Yantra Protocol
Copyright© 2025 by Tantrayaan
26: Lines Crossed
Mythology Sex Story: 26: Lines Crossed - Bharath moves from Chennai to Calcutta to join Heritage City — one of India’s top football clubs — with dreams of becoming a professional footballer. But after rescuing a mysterious man from a robbery, he finds himself drawn into a hidden world of vivid dreams, powerful women, and ancient forces beyond his understanding. As his journey on the pitch grows more intense, so does the pull of something deeper — a path shaped by desire, danger, and a power that is only just beginning to reveal it
Caution: This Mythology Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Mind Control Romantic BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Sports Alternate History Paranormal Magic Sharing Group Sex Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Indian Male Indian Female Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Oral Sex Safe Sex Squirting Tit-Fucking Indian Erotica
26 August 2000
Bharath sat on the edge of his Goa hotel bed, legs dangling, towel still around his neck from the morning shower. The sea air wafted through the half-cracked window, thick with salt and monsoon humidity. But it wasn’t the air that made him feel heavy.
It was the silence.
No Kim’s humming from the bathroom. No Celina dressed in just a t-shirt refusing to get off his lap - even in front of his father. No Priya rolling her eyes at the headlines. No Anya pulling him back into bed and demanding ‘five more minutes’.
He missed them so much his body ached from the memories.
He couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to at least hear their voices again. He dialed the apartment landline. The landline at the apartment ran once, twice...
“Hello?”
Kim’s voice, soft and bright.
His heart lifted listening to his goddess’ voice.
“Hey,” he said, his voice deeper than usual. “Did I wake you?”
“Mmmm ... Good morning jaan. No. We’ve been up for ten minutes. Just lying here. Dreaming about you.”
A shuffle followed. Then Anya: “You’re calling late, birthday boy.”
“It’s not my birthday anymore,” he said with a grin.
“You’re our birthday boy forever,” Celina’s voice chimed in.
They put him on speakerphone, and he listened as all three girls piled onto the bed again. From their laughter, he could tell they were cuddled together under the sheets - and from the pause that followed, he could almost feel their shared ache.
“I miss you,” Kim said.
“Same,” Anya echoed.
Celina’s voice cracked a little. “Even your bad jokes.”
“Excuse you,” Bharath huffed. “I’m hilarious.”
They laughed, and for a moment the distance blurred.
He could hear them now - limbs tangled, laughter muffled by shared covers, the low hum of their closeness. The ache in his chest went from dull to sharp.
“So?” Anya prompted, voice lilting. “Are you just calling to be sad and sexy, or are you going to tell us how the match went?”
Kim gasped. “Oh my god, that’s right. The practice match with Dempo’s first team!”
“Don’t think you’re getting away without a play-by-play,” Celina added. “We need to hear every thigh flex and soul-crushing tackle.”
Bharath laughed, easing back onto the bed and propping one leg up. “You really want the full report?”
Three voices in perfect chorus: “Yes.”
He exhaled slowly. “Okay. But you’re not allowed to judge me.”
“That sounds like a setup for exactly the kind of story we should be judging,” Priya called faintly in the background.
Bharath grinned. “It was supposed to be a light scrimmage. Just a few senior players, no pressure. I wasn’t even nervous. Thought I’d stay clean, move the ball, earn respect quietly.”
“You?” Anya drawled. “Quietly?”
“Shush. I meant it. But then the match started.”
He paused. The moment swelled in the silence.
“It felt ... different. Like something in me had shifted since the dream. I was faster. Sharper. I didn’t even warm up properly, but my body moved like it already knew everything.”
He leaned into the memory. “First touch came to me at center. I flicked it behind me before I even looked. It landed right in the path of the winger. Perfect weight. No overthinking. Just ... flow.”
Celina’s voice softened. “The yantra?”
Bharath nodded. “It wasn’t conscious. It was instinct. But it was more than instinct. I wasn’t reading the game - I was the game. I could hear cleats shift behind me. I felt pressure coming from angles I wasn’t even facing. It was like every breath around me echoed before the players moved.”
Kim let out a breath. “God. That sounds...”
“Terrifying,” Celina finished.
“Exhilarating,” Anya corrected.
“It was both,” Bharath admitted. “One of the Dempo defenders - a big guy, six-foot, hard elbows - charged straight at me. I dropped my shoulder like I was going left, then spun right. He fell. Literally lost his footing.”
“Stop,” Kim whispered. “That’s hot.”
“Then I nutmegged their keeper in the third minute and didn’t even celebrate.”
“You monster,” Anya hissed.
“Honestly,” Bharath continued, “I think I scared the coach. There was this one moment where I flicked the ball up from a bad bounce - heel over shoulder - and volleyed it clean across the pitch, dead into the striker’s run. Even I had to pause.”
“Were they watching you like you had horns?” Celina asked.
“Worse,” he said. “They were watching me like I was cheating. Like I was wrong. And they were right.”
A pause. He lowered his voice.
“I think I let too much through. I had to dial it down in the second half. Missed an easy pass. Took an extra touch. Slowed a run on purpose just to feel ... human.”
There was a hush. Not sad, but reverent.
Then Anya spoke, soft and sly. “So let me get this straight. You ascended on the pitch like some divine midfielder, made grown men reconsider their career paths ... and then had to fake being mortal so they wouldn’t piss themselves?”
Bharath chuckled. “Something like that.”
“Okay, well,” Celina said brightly, “I’m officially so turned on I might burn the bedsheet.”
Kim added, “I have goosebumps and a cramp in my thigh. That can’t be normal.”
“Is it unethical to be horny and proud of him?” Anya asked.
“Not if we use it for good later,” Celina purred.
“You girls are ridiculous,” Bharath murmured, smiling so wide it hurt.
“We’re cold. We’re lonely. We’re in serious spiritual heat,” Anya said. “You think we don’t feel the bond getting stronger? Every time I touch myself now, it’s like there’s electricity in my fingertips. You did this.”
“I miss your mouth,” he said softly.
“You’ll have it again,” Kim promised. “Soon.”
Celina sighed dramatically. “Ugh. We should be in Goa. You should’ve taken us. We could’ve snuck into the stadium. Or the showers.”
“Oh god,” Anya said. “Imagine all of us in sarongs and bikini tops, dripping and giggling while he tries to act like a serious athlete.”
“Stop! Please! I have to go to practice soon. If you continue like this - I will be late and the coach will be angry!”
“Worth it,” they all said together.
Bharath swallowed, heat rising in his neck. “You know ... I’ve got another two days here. But we will be back soon in a couple of weeks again. That week match prep will be light - with no sessions for a couple of days. We’ll even figure out how to sneak Celina onto a flight.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting Mr. Bharath?” Kim’s voice went breathless.
“I could ask Biswas for a couple of days off for sightseeing. He doesn’t need to know you girls are here.”
Celina gasped. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
Anya squealed. “Tell us where to land. We’ll teleport.”
“I’ll set it up,” he promised. “You’ll see the beach, the old quarter, the training pitch. And I’ll show you where I stood. Where the yantra woke up.”
Celina whispered, “I don’t think we’ll have too much time to go sightseeing much Bharath. Do you know how many of my fantasies involve you and a beach?”
Kim murmured, “We’ll anoint every muscle you used.”
Anya grinned, voice thick with longing. “I want to ride the part of you that ruined Dempo’s keeper.”
“Kadavule!” Bharath whispered, his throat dry.
“You need us,” Kim said gently. “To help you stay balanced.”
“I do,” he said. “Every moment away from you feels ... too quiet.”
Another pause.
“Then don’t wait too long,” Celina whispered. “We’re coming, jaan. And when we do...”
“You’ll be reminded exactly why no one can touch you,” Kim finished.
He tried to recover from the visions the girls were painting by forcing the conversation to other topics. He managed to deflect the conversation by asking about their plans. Kim would check in at her hostel and update her supervisor about extended fieldwork. Anya and Priya had meetings all day for Warrior’s new campaign. Celina, quieter, mentioned she’d be working through notes from Kim and some archived material Priya left her.
When it was time to go, he hesitated.
“To each of you,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know how I survived before you. Just ... stay safe. Be happy. You’re my whole world.”
Kim murmured something he couldn’t quite hear.
Anya replied for all of them: “We’ll be waiting, jaan. We love you very much and miss you terribly. Come back to us soon.”
The call ended, and the silence returned.
The three girls sat still for a moment after the click of the phone.
No one spoke.
Then Anya flopped back onto the bed with a groan. “Two whole days...”
“He’s probably more miserable than we are,” Kim said.
Celina nodded. “He’s going to come back needing to be ... reassured.”
Kim smirked. “Oh, we’ll reassure him.”
They giggled, but the ache lingered - under their skin, in their bones.
The apartment felt strange without him.
Still, the day called.
Kim was first to move, brushing out her hair and heading to get dressed.
“I need to be at the hostel by nine,” she said. “I’ll swing by the club library too.”
Celina stretched and stood, gathering her notes from the dining table. “I’ll finish sorting these articles. Maybe cross-reference the yantra patterns again.”
Anya yawned, padding barefoot into the bathroom. “Priya and I need to get through two events, four meetings, and one rehearsal. We’ll probably end up late.”
She paused in the doorway.
“But tonight,” she said, “we make Bharath’s dinner. All of us. Even if he’s not here.”
Kim smiled. “Agreed.”
Celina nodded. “It’ll be like he never left.”
Just as Anya reached for the doorknob, the front door clicked open behind them.
It was Hema
He stepped inside briskly, eyes scanning the room, then softening slightly at the sight of the girls in their morning flurry.
Anya turned. “Uncle? You’re early.”
He closed the door behind him. “Too much happened last night. I thought it best I tell you all in person.”
The calm of morning dimmed.
Kim put down her satchel. Celina dropped her notebook. Priya emerged from the bedroom, already sensing something was off.
Hema remained standing. His voice was measured, but the weight in it was unmistakable.
“A hit on Bansal went live last night,” he said. “Rekha gave the order.”
The silence that followed felt heavy, like the stillness before a monsoon strike.
“We intercepted the message in time,” he continued. “The PI team reached him before the trigger was pulled. But not before he realized he’d been marked. They staged it just enough for him to feel it.”
Celina exhaled in disbelief.
“He’s in our custody now,” Hema said. “Isolated, under care. He’s angry, terrified ... and willing to talk.”
Anya was still frozen in place.
“Rekha ... tried to have him killed?”
Hema nodded slowly. “She’s unraveling. The Syndicate didn’t authorize it.”
Anya had gone pale. “So my mother tried to have someone killed. Again. She’s going to bring everything down on herself...”
“She already has,” Priya said softly.
Anya moved to the table, steadying herself with one hand on the edge. “I need to speak to her.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Kim asked gently.
“She’s my mother,” Anya said. “And she’s dangerous. But if she’s lost control - if she’s threatening lives - I need to know how far she’ll go.”
Hema hesitated. “You don’t have to.”
“I do,” Anya said, reaching for the landline. “And you should all hear it.”
Hema hesitated. “It gets worse. She sent the order without Syndicate approval. There will be consequences.”
Anya stood slowly, fists clenched. “She’s spiraling.”
Celina moved toward her instinctively, but Anya held up a hand. “No. I need to hear it from her.”
Priya looked alarmed. “Anya -”
Anya pressed the buttons with practiced fingers. One ring. Two.
Rekha picked up on the third.
“What?” Her voice was groggy, low.
Anya swallowed. “Maa?”
A pause. Then, suddenly, the sharp laugh of someone already deep into their morning drink.
“Oh look. My prodigal daughter remembers I exist.”
“Maa, I -”
“You what? You thought you could disappear into your little sex cave with your boytoy and I’d just ... what? Wait patiently? Bake cookies?”
“Maa, stop.”
“I gave you everything,” Rekha snapped. “The apartment. The clothes. The career. The goddamn last name. And now you think you’re some warrior princess?”
“I called because I was worried about you.”
Rekha snorted. “Don’t lie. You called because you’re scared. And you should be.”
Anya’s jaw tightened. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Rekha hissed, “that you’re making me look like a fool. And fools don’t survive long in this world. You want to play house? Fine. But if you’re not back in this house by tomorrow morning, I’ll make sure your little dream lover never wakes up again.”
The room went still.
“I will kill him, Anya. And don’t think I haven’t done worse.”
Anya was shaking now, but her voice didn’t break. “You’ll do nothing. Because I’m not scared of you anymore.”
“Oh baby,” Rekha purred, “everyone’s scared of me. That’s how I kept you alive all these years. That’s why people bow when I walk into a room. I built you, and I can unmake you.”
“I’ll never come back to you,” Anya said, her voice steady now. “And if you come near Bharath or anyone I love ... I will burn everything you’ve built.”
Silence.
Then the soft click of the line going dead.
Anya looked at the receiver she had put down with hands that were visibly trembling.
Hema moved closer, but didn’t reach out. “You did well.”
Anya closed her eyes, breathing through her fury.
Kim and Celina circled her gently. Kim pressed her head to Anya’s shoulder, murmuring something in Punjabi. Celina wrapped an arm around her waist.
Priya walked forward and touched her hand, her voice low but full of warmth. “You are not your mother’s shadow.”
Anya nodded - once, shakily - then looked to Hema.
“I know she’s your blood,” he said softly. “But this home is yours now. And you’re my daughter - if you’ll have me.”
Anya’s lip trembled. “Appa...”
He smiled, brief and rare. “There. I’ve said it. You’re my daughter. Now go have breakfast before Priya starts rationing it.”
The tension broke.
Anya buried her face into Kim’s neck and let herself cry. Celina laughed softly, her own eyes wet. Priya covered her face with a hand, wiping at her cheek before she could be seen.
And in that little Calcutta kitchen, as the kettle hissed again and toast popped behind them, something finally settled.
Family. Not forged by blood. But sealed by choice.
The cordless phone clattered onto the floor, but Rekha didn’t care. Her hands were shaking - not from fear. Rage. Raw, vibrating rage.
“Ungrateful little slut,” she spat, reaching blindly for her glass. It was already empty.
She stood, knocking over a tray as she staggered to the bar. The clink of bottles was sharp, musical. She didn’t even bother with a fresh glass - poured the whisky directly from the bottle and took a long pull, her lipstick smearing across the rim.
“She thinks she can hang up on me,” Rekha muttered, pacing barefoot across the cool marble tiles. “Play house with that South Indian street rat. Pretend she’s better than me.”
She stopped near the glass balcony doors, breathing hard.
“She forgets who made her. Who dressed her. Who taught her how to smile at the cameras and slit throats with her charm.”
She turned back toward her desk, shoved aside a folder, and pulled out her Nokia from the drawer. The screen flickered as she scrolled through the message inbox - her movements sloppy, impatient.
Ravi
Her most trusted handler. Efficient. Discreet. Still loyal. Or loyal enough.
Her fingers stabbed the keypad.
REKHA: Need a new job. Immediate.
REKHA: Target: Bharath Hema. Eliminate.
REKHA: Send warning to daughter. No more games.
She paused. Then added:
REKHA: Make it public. Not clean
She stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Then hit Send and exhaled with her full-body. But it didn’t soothe her. Not even a little.