke up with my girlfriend – we just drifted apart so much that we never spoke again.

I was riding the wave of success. All I looked forward to was growth, never giving a thought to the fact that waves come with crests as well as troughs.

It all began to fall apart when I made a pitch to handle the entire business. At stake was my reputation, but I stood to become a VP. The fat paycheck and the large SUV looked too good for me to resist. I boldly announced my plan to grow the business 50% in six months.

I began to dictate my terms clearly. “Perform or perish” was the motto. Clear and tangible deliverables were set to achieve targets. This included daily number achievement. God knows how many times I screamed at the top of my lungs, exhorting my team to deliver, deliver on numbers. I even pushed Wyatt to customize financial products with high-risk, high-return nature. “Too much risk – just too much!” is what he would mutter. I would dismiss his mumbling with a shake of the head. Sales lurched, with strong month-on-month growth.

Sarah and I began to get into heated arguments. She was this big, almost motherly figure in the office. The shoulder on which everyone would lay their head to cry. To her credit, she managed to balance the growing monthly attrition with impeccable recruitment. But the bone of contention was employee satisfaction and engagement, which she said was going down rapidly. She said that it wouldn’t sustain for long, and I could stand to lose the ace team that I’d built up over the last few months.


Once Sarah, Wyatt and I we were at a Japanese restaurant. We had already finished two bottles of sake (at least one bottle was my own consumption). Sarah again brought up the topic of employee engagement. To which I said “Shut Up”, fairly loud. Sarah looked livid at that. Wyatt looked up and said “You are too far gone, man.”

I said “What are you guys worried about?!? I am gonna take us to the next level… And you guys talk about… about engagement and too much risk? That’s small town talk – grow up to the world of real finance, guys!”

Wyatt shook his head as Sarah tossed aside her napkin and stormed out of the restaurant.

Things began to go South after this. Month-on-month sales began to stagnate, and then decline. I sacked a couple of youngsters. That didn’t improve things – so I sacked a few more. Suddenly, things went for a toss – per head revenue generation dipped to an all-time low. Targets were not being met. Attrition was at an all-time high.

I was ripped apart at the quarterly meeting. To be honest, I had expected it. But when the chips are down, it hurts all the more. Especially when you have given a few prime years of your life to the job. I was told that I had two months to get things back on track. Else I would be out of a job.

I called Sarah and Wyatt to my cabin. When they were in, I downloaded my frustrations on them. I ranted on how their focus on engagement and risk aversion were hurting my ambitions, and I blamed them for my misfortune.

As I finished, Wyatt took a page from my desk and proceeded to write his resignation letter on it. I looked at him with an open mouth, as he quietly signed it and slid it smoothly across the expanse of polished wood towards me.

“You can’t leave Wyatt!” I uttered, as he shuffled towards the door. He didn’t even look back as he gave me the finger.

I paced in front of my desk, as Sarah spoke: “Do you realize what you have done? You have become blind with pride and arrogance, blind enough to not see the truth that is barreling towards you. You never ever realized that the foundation to a solid business is sound strategy and people management. You instead focused on short term high risk. Your bad investments have piled up now.”

Sarah was on her feet now. “You have coerced your young and capable team to stretch until they can’t stretch anymore. And when they couldn’t, you started to sack them. These guys, the heart of Aristotle, are what made your fortune, and you forsook them, sacrificing their careers and confidence at the altar of blind ambition.”

I walked up to Sarah, trying to buttonhole her… But she stood there like a rock, her solid six-foot figure, framed with broad shoulders. Suddenly I felt small in front of her. She placed her big palm on my chest and pushed. Her effort was slight, but I crashed with some force into the plush sofa.

I was shocked to experience this. As I struggled to my feet, Sarah came up and again pushed me down. “Now you shut the fuck up and listen!” She spoke forcefully. “Our jobs are at stake here… not only that, it’s the matter of the lives of these thirty young guys in the team… You can’t play around any longer, things have got to change. What you have been doing is clearly not sustainable, and I won’t let you do it any longer.”

That infuriated me… “What do you mean… you won’t let you do it any longer??? How can you stop me? You are a part of my team, and if you don’t agree to that, then like Wyatt, you too can take a p-“ WHAPP

I found myself on the sofa again. My head was swimming. I had just been slapped off my feet by my HR manager! Things were moving so fast for me! I felt her fingers reach my neck. Two sets of fingers gripped my collar and pulled me up with a jerk. She pulled me up so hard that I found my feet dangling in mid-air. I could make out massive arms through the loose cloth of her blouse.

“OK you piece of shit! I am taking over this division effective now! You will be a non-executive on my team, and you will remain so until I feel you have regained your senses. To emphasise, she shook me in her hands and dumped my ass into the sofa before huffing out of my cabin.

I had never thought that Sarah could be so strong! Of course she was tall and broad… And typically dressed in a full sleeved blouse and jacket, with trousers flared in the bottom. Not that she wasn’t attractive – a regular face framed with expressive eyes with full lips and a pleasant smile. However hard she worked, she would always find time to go to the gym – an hour in the morning and two hours in the evening. And when she had lifted my up by my collar, I spied massive muscled forearms bursting out of the sleeves – ridged and ripped, with veins snaking around the sinews. Those arms had held me up for perhaps five seconds; but I never detected any hint of strain, almost as if she had picked up a rag doll.

Sarah had met with the management team and had put forward her revival proposal. She had pushed for immediate restructuring of business within the division with a focus on a lower risk profile. She had also promised that attrition levels would go down again. Faced with the prospect of implosion, the management had agreed with Sarah’s eloquent argument on how to bring back the business from the precipice it was at.


Sarah was like soothing balm to the wound that I had scoured on the psyche of the team in such a short time. She began by eliminating hard targets altogether for two months. This allowed the team to catch its breath again. Vacations were organised for all employees to get them to recharge their batteries. The ace team that I had built began to herd around her. They looked up to her, not only for their problems but also for practical solutions for their daily issues. For Sarah had built up a strong understanding of the financial services sector in her two year stint here. She had an uncanny ability to get a right reading of market trends.

In the meanwhile, I worked in the background. I was part of Sarah’s strategy team, composed of her, me and Wyatt (who had rejoined without much protest when Sarah insisted). I was initially reluctant to take up this new ‘dumbed-down’ role. But Sarah had been most insistent. She was able to convince me with a detailed plan to cut out the high-risk portfolio. She showed me how she planned to eliminate the excess risk, without reducing the high premium we charged on our work.

In two months, attrition had fallen to earlier levels. The team looked back at those few months as a distant nightmare. Sarah had been promoted to VP HR and Operations. I too, began to enjoy my role as ‘GM Strategy’, reporting to Sarah. She was sharp, articulate and decisive. Aristotle again began to scale the heights of glory, as Sarah pushed for and opened the first office across the Atlantic, in Belfast. This was followed by an initial public offer, which raised nearly a billion dollars of funds, enabling the organization to plan its global expansion in earnest. Within two years of taking over, Sarah Tanner was the CEO of Aristotle, and a globally recognized finance expert as well as a motivational theory proponent. The big moment came when she was featured on the cover of Fortune.

She was the Magnate of the financial world.

What about me? I was Sarah’s Executive Assistant now, helping her to keep a track of the reams of financial data that she loved to go through. I was also responsible for planning her meetings with top financial honchos as well as keep a track of her major appointments (she also had a secretary for the job).

Sarah and I had joined Aristotle within a space of a few days, both at the age of 33. In eighteen months, I had risen from manager to GM, only to burn like a meteor. Sarah on the other hand, had started off more sedately. She had been the perfect foil to my gung-ho ways. Even when I was on a downward spiral, she was watching my back. With my fall, she had taken up the mantle for us both. She had taken hold of my destiny by the collar, and had guided us to better times. She had risen from manager to MD within four years of taking over my mantle.

We stood together, side by side. This was the balcony of the Ritz in London. The night sky was clear and the stars twinkled, though the wind had a chill in it. It was an off-day, and Sarah had invited me to her suite. When I stepped in, she greeted me with a warm hug, which was not altogether unusual. Today, she looked different. Her hair was made up, and she had a trace of eyeliner. High cheekbones accentuated her Scandinavian ancestry. For the first time, I saw her wearing a sleeveless black dress that ended at her knees. I noticed that she had worn high heels, which made her tower one head above me. We had a prolonged dinner followed with some vintage Tuscan.

We stood there, looking at the skyline, and sipping on some more of the fine vintage. Putting our glasses away, Sarah turned me around to face her. “Do you think I have been good to you?” I looked down at her feet, and after a pause, said:” Sarah, you have been more than good to me. You picked me up when I was going to self-destruct. I- I don’t know what I would have done without you…” Sarah said “Don’t berate yourself. You are such a gemstone. You were made to shine. And you have done so. Without your leadership, Aristotle wouldn’t have got the initial thrust that it got five years back. And I picked up the basics of financial management from you, dear!”

“Sarah, just the same, you picked us up, all of us, and steered us from a crisis, to a point when we are globally recognized as a premium financial service provider. It was your strong arm that was responsible.” My tonality then shifted to how the transformation affected me. “I was a prick earlier. My ego wouldn’t let me take the right decision. It took me quite some time to accept you as my superior and leader.” There was a lump in my throat: “I would have been lost without you, Sarah… I was like a leaf, fluttering in the breeze, trembling. You were firm with me, but were also more than fair and benevolent. Had it been someone else, I would have been dropped like a hot potato.” Tears had begun to form in my eyes now. “I- I don’t think I could have found a better, more capable leader than you. And also a friend and advisor.” The years of pent up feelings burst in me. My knees felt weak and I was about to fall to my knees. But it was Sarah again, who held me up. Her strong hands and thick forearms ensured that I didn’t fall.

“Have you truly accepted me as your superior, then?” she asked. “What do you mean, Sarah?” “I mean, do you take me as one who is mentally, emotionally and physically superior to you, in every way?”

“Uhhh… I don’t understand, Sarah…” Sarah put her hands on her hips, and said: “You need to understand this very clearly… if you accept me, in totality, as a person who is superior to you in every which way, I will support you and push you ahead in life.” She put her big hands on my shoulders and drew me closer. “Trust me, and Put your life in my strong hands. I promise that I will help derive your full potential in life. For I know how to get the best out of you, how to make your life meaningful and joyful.” She cupped my chin tenderly. “Surrender to me…”

“Oh Sarah!” I said, and went down on my knees. I was weeping in joy. “Take me under you… give me your strength…” Sarah smiled at me. “Are you ready to give yourself to me? Do you see me as a Goddess?” And then she struck a pose that I will never forget – a double biceps pose. Muscles rippled like rocks on her arms. Each bicep muscle was as large as a grapefruit. Ohhh… Suddenly I had an intense desire to be draped across those massive arms and shoulders, to feel those hard woman parts bite into my body. How my cock lurched – the tentpole being so evident through my shorts.

Sarah noticed, and smiled ever so. “See how I have brought you down, down like a quavering, helpless leaf caught in a tempest.” I nodded, my head bowed in front of her. “I was a junior to you, a part of your team. And here I am today, on top of the world. You, who were my boss, are now my assistant. You take your orders from me, you take guidance from me. I have picked you up from the road to ruin, and moulded you like soft clay in my strong fingers. Do you see?” She proceeded to form her fingers into a tight fist. Muscles in her forearm bulged and the sinews were quite prominent. Thick veins snaked like rivers through the forest of dense muscle.

Seeing her arm bulging with muscle, I now realized what her hours of effort in the gym had actually made her into. I flicked my tongue over my lips, almost instinctively trying to reach out and trace each muscle and vein in that ripped, steely arm.

Sarah then rotated her right foot outwards and shifted her balance on to it. The calf muscles already incredibly large, bunched up marvelously; like strong slabs of granite, the skin over the muscles stretched and shining. “Come to my feet. Pay obeisance to my power.” Hunched low and shaking visibly, I reached out to the jutting calf muscle and planted a tentative kiss on the hard edge. “Feel it, little one. Feel the power. Taste it!” I ran my tongue all around the jutting calf muscle. Oh, how hard was that muscle, with my tongue tracing those hard edges, feeling the glory of each ridge and bump. How her calf pulsed with power, as she slowly raised and lowered her foot to flex that muscle. “Suck on my hardness – do it now!” she commanded. I shuddered as my lips closed around the hardness. Softly, so softly, I sucked on the hard meat. Flicked a little tongue on the velvet skin. “Hmm!” She approved.

Like a bitch on heat, I rasped my tongue on the inside of the calf. I sucked on it for sustenance, my efforts audible. I opened my mouth to take as much of her hardness as was possible for me. In worshipping her calf, I moaned in pleasure myself.

My eyes were closed in rhapsody, and I barely felt it when she smoothly removed my tee in a swift motion. The chill in the air gave me goose pimples, and my pink nipples stood out proudly.

“Look at me!” She said. I reluctantly withdrew from her calf and looked up at her from my knees. My hunger and devotion was there for her to see. She smiled at me, and bent down to pull me up. Even as I was moving up, her hand was on my buckle. My trouser joined the tee on the floor. I stood there, shivering slightly. “Drop your boxers” she said. I was shocked! I looked up at her with worry. But Sarah just smiled and nodded her head – my fingers automatically went to the elastic band. There was just a bit of hesitation as it caught on my tumescent cock. And there I was, standing naked in front of my incredible Goddess, naked and exposed as the day I was born.

I shivered and looked down. And then Sarah told me to go down on my knees. As I crouched in front of her, she told me to spread my knees.

I am your superior. I am your savior, your Goddess…” “Yes, Sarah, you are my Goddess.”

“Supplicate to me for my blessings.”

I was down at her feet, kissing the tips of her toes.

“Feel those calves of mine. Feel the hard muscles, all coiled and loaded with power.” With trembling hands, I cupped those massive mounds of marble-like hardness. I knew that the power coursing in them was beyond my comprehension. More so, when she flexed them. Feeling those diamond like slabs in my hands, my cock throbbed and stood at attention.

“Feel the power of my thighs, little one! Put your arms between them.” I did as directed, and she proceeded to squeeze my arms so hard, that I cried out with pain, (and a bit of pleasure), for I liked being helpless in her hands.

I melted at that. I just collapsed, sitting at her feet, holding onto her legs for support. Sarah put her hand on my head. “

“Oh- Oh my God, Sarah, you are… you are so buff… so big, so, so very strong!” Sarah smiled dazzlingly in response. “Am I not? Haven’t I been strong all this while? Strong enough to shoulder our burdens together?” “Oh Sarah!” I exclaimed – please hold me tight. With that, her huge arms came around me, enveloping me in a bear hug. She took my breath away. Pulling me up further, she carried me into the big bedroom, and laid me gently on the king-sized bed.

Kicking off her heels, she got into the bed. The air-conditioning had chilled the room considerably. My body, naked and pink, shivered in the cold and in the heat of my expectations.

“Come by my side; put your head on my arm.” She said. I lay next to her, taking in her natural fragrance, her right breast close to my face.

She rubbed my body with the large palm of hers, up and down, up and down. That helped to stop the shivering somewhat. Then her hand began to explore my body – she began with my bony shoulders, slowly moving down the sides, feeling each and every rib. That made me close my eyes in pleasure. Now she was exploring my hip, giving me goose bumps all over again. And then my rump. She spent some time here, gently squeezing the soft flesh, kneading it between her fingers. I swear, never was my dick as hard as it was now.

Sarah then turned me onto my back. She effortlessly pulled my thigh away and then turned towards me. In a smooth move, she was kissing me on the side of my neck, killing me with deft touches of her lips and running her tongue down to my collar. “Aaaahh!” I exclaimed, as I stretched myself, desire coursing through me.

Suddenly, her lips clamped over mine. She kissed me softly, and then sucked with some force. I felt her hot tongue forcing its way into my mouth, feeling my inside, probing me. Ohh… how I wanted to suck and lick that tongue!

Her knee forced its way between my legs. As she flexed he thigh, my legs parted even further. Now her upper thigh was flush against my groin; she flexed her thigh slowly, moving it up and down, firmly caressing my balls. My cock was tap-tapping her waist. “Umm…. You are moist…” she said, as she felt my pre-cum stick to her skin. Her strong hand went to my groin, cupping my balls, caressing them, fondling, slowly feeling my testicles between her long fingers. Her palm, callused by years of lifting weights, felt wonderful rubbing against my scrotum.

And then she ran her fingers up and down my shaft… so soft her touch, yet so firm in their resolution to pleasure me. After making me squirm in pleasure like this, she gripped my cock at the base. Squeezing it in her large fingers, she made the head even larger, bringing me closer to heaven. Stroking in a firm motion, she moved me closer to orgasm. Just as I was about to come, she let go. I shuddered at the sudden stoppage of stimulus.

Suddenly she crossed her left knee over my groin. With her left hand, she pulled my cock up, bringing it below her knee. Then she brought her lower leg up, so that my cock was trapped in the space between her thigh and calf. Oorrhh… How can I describe this? It was like being gripped in a giant clamp. One side was the relatively soft underthigh; the other was the hard, anvil like slab of the calf. My poor little dick was completely enclosed in the most wonderful cocoon of hard female muscle.

I was at Sarah’s mercy now. She was in complete control, squeezing her leg rhythmically. I was being pumped by her, my organ being squeezed, stroked and coaxed. It wasn’t long before I was arching my back and clenching and unclenching my toes and fingers. Sarah began to gently nibble the side of my neck, and her finger started to tease my cock-head. Titillated and stimulated at various points, I uttered a long moan from deep in my throat… and came.

The orgasm was unlike any other I’d ever experienced. Waves of pleasure rolled through me. My insides seemed to contract, expelling jism wave after wave. I never knew I had so much milk in me! Sarah held me tightly as I cummed. She kept squeezing my cock between her calf and thigh, slowly draining it of every last drop. The waves lasted almost a minute, after which I finally closed my eyes, a blissful smile on my face (as she described to me later).

Sarah had picked me up and made me hers. I was completely her devotee now. To be frank, I would have been completely happy had I died there that very night, after having experienced such bliss. But I knew more was to come. My Goddess was with me, controlling my destiny. My soul was hers now.


Certain elements in the story may appear random to those who are not acquainted with the ‘Mahabharata’, the epic tale of the struggle and battle between two powerful families over a kingdom, a story which is an important part of the Hindu mythology (mythology or history?).

Translated by Prinsep, James; at the Asiatic Society of Bengal, Calcutta, 1838. Explanations and definitions are presented as endnotes. Translations and comments are within <angular brackets>.


This is an extract from the journal of Draupadi, real name Krishna. The original is estimated to be several thousands of years old, and what survives is taken from a faithfully rewritten account from a distant descendant of Dhaumya, her family priest.

This is her account of how Duryodhan, the Kuru prince, plotted with the help of his uncle Shakuni to deprive their cousins the Pandavs of their kingdom and their rights, and traces the story of her husband, the pandavas, from the time they lost everything at the gamble, to their time in exile.

The story is at odds with the official version of the Mahabharata, as age and the egos of the learned managed to layer the facts with white lies and half-truths to change it to its present accepted version. 


<The game of dice>

The announcer ran to my chambers, “Your Grace…” he said, catching his breath, “He’s coming…” “Who?” I asked. “Prince Duhshasan, your Grace…” I was stunned. Anyone who was not a part of my chamber had to ask permission to come in. Even if it were my own husbands.

The guards held Duhshasan’s squad at bay. When he saw me, he shouted: “Come, you Daasi <slave>, it is time for you to go to your master.” I gave a stare that would wither a Banyan tree. Cowering, he said…”You are to come immediately with me to the great hall of kings.” “It is not for you to command or even suggest where I am to go, haughty and uncouth prince. I will come at my pace.”

Misgivings played out in my head as I went to the hall of kings – where a game of Pacheesi(iv) was being played out between my husbands and their cousins, the Kurus. It had so transpired that Yudhistir, normally the most sensible of my husbands, had in desperation, gambled away not only his wealth and kingdom, but also his brothers and himself. Not realising how he’d been cheated, he also gambled me away. So I was now technically a Daasin, a servant of the victors.

Duryodhan, the eldest Kuru prince, had already asked my husbands to disrobe and stand in the manner of slaves. He taunted the younger brothers to give up Yudhistir, who had gambled them all away. They stood there mutely, looking down. What fools I have married!

Karn then diverted the attention to me. He said: “Now that Draupadi is a Daasi, she can marry a Kuru prince. If she can live with five husbands, she can have a sixth, or a seventh, or a hundred and five of them.” The Kuru brothers broke into laughter. There were jeers and catcalls. All this happening in front of the elders of Hastinapur.

Then Duryodhan told Duhshasan: “See how the whore stands…she still thinks she is a princess. Let us all see how she looks. Take off her sari. Let us all have a glimpse of this woman who once dared to mock us.”

With nearly a hundred voices backing him, Duhshasan was emboldened enough to reach out and grab the pallu of my sari. I gripped the pallu and planted my feet there. The yellow sari had an inlay of gold and copper fibres, so it was quite strong and wouldn’t tear. Duhshasan pulled and jerked to dislodge my grip, but I held firm. Was he thinking that he would be able to defeat me in this game of tug?

Beads of sweat had coated Duhshasan’s forehead and nose. He changed position and tried his level best. He might as well have been trying to pull down a castle wall. Then he to dislodge me with quick pulls from different angles. He ran around me, trying to unwrap the sari, or cause it to get entangled around my wrist. The fool. I only had to turn around to counter his angle. The strain on my arm was not too much, but my perfectly muscled forearms and biceps were taut with definition. The veins lining them gave ample hints of the power I had. Duhshasan was embarrassed now and very afraid too. He was jumping like a langur <monkey> and screaming to disorient me.

It was getting exasperating. Finally, I decided that I need to lose this fellow. As he made a jump sideways, I turned and gave the sari such a pull that Duhshasan couldn’t manage to retain balance and sprawled face down at my feet.

The court was silent. Duhshasan’s chest was heaving with exertion and shame.

“O King!” I addressed Dhritarashtr, the father of the Kurus. “Is this how a princess of the family is to be treated?”

“We won her in a fair game of dice, father. We can do with her as we please!” Said Duryodhan. Saying so, he bared his hairy thigh and slapped it, saying: “Come daasi, sit here and give me pleasure.”

“How can I be treated like a daasi? Does Yudhistir have the moral right to gamble me away? Where is the courtesy of the great hall? Does even a daasi get disrobed in this manner?” I gave the assembly a discourse on how the great kings treated women with courtesy. And how by such acts, the entire clan had been brought to disrepute.

On the entreaties of Queen Gandhari and Vikarn, one of the Kuru brothers, it was decided that the results of the game would be annulled, and a fresh game played tomorrow. The loser would go onto an exile of thirteen years, the last year of which would be incognito.

Tonight I called Yudhistir to my chamber and chastised him. I have used a whip to make his butt raw with wounds, so that he would remember what consequences await him if he loses tomorrow.

The twelve years – selected adventures

<Excerpts from the journal>

…we set out with heavy hearts. I wanted to kill my husband for losing the match again. We are marching west, towards the river Sarasvati. Yudhistir intends to reach the forest of Kamyaka, where many Brahmans and ascetics reside. I have left my five sons with my father. I will miss them sorely, as they will miss their mother. But they need to grow up to be fine strong men and warriors.

…This is truly a beautiful place, abounding in animals and birds of all sorts. There are many medicinal plants and varieties of fruit, so the ascetics who live here are truly not wanting for food.

… Our cottage is now complete. Yudhistir spends time with travelling and residing mendicants, discussing with them the scriptures and arguing about Dharma. I fear with no one to guide him, he would while away his remaining days in such discussions. Bhim frets and rants about Duryodhan and Duhshasan, swearing to kill them. But mostly he eats. And can that man eat! The quiet Arjun spends time hunting. At least he is gainfully occupied. The twins entertain us with song and dance, which they are good at.

I am worried about this. What will happen to us after thirteen years in exile? Are we to return to Hastinapura like worn out villagers, only to be killed by the Kurus? I must do something about this.

Last night I thought about galvanising my husbands to action. Today, after the morning meal, I spoke with the family at length. I have convinced the moping Arjun to go to the Himalayas, to Mount Kailas, and learn the secrets of celestial weapons. Bhim is under a strict diet, I’ve got him chopping trees so that he gets back in shape. I need his shoulders to be strong so that he will be able to shatter Duryodhan’s bare thigh when we meet in battle. Yudhistir is not the battling type, so I am going to teach him how to throw the spear. He will never be able to match my prowess in this, but at least would be able to hold his own in battle. I’ve asked Bhim to whittle out practice swords for the twins. I will teach them how to wield swords…

Our largely peaceful and routine life was mightily disturbed today. A few days before he left for Kailas, Arjun had intercepted and killed a Rakshas <demon> called Saardul. The rakshas had been terrorising the old ascetics and killing them. After his death, a great wailing had erupted from the forest, like a hundred jackals calling out together.

Today, a beautiful woman called Sim came to our cottage. She wanted to take me to an old Durga temple deep in the forest. Since I can take care of myself, I let my husbands continue their training and followed Sim deep into the forest. After a while, I realised she was taking me to the denser parts where more rakshasas reside. I confronted her and she turned into her true form, a demon. Her name was Simhika. Her hair was more like a lions’ mane. Sharp claws appeared in place of shapely hands. Rough hair grew on her body. She jumped on me, intending to bite and claw, but I held her off, but with difficulty. The demon was strong and sinewy, but raw strength can be countered with leverage. My gurus had ensured that I learnt grappling as well. Soon I had her pinned down and submissive. She said she was the wife of the demon Arjun had slain. She had been driven by grief, as well as by the urgings of her brother, another demon called Kirmir. She warned me that Kirmir would not spare the Pandavs, especially, Bhim, who had killed his brother Bakasur and friend Hidimb.

Now Sahadev had seen me leaving, and had followed us discretely. As I let go of Simhika and she got up, Sahadev charged at her and slashed with his sword. It was too late to stop him; he had cut her breasts and face. She lay in a pool of blood, her life draining out of her. I finally managed to yank the sword out of his hand and slapped him with the back of my hand. The fool thought that he’d saved me. With sorrow, I went to Simhika and snapped her neck to relieve her suffering.

“But I saved you!” cried Sahadev, as I twisted his ear. “You fool, go run and get your brothers, we have a deadly battle coming upon us. Run!” Sahadev ran. I turned back to see storm clouds gathering, and made my way back to the cottage. I described the incident to Dhaumya, our head priest, and Yudhistir. It was decided that we will have to hold off Kirmir with guile and mantra <spells>, until Bhim came back from his daily chores.

Soon, a dark cloud appeared, taking the form of a hideous monster. It was Kirmir, of red eyes and hair. His very countenance was scary to say the least. He was accompanied by a host of smaller demons. The chants of Dhaumya gave us courage, and the monster hesitated. I stepped forward and spoke with Kirmir, who revealed that he knew we were responsible for the deaths of Bakasur, Hidimb and Simhika. He sorely wanted to kill us all, Bhim first. I parried him with questions of my own, gaining time until Bhim was there.

The battle was intense. Both broke off branches and used them as clubs. The strong rakhsas hurled rocks and boulders as well. It was good that Bhim had begun training. His conditioned body took all the attacks well, and he landed telling blows. Suddenly, a lesser demon attacked Bhim’s knees from behind. He lost his balance and fell. Kirmir took the opportunity to raise a boulder and smash Bhim’s head. But I picked up the club discarded by Bhim, and smote him fiercely on his neck. The monster collapsed dead. At this, his host fled, and darkness seemed to lessen. I helped Bhim to his feet, and tended his injuries lovingly. Tonight I will reward him magnificently.

…Arjun has now been gone nearly five years. I miss my reticent husband. Not that the others are any bad, but Arjun is special for me. So we are setting off for the Himalayas to receive him and bring him back.

… The five years have made Arjun a skilled archer, armed with weapons of mass destruction: The Narayanastra, Pasupatastra and more. He has also blossomed as a lover – has a wife called Subhadra. That brings the count of his wives to four, including myself.

Subhadra, the sister of the esteemed Sri Krishna, is a sweet girl, having many virtues. She is sharp, intelligent and well versed in law. I think we are going to make it off well…

…we are back to our cottage in Kamyaka. Dhaumya is happy to see us, and has prepared a feast…

…our twelfth year. They are ready, honed for battle. I have ensured my husbands don’t have an inch of extra flab. And if they do, I make sure they get the extra exercise at night.

Today the vile Jayadrath tried to abduct me. At least he tried to grab me with that intention. The vile king of Sindhu is also the husband of Duhshala, the sweet sister of the Kurus.

The villain felt that he could just pick me up and leave. He doesn’t know that I am also known as Agnijyotsna, that I am forged from fire. He grabbed me from behind and tried to pin me down. Since I am much taller than him, I hit him with my elbow on the head. He let me go and crouched, massaging his head. Then he tried to grab my legs, but I danced out of his way. My anklets played a tune as he lunged at me with frustration. Finally, I kicked him in the chest and he rolled over. “So, Jayadrath, what did you intend with that friendly approach of yours?” I asked him after I had planted a foot on his chest. He grunted and tried to get up, but a firm push from my foot made sure he didn’t get up. Then he tried to get up, pushing with his legs and arms, thrusting with all his fairly strong body to push my foot off. But I kept him down, pinned with my foot on his chest. He heaved, cried and screamed. He tried to push off my foot with his hands. My foot remained on his chest. The balled muscle of my calf indicating the pressure that was making it hard for him to breathe. “You can’t beat me, let alone take on my husbands. What was going on in your mind?” “I…ahh..I..thought you would be..ahh…sick and tired of staying in the forest…you must be missing the comforts of the palace…why not come with me?” As he said this, his push on my calves became a comforting rub, as he felt the hardness, and traced the lines of the muscles. A noticeable bulge appeared beneath his angavastra <suit>. I thought I should play with him a little.

“Hear, O Jayadrath, about my husbands. The eldest, Yudhistir, is the wisest among men. His nobility and understanding of Dharma <law> is second to none. Calm and composed he may be, but no better hurler of javelin you will find in the battlefield. He can kill an elephant with a spear.” “Bhim, the second husband, of mighty countenance and power, is second to none when it comes to strength of body. He is the slayer of demons, the uprooter of trees. Entire armies quake when he comes. In rage, his mace can fell man, beast and demon alike.” I pressed him even more. “I do not need to sing the virtues of Paarth, my husband Arjun. No other warrior comes close to him in wielding the bow and arrow. His bow is the divine Gandiv, and celestial weapons are for him to choose. Anger him, and chose the destruction of your clan.”

Jayadrath was now alarmed by recitation of my three husbands’ prowess. And aroused as well. He was feeling my calf softly, tenderly, admiring my muscle. I liked it too.

“Nakul and Sahadev are the wise and calm twins. They are well versed in astrology, medicine and battlefield tactics. Both are astute in the wielding of swords and well as other astras and sastras. In battle they are a formidable back up to the aforementioned three.”

I had now tired of Jayadrath’s ministrations to my calf muscles. Lifting my foot, I kicked him on his temple, and he swooned. My husbands rushed to see the inert Jayadrath lying in the mud. He slowly revived. We debated as to what should be done with him, and Yudhistir said: “A Kshatriya, if he lays his hands on a married woman, who also happens to be a related clansperson, deserves death.” These words were delivered by the authority on Dharma. But I argued: “He may deserve death, but remember, he is Duhshala’s husband, the Kuru sister, who you also treat as your own. Do you want her bereaved?” “Then what do we do? Should we let him go? We should kill him” said Bhim. “No. Humiliate him, let him go back to his kingdom, and let him remember that he owes his life to our mercy.” The obstinate Bhim shaved off Jayadrath’s hair in clumps, and sent him scurrying with a kick to the backside.

That fight has left me so horny. I want to fuck my husbands tonight. All of them. I want to make them scream, shout out my name in pleasure, in worship.

I will start with Yudhistir, the calm one. It is so strange to see a man so composed, change into a slobbering, open mouthed beggar, as I make love to him. He is a king, a wise and noble one, but when he lies below me, pinned down by my arms and wrapped in my legs, he begs me, begs for release. He is also skilled with his tongue, the long and strong tongue with which he touches me inside. He begs me for Somras <an alcoholic drink consumed during religious ceremonies>, by which he asks for my juices. I have plenty of that, especially after he coaxes it out of me with his tongue.

Bhim, the tough one. Actually the tender one. He needs tender love. His arms can crush and squeeze any person in this world, and if he gets rough, I remind him that my legs are stronger. Yes, stronger than Bhim’s mighty muscled arms. My legs are like iron maces. They can break a man into two. Or make him a man. After a long hard day trudging through the forest, there is nothing better than to fuck Bhim. He relieves all the tiredness.

What can I say about Arjun? My ‘Jishnu’ (as I like to call him in private). He is the most skilled amongst my husbands. As Subhadra testifies, he aims to please. Possessed of good stamina, and all the tricks of the trade, Arjun is the one to have in your bed if it is an all night long lovefest you are looking forward to.

Nakul and Sahadev, the sweetest, the most adorable husbands. Like children, they have required patience and nurturing to make them useful in bed. Nakul is the most perfect looking man I have ever seen. The most symmetrical face, limbs all in even proportion, a fair complexion, he is so adorable that many sages do not like him simply because their wives are filled with passion and lust when they see him. When I take him to bed, I think of him as a woman. I love to feel his soft chest (now somewhat toned with all that sword play), and caress him delicately. I like to squeeze that rounded rear of his. With both hands. When I get a little rough, he squeals, and I kiss to silence him. I love to part his soft thighs with mine, and pin his arms down. Then I thrust into him vigorously with abandon. How he squeals. After love making, he likes to snuggle in my arms. Sahadev is the naughty version of his brother. He loves a bit of punishment. He likes rough handling, to be spanked, arms twisted, legs wrapped around him. Sometimes I get a bit rough with him and he swoons. But I make sure he is OK. He is also the most acrobatic of the lot. That man can add a lot more postures to the venerable treatise of love written by Manu.

The Chronicles of Draupadi [DP#1]

Certain elements in the story may appear random to those who are not acquainted with the ‘Mahabharata’, the epic tale of the struggle and battle between two powerful families over a kingdom, a story which is an important part of the Hindu mythology (mythology or history?).

Translated by Prinsep, James; at the Asiatic Society of Bengal, Calcutta, 1838. Explanations and definitions are presented as endnotes. Translations and comments are within <angular brackets>.


This is an extract from the journal of Draupadi, real name Krishna. The original is estimated to be several thousands of years old, and what survives is taken from a faithfully rewritten account from a distant descendant of Dhaumya, her family priest.

This is her account of how Duryodhan, the Kuru prince, plotted with the help of his uncle Shakuni to deprive their cousins the Pandavs of their kingdom and their rights, and traces the story of her husband, the pandavas, from the time they lost everything at the gamble, to their time in exile.

The story is at odds with the official version of the Mahabharata, as age and the egos of the learned managed to layer the facts with white lies and half-truths to change it to its present accepted version.  Continue reading The Chronicles of Draupadi [DP#1]

Harley’s Masterpiece [DC#1]

A vindictive Harley Quinn takes on Bane

The breakout from Arkham had been chaotic. In a frenzy to get out, many inmates had cut down their own brethren. Harley was in street clothes, snatched from an unwary pedestrian (who was hog tied and dumped behind a trash can). She was looking for the Joker. He was one of the first to escape, cackling loud and long from afar. “The Fool” she thought. “Doesn’t he know he’s in equal danger from the cops and crooks alike?”  Continue reading Harley’s Masterpiece [DC#1]

The Red & White Lady [YL#1]

A brutal tale. Warning: Blood and gore.

She pushed open the nightclub door…the cold biting wind was a refreshing change. She spat. The tequila shots were like piss. And that made her angrier.
Earlier, delivery of her new workout equipment had been delayed. So she had missed out on her new fitness regime.
Helena had always been strong. In school as a gymnast, later as an athlete… Finally, to take up pole-vaulting as a sport of choice… In which her arm and shoulders had become superhumanly strong.
Cut back to present, as she moves away, she hears cries and muffled screams from the alley. She runs in… Only to see Viktor and Olga, her good friends, being mugged by three large men. The three paused to look at her. They were large men, very large.

Continue reading The Red & White Lady [YL#1]

Mohini – Fire and Ice [MO#2]

A take on a tale from Hindu mythology. Mohini the seductress saves the gods from a rampaging demon.


The degeneration of asuras continued as the centuries passed.

By nature, the asuras were greedy for power. This is the tale of an asura who by dint of penance and intellectual prowess, gained great power. And how that power went to his head. Literally.

History remembers him as Bhasmasur – the asur of ashes. He was a great and wise Asura king, renowned for his intellect and determination. He was, like all other great asura kings, hungry for power. Too hungry, in fact.  Continue reading Mohini – Fire and Ice [MO#2]

Mohini – The Rising [MO#1]


A take on a tale from Hindu mythology. Mohini the seductress helps the gods gain the power of immortality.

In the first Yuga, or age, which goes by the name of Satya Yuga, the Universe was populated on three planes. There were the Devas, the benign and generally benevolent godlike beings in the plane called Swargalok (Heaven). The Asuras were powerful nature-beings who dwelt in Patala (Underworld). These two races occupied different celestial planes that coexisted with the mortal plane that was populated by the Manavas, or mortal men.

The devas and the asuras were mostly at loggerheads. Indra, the immortal leader (through successive rebirths) of the devas, was a proud and fearsome warrior. But the asuras also had some great kings and warriors, some who were just and virtuous. Asura kings like Bali and Mahishasur were reknowned warriors and learned men. They even defeated and ruled all three planes of existence in their time.  Continue reading Mohini – The Rising [MO#1]

May the best man win?

There was a magazine called “SKILL”, published in Britain, which was devoted to wrestling and strength. The magazine may have been stopped publishing sometime in the sixties, or perhaps the seventies. But as to that, information is sketchy.Hamida Banu

Nevertheless, in the mid-1950’s, there was much correspondence in the magazine, of a woman from North India, named Hamida Banu. It was said she was a princess, or at least a wealthy person, who was exceptionally skilled in the art of wrestling.  Continue reading May the best man win?

Tilottama [TT#1]

A tale from Hindu mythology, of how a lethal combination of beauty and power brought down the immortal Asura brothers Sunda and Upasunda.


The land was bled dry.

The wild land south of the Himalayas had been slowly transformed into a rich, vibrant land of opportunity and bounty. The fertile land was nourished by river silts and seasonal rains. Agriculture flourished and the land was perhaps the most populous on Earth. Lush forests and ample mineral resources helped the transform the primarily agrarian communities into trading societies. These grew to become some of the most prominent cities in the world, famous trading hubs for natural produce and a melting pot of cultural and artistic talent.

Altruistic kings with vision and monarchs with military might; they lived, fought and died here. They left their marks on the land, some deep, some faded. There were some who bled the land dry, too.

Of these, the tale of Sunda and Upasunda is remarkable. For these were warriors so powerful that there was no kingdom major or minor that could stand up to them.  Continue reading Tilottama [TT#1]

The Little Monsta!

Imagine this: It’s just another day at the gym. You walk in, plan to do your cardio, maybe a few reps with weights. Enough to get the blood pumping and to feel a bit sore in the muscle. And then you bump into her – a woman with a thick, pumped musculature. You check her outDanielle Reardon (48) – wow! She’s so… so  buff! Man! You could not get close to her level of build without being blessed. You can see that she’s a naturally gifted athlete, too. And then she turns towards you… she has a beautiful face with a dazzling smile.  Continue reading The Little Monsta!