Nandra, the Priestess of the Dark Goddess
by Jim Priest
Copyright© 2026 by Jim Priest
Fiction Sex Story: Dangerous young Indian woman destroy some bad guys.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction FemaleDom Interracial White Male Indian Female .
An all-expenses paid trip to Mumbai to consult with an expert in ancient Persian mythology, Penelope at the university had recommended [JIMP#073], to discuss a find I had came across. Seems like a no-brainer to you? Well for one, she had been kicked out of the Sisterhood of Anahita for her obsessive devotion to the dark form of the Goddess, secondly she had reached a senior position in Tota Industries in a very short space of time by “dead man’s shoes”, a situation that she may have created [JIMP#051 & 052]. Arriving in the night after a very long flight, clearing immigration then a long wait to collect my bags, I left arrivals pushing my luggage trolley. Looking at the crowd of people at the barriers, I spot a board with my name on and head towards it. Holding it was a young woman who was classy, petite, slim and gorgeous. I am not that familiar with the caste system but knew without doubt she was Brahmin (upper caste) and surprised she would meet me at the airport at this time of night in person.
“Welcome to India, Mister Priest,” she said in a warm husky seductive voice and an infectious smile. “I hope you had a good flight?”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied. “Nandra Ghandi, I presume?”
Nandra stood around 5 feet 2 inches and wore a black sari with elaborate gold needlework that clung to her buxom assets that thrust forward from her firm flat bare midriff and complemented by a nicely rounded compact backside. Long luxurious black hair framed her face and fell down her back. It was a wide pleasing rounded face with high cheekbones enhanced by a small beauty spot on her left cheek. Her eyes were quite large and alluring with deep brown irises and thick black lashes. Above these sat thin nearly straight black eyebrows. The lower eyelids looked baggy and dark giving her a sultry sleepy look but her bright eyes indicated she was fully alert. The nose was pleasantly slim with a moderate full lipped mouth and when she smiled, it made you feel warm and automatically smiled back. Her skin complexion was very good with no blemishes or spots and had a dainty elegant look of young sophisticated beauty.
“Indeed,” she replied soft deep voice that stirred the cockles of my heart.
She was so enchanting that I barely took note of how easily this petite elegant young Indian woman single-handedly lifted my suitcase into in the back of a waiting car.
We finally arrived at a gated community of old apartment buildings and got out while the chauffeur unloaded the suitcases.
“What floor are you on?” I asked looking up at the tall buildings.
“The top but don’t worry, the lift is a bit old-fashioned but it works,” Nandra smiled.
It was one of those with the metal concertina door you pull across, it looked perilous but as she said, it worked.
Reaching the top floor, we entered into a large richly decorated apartment and shown into a large room with mattresses on the floor.
“In many parts of India it is still custom for families to share a single communal room to sleep in but this a separate room for visitors which you will have to yourself”.
“So you have family living here?” I asked.
“Unfortunately not,” she said with a smile.
Leading me to a large living room, Nandra offered me a night-cap before getting some sleep. She did so in a very seductive voice while pressing her petite nubile body against me and running her fingers up and down my chest. She was openly flirting with me and I found her appeal difficult to resist.
“I’ve done a lot of traditional dancing ever since I was young,” she told me.
Her lithe short body began an exotic dance with a sinuous grace and elegance that was spell-binding. The black sari shimmered under the room lights giving her petite figure a sensual allure. The smouldering way that she looked at me made it clear that this was a dance of seduction and she was very good. Prowling before me like a predator and I her prey, thrusting out her ample bust above a firm taut midriff then turning to look at me coyly over her shoulder, I couldn’t help but stare at how the sari clung to a pert backside. She smiled knowing the effect it was having on me. She kept going upon her toes to maintain a pose and that drew me attention to her amazing calves which were large firm and incredibly toned, shining with muscle tone, as they became deep-edged hard clefted masses of solid muscle. She even hitched up the hem of her sari to give me a better view! They were beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
“You like my calves,” she observed as she began to dance towards me. “That tightness at the front of your trousers tells me you do,” she smiled.
Bending her right leg at the knee she shocked me by placing her foot on my groin then twisting her leg to the side to show off the large calve muscle which was just as incredible from the side with sharp arrow-head slabs of hard muscle.
“You can feel it,” she smiled. “In fact I insist.”
“Actually it was a long flight and perhaps I should get some sleep,” I told her then tried to get up.
Nandra’s foot pressed me back with surprising strength.
“Feel my calves. I insist,” she ordered with an unexpected stern tone.
It wasn’t the sort of invitation that I was going to turn down! I felt the hard-edged heart-shaped muscle applying slight pressure of her foot on my groin. Her calves were quite long and wide despite her height which made a sensational curve that pushed out from slender ankles to the jutting slabs of muscle. When I took them in my hand they were quite weighty too.
“I feel your attention rising,” she smiled seductively as her agile flexible foot and toes toyed with the stiffening tent-pole at the front of my trousers.
The petite Indian dancer then astonished me by sitting across my lap with her legs spread wide on either side of me. Leaning towards me with a seductive look, she thrust her bust towards my face and adjusted the tail end of the sari, called the Pallu, that was draped over her shoulder to reveal a lot more cleavage. Boy, did she have plenty to show off!
“What do think to these puppies?” she asked in a husky tone that was seduction personified. “Do you like them? Would you like to play with them?”
I was highly aroused but aware of her dangerous reputation and was startled when she suddenly wrapped her arms around my the back of my head and pulled my face against her bust. She smothered me between those soft fleshy beauties while laughing at my futile attempts to peel away her arms from around my head which were a lot firmer and stronger than I expected.
After a while of slow playful breast smother, I was further surprised when Nandra nimbly fell backwards to the floor pulling me with her. I ended up on my belly facing her while she lay on her back pulling my right arm over her crotch and locking it between her thighs. Pressing a hand on the back of my elbow while she held my wrist to keep the arm straight, I yelped as she applied an arm-bar. At the same time, her short legs wrapped themselves around me in a figure-four body-scissors positioned high over my shoulder blades with my chest caught in the triangle at the apex of her legs. I gasped as her legs began to tighten, not expecting the surprisingly strong squeeze.
“Now you can feel how strong a dancer’s legs are,” she stated as I struggled helplessly in her tight leggy hold.
A sudden surge of powerful muscular pressure left me gasping while my head was swimming. My free hand felt the silky smooth skin of her thigh which despite its alluring appearance felt like it had steel plates beneath the skin. I had no doubt that this beautiful little Indian woman could easily knock me out in seconds! A thought that made my dick hard and which she noticed with a cheeky smile.
“So, you’re one of those guys who get turned being physically dominated by a woman,” she chuckled seductively. “Well I’m one of those women who get turned on physically dominating men, so we’re a match!” she laughed and squeezed some more.
After some more scissoring and laughing at my inability to escape, she sighed theatrically then slightly eased off the pressure to a more comfortable level.
“Don’t get too comfortable Jim. If you don’t you tell me about why you sought me out, I will start your breaking ribs as if they were crackling.”
It was nice being between those lovely thighs as they restrained me with a firm pressure around my waist as she asserted her dominance over me. As delightful and arousing as it was I didn’t want to risk her murderous reputation in case it was true! I reminded her of the statuette of the Goddess Anahita in her ‘dark form’ that she was interested in from one of my clients [JIMP#069]. I gasped and groaned as her strong leggy cage tightened again.
“So you were the one who prevented the sale?” she snarled.
“Wasn’t his to sell!” I struggled to get the words out, praying my ribs would hold out.
Luckily the fearsome crushing pressure eased off.
“It looks a unique piece and the provenance seems right,” she stared at me. “I don’t think you are in the antique selling business on the side, so are you here to gloat?”
“Someone else is demanding the piece. Have you heard of an app called Demonautica?” I asked.
“I haven’t got time for social media or games on my phone,” she replied.
“Lady Helen Windthorpe was so disturbed to be approached by the head of one of the family of the 13 offering protection from their plague in return for what they called the key and the map [JIMP#070], that she actually alerted The Sisterhood of Anahita,” I told her. “The app turns players into zombies doing the bidding of the family on behalf of the Demons they serve”.
The fact that she didn’t scoff at that but remained straight-faced and serious made me suspect that she knew about it.
“I heard there was a spot of bother along those lines but what has that to do with me or the statuette?” she asked as her thighs threatened to tighten once more.
“The decoding device I found years ago is the key [JIMP#019] and the statuette is the map.”
“I don’t see how.”
The lovely strong thighs of the Indian beauty squeezed menacingly making my head swim and my throat choke.
“If you let me go, I will show you.”
Again I sensed reluctance before she released me. I’m sure that she’d rather knock me out or hold on until I was dead.
Nandra pushed me back down to the floor as I attempted to rise. With intimate closeness, her fit supple shapely buxom body was built for desire although I tried to resist its infection. I desperately tried to wiggle out as she pushed me down to get on top of me but found myself no match for the unexpected strength of her slim toned arms. My resistance wavered as her mouth found mine, her tongue began circling my lips with tantalising teasing and stimulation filling me with unwanted desire. She became a sexual demon, her wriggling sensually moving body pressed against me like a succubus. Her tongue invaded my mouth with drooling writhing arousal. She smothered me forcefully with primal desire as she stimulated my lust to devastating effect. Inhibitions were thrown out of the window as we became intoxicated with desire. Maybe it was the Sisterhood training for despite her young age she was a devastatingly skilled lover and kissed me even more intensely while her upper thighs rubbed against my groin.
“Resistance is useless,” she whispered in my ear as her legs stretched mine apart in a light grapevine press, holding me down while tantalising my ear and side of my neck.
She stopped kissing and licking as her hand stole to the tent that had formed at the front of my trousers.
“That will do nicely, Jim,” she chuckled as she unzipped my flies and extracted my erection.
All you need to know is that she rode me like a sexual demon, controlling our lovemaking with amazing control of her love muscles extending it well beyond my stamina until I was exhausted.
After a rest, Nandra helped connect my phone wirelessly to a large TV screen mounted on one wall. I brought up a controllable 3D image of the statuette of the Goddess in her wrathful ‘dark’ form surrounded by worshipping acolytes. Nandra’s attention was rapt and genuine, even more so when I displayed the base and pointed out small skulls and ominous symbols embossed on the bottom.
“I’ve tried using a computer to solve the maze but found no logical paths to navigate it,” I told her.
“These symbols aren’t Persian,” she told me, tracing the shapes on the screen. “I’ve not seen anything like it before.”
I then overlaid Demonautica screenshots from captured phones.
“These seem to fit over parts of the base image but don’t understand the connection,” I said. “An acquaintance recognised this one as Persian and associated with demonology but couldn’t be more specific [JIMP#070],” I pointed to one of the images that didn’t seem to fit.
“That’s the seal of Mahishasura, a very potent symbol indeed,” she said. “Where is this maze supposed to be?”
“The temple of Anahita I suppose.”
“Given that seal, I’d say it’s more likely under a secret temple dedicated to the demon king himself.”
Nandra rotated the 3D image studying the icons from different angles.
“What’s this?” she asked pointing at some raised bumps along the edge of the base.
“Scenic decoration?” I suggested to which she snorted her disapproval then moved the image to an overhead view looking down at the statuette to the base. She used a light-pen to trace the patterns of raised bumps.
“These characters are similar to the ones on the scrolls you had decoded,” she told me. “You’ll need to use that decoding device but I can’t see the key”.
“9546,” I muttered, “Someone told me it might come in useful [JIMP062]”.
“Can you decode it here?”
“No, I would have to run a remote task overnight” I admitted.
By morning I had the results.
“It’s an incantation but I’m not sure what it does, nor does it give us the location,” the fresh-faced young woman told me. “There is one way to get the location but you’re not going to like it.”
She told me about the Lambani, I’d heard the name before [JIMP#056] and she was right. I didn’t like it but could see no alternative.
+++ a rural village in the middle of nowhere
A short young woman entered the prayer-house. The black sari she wore disturbed me but tried to push aside the superstition of it being a taboo colour. If she wanted bad luck she had come to the right place. She looked upper caste and in an area well beneath her status. I was not bothered what she was doing here or how she got here, as I admired her looks. A small beauty spot on her face was appropriate for she was indeed a beauty. The sari did nothing to hide a sensational, if short, figure and a big pair of firm breasts.
“Women are not permitted here,” I told her, leering at her body. “It is tradition you understand but for you I’ll make an exception.”
With a pair like those whoppers and that pretty face I will bang her as a sacrifice on the altar like great Asura Mahisha himself!
“The Farangi however will only find violent death if he comes any further,” I said pointing to the Westerner by her side.
I signalled with our ancient finger language for the others to kill the man once I had taken the beauty into the next room.
“You can’t kill him, he’s the descendant of the accursed Priest and under my protection on behalf of the Dark Goddess,” she exclaimed.
I was stunned.
“How do you know our secret finger language and how do you know our fables? Are you one of those Sisterhood witches?” I asked getting angrier by the second.
“You don’t see me as a threat?” the petite buxom beauty asked stepping closer with a glorious smile.
“Of course not, you’re just a woman,” I leered at the way her big bosom bounced and heaved along a firm body with a surprising sculptured fit belly.
Some may consider me an old man but my lingam is good.
“Only good for sex and having babies?” she sneered.
“Drink,” I ordered, offering her a glass which she did not accept. “What is this is?” I exclaimed. “Do you reject my hospitality?” I asked taking offence.
“I saw you slip a drug into it.” she replied.
“We are feared throughout this part of the country. Seize the man!” I commanded. “You will drink or his throat will be cut,” I told her slapping my hands down upon her shoulders and digging my fingers in.
Instead of crying out and looking scared, the busty beauty showed a smug confidence as her eyes stared at me and her smile got wider. An unexpected flash of movement as her arms rose and bent inward to her shoulders. Grabbing the small finger of each of my hands, I cried out in shock and pain as she ripped my hands from her shoulders with an expression of disdain, bending them right back to open my arms wide as if I were some weakling! Suddenly the hem of her sari twitched and a leg flashed up to stomp my belly hard. I work out every day at the Akhada and thought my stomach was as hard as a brick wall but this little girl’s kick was shockingly strong and flattened my defences. Despite being partly winded I responded fast before she could strike again and used my fists to pummel her face over and over in a wild rush of anger against which she had no defence. The sight of blood on her lips and running from her nose as she fell to the floor pleased me and made me want to smash that pretty face even more.
“The penalty for a woman striking a man is death,” I snarled then followed up with a sharp kick against her side that made her cry out.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the Westerner make a move but Hassan warned him back with a big knife. I kicked the upper caste bitch again and again, enjoying her cries of pain. She tried to grab my foot when I tried to stomp her. In anger I grabbed her by the hair and forced her to her feet and began to swing my fist into her face. Just when I had thought she was about finished, a blur streaked towards my face out of the blue and a petite fist blasted my jaw with a hard upper-cut that sent my face towards the ceiling so fast my senses were momentarily scrambled. With a crick in my neck and before I had collected my awareness, the battered beauty grabbed the top of my hair with one hand and yanked my face towards her. Her face was no longer that of a sweet young girl but that of a vengeful woman full of blazing fury. What I saw chilled me. I had awakened a cold calculating killer and recognised a female reflection of myself and my men. Quick hard punches rained on my face with precision systematically smashing my features just as I had done hers.
Needing to do something, I slammed my right fist into her midriff before she punched me again. I yelped with pain in my hand and wrist as my fist jerked to a sudden halt while a loud sound of impact showed how strong my punch was but astonishingly the little girl in the sari didn’t make a sound although there was a tightness around her mouth and her body jerked back slightly under the mighty impact. I tried to punch again but her right arm flew up to block the blow while the hem of the sari flicked up and I caught a glimpse of well-developed calve muscles before yelling out as a lightning fast kick struck my belly. This time her knee kept bobbing up and down at a tremendous rate as the lower leg repeatedly straightened to blast shockingly strong kicks that quickly turned my abs to mush and left me gasping with my legs threatening to give way at the knees. The dreadful unexpected barrage stopped and I would have collapsed to the floor if she hadn’t held me up by the roots of my hair.
“Didn’t your mummy warn you about women who wear black saris?” she sneered.
Before I could catch my breathe to respond, the girl’s right knee began pumping up and down making my body jerk along with it. I couldn’t stop creasing forwards under the furious non-stop pounding of the knee of the little girl in a black sari. Out the corner of my eye I saw the men laughing. I wanted to call them for help but it was so humiliating to be beaten helpless by a petite woman and I didn’t even have the breath to do so even if I’d wanted to! Unable to hold my breath in my cheeks ballooned while my gut continually rode this girl’s ever-moving knee until the pressure got too much and escaped in a loud noisy rush from my mouth. The lovely in the black sari continued to drive that knee right in deep into my airless gut while I jerked up and down onto my toes with each brutal blow. Feeling faint with the lack of drawing in air and with great shame I had to use my fingers to signal the men to stop her.
I fell like a rock to the floor gasping for breathe as the girl let go of my hair. Hassan came at her with an overhead stab with a wickedly serrated knife, his smirk at me telling me what he thought of my failure to handle a mere girl. She showed aloof disdain as she quickly blocked his knife hand with a forearm then repeatedly powered a dainty fist against his belly as if it were a punch-bag. He had good abs but the little girl’s punches were remarkably fast and strong, solidly pounding his gut, not allowing him to draw breathe. So much for his abs, the girl was pounding them flat! I was horrified to see her fist drill deeper and deeper each time with his body slowly creasing forwards with an agonised expression on his face which was turning a nasty shade of red. His face was one of despair and his legs began to wobble. How could he let a mere slip of a girl beat him up!
I had to smirk as Gurgit came to his rescue, stepping forwards to wrap his arms around the Sari-clad girl. In shock I saw her spread her legs then leant forward to grab his right leg around the knee and pulled it forwards sending him to his backside behind her. My balls ached in sympathy as the witch followed up with a nasty back-stomp to his groin which had him howling like a wounded dog.
Two of the other men approached her from behind. The bitch barely spared them a glance with mocking smirk. Without pause and showing no concern, the petite girl spun around with her right leg lifting the hem of the sari high. The lovely bare leg climbed rapidly higher as she turned, then in the blink of an eye the sole of her foot pounded his face. His head jerked back hard and he instantly fell backwards, seemingly unconscious and crashed upon the floor.
The other man had reached her side and tried to feel her backside. Barely returning to the floor, the girl’s sexy right leg took off like a rocket, soaring high from the sari. Suddenly it swept sideways to blast the side of the man’s head like a club. I saw his eyes glaze over and spittle fly from his mouth as he too fell to the floor.
A third man tried to punch her from the side but her flexible bare leg flashed out in a side-kick that drove her foot right into his belly lifting him onto the toes of his feet with an expression of agony. He staggered back gasping and clutching his belly but the hem of the girl’s sari was rising again. Soaring to a remarkable height that sent her foot incredibly high above the man’s head, it suddenly came down fast with the back of her heel hammering the back of his neck. His head snapped back sharply onto his shoulders with a grimace on his face as went down face-first to the floor then lay still. I was mortified by how competently the young girl in a sari was devastating my men!
Without pause the girl spun back to Hassan, who had recovered and was approaching her with murder in mind. Her swung a fist but she nimbly ducked under it then bobbed back up with a dainty fist hammering a punch to his temple. He looked dazed as she then grabbed his head and pulled it down towards her as the sari flicked up repeatedly, as standing on her left toes with hard-flexed calves, her right knee rocketed high to slam into his face several times like a fighting machine with a nasty crunch of bone and blood spewing from his nose. Finally he could take no more and dropped limply to the floor in disgrace.
How could such a sweet-faced youthful looking petite young woman fight like that? After my humiliation by her in front of my men I needed to recover my authority. Still with a sore belly I got up to confront the sari-clad bitch and raised my fists to take her down. I was amused when she mirrored my pose.
“I was regional boxing champion unbeaten for many years,” I sneered and stepped closer to throw a knockout punch.
To my astonishment her right hand flew towards me with her fingers straight and stabbed my clavicle. The pain was tremendous, like I was having a heart attack! How could she do that? why hadn’t she broken her fingers? She must have fingers like steel and it felt it! Another lighting-fast finger-strike flashed towards me and stiff fingers jabbed into my throat right against my Adam’s apple like a spear. My head jerked back as a croak left my lips with a constriction in my throat like I had swallowed an apple. In horror I realised that she knew Kalitsu! the forbidden Indian martial art that can kill, maim and utterly destroy a man. The young demon in the black sari faced me with a cruel smile and both hands raised shaped like blades with a chilling confidence that she knew how to use them.
“The Goddess Anahita gave Indian women the unarmed fighting arts long before male soldiers of other races stole the idea,” the deceptively dangerous girl said.
In desperation I launched a punch of my own towards her face but, with shocking speed and a superior smirk, she caught my wrist then pulled my arm straight and drove her fingertips into the inside of my elbow. The sharp lancing pain burning through the nerves of my arm before it went numb made me want to scream but only horrid croaks left my lips.
“Want to play some more?” she said with a chilling smile before repeated this with my left arm.
In horror I found both arms hanging uselessly by my sides.
To my relief I saw Gurgit rise, he’ll sort her out. He approached from behind her while her eyes were locked on mine. Taking her by surprise, he launched a tornado of punches and kicks that battered the girl, driving her across the room until she fell to the floor.
“You’re just a girl,” he laughed. “I’ll soon knock you out then bang your brains out,” he smirked, standing over her.
She lay on her back, showing no fear with the hem of the skirt around her hips in the most eye-catching manner which showed off her well-toned legs and flaring calves. As his knee rose, her right leg flashed up to kick the back of his lower leg as it was about to stomp down. The kick knocked his descending foot out missing her head and throwing him off-balance. The leg pulsed out again towards his other leg, kicking it away from beneath him and sending him tumbling to the floor. Fortunately Gurgit was agile and rolled on the floor before springing up onto both feet only to find the girl also leaping to her feet in a very nimble manner.
Immediately Gurgit blasts another kick speeding towards the girl’s head which she narrowly avoided. Before his foot returned to the floor, she ran behind him then spun around to face his back. To my utter amazement the sari-clad girl leapt incredibly high into the air extending her legs before her. Her small feet slammed hard into the middle of his back sending him staggering forwards but he managed not to fall. Spinning around to face her, he was visibly shocked to find the battered young woman in a black sari running towards him. Too occupied staring at her bouncing bust, he reacted too slow when she suddenly jumped onto her left foot with the right leg lifting as she leapt once more. Leaping high like a gazelle, unencumbered by her sari which draped down elegantly, her right leg began to straighten with the left leg tucked neatly beneath her. It seemed for a second that the young woman was flying through the air with her right leg leading like a missile. The next second, her dainty right foot collided with Gurgit’s chest with a glimpse of strongly flexed calve muscles and a dreadfully solid sound for a woman so young, petite and feminine. Gurgit grunted loudly and screwed up his face in agony as the unexpected force of the kick sent him sprawling backwards to fall upon his back on the floor.
As the young woman in the sari approached Gurgit, teasing him with a slinky manner of walking, another man blocked her way.
“I don’t need your help,” Gurgit cried angrily. “I will beat her and have her on my own.”
“I’m having her,” the other man declared and threw a punch.
The petite girl caught his wrist with ease and used it to spin him around, yelping in agony while she bent his hand right back. With a superior looking smirk, she brought her right hand down with the fingers extended like a claw upon his right shoulders at the join with his neck. Pinching the arteries at the base of his neck, he looked alarmed with his eyes rolling up inside his eyelids, his mouth wide in a silent scream while frothing at the mouth. Within seconds his head was rolling uncontrollably, clearly out on his feet before the dangerous young woman let go and he collapsed limply to the floor.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.