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Ladies and gentlemen, did you honestly think I’d let you down by forgetting to release a new excerpt for my eager followers to voraciously read?! HA! Think again! It’s #SexyTime Friday, so get lubed up for another episode of the romantic adventures of The Brown Knight. And as always, please use coconut oil in moderation.


Please spread the word about http://www.51shadesofbrown to everyone you know! Click on “FOLLOW” at the very bottom, share the site on Facebook, and retweet the link on Twitter. And have you ever wanted to follow an award-winning author on Twitter?! Well you CAN by following @drpablopistola — he might even give you a follow-back, bae!


51 Shades of Brown, (BONUS) Excerpt #35 [Chapter 137] 

Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani could barely contain her bubbling eager anticipation as she walked through the Bangalore city center under the light of the swollen silver moon. She maneuvered through this South Indian metropolis with purpose and conviction. The desperate woman had been given precise instructions on the only way this enticing encounter could achieve consummation, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to blow this chance of a lifetime by being late, which of course her Indian genetics predisposed her to doing. She had never been on time for any event in her life, just like every other Indian in recorded history. Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani needed to overcome her impulse to remain tardy like a typical Indian. It took every ounce of energy to avoid this natural inclination.

I must get to the Royal Hotel of  Bangalore or else I will spend the rest of my life regretting the missed opportunity,” she said to herself “but Oh-My-God, those purses in that store are on sale and they would totally look cute with my sari outfit. Maybe I can stop by and browse their handbag selection for a few min—Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayan, are you crazy?! FOCUS!

purse store

Onlookers in the street witnessed the woman’s torment as her ovaries were commanding her to continue towards the hotel, while her Indian DNA was drawing her towards distractions. Passers-by assumed she had schizophrenia due to her loud argument with herself.  But in her heart of hearts, she knew she needed to regain control of her own mind and body if she ever wanted to experience the pleasure of a climax.


In an instant, she sprinted around the corner and finally arrived at the hotel lobby at the prearranged time of 10pm.

Just hours earlier, she had been browsing her Twitter feed for the latest updates on BJP politics and kama sutra techniques, when her notifications serendipitously alerted her to a message from the twitter handle “@brownknight69” with the simple but direct query “Are you yearning for something more, @kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani?” A few minutes of playful banter ensued, and shortly thereafter, she found herself the recipient of a direct message with a provocative invitation to a clandestine rendezvous at a local posh hotel.

And so here she was, in the Royal Hotel of Bangalore lobby, yearning for the gentle touch of Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram.

hotel lobby

Per his explicit instructions, which included the color of her undergarments which he required, she went to the lobby desk and asked for his code name.

I’m here to see Mr. Brown. Christian Brown.” whispered Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani. The hotel receptionist promptly used a secret telephone line and informed the respondent “Your applicant has arrived.

hotline red phone

Applicant?!” she wondered. “What could be the meaning of this?!

Within a few moments, the Brown Knight’s personal butler approached her in the lobby and handed over a clipboard with papers and a pen.


What’s this?” asked the puzzled Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani.

It’s your contract.” replied the stately Brown Butler.

Contract? Contract for what?” she said.

If you want to gain access to the Brown Knight’s hotel playroom, you’ll need to fill out the necessary paperwork. Please, Ma’am, have a seat” uttered Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram’s underling.

She nervously thumbed the through the thick packet while feverishly writing her answers to questions about her past medical history, allergies, bedroom preferences, and family tree. Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani had to pause on several occasions due to her quivering fingers, as well as the coconut oil smudges obscuring the printed words. The incisive queries probed the depths of her mind, thereby giving the Brown Knight a window to her soul.

Do you prefer to eat mangos with a spoon?  Or do you like get down and dirty and bury your filthy face into the juicy pulp?


What is your favorite position….for sitting? Indian style on a wicker floor mat? Or legs tightly crossed on a wooden stool?

Do you know how to make round rotis?


Does the applicant consent to sensory manipulation, with sensory deprivation (by blindfolding) coupled with sensory stimulation (with hot coconut oil dripping on your skin, and the potent aroma from various curries penetrating your nostrils)?


On and on and on went the questions. He clearly wanted total control of her, and she so desperately wanted to give him what he desired.

When she at last completed the application, she summoned the patiently waiting butler. He then immediately disappeared from the lobby with the documents, leaving behind the hot and bothered Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani for what seemed like an eternity.

But eventually the butler returned, and muttered “Mr. Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram will see you now.

Oh, joy! Her credentials obviously passed muster despite his high standards for women!

The butler guided her into the elevator and directed her towards the Brown Knight’s penthouse hotel suite. He indicated which room to approach before peeling off to his butler quarters.

hotel hallway

Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani knocked her trembling clenched fist against the portal thrice, and gasped as she heard the hotel lock unlatch. The door creaked open, revealing the Brown Knight wearing only an untied leopard pattern silk robe and holding a glass of Courvoisier liqueur which he had been sipping as a night cap.

leopard robeCourvoisier

His exquisite hairy body, which maintained the perfect coating of coconut oil even at this late hour of the night, glistened and reflected her own image with the clarity of a polished mirror. She unabashedly stared at his most tempting protrusion before her, which appeared to grow larger and larger before her very eyes – his glorious oily mustache was more massive than she ever could have imagined.

Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram smiled as she inspected every inch of his exposed body before whispering “Curious? Let’s put the ‘BANG’ in ‘Bangalore, sweet thang.”

Kanupriyakalpanakanishkakalayani devilishly grinned, bit her lower lip, and then entered into the playroom in search of boundless pleasure, as Sri-Sheshadariprativadibayankaram closed the door behind her…

Scroll down to read all 34 archived excerpts (scroll ALL the way down to start your journey at excerpt #1)! You can read more about Dr. Pablo Pistola, the author [@drpablopistola on Twitter), by clicking on the following link:

Dr Pablo Pistola

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About the Author

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Dr Pablo Pistola had become increasingly dissatisfied with satisfaction-based forces in medicine. He felt like a doctor without a purpose. He subsequently embarked on a 7 year twerking quest in the Himalayan foothills to find his true calling. During this journey, he realized that he has a secret talent: his immense knowledge about women. He understands them. Legend has it that he can size up a woman’s soul in a mere instant. He didn’t ask for these powers. But with great powers come great responsibilities. So Dr Pablo Pistola (double-board certified in Love Medicine & Romance Medicine, with fellowship training in Seduction Medicine) has been dabbling in satirical erotic writing. And if satirical erotic writing can offer a viable exit strategy from medicine, then the world will be a better place. His responsibility is to bring the stories of lust to you. He also is an avid life-long Miami Heat fan. Dr Pistola’s medical satire contributions: Twitter: @drpablopistola

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