Chapter 3 - Suicide Bombers
Achmed and his men were piously recruiting a few suicide bombers for the
cause. Disguised as Israeli soldiers, he and his fellow zealots urged the pretty
Arab girl into the back alley. His face masked by a black scarf, Achmed briskly
explained the drill to her.
"We want you to remove your clothes. Show us what you have to offer some
hard-working Israeli soldiers. If you cry out for help, your fellow Arabs will
witness your shame and degradation. Depending on how many show up to view your
sexual skills in action, we may kill have a few to keep it all manageable. Those
who survive will be able to attest that you are spoiled goods that no
self-respecting man will touch. Your own relatives may well behead you to save
their honour."
The Arab girl's dark eyes were huge.
"Israeli scum! I would rather die than submit!"
Achmed smirked evilly. Carving the snottiness out of a haughty beauty
was a pleasure as well as a sacred duty.
"We won't kill you! We will simply rip off your clothes and have our way
with you. Afterwards, we will take the tattered remains of your clothing with us
and you will get the challenge of trying to make your way through the city stark
naked. If you co-operate and remove your clothes yourself, we will leave them
with you and they will be in good shape to put on afterwards. You can pretend
like nothing happened! A win-win situation! No hassle afterwards for us or no
beheading for you!"
Jasmine looked at them sullenly.
"You Jews think you are so smart."
"Smart enough to fuck you and get away with it! Do you want me to call
out so that you can have an audience for your degradation?"
He cupped his hand beside his mouth to trumpet out a call. Jasmine's
pretty face twitched nervously.
"No! No! I'll do it!"
Achmed was confident that a woman was unlikely to forget being
gang-banged and raped over thoroughly. Combine rape trauma with a fear of being
unmarried and pregnant in a fiercely repressive society and you had a suicidal
female, a tender rose ripe for the plucking, ready to sacrifice herself
honourably for the cause. He and the boys righteously chose the more independent
females, picked them off when they were alone, as no properly God-fearing woman
should be, and then taught them the error of their ways.
Achmed loved his job. The fun never stopped. He scanned her ID for the
follow-up call by the suicide salesman. Her name was Jasmine. He noted her
address.
The masked men watched with interest as young Jasmine nervously removed
her robes. A raven-haired beauty with large dark eyes, full breasts capped by
big brown nipples, a carefully shaved pubic area, slim legs, a smooth taut belly
- young Jasmine was the perfect rape toy.
They blindfolded her. There was no way that she would mistake the sight
of an uncircumcised Arab cock for a Jewish baldhead.
"It's important to remain silent, you Arab cunt. If you attract
attention now, you can kiss your future good-bye."
Thoroughly cowed, Jasmine was quiet as the tomb as the first rapist
pinned her against a lamppost. Her wrists were handcuffed together behind the
lamppost. Achmed's two buddies, black eyes gleaming, helpfully spread her
shapely legs, preparing her for their act of holy rape. Poor, frightened Jasmine
emitted merely the smallest of gasps as Achmed rammed his way into her tight
virginal cunt, drawing blood. Deeply shocked, she said nothing, moaning softly
as he humped her hard and emptied his seed inside her.
His two eager companions took their turns. Each rammed his way brutally
in, pumping viciously, savagely slamming his hard body against her soft,
yielding one. Hard cocks firehosed oyster juice into her bleeding fuckhole.
They turned her around and handcuffed her facing the lamppost. Blood and
thick scumwads of semen seeped down the inside of her trembling thighs.
Carefully, Achmed wormed his greased fingers into her asshole, drawing sharply
hissed vituperation from his squirming rapetoy.
"Israeli bastard!"
Each anal intruder drew a sharp, horrified gasp as he separated
Jasmine's quivering, milky-white ass globes and helped himself to her
reluctantly proffered rectal delights. Each grinned sadistically as he slipped
his greased sausage into her hard-gripping shithole, pumped vigorously and
emptied himself into her bowels. The Arab virgin was a real tightie.
When they were done, poor Jasmine was sobbing quietly, near hysterical.
Considerately, they rammed a tampon up her cunt to sop up the blood.
Their work of holy terror needed only one last artistic touch.
Achmed heated up the branding iron quickly with a blowtorch. Jasmine
breathed in sharply as the small branding iron hissed against her bare buttock.
Achmed laughed as he admired the Star of David burned indelibly onto her
bright-red bare bun. If that didn't push her over the edge, nothing would.
They pulled up their pants, uncuffed her and tossed Jasmine's clothing
into her tear-stained face, taunting her cruelly.
"Complain all you want to, you Arab cunt! You even have the evidence to
show to any future husband."
Her slender fingers trembled as she fumbled to put her robes back on.
Jasmine's voice was raw with rage as she hissed her hatred.
"Bastard, syphilitic sons of a Jewish camel-whore!"
