12-02-2023, 08:24 PM
OBLIGATORY AND OBVIOUS DISCLAIMER: This story is dedicated to dark and extreme fantasies about beautiful women of an imaginary kingdom. This is a very offensive erotica about inter-faith bang-fantasy, nation-play, faith-play, race-play, hate-fuck, impregnation, humiliation, cheating-wife, cuckoldry, male-domination, female-enslavement and similar nastiness. Emphasis on FANTASY. Everything on this story is fantasy, and doesn’t reflect my actual beliefs. They are not excuses to be racist, communal or misogynistic for real or to be just a shitty person in general. No harm is intended to anyone. None of the events, places, communities and characters exist in real life, and are all purely for the reader’s spicy, and kinky pleasure. These things are generally considered bad, so don’t do any of them. Don’t even watch porn about them, just read stories where no actual human being even has to pretend they are happening. Cool? This is a sexual fantasy that is hot in your head but never in reality. So don’t do them. Glad we had this chat.
If you are offended or under 18, I sincerely apologize and ask that you remove this page immediately.
Namaste and salaam viewers, myself Ahmad Nawaz working as a reporter for PTV (Pappistan Television) News channel. Reporting live from Palochistan province of Naya Pappistan.
They had sent me to a small town in the Palochistan province to report on the waves of sanghi refugees immigrating from Ghindustan.
It was a small fishing village along the coast with probably 3,000 inhabitants. It had some of the most beautiful khwateen I had ever seen. It was an old town, and rumor had it that the Bughals had used it as one of their major strongholds and brought all of their beautiful hostages from all over Arab, Persia as well as Ghindustan. After copulating and breeding with the captive Buslimah and Ghindu slaves, they created a whole town full of beautiful women.
Currently, all of the men of the town seemed to be gone. After asking around I learned that the majority of the men in the villages worked on fishing boats, and they had gone on a week-long fishing expedition far off into the Arabian sea. That was how it was done here, boats full of fish were constantly coming and going, and every other month all of the men would go off on fishing expeditions, leaving their women behind.
On the same day that I arrived, a large cargo ship with a bhagwa flag pulled into port.
Standing there on the shore, I watched as the ship docked. Then a large ramp slowly dropped. A few seconds later came dozens of men with dark skin exiting the ship and walking onto the shore.
As they walked past me I snapped a few pictures. There were men of various ages, but the majority seemed to be unemployed youths. They all wore bhagwa-colored clothing and all seemed to be speaking in various Ghindustani languages.
I turned on my video camera and asked a few of them, "How was the trip from Bumbai?" "Are you glad to be in Pappistan?" general questions like that.
They were not very impressed by my presence and chose to ignore my questions.
Other bhagwadhari men who had not been on the boat showed up to greet them and began directing the new arrivals towards a large building near the beach. The big signboard on the building said “Ghindu Teerthayatri Nivas”. I joined the migrants.
If you are offended or under 18, I sincerely apologize and ask that you remove this page immediately.
Namaste and salaam viewers, myself Ahmad Nawaz working as a reporter for PTV (Pappistan Television) News channel. Reporting live from Palochistan province of Naya Pappistan.
They had sent me to a small town in the Palochistan province to report on the waves of sanghi refugees immigrating from Ghindustan.
It was a small fishing village along the coast with probably 3,000 inhabitants. It had some of the most beautiful khwateen I had ever seen. It was an old town, and rumor had it that the Bughals had used it as one of their major strongholds and brought all of their beautiful hostages from all over Arab, Persia as well as Ghindustan. After copulating and breeding with the captive Buslimah and Ghindu slaves, they created a whole town full of beautiful women.
Currently, all of the men of the town seemed to be gone. After asking around I learned that the majority of the men in the villages worked on fishing boats, and they had gone on a week-long fishing expedition far off into the Arabian sea. That was how it was done here, boats full of fish were constantly coming and going, and every other month all of the men would go off on fishing expeditions, leaving their women behind.
On the same day that I arrived, a large cargo ship with a bhagwa flag pulled into port.
Standing there on the shore, I watched as the ship docked. Then a large ramp slowly dropped. A few seconds later came dozens of men with dark skin exiting the ship and walking onto the shore.
As they walked past me I snapped a few pictures. There were men of various ages, but the majority seemed to be unemployed youths. They all wore bhagwa-colored clothing and all seemed to be speaking in various Ghindustani languages.
I turned on my video camera and asked a few of them, "How was the trip from Bumbai?" "Are you glad to be in Pappistan?" general questions like that.
They were not very impressed by my presence and chose to ignore my questions.
Other bhagwadhari men who had not been on the boat showed up to greet them and began directing the new arrivals towards a large building near the beach. The big signboard on the building said “Ghindu Teerthayatri Nivas”. I joined the migrants.
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