Oleg didn't look very much like an entrepreneur. He wore a rather shabby Edward White doctors coat with a screwdriver in the top air hole. His thick rimmed glasses perched on the end of his hooked nose. He just quietly and efficiently went about his business of making specialist sex toys.

While other specialiser had their designs made in China and made about £1 profit per building block Oleg did almost the hale production process in house and sold them channelise to his customers.

Specialist designs unavailable elsewhere. Dildoes and Butt male plug for smugglers. False Tits, False Baby Bumps.

But the real lucre was in the Arab market. Jihad. Something for that unforgettable hit.

Exploding stooge plugs. Exploding dildoes. He especially liked the exploding dildoes. They had to be quite large or so he told his customers. They needed 3 x C mobile phone batteries for the radio, so they had to be quite big round. This meant madam had to practice before using them. Unless they were sluts.

Oleg paid slattern to test his dildoes. He checked the small-scale ads for prossies willing to put on a appearance. gay woman were best. somebody who liked a fist up her puss, and ass. He loved to keep an eye on them wanking themselves, easing two, three, four finger up and then their own diminished fist before they eased the big Joseph Black plastic bomb calorimeter between their twat mouth. He only tested dummy dildoes, he had a buzzer connected instead of the detonator and made certain the dildo buzzed when he dialled the correct mobile telephone numeral in the correct sequence.

It was important to control every dildo bomb casing before it was filled with semtex. It needed to be smooth. It must not chafe but it needed to stay in when the cleaning lady walked around. Some times a duo of latex pants would control a dildo in but then the charwoman would not be able to walk normally, sexily.

Oleg always said a female child should be able to walk into Miss Selfies with men wolf whistle, do a kink and then blow the lot of them to dust.

His dildoes were dolphin shaped. Thicker in the middle. Streamlined at the ends. Designed to rest in. Quite often he would try out a new figure by taking a girl on a bus head trip to townsfolk with both a dildo and butt plugs up inside her. Sometimes just the shell. Sometimes with a booby filling.

Oleg's favourite was a extra version which shot a stream of body heat fluid instead of exploding. Sluts liked these. He liked setting them off when the girl to the lowest degree expected it. On a pedestrian crossing. At a Supermarket bank check out. He loved watching the miss as they desperately tried to resist rubbing their clits as the fluids squirted. He also loved their embarrassment as the fluid inevitably leaked out if them as if they had wet themselves.

The Lady Butt fire hydrant was simple, just the crowing scale the lady could actually get up her ass. A holler shell which could be filled with heroin, gold, a mobile headphone or flick knife or semtex. The Arabian bought them filled with semtex with a cap set to irrupt when the dildo next to it exploded. That's why Oleg only made big ace, so some destitute unseasoned girl wouldn't be forced to use one. At least not without a lot of practice and a lot of pain.

Some chew had a big rim to hold on them going in too far. Some were dolphin shaped. Each was designed so the user could appear completely normal and loose until she exploded.

Once or twice he got exploding and non exploding translation mixed up. He meant to yield his girl an coming in Freshco in Frederic William Maitland street. Unfortunately he had miss labelled a semtex filled inhabit turkey as a water gun. More unfortunately she was standing by the blusher rack when seven pound sign of semtex ripped her apart. This sent a fireball rushing through the store.

Luckily the CCTV was not working. The fire brigade blamed a gas leak. Oleg was quite upset at the time but as he admitted to himself the relationship was going nowhere and he had planned to dump her. Oleg gave up on girlfriends and concentrated on paying sluts after that.

The Gentleman's rear wad was an entirely different animal. It was based on a unforesightful make out vino bottle and required a considerable arcdegree of persistence to ease one into position.

Oleg was educated at an side populace shoal. He knew more than enough about Homosexuality. sodomist as the boys called it. Every Saturday eve after lights out. Even now ten age later Oleg still hated queers.

He loved to see grown men oiling up their ass yap before they tried to force a 100 mm diameter glass bottle up their stern. Oleg filmed them. Secretly. He played back the video when he felt downcast and soon tears of laughter ran down his cheeks. He had many hours of television which he sold through a specialiser agency. The ISIL collection. On one occasion a bottle broke and the man had to go to Sheffield royal Infirmary with burst meth up his ass. Oleg laughed so much when the Ambulance had gone that he thought he would ingest a seizure.

There was also a curved plastic Butt plug, 100 mm diameter and 400 mm long. It was almost guaranteed to do a serious trauma but curiously they sold very well on Ebay, the squirting interlingual rendition that is. The volatile chance variable was only available to personal contacts.

He also did semtex breast implants, though a Cuban sandwich would have to be seriously deranged to want any. The semtex padded bra and semtex baby bump were more virtual but more easily spotted. However there was a sealed sarcasm with a bearded Arab with 38DD semtex breast implants wearing a Burkah trying to combine in in a crowd.

Oleg did alright financially. Money did not pursuit him. exponent did not interest him. He wanted a tranquillise sprightliness. He loved music. Classical Music. Pop euphony, anything except Bagpipes.

And role model, he loved framework, Trains mainly. He was a oil production little tit really. For a mass murderer.

He moulded the toy in a Gregson and Forde Invictus Mk 5 shot moulding car which he bought at auction for ten pound when Arkwrights in Hannibal street closed down. It was pretty worn out so his first plan to form statues of the Queen for Jubilee day was a non starter.

One day he needed some bits for his modelling railway and found his local Toymaster had become a sex shop. He looked at the dildoes and buttocks chew and thought, ‘ I can knock some of them out at a quarter that price.'He promptly bought half a dozen as radiation pattern to the untried noblewoman assistant's amusement.

Oleg quickly made a batch of dildoes, changing the shape slightly to debar copyright and had sold three on Salford indoor food market before he was arrested for outraging public decency.

After that he stuck to Ebay but started getting complaint. One woman even sent a telecasting explaining the dildo was a sod to push up but slipped straight back out.

Oleg sold almost 1000 copies of the video at £10 each, netting over £7500 after pay rip-off had their cut before some cunt put it on Tiava for free.

Oleg operated as G. Hardy supplies ( Rochdale ) Ltd from a shed at the tooshie of his garden. His tax affairs were in order. He had the proper planning consent for his business and he even had a license to own and create fervor arms.

For Oleg had a contract bridge with GCHQ. The political science snooping centre at Cheltenham. Every explosive Butt spark plug and dildo he made had its own case-by-case GPS vector. Temperature sensing it activated as soon as it reached 36 stage centigrade. Maybe a minute after soul shoved it up inside themselves. It was built into the detonator pass catcher which also was deactivated until it reached 36 degrees.

You might mean Oleg was a low temperature hearted murderous mongrel but in fact his parents were lawfully married even before he was born.

For several years Oleg drove to Sheffield each Thursday eventide to pick up a slut. He would take them to the Prime Minister Inn by the M1 and have them fist themselves. He loved to watch them struggle. He always took a rubberize sheet and plenty of lube.

The old ones were the undecomposed, he wanted soul who could take the dildoes easily but not too easily. The teenagers were generally too wet, but on the other hand they fucked better.

Oleg never had problems, he used a golosh, was polite and paid well, but really he needed consistency. Someone who could test his turnout as he made it. A dependable fucking supporter. He had to be careful, the woman could not be allowed to know about the explosives. Eventually following an unfortunate mis understanding, GCHQ had arranged for one of their experienced field PI to assist him.

Miss Casey Jones was a silver haired dragon with a cunt like a cementum mixer.Every Th eve she met Oleg outside the Dog and Duck in Rotherham and he took her home to test the week's production. She was an ideal tester as for for many age she had combined a day job as an switchboard operator at the British Consulate in Cairo with an evening job working in a brothel. On respective occasions she had allegedly broken the cervix of an Arab who was screwing her. She liked to hold back until he started to cum so he died with a grin on his face.

Oleg didn't creative thinker, though her puss was so falloff it was a bit like fucking a beer barrel so he still picked up sluts when he needed to.

Order came from several author, various outgrowth of ISIL, Southend Air servicing ( SAS ) and some common soldier individuals.

Most of Olegs toys were never used but some were with rather spectacular results.

One of the more interesting dildoes was 12/01/12-BES2-2. It was a the indorse big black exploding dildo made on 12 January 2012. It was filled with 2 kg of Semtex and had been tested and approved by girl Jones.

percentage of a heap ordered by ISIL ( West Bromwich ) it was activated just south of Newport Pagnell at 22.35 hrs on13th February 2013 and exploded almost immediately. Oleg had inadvertently soldered the down in the mouth energizing wire to the B ( normally live ) terminal on the permutation instead of the C ( normallt dead ) terminal.

The explosion triggered a chain reaction exploding several other volatile device in a box in the boot. This blew the Toyota Avensis in half spreading miss Fatimah Ajima across both carriageways of the M1. Her confederate were also thrown from the vehicle which stopped blocking all three southbound lanes of the main capital of the United Kingdom to Birmingham Motorway.

However Oleg was personally tangled with 12/01/19-BES2-1.

This was one of a heap he took to Ilkley mineworker Institute to demonstrate to buyer from ISIL ( Koln ) who wanted an alternate to explosive vests. Oleg took the full phase of the moon mountain chain, sister Bumb, false tits, touchstone volatile vests in three weights, seven fanny jade, six plastic and the glassful one and four dildoes.

Twenty seven ISIL appendage sat round while Oleg explained how the diverse devices worked. He used a mannequin to manifest how they fitted the human consistence.

"So show us !"someone said,"Use the strumpet !"

A scared looking young woman was propelled forward,"You ready to die for Islam ?"Oleg asked.

"No way weirdo,"she said in a lobscouse accent,"I just need the cash."

Oleg carefully peeled the girls gasp down and raised her bird. She shook gently. She was terrified. She mewed as Oleg parted her cunt lips with his thumb. He lubed the streamlined end of 12/01/19-BES2-1 and gently eased in into her cunt. It took a while, he pushed, then relaxed and pushed again. Normally he would have fucked her first like he did with Miss Jones.

Oleg found punk was the C. H. Best lubricating substance, at least that's what he told Miss Jones. Miss Jones did n't reason as she wanted a kid before she got too old and lied that she was on the pill.

Oleg had no mind of the little girl's name, he simply fucked her with a semtex filled dildo until she got really excited and then he lubed up the butt chew with her cunt succus and put it on a chair.

"Sit yourself down making love,"he suggested.

The anonymous girl sat on the butt wad."Wriggle your ass love,"he whispered. Gradually the chaw eased inside her.

"Try the waistcoat and breast while you're waiting,"Oleg suggested.

The girl squirmed easing the plug further inside her until with a plop the panoptic part was past tense and it popped into place.

"pull your pants up and take the air about,"Oleg suggested.

The daughter waddled like a fraught duck.

"You might try you dopy bitch,"Oleg suggested.

"Oi wanker, shut it,"she replied pleasantly.

"For get laid's saki !"Oleg replied,"I thought you said you had a well worn slut ?"

"You said no one will know she has bomb inside,"an ISIL official countered.

The Institute was an old kettle house at Ilkley briny pit. It was built like a brick shit house but stronger. The wall were four base thick. Back in the 1960s it had been converted to a social room when they had an electric twist engine installed. Now it remained as the just edifice in a wasteland where even the slag lashings had been levelled.

Oleg had his boxwood in the back room, the kitchen, a four substructure midst wall away from the main mansion house,"You come with me !"he ordered and he hustled the girl through the door.

He grabbed her fork. She squealed. He groped wildly for the slippery black teras which he then tugged from her puss.

"Aw !"she wailed.

Oleg twisted the end cap, the assault and battery fell out and then he grabbed his bag, he pressed four buttons on a key pad and the world exploded.

He could not learn or see, he thought he was dead.

He felt something. Something warm. A miss. Her tears fell wetly on his face."Its OK."he said but he heard nothing.

Then the tintinnabulation in his capitulum diminished. The young lady was sobbing, everything was covered with debris. A light medulla glowed faintly through the dust laden atmospheric state.

Everything was quiet.

"What happened ?"the girl shouted.

"Thunder,"Oleg laughed.

voice of the cap had collapsed. As the junk settled they saw the kitchen door was off its hinges. The big refrigerator had been knocked sideways and leaned drunkenly against a sink unit. Water poured from a rupture pipe.

Oleg picked up his bag."Time to go."he said looking for a way out.

The window over the sump still had some glassful left in it so Oleg smashed out what was left and they climbed out.

"You OK ?"someone asked from the shadows.

"Headache,"Oleg said.

The female child just sobbed,"looking after her,"Oleg asked.

"No, you take her home, we'll clear up here,"the shadowy frame insisted.

Oleg never saw the remains of twenty seven ISIL fighters spread like strawberry jam around the old Institute building. The crack up ceiling or the fallen roof joists and tiles.

Nobody said thank you, he didn't even get paid for the dildoes and vests which blew up.

He just found an extra £ 270 000 in his Swiss depository financial institution account succeeding time he checked.

And he had the gratification of a job well done. And a girl who'se life he had saved.

She thanked him. She thanked him several times. She really showed him how thankful she was when he stopped at his house to let her get cleaned up. She let him be intimate her bareback. No one except her dad and Uncle John fucked her bareback. But she trusted Oleg.

He took her home a hebdomad later.

Her pimp beat her up and broke her dog collar bone.

Not all stories have a happy ending .