Yantra Protocol
Copyright© 2025 by Tantrayaan
32: The Shattering
Mythology Sex Story: 32: The Shattering - 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
28 August 2000
The phone buzzed once on Priya’s desk, and she grabbed it before the second ring.
“Calling past curfew?” she said, voice half-teasing.
“Hi to you too,” came Bharath’s voice, low and boyishly warm.
She leaned back in the creaky wooden chair. “You sound exhausted. And smug. What’d you three do today - monument-hopping or bed-hopping?”
“Very rude,” he said, laughing. “But fair.”
Priya rolled her eyes. “Spare me the details, Casanova.”
“We had the best day,” he said, ignoring the jab. “You would’ve loved it.”
There was a long exhale on the other end. A quiet joy that made her heart tighten.
“You should have seen Kim’s face when the plane took off...” he continued. “She clutched my arm like a kid and didn’t let go the whole time. She gasped at everything - even the way that the small table rolls back up. She even read the in-flight magazine twice! I don’t think I’ve read it even once all the times I have been on a plane. She forced me to give her half of my food after she ate hers up. It was amazing to see her enjoy herself on the plane!”
Priya smiled softly. “First flight?”
“Yeah. She ordered three glasses of juice just because she could. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that happy to be thirty thousand feet above sea level. It made all of us feel like we were flying for the first time as well. It made us feel how amazing flying really is. Seeing her happy was just awesome!”
Priya went quiet for a moment. “She needed that.”
“Celina too,” Bharath added. “She was smiling more today than I’ve seen in days. She was still watching over her shoulder. I think she is still adjusting to being seen without fear of someone trying to ill-treat her. But ... she was free today/”
Priya closed her eyes. “That’s what you’re doing for them.”
“We’re all doing it,” he said. “Even you.”
She shook her head as if he could see her. “You’re the one holding this strange little family together. Don’t sell yourself short.”
There was a pause.
Then Bharath said, “I’m proud of you, Priya. For everything you’re doing. For how far you’ve come since that you knocked on my door. I don’t say it enough. Thank you for being in our lives.”
Priya blinked fast. “Don’t - don’t start with this hallmark nonsense now.”
“I mean it.”
“You’re making me emotional in the middle of a surveillance shift, idiot.”
He chuckled. “You’re the reason we’re all still safe.”
“You’re the reason I’m still standing.”
Another pause.
Then she said it, quietly but clearly, “I love you. I’m so proud of the man you’re becoming. The boy I met at the market that first day wouldn’t recognize this version of you.”
“I love you too,” Bharath said. “You’ll always be my compass, Priya.”
Priya wiped her eyes on her sleeve and tried to shift the tone. “So. Tomorrow - Amritsar?”
“Yeah. Morning flight. We’ve got the Golden Temple planned, some sightseeing, and probably more ‘fun’ things.”
Priya narrowed her eyes. “Define fun.”
He said nothing.
She snorted. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re stuck with us.”
“Tell my girls I love them. And hydrate between rounds, superstar.”
“Copy that.”
“Goodnight, Bharath.”
“Goodnight, Priya.”
She hung up, stared at the silent feed of Rekha’s flat for a moment ... and smiled. For once, the weight on her shoulders didn’t feel so lonely.
29 August 2000
The morning report was already waiting on Arjun’s desk when he walked in on crisp cream paper. He noted with approval that it was clipped at the corner with no identifying header. The only sign of importance was the way his PA was standing: stiff, quiet, with a steaming cup of tea untouched on the side table.
“Start,” Arjun said, removing his watch and placing it gently on the desk. He took a sip of the tea.
The PA cleared his throat. “Still no word on Bansal, sir. He is confirmed missing on the 20th but there is no trace since.”
Arjun didn’t look up. “And?”
“We swept the clinic twice. The doctors aren’t talking and nurses have gone ‘on leave.’ The girl at reception quit two days ago. Disappeared. We’ve tried monetary pressure, we’ve tried threats but -”
“No one’s talking,” Arjun finished.
“No one,” the PA said.
“And the cleaner?”
“Dead sir. His throat was slit. That was the work of our man. There is no footage, no fingerprints, no alert from the gate.”
Arjun’s fingers tapped slowly on the edge of the desk. “So we lost Bansal. We lost the killer. And we lost the trail.”
The PA swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“And his company?”
“It’s in chaos sir. There is a huge power struggle between his family members to replace him. We feel that one of them must have engineered this strike while he was in the condition he was in. Half their engineers didn’t show up for site work this week. Multiple contracts are stalled. There’s word that their regulatory filings were rejected for the airport tender.”
Arjun finally looked up. His eyes were flat. “So the Syndicate’s entire infrastructure wing is now choking because one man disappeared.”
The PA offered a weak nod. “Some of our junior partners are asking questions. About risk. About stability.”
“Let them,” Arjun said. “The rats will surface when the boat tips.”
The PA opened a second file.
“Rekha remains in place. No signs she’s tried to move. We sabotaged her lift and the Courier surveillance is holding. As predicted, she’s unraveling. She’s constantly drunk and screaming and acting insane. She broke a mirror last night.”
“Did anyone respond?”
“Her maids walked out two days ago and they haven’t returned. She is all alone in the penthouse. There is noone else there.”
“Good.”
“We think her stash is in the apartment for sure sir. We don’t know where it is yet - but we can make her tell us.”
Arjun nodded slowly.
“That’s her crown.”
“Yes, sir.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Let her keep it safe for us. We’ll take it when we need to. Make sure it is not moved.”
The PA hesitated. “Sir ... if Bansal was extracted... and the assassin was neutralized ... there’s a possibility perhaps Rekha is not the one that making the moves here.”
Arjun raised an eyebrow.
“You’re suggesting internal betrayal?”
“I’m saying whoever did this knew the clinic. They knew the layout of the location and knew how to move someone without tripping a single camera or bribed gate.”
Arjun’s face didn’t change.
But something in his jawline stiffened.
“Double the audit teams,” he said. “I want background runs on everyone attached to that clinic and Bansal’s company. Check the tea vendors if you have to. Find the black sheep that could be responsible for this mess with Bansal.”
“And Rekha?”
His voice dropped, cold and final.
“We move as scheduled. We don’t need her. We just need the location of her stash. She is too much of a liability now. No change in orders regarding her.”
The PA hesitated. “Sir ... if the same unknown party that took Bansal is watching her -”
“Let them watch,” Arjun said. “They’ll see what happens to people who forget where their power came from.”
He stood.
“Now get me a full property list. We’re going to need new puppets.”
The phone call started the same way every time - with the sweetest feeling Celina never expected to feel.
“Amma... ”
Sree’s voice melted through the line immediately.
“Kanna! My little tornado. You called without me pestering you today!”
Celina laughed. “I miss your pestering.”
“That’s good. I have plenty in stock for you.”
They both chuckled.
“I just wanted to hear your voice,” Celina said quietly. “We had such a lovely time in Delhi.
It was so amazing. It was not like traveling for our stupid modeling assignments. There is no makeup-chair time, no running around trying to pose in stupid locations with people staring at you. Just ... fruit juice and laughter and trying not to get arrested for indecent exposure at the pool.”
“Ayyo. Did you give the North Indians a heart attack, Celina?”
“I think we gave them collective heatstroke,” Celina replied, grinning. “Even Anya had uncles crashing into chairs trying to follow her with their eyes.”
“Hmph. My girls. Always causing national incidents.”
“I miss it sometimes, though,” she added. “The shoots. The independence. Ordering Thai food at 1 AM without anyone asking questions.”
“So come back to it someday. You haven’t lost anything, kanna. You’ve just started a new chapter.”
Celina’s voice softened. “But even if I lose all that ... being with him, Amma ... it’s worth everything.”
Sree didn’t speak for a moment. “Of course it is. You chose it. And anything chosen with love is never a loss.”
Celina blinked. “He told me what Appa did with my new identity. Sara Khanna. Appa even remembered that passing mention I made once about my father being Haryanvi and my mother Syrian Christian -”
“What? That man can’t remember what I told him about the gas bill last night and suddenly he’s tracing ancestral roots like a history professor?”
They both burst into laughter.
Celina wiped her eyes. “I don’t know how to say it. It’s like ... all the loneliness I’ve been hauling for years just cracked open. Kim. Anya. You. Devi. Bharath. Priya. Appa. It’s not just lust or chaos. It’s something I’ve never experienced in my life, Amma.”
“Then stay there. Wrap yourself in it. You’ve earned it, Celina. You’re brave - braver than you know.”
There was silence for a beat. Then Celina’s voice dipped.
“But Kim...”
“Hmm?”
“She’s ... she has shut down since last night. She barely speaks and keeps crying when she thinks we’re not looking. I don’t know how to help her, Amma.”
Sree’s tone changed - soft but heavy with understanding.
“Because she’s facing what so many of us women face kanna. That awful line between what we owe our families ... and what our heart calls home.”
Celina bit her lip.
“Sometimes, the bravest thing a woman can do is choose one. But she’s still in mid-fall. You don’t need to fix her, kanna. You just need to catch her.”
Celina nodded slowly. “We’re trying. We’re holding her close.”
“That’s all she needs. Let her know she’s not choosing against anyone. Just moving towards finding her true self.”
There was a pause. Then Sree clicked her tongue playfully.
“Also. Tell my useless son he still has one mother in his life who expects a phone call every few days. Just because he has three beautiful women in his arms now doesn’t mean he can forget the woman who birthed those arms.”
Celina burst into giggles. “Amma!”
“What? I raised him well. I’ll remind him personally if I must. On a long-distance scolding.”
“I’ll tell him. Promise.”
“Good girl. You eat properly today. And keep taking care of my big little one.”
“I will. Love you, Amma.”
“Love you too, kanna. Always.”
The map of Ballygunge was splayed out on the war room table, black dots and red pins stabbing across apartments, chokepoints, and taped utility lines. Next to it: grainy printouts of Rekha pacing, drinking, breaking mirrors.
Priya leaned over the blueprint, chewing on a pencil end. Her eyes flicked across the street grid, not seeing just streets - seeing networks, timers, silent watchers.
“There’s still no movement. Also, almost all the curtains are drawn now. We can hardly get any more pictures inside the penthouse,” Nitin muttered from the desk.
Satyu looked up from the printout in his hand. “She’s crumbling. But Arjun’s not closing the deal.”
“Because he doesn’t have to,” Khan, the PI head, said flatly.
A speakerphone on the table clicked once. Hema’s voice came through, clear and low.
“He’s waiting for the perfect moment. He probably wants the body and the files. And if he gets the files first, he may even pull back the kill order and just ruin her socially.”
“Wouldn’t be enough for someone like her,” Satyu muttered.
Priya crossed her arms. “Either way, it’s not moving fast enough.”
“Exactly,” Hema said. “If we keep waiting, we’re the ones who lose.”
Nitin swiveled around. “We’re sitting on confirmed surveillance footage. We have timed movement of the Syndicate teams. We know where the archive is. What we don’t know is when we’ll lose the window.”
Satyu rubbed his temple. “The Syndicate has all the time in the world. We’re the ones with a ticking clock.”
“You said the stash is in her flat?” Hema asked.
“Yes,” Priya said. “In the hidey hole behind the fireplace mirror.”
“She knows it’s her only card.”
Satyu frowned. “If she knows that, she might move it.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Priya replied.
“Then you need to extract it. Now!” Hema said simply.
“We can’t risk open entry,” Nitin said. “There are too many eyes on her penthouse. The Syndicate’s guys are monitoring the penthouse as well. One wrong step and we give ourselves away. So far they haven’t found us - but it is only a matter of time we get noticed. If they bring reinforcements we will have to retreat.”
There was silence for a beat.
Then Khan said, “We do the extraction during a blackout.”
All eyes turned to him.
“We will cut the power to the entire area for a little while. We shut down the transformer. The Syndicate teams will not know what hit them. They will be on the backfoot and we use that window to make our move.”
Satyu raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting we walk in while they think no one else will.”
“No,” Khan said. “I’m suggesting we climb.”
“Through the back?” Hema asked.
“Maintenance pipe,” Nitin said, catching on. “The one near the old fire escape in the alley. It leads up to the third floor, then we go across the AC ducts to the service balcony.”
“You’ve done that before?” Satyu asked.
“Three times,” Khan said. “Once with a knife in my mouth.”
Everyone stared at him.
“Once inside, it will take us five minutes to locate and photograph everything. We try to recover everything. Originals if we can. But even digital copies will explode half the political structure if we time it right.”
“And Rekha?” Nitin asked.
“We will incapacitate Rekha if required while we do everything,” Khan said. “Let the Syndicate finish their business. We just want the stash before they bury it.”
“Fine,” Hema said. “The PI team will coordinate extraction protocol and backup from outside. But I want this done within 12 hours. After that, we pull everyone.”
“Understood,” Priya said.
Satyu reached for the folder again.
“Then let’s find the stash.”
The phone vibrated on the steel desk just as Priya was wiping down her surveillance notes.
“Idiot,” she murmured with affection, answering on the second ring.
“Hey stupid!” came Bharath’s voice, tired, yet giddy with excitement.
“Well?” she said, settling into her chair, bracing for nonsense.
“You need to come here. All of you.”
Priya raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“I’m serious. I don’t care how dangerous it is - this food alone is worth dying for. Priya, I had a paratha that made me see God. Twice.”
She laughed, immediately picturing his expression. “Don’t let Amma hear you say that. She’ll send you jeera water for your digestion and disown you.”
“I’m telling you, this city is magic. The welcome we got? Kim’s whole mohalla came out like we were some parade float. Her mom cried, Priya. We felt like royalty! Kim was in tears. She was so happy to see everyone again. We’ve never seen her so free Priya. Her mother and father are so lovely!”
“I’m already crying just hearing that.”
“And the uncles and the boys here ... my god. They keep following Anya and Celina like teenage boys thinking that we don’t know. One tripped on his own lungi trying to stare at Anya’s sari blouse. It was glorious. Celina and Anya are having the time of their lives teasing them.”
In the background, Priya heard distant giggles and a muffled thwack.
“What was that?”
“Celina just hit me!”
“I’m proud of her.”
“They both keep smacking me whenever I tell the truth about their teasing.”
“Which means they’ll be smacking you till your next birth.”
He laughed, the sound warm and round and real. But the moment it passed, the silence lingered too long.
Priya’s smile faded. “Talk to me.”
He exhaled.
“It’s Kim,” he said.
“What happened?”
“She didn’t tell them about us. About me. Or the girls. Anya ... Anya stepped in and said she and I were a couple. Said Celina was our friend. Kim didn’t even look at us when we walked in. She just ... held her mother and smiled.”
Priya stayed quiet.
“She looked happy, Priya. Like she belonged. Like nothing was missing. I didn’t know she could smile like that when I wasn’t the reason.”
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
“I know.”
But his voice cracked.
“I know. But what if she chooses this? What if she should?”
And now she heard it - the tremble behind the words. The breath that hitched.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Bharath -”
“I want her to have that joy, Priya. Her family. But if she walks away - “ He choked once. “I don’t know if I can take it. I don’t want to hold her back. But letting her go... it’ll kill me.”
A rustle - fabric shifting. Then muffled voices.
“Anya and Celina just hugged me,” he murmured. “They’re holding me now.”
His voice broke fully then. A quiet sob. Not loud. Just that vulnerable gasp that only the truly overwhelmed can give.
Priya closed her eyes.
“You’re not weak Bharath,” she said, firm and soft at once. “You’re just feeling what it means to love someone without control. That’s what makes you you.”
He said nothing.
“I’m proud of you.”
Another breath. Another muffled sob.
“And she loves you. Even if she’s scared. Even if she doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing right now. We’ll hold her. Until she knows.”
“Okay,” he croaked.
“You’re not alone, Bharath. We don’t do alone anymore. You taught us that.”
He sniffled. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
A pause.
Then Priya heard Anya’s voice, “He’s snotting all over my dupatta.”
Celina said, “It’s fine, I’ll burn it later.”
They all laughed, including Priya.
And for a while, it was enough.
“Ten seconds to blackout,” said Nitin, eyes locked on the time-stamped monitor.
In the surveillance van parked three buildings away, Priya clicked her mic on. “Copy that. Confirm building ambient status.”
“Confirmed,” came the reply. “All Syndicate visual feeds are in loop mode. Scramblers are active. Rekha’s flat is dark. External lift is disabled. Interior motion lights dormant.”
“Good,” Satyu said beside her, his fingers dancing over a miniature keyboard. “Moon phase: new. Sky cover: 87%. We’re invisible.”
Priya leaned into the feed, voice steady. “Phase One: deploy smoke wash. Disguise interior visuals.”
The lead operative, lean and silent with his balaclava pulled on tight, released two canisters of non-toxic fog mist along the hallway’s ceiling vents. It clung like vapor, drifting low and silvery under emergency light. From across the corridor, another figure popped the custom diffuser against the outer window. Now the interior camera facing the penthouse entry saw only a blur of smoke and flickering shadows.
“They’ll assume that the power has tripped in the city for everyone,” Nitin said. “We have about ten minutes before they get suspicious and find out that it was tripped intentionally.”
Nitin switched channels. “Phase Two. Entry team, you’re good to go.”
Two operatives, clad in dark fatigues and gripping suction pads, climbed slowly up the emergency shaft. One had a side holster; the other, a bundle of insulated tools strapped across her chest.
At the fifth-floor landing, they reached the maintenance duct Rekha hadn’t noticed in ten years. The first extractor pried open the narrow frame and slipped in like a wraith. Thirty seconds later, both were inside - crouched in complete darkness beside her living room wall.
Rekha was passed out on the velvet couch, an empty whisky bottle still in her hand. Her bangles jingled softly as she stirred in sleep.
The team didn’t breathe. One member of the team moved silently to the cabinet.
Click. Slide.
They had memorized every movement from playback: where she touched. How far she pulled the drawer. The bag was there. They retrieved everything from the bag first to take digital copies. One folder.Two folders. Five folders. Filled to bursting with media but neatly catalogued One cassette bundle. Two photos in plastic sleeves. The team decided there was too much to photograph there in the short time available - so they took the bag and replaced everything so that it looked like the hidey hole was untouched.
“Extraction complete,” whispered the agent on comms. Nitin didn’t exhale - not yet. “Phase Three. Ghost out. Confirm Syndicate vectors.”
Satyu’s eyes flicked across four monitors. “No movement. They’re still looped.”
The exit team retraced steps, one floor down, then out the fire escape. They vanished into the alley just as backup power returned and the building groaned back to life.
Rekha stirred briefly and frowned at the darkness around her.
“Who turned the lights off...”
Then she passed out again.
Nitin laid the bag on the steel table as the contents spilled out...
Everyone stared.
Inside were folders and media that contained names, photos, signatures, records - twenty years of leverage from politicians to police, producers to pimps.
Priya’s voice, when it came, was barely a whisper.
“We have the knife.”
Satyu folded his arms. “Now we just have to decide where to cut.”
30 August 2000
The first thing Rekha registered was the taste of metal in her mouth. The second was the splitting pain behind her eyes. She groaned as she sat up, her silk sari twisted under her thigh, her blouse half undone. Her hair clung to her temples in damp, uneven curls. A dried line of mascara had traced its way down one cheek like warpaint.
The whisky bottle lay on its side, empty, glass lip still pointing at her like an accusation. She reached for the side table, knocked over a coaster, found the water jug - and drank. She didn’t
Sip, she gulped the water down like a woman who had been dragged out to the desert. Her stomach churned. Her throat burned. But it dulled the edge just enough for the fog to thin.