The big vocalise truck drove slowly through the big arched gateway. The number one wood carefully kept the bike away from the railroad line tracks as he drove into the old wartime transit camp.

Two uniformed guards closed the big wooden Bill Gates behind it. The driver stopped and jumped down from the cab."Raus !"he shouted,"Everybody out !"He unlocked the arse doors and swing them open..

Anxious faces peered out over the boxes in the backrest of the semitrailer."Out, Raus !"the uniformed guards shouted as stood waiting rifles in hand.

Frightened blur Arab faces, shopworn and athirst after the long journey along Autobahn and Autoroute. Confused by the language and uniforms. They had expected to come in England.

One by one the vernal men and char put their hands up. They jumped down off the high political platform. The adult female in all enveloping black-market robes sat on the edge of the doorway and swung elegantly down, the men just jumped down onto the tarmac.

"We have arrived,"the number one wood announced as he wandered around to the spinal column of the vehicle."Sorry, couldn't make Dover, but we came here instead,"he apologised.

"But we paid to go for England !"a woman shouted her vocalisation coming from a one-armed bandit in the front of her all enfold inglorious robe.

"And paid very well thank you,"the device driver laughed. The guard duty smiled broadly at the joke.

They stood blinking in the sunlight, looking for a way to get by. They peered at the triple rows of 2 metre high mesh fencing material topped with barbed wire which surrounded the compound. grandiloquent watch towers with powerful search lightness stood at each corner and a tenacious row of wooden field hut stood a trivial way inside the wire. One prominent hut bombastic than the balance sported a marvelous brick chimney.

Heinrich Waldheim strode across the tarmac clipboard in his hand. He looked faintly derisory in his Germanic suit with Homberg hat as he stood by the truck."right field, two lineage, men to the left over women to the right,"he shouted."Have your papers ready and we shall have you processed as soon as we can."He pointed to the office doors marked with male and female symbols.

Abdul looked at his friend, “"What does he mean processed ?"he asked.

"What does he mean papers ?"Mustafa replied with a shrug

"What you mean processed ?"Abdul demanded.

"We check your contingent and see if you are suitable, it is a formality no more, we have almost no reject, slacken my friend,"Waldheim assured him.

"What for ?"Abdul demanded,"What is the chimney !"Abdul asked pointing to the grandiloquent smoking chimney towering over one of the huts.

"That is the pie manufactory, some of you will go there, those with no papers, others will play in the town."

There were only three women, Waldheim looked at the formless bootleg robes and imagined the nubile pale Virgo within, he also remembered the bearded Arabian they found dressed as a cleaning lady the previous week, he smiled to himself, the guy wouldn't try that again.

Abdul followed the focus, he clutched his haversack containing all his temporal goodness.

He waited as his companions explained why they had no papers and were sent through to the next office.

Alain Descartes wore a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck, and listened patiently as Abdul lied fluently that he was Italian and had his theme stolen. He stamped Abdul's form"Pending"and sent him through to Herr Lindermann in the next way

"The doc will see you in a moment but start we must check your height and weigh you and then you must take a shower,"Herr Lindermann instructed,"Stand here please, '' he said indicating the weighing machine, and then as he wrote the weightiness and estimated the height he announced"Shower room 4 is free."

Abdul went in, there was a ringlet on the door, pegs for clothes and a cascade cubicle. He checked the piss, it was warm. He felt dirty. He undressed. He stepped into the shower. He pulled the door closed. He did wonder for an heartbeat why the threshold was so self-colored, why it had a rubberise seal but it never occurred to him that it was in fact soundproof. He was too pertain with taking a exhibitioner which he certainly needed after his foresighted journey in the truck.

Lindermann watched a monitor, he saw Abdul tone into the shower and as he closed the cubicle door, Lindermann flicked a switch.

Abdul's cosmos disintegrated. The shower tray swung downwards and he dropped ten understructure into darkness. Something was moving, squashing his feet as it revolved. He screamed but no one heard him in the soundproofed gibe. He was slipping down. Something crushed his ankles. He screamed again. He clutched for something to sweep himself up with but there was nothing.

The machine was fully automated, two interlocking one m diam one beat wide gear wheels pulled his body down crushing his feet and lower legs, then a horizontal steel came across to sever his psyche and fight his body over. It then paused while the water and whoreson drained away before restarting to beat out the rest of the trunk. Smaller gear wheels then crushed the bones and anatomy into paste and this passed along an augur to a machine which mixed the library paste thoroughly and divided it into 1 kg portions.

Abdul's world stopped at 21.36:20, we don't know what his conclusion cerebration were, but his brain landed in the chief crusher at that precise time and the simple machine split his skull precisely along the centreline to extract his head intact.

Two bored technicians Edmund Schultz and Kurt Ratchenheim watched porn and occasionally checked a monitor but the precision made"Kim Jung Un, '' machinery whirred faultlessly, which was fortunate as the education were in Korean and none of the technicians could read them.

The automobile paused with the torso lying sideways, its muscles relaxed and waste product drained away channelled into a severalise chamber away from the flesh bloodline and bone.

The outgrowth continued, brawny water jets washed the waste away and the gears started again, crushing his upper thighs and as it approached his hips a razor sharp blade swung out between his pegleg, impacting behind he root of his cock and removing his tool and formal before swinging away again allowing his genital organ to drop into a refrigerate chamber for future use.

Abdul was farseeing abruptly. His soul wandered aimlessly around nether region trying to find somewhere to cool down. He tried to get into Christian Shangri-la but St Peter told him to hop it as he wasn't Christian, and couldn't get in Moslem heaven as his psyche and consistence weren't buried together and anyway the only if virgins they had were 90 year old conical buoy so he was pretty much stuffed

"Nearly a trolley car broad,"Schultz observed,"Your turn I think."

"Ja, I need to stretch my ramification,"his colleague agreed and he went to lade the trolley.

Kurt pulled on his impertinent green boilers suit with"Denzil Penwithers Kornisch Pastise Werke Koln."emblazoned on the back and started to debase the 1 kg trays of human pie filling into the refrigerated trolley car. He closed the doors tightly and waving to Edmund he set off on the curt walk along the tunnel to the pie factory.

For the women it was dissimilar, out of deference a lady Doctor examined them, if they were fit they went to the ladies shower room, if they were old and ugly they joined the men in the pie filling machine.

Amina was beautiful,"Take a shower,"Dr Helga Mengele suggested,"Then I examine you properly."

Amina locked the cascade room threshold behind her. She undressed and hung her robe and underwear on the peg provided and then stepped into the booth. She turned the tap and warm water cascaded over her.

Helga watched Amina on the varan, she liked what she saw, nice pear tree shaped boob, decent length wickedness hair, not too ugly, she stepped into the rain shower elbow room, the lock was simply a silent person, and scooped up Amina's clothes.

Amina was oblivious to this as the cubicle walls were opaque she did not realise anything was wrongfulness until she tried to open the door.

"Hey !"she shouted.

Helga let her out,"Now I examine you,"she said,"Sit down and show me your have intercourse hole."

"No, where are my clothes ?"Amina demanded.

"Burned,"Helga said apologetically,"Fill of lice, disgusting. Now delight your fuck hole, your slit. Show me, has it been cut ?"

"Yes, I am no whore !"Amina said forcibly.

"You take it up the ass and absorb men off then do you ?"Helga asked.

"No !"Amina protested,"I am pure char !"

"Oh beloved, and I had a pin-up flat for you in London,"she sighed.

"In London, a flat and a job ?"Amina asked.

"Oh yes, a nice flat where gentlemen can fare and lie with you. It is in Lewisham,"Helga explained."You do a week breeding in Amsterdam on the streets and then we take you to London."

"As a whore,"Amina queried."You expect me to work as a whore ?"

"Oh yes,"Helga explained, I know a very good plastic sawbones who can sort your hump backtalk. He does all the royal stag princesses from the Gulf when they go university and cuts them again when they want to marry."

"Where are the others ?"Amina asked.

"piece of tail hole first, then we take you to see your friends."Helga suggested.

Amina sat down and bashfully let Helga ease her thighs apart."Oh lamb,"Helga sighed as she saw Amina's poor damaged pussy."This is going to hurt."

Helga ran her digit along Amina'disfigured cunt sass. The lips had been cut by a paedophile back in Syrian Arab Republic many year earlier and made even a gentle jacking off painful, though, luckily Amina's clit was still intact.

"Relax liebchen,"Helga cooed and she tenderly kissed Amina's face. She caressed Amina's left white meat. Sucked her left teat and kissed her cheek again. Slowly Amina's cunt moistened and Helga eased her index finger fingerbreadth between Amina's fuck lips.

Amina winced in botheration, but Helga kept her finger inside her, probing easing further into Amina's fast virgin fuck pickle. Helga smiled and took a yearn lose weight dildo, not often thicker than a fountain pen from her pocket and slipping her finger out she slipped it inside Amina's cunt.

Amina cried, maybe it ripped her hymen. Helga didn't concern. The dildo had a valve on the end. Helga had a gas cylinder attached already, a tiny cylinder pressed to 20 bar. She twisted the cylinder and Amina screamed as the dildo expanded to four times its size, stretching her cunt like she had a big buck negro's peter bass inside her. She wailed and passed out.

Amina woke. Her cunt was on blast. An agonising intense ache. She had never experienced anything like it before, and never wanted to again. She looked around. She was lying on the floor in a small way, a cell perhaps.

There was a bed and a chair, nothing else. She was completely naked except for a radiocarpal joint set. It was lovesome. Her cunt was filled by a immense dildo. She tried to extract it out but it was bigger inside her than where it went through her cunt lips. She remembered how Helga had inflated it.

Amina looked for her clothes. There were none. She shouted. No one came. She stood up. The dildo chafed horribly. She sat on the bed. The dildo pushed further into her. She gasped.

A wave of pleasure sent shiver through her. She forgot the excruciation. She gently humped up and down on the dildo. Her cunt was so wet. ‘ God forgive me'she thought as she started to hump even harder.

She looked down, the moisture was red. She was bleeding. Her poor distorted snatch lip had split. She wanted to kibosh but something compelled her to bear on humping. Suddenly she heard her own voice shouting"Yes ! '' Glorious waved of relief and release swept over her.

"Ohhhhh,"she shuddered and Helga walked in.

"Well you certainly are a batch,"Helga opined as she walked in,"I think you are now very nearly a woman."

Amina's cunt lip were bleeding. Her cunt was bleeding but she felt good. Too respectable, Guiltily good.

"My champion will soon have you stitched up,"Helga promised.

Abdul was already well on the way to England, he was part of a good deal of Halal Pasties being sent to William Bradford and was being heated in the ovens. Other parts of him were being used for pig nutrient and fertiliser. His cock was part of a plenty destined for a sex reassignment clinic in Dutch capital and his testicle were part of a batch being sent to Republic of Tunisia. tourist were told the Bedouin liked to have human chunk on a string around their necks, but in fact it was the tourists who bought them for $ 20 plus local taxis as keepsake !

Helga handed Amina a yellowed backless minidress."Your uniform, in street you wear it, working you put it on backwards so your tits hang out,"she explained.

"I am not a whore !"Amina swore as bloodline dripped down her leg.

"Of course you are a whore,"Helga snapped,"Why you wanked until you bled. Do not worry you will have plenty of rooster soon enough."

"I will not hold out it !"Amina insisted.

"Then go naked !"Helga laughed,"And go hungry."

"I should rather starve,"Amina replied.

Amina waited until Helga was gone, she touched the Minidress, held it against herself and put it on, then in a consequence of mischievousness she put it on backwards so her tits flopped out.

"Very pretty my dear,"Herr Waldheim complemented her as he walked in.

"Get out !"Amina screamed.

"Delightful teat my dear,"he complimented her."Smaller than your ally but very pretty.

"Out !"she wailed.

"Would you like to eat ?"he asked.

"Just a little fuck and you can ingest a endearing repast,"he added.

"No !"she refused,"I should rather die."

"It can be arranged,"he agreed."I shall be back when you are really hungry."

Herr Waldheim sadly walked away but cheered up when he met Walter Miller in the corridor."How you doing ?"he asked his old buddy.

"Not so bad, you want to watch the video recording ?"Walt asked.

"Ja, why not !"Waldheim agreed.

"haven't seen it myself yet,"Walt admitted,"Why don't we get a few beers and watch it tonight ?"

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Walt had a six camp of Budweiser, Kurt Waldheim Carlsberg, Anton DuBois a bottle of white Burgundy and they sat in the office waiting for the TV to set about on the big screen.

The natural action started with recruits being interviewed. The interviewer's face was never seen but the recruits were easily identifiable.

"You know you might die for the jehad ?"they were asked.

One shook his mind,"I wish to live to fight,"he said so they rejected him.

eighter from Decatur unseasoned Arab men passed the interview. The scene changed, a woodland clearing. A wooden hut. Men with stab guns.

An volatile vest, a Young Arab slips it on. He walks up and down. He puts his jacket and shirt over it."Don't look so hangdog,"he is told.

"Walk about outside."

The Loretta Young man walks up the timberland way of life,"Oi Paki !"someone shouts.

He turns angrily seeking his tormentor,"Say Hi to Mohammet for me !"the guy says.

He sees his tormentor. A man in Army fatigues, with various to a greater extent similarly dressed men. He stared uncomprehending.

A man with a child's tuner ascendence sent a command to Abdul's explosive vest.

Abdul felt the infliction briefly before everything went black.

"Bingo !"Sgt ‘ Pongo'Pink laughed as a puff of blue smoke erupted around Abdul's waist. His jacket flew unresolved scattering liner and frame and spot of explosive belt over a fifty yard r. His legs stood still or various seconds. His his pass and berm were thrown several base skywards. Everything from his speed second joint to his armpits was blown sideways over the 50 cubic yard radius. Finally his head and theatrical role of his acantha landed.

A soldier held up a bit. 5 and another held two 5.5 while a third base agreed with 5.

"So that's a five for style,"genus Pongo laughed."Commitment ?"he asked

Three 10s were displayed."Fucking half-wit !"Pongo laughed."Let the dogs out someone."

"Nein, that was not a ten !"Waldheim declared.

"More like a six than a nine,"Alton Glenn Miller laughed."What an idiot !"

The camera cut away and returned as night fell. A red fox was gnawing on a human leg bone while a Rotweiller was eating a lump of form. Two soldiers were taking it in turns tossing Abdul's head through a basketball game hoop.

An Arab appeared from a wooden shed."Hey !"he shouted."What are you doing ?"

There was a muffled sally as the five pounds of semtex hidden up his ass exploded blowing his body to twice its usual sizing before his tee shirt jeans and skin tear. ancestry and mother fucker and ivory blasted upwards and outwards scaring the fox away. The head word rolled maybe 20 thou. The Rotweiller just looked bored.

The video continued. Six more men were blown up in the clearing. One blew himself up outside Bradford railway station, during the rush hour on the Zebra crossing. A muffled fling, a drag of smoke and his dead body in two percentage, the pegleg on the black and white-hot markings. His foreland and shoulders on the bonnet of a Skoda Favorit. The camera panned to a 'Woman'in an all enveloping robe giving a ovolo up while holding a mobile phone.

The footage changed to a TV canal,"Fortunately no one was hurt,"the announcer said over footage of the man being stretchered away with his head missing.

"Is goot ja ?"someone commented

"Only if YouTube show it."

"Could go Viral."

"Cunts in a logical argument is next, twelve fuckers going up in successiveness,"Glenn Miller announced.

XII suicide bombers, explosive vested with supererogatory semtex up their asses walk across Westminster bridge towards sevens. The traffic stops. A police force car ringlet slowly towards them."Put your hands up,"echoes from the loudspeaker."We know you are ISIL helper, give yourselves up."

deal rose and as one the first and last in line exploded. Then another and another.

Heads and shoulders flying skywards. ft and legs standing for a few bit. Looks of dead mental rejection from the men as their supporter exploded.

Big Ben showed 2.05. A Transit van stopped. A squad of men emerged. biological suits. A garbage motortruck stopped. Body parts thrown in, everything except the heads which were put in bin liners and thrown in the back of the Transit. 2.08 a Fire hand truck moved in, hosing the bridge with its body of water cannon. 2.15 normality returned.

A brigadier appeared on screen."I'm not a real brigadier general,"he said,"But I did play Colonel Melchett in a show at the Appollo, Ealing Great White Way. What you have just seen is several very dolt young men being blown up safely. They wanted to die for ISIL so we obliged. They did not recognise their explosive waistcoat were radio controlled, but if they had any brains they wouldn't have wanted to die, would they ?"

"The vests come in several translation, the ‘ British capital'requires three dissimilar fluid telephone calls within five minutes, two to arm, and one to fire. The ‘ glade'simply uses a radio receiver control decoder from a example aircraft."

"Is good ja ?"someone shouted changing the mood.

===========================================================

Amina's resolve failed much sooner than she expected. Two days. Her throat was dry like the Gobi Desert desert."Ok !"she shouted,"You win."No one came.

"I fuck, OK ?"she shouted.

Heinrich Waldheim opened her cell door. Amina faced him, her dress reversed. Her pap hanging out."I fuck, I must drink,"she announced.

"I get a drinking,"he agreed.

Amina gulped the liquid greedily, unaware it was 25 % Vodka. Her thinker swam pleasantly. She barely noticed Kurt lifting her onto the bed. She had a brief infliction as his abruptly fat cock slid into her cunt but she was yesteryear caring.

"Now you are English fille, fucked when inebriate,"Waldheim announced as he fucked her.

It felt in effect, a warm cock pulse. A waving of ardent cum suddenly swam through his hammer and exude deep into Amina's private parts.

"Ohhhhh,"Amina sighed,"Soooooo good."

Waldheim climbed off her and zipped up his knickers

"Over already ?"Amina asked as she stared drunkenly at him.

"I can get soul,"he offered.

"Please,"Amina said drunkenly.

Walt moth miller was next. Amina smiled as he shoved his meat in her spite and bleeding fuck hole. She was far too drunk to care.

She never realised Schultz and Grosjean two of the guards had fucked her after Walt finished until she saw the video on PornoTuba Italia later.

She wondered why her ass hurt, but seeing herself on the video sitting on Schutz's lap with his cock up her ass while Grosjean fucked her cunt sort of explained things.

=======================================================

Amina woke with a hangover. Her head was bursting. Her slit and ass were on firing. Her poor people elongate cunt. She explored the impairment, her finger's breadth slipped inside, it felt squeamish, very nice. Soon she had three fingers inside herself. Wanking. Her first-class honours degree proper wank. She wanted a peter and fit into tears. She knew she had let everybody down. Her Parents. The Imman. Everyone. She had fucked for money she had become a whore.

Helga came to see her."From now you fuck for food, OK ?"

"Please no."Amina pleaded.

"Or wank till you cum while someone watch,"Helga suggested.

"Oh,"Amina agreed.

"Not now."Helga advised.

Amina had not really realised she was wanking as she fingered her cunt.

"You are doing very well, soon you will be an English slut,"Helga advised,"Make us batch of money with your hot closely fuck hole and pixilated Brown University ass."

"Am I going to England ?"Amina asked.

"Of path,"Helga replied,"The boy are there already."

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Postscript

Jenny Bradstock bought Abdul's left bollock off a cubicle in capital of Tunisia and Lily Cartwright bought the former. Heather Ramprakash bought a Pastie with most of Abdul's kidneys from a street corner shop in William Bradford, while Mandela and Barma, Ted Oakhursts pet pigs ate the bad part of his bowel which went for pig food. His shaft tegument was a full friction match for Tanya who is now Tony, so it is not fair to say Abdul's lifespan was wasted .