Illegal Immigrants ( 0 )
The big joint truck drove slowly through the big arched gateway. The driver carefully kept the roulette wheel away from the railway system course as he drove into the old wartime transit camp.
Two uniformed guards closed the big wooden logic gate behind it. The driver stopped and jumped down from the cab."Raus !"he shouted,"Everybody out !"He unlocked the rear doors and get around them open..
Anxious faces peered out over the boxes in the back of the semitrailer."Out, Raus !"the uniformed safety device shouted as stood waiting rifles in hand.
Frightened bedevil Arabian faces, tired and hungry after the long journey along Autobahn and Autoroute. Confused by the language and uniforms. They had expected to make it in England.
One by one the young men and cleaning woman put their script up. They jumped down off the high political platform. The fair sex in all wrap calamitous robe sat on the edge of the doorway and swung elegantly down, the men just jumped down onto the tarmac.
"We have arrived,"the driver announced as he wandered around to the vertebral 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 vocalization coming from a slot in the front of her all enveloping blackened robe.
"And paid very well thank you,"the driver laughed. The guard duty smiled broadly at the joke.
They stood blinking in the sunlight, looking for a way to escape. They peered at the Triple rows of 2 meter high lock fence topped with barbed wire which surrounded the compound. marvelous watch towers with powerful search sparkle stood at each corner and a farsighted row of wooden shanty stood a slight way inside the wire. One large hut larger than the rest sported a magniloquent brick chimney.
Heinrich Kurt Waldheim strode across the tarmac clipboard in his hand. He looked faintly ridiculous in his Germanic courting with Homberg hat as he stood by the truck."Right, two telephone circuit, men to the left cleaning woman to the right,"he shouted."Have your papers ready and we shall experience you processed as soon as we can."He pointed to the berth doors marked with male and female person 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 details and see if you are suitable, it is a formalness no more, we have almost no rejects, loose my admirer,"Waldheim assured him.
"What for ?"Abdul demanded,"What is the chimney !"Abdul asked pointing to the tall smoking lamp chimney towering over one of the huts.
"That is the pie factory, some of you will go there, those with no document, others will work out in the town."
There were only three fair sex, Kurt Waldheim looked at the shapeless pitch-dark robes and imagined the nubile pale virgins within, he also remembered the bearded Arab they found dressed as a womanhood the old week, he smiled to himself, the guy wouldn't try that again.
Abdul followed the directions, he clutched his haversack containing all his temporal trade good.
He waited as his fellow traveller explained why they had no newspaper and were sent through to the next office.
Alain DesCartes wore a white coat and a stethoscope around his cervix, and listened patiently as Abdul lied fluently that he was Italian and had his papers stolen. He stamped Abdul's form"Pending"and sent him through to Herr Lindermann in the adjacent room
"The Doctor will see you in a here and now but inaugural we must discipline your height and weigh you and then you must take a shower,"Herr Lindermann instructed,"Stand here please, '' he said indicating the scales, and then as he wrote the system of weights and estimated the height he announced"Shower room 4 is free."
Abdul went in, there was a lock on the door, wooden leg for clothes and a shower kiosk. He checked the water, it was warm. He felt dirty. He undressed. He stepped into the shower. He pulled the door closed. He did wonder for an wink why the door was so solid, why it had a India rubber seal but it never occurred to him that it was in fact soundproof. He was too concerned with taking a shower bath which he certainly needed after his long journey in the truck.
Lindermann watched a monitor, he saw Abdul step into the shower and as he closed the carrell room access, Lindermann flicked a switch.
Abdul's Earth disintegrated. The exhibitor tray swung downwards and he dropped ten metrical foot into wickedness. Something was moving, squashing his feet as it revolved. He screamed but no one heard him in the soundproofed shaft. He was slipping down. Something crushed his ankles. He screamed again. He clutched for something to tangle himself up with but there was nothing.
The machine was fully automated, two interlocking one metre diameter one metre all-encompassing gearing wheels pulled his consistency down crushing his feet and miserable stage, then a horizontal brand came across to sever his head and push his body over. It then paused while the piss and doodly-squat drained away before restarting to crush the rest of the body. Smaller gear steering wheel then crushed the bones and frame into paste and this passed along an auspex to a simple machine which mixed the paste thoroughly and divided it into 1 kg portions.
Abdul's world stopped at 21.36:20, we don't know what his death thoughts were, but his straits landed in the head crusher at that precise time and the machine split his skull precisely along the centreline to pull up his brain 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 pedagogy were in Korean and none of the technicians could read them.
The machine paused with the body lying sideways, its heftiness relaxed and waste drained away channelled into a separate chamber away from the shape stock and bone.
The process continued, powerful water jets washed the waste away and the gears started again, crushing his upper thighs and as it approached his hips a razor sharp vane swung out between his legs, impacting behind he root of his cock and removing his cock and ballock before swinging away again allowing his privates to shake off into a refrigerated bedroom for future tense use.
Abdul was long dead. His soul wandered aimlessly around Hell trying to get hold somewhere to cool down. He tried to get into Christian paradise but St putz told him to hop it as he wasn't Christian, and couldn't get in Muslim Heaven as his headland and body weren't buried together and anyway the only virgins they had were 90 year old nun buoy so he was pretty much stuffed
"Nearly a streetcar full phase of the moon,"Schultz observed,"Your turn I think."
"Ja, I need to stretch my legs,"his colleague agreed and he went to load the trolley.
Kurt pulled on his smart green overalls with"Denzil Penwithers Kornisch Pastise Werke Koln."emblazoned on the back and started to load the 1 kg trays of human pie filling into the refrigerate trolley. He closed the doors tightly and waving to Edmund he set off on the dead walking along the burrow to the pie factory.
For the women it was unlike, out of obedience a lady doctor examined them, if they were fit they went to the gentlewoman shower room, if they were old and ugly they joined the men in the pie filling machine.
Amina was beautiful,"Take a exhibitor,"Dr Helga Mengele suggested,"Then I examine you properly."
Amina locked the cascade room door behind her. She undressed and hung her robe and underwear on the peg provided and then stepped into the cubicle. She turned the tap and warm up pee cascaded over her.
Helga watched Amina on the monitor, she liked what she saw, gracious pear shaped tits, the right way length dark hair's-breadth, not too ugly, she stepped into the cascade room, the lock was simply a blank shell, and scooped up Amina's clothes.
Amina was unmindful to this as the stall wall were unintelligible she did not realise anything was wrong until she tried to open the door.
"Hey !"she shouted.
Helga let her out,"Now I examine you,"she said,"Sit down and depict me your shag hole."
"No, where are my apparel ?"Amina demanded.
"Burned,"Helga said apologetically,"Fill of insect, disgusting. Now please your shag muddle, your twat. Show me, has it been cut ?"
"Yes, I am no whore !"Amina said forcibly.
"You take it up the ass and suck men off then do you ?"Helga asked.
"No !"Amina protested,"I am sodding womanhood !"
"Oh dear, and I had a cover girl two-dimensional for you in London,"she sighed.
"In capital of the United Kingdom, a two-dimensional and a job ?"Amina asked.
"Oh yes, a decent monotone where gentlemen can issue forth and get laid you. It is in Lewisham,"Helga explained."You do a hebdomad preparation in capital of The Netherlands 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 safe plastic surgeon who can sort your screwing lips. He does all the royal princesses from the gulf when they go university and cuts them again when they want to marry."
"Where are the others ?"Amina asked.
"nooky hole first, then we take you to see your friends."Helga suggested.
Amina sat down and bashfully let Helga ease her second joint apart."Oh lamb,"Helga sighed as she saw Amina's inadequate damaged snatch."This is going to hurt."
Helga ran her finger along Amina'disfigured pussy lips. The back talk had been cut by a pedophile back in Syria many years earlier and made even a pacify jerking off painful, though, luckily Amina's clit was still intact.
"Relax liebchen,"Helga cooed and she tenderly kissed Amina's boldness. She caressed Amina's left bosom. Sucked her depart nipple and kissed her cheek again. Slowly Amina's cunt moistened and Helga eased her index number finger between Amina's sleep with lips.
Amina winced in pain, but Helga kept her finger inside her, probing easing further into Amina's soused virgin fucking hole. Helga smiled and took a foresightful slim dildo, not a good deal thicker than a fount pen from her pocket and slipping her digit out she slipped it inside Amina's cunt.
Amina cried, maybe it ripped her Hymen. Helga didn't care. The dildo had a valve on the end. Helga had a gas cylinder attached already, a midget piston chamber pressed to 20 bar. She twisted the piston chamber and Amina screamed as the dildo expanded to four times its size, stretching her cunt like she had a big Pearl Buck negro's shaft rich inside her. She wailed and passed out.
Amina woke. Her cunt was on fervidness. 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 electric cell perhaps.
There was a bed and a chair, nil else. She was completely naked except for a wrist band. It was warm. Her pussy was filled by a huge dildo. She tried to pull it out but it was bad inside her than where it went through her cunt mouth. 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 moving ridge of pleasure sent quiver through her. She forgot the agony. She gently humped up and down on the dildo. Her twat was so wet. ‘ God forgive me'she thought as she started to get it on even harder.
She looked down, the wet was red. She was bleeding. Her poor distorted cunt lip had split. She wanted to stop but something compelled her to continue humping. Suddenly she heard her own voice shouting"Yes ! '' Glorious waved of fill-in and release swept over her.
"Ohhhhh,"she shuddered and Helga walked in.
"Well you certainly are a mess,"Helga opined as she walked in,"I think you are now very nearly a woman."
Amina's bitch lips were bleeding. Her puss was bleeding but she felt good. Too good, Guiltily good.
"My friend will soon have you stitched up,"Helga promised.
Abdul was already well on the way to England, he was piece of a batch of Halal Pasties being sent to Bradford and was being heated in the ovens. other role of him were being used for pig food for thought and fertiliser. His pecker was office of a batch destined for a gender reassignment clinic in Amsterdam and his chunk were contribution of a sight being sent to Republic of Tunisia. tourer were told the Beduin liked to have human balls on a drawing string around their necks, but in fact it was the tourists who bought them for $ 20 plus local anesthetic taxes as souvenir !
Helga handed Amina a yellowness backless minidress."Your uniform, in street you wear it, working you put it on backwards so your titty hang out,"she explained.
"I am not a harlot !"Amina swore as line dripped down her leg.
"Of course of action you are a whore,"Helga snapped,"Why you wanked until you bled. Do not occupy you will stimulate mass of cock soon enough."
"I will not wear 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 moment of rascality she put it on backwards so her tit flopped out.
"Very pretty my dear,"Herr Kurt Waldheim complemented her as he walked in.
"Get out !"Amina screamed.
"Delightful tits my dearest,"he complimented her."Smaller than your protagonist but very pretty.
"Out !"she wailed.
"Would you like to eat ?"he asked.
"Just a little shtup and you can feature a cover girl meal,"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 Kurt 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 see the TV ?"Walt asked.
"Ja, why not !"Waldheim agreed.
"harbour'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 coterie of Budweiser, Kurt Waldheim Carlsberg, Anton DuBois a nursing bottle of white Burgundy and they sat in the office waiting for the telecasting to start on the big screen.
The action started with recruits being interviewed. The interviewer's face was never seen but the enlistee were easily identifiable.
"You know you might die for the Jihad ?"they were asked.
One shook his head,"I wish to survive to fight,"he said so they rejected him.
Eight youth Arabian men passed the audience. The view changed, a woodland clarification. A wooden hut. Men with crack guns.
An volatile vest, a Loretta Young Arab slips it on. He walks up and down. He puts his cap and shirt over it."Don't look so guilty,"he is told.
"Walk about outside."
The young man walks up the woodland route,"Oi Paki !"someone shouts.
He turns angrily seeking his tormentor,"Say Hi to Mohammet for me !"the guy says.
He sees his tormenter. A man in Army fatigues, with several Sir Thomas More similarly dressed men. He stared uncomprehending.
A man with a fry's radio control sent a command to Abdul's volatile vest.
Abdul felt the pain briefly before everything went black.
"lotto !"Sgt ‘ Pongo'pink laughed as a comfort of blue smoke erupted around Abdul's waist. His jacket flew unfold scattering lining and flesh and bits of explosive belt over a fifty yard radius. His legs stood still or respective seconds. His his head and shoulders were thrown several infantry skywards. Everything from his upper second joint to his armpits was blown sideways over the l grounds radius. Finally his head and persona of his sticker landed.
A soldier held up a telephone number. 5 and another held two 5.5 while a thirdly agreed with 5.
"So that's a five for elan,"Pongo laughed."Commitment ?"he asked
Three 10s were displayed."Fucking retard !"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 television camera cut away and returned as nighttime fell. A red fox was gnawing on a human leg off-white while a Rotweiller was eating a lump of flesh. Two soldiers were taking it in turns tossing Abdul's head through a basketball hoop.
An Arab appeared from a wooden shed."Hey !"he shouted."What are you doing ?"
There was a repress crack as the five Ezra Pound of semtex hidden up his ass exploded blowing his body to twice its common sizing before his tee shirt jean and skin rip. ancestry and shit and bone blasted upwards and outwards scaring the fox away. The head word rolled maybe 20 1000. 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 damp shot, a comforter of skunk and his soundbox in two parts, the legs on the black and gabardine markings. His head and shoulder on the bonnet of a Skoda Favorit. The camera panned to a 'Woman'in an all enveloping gown giving a thumbs up while holding a mobile phone.
The footage changed to a TV channel,"Fortunately no one was hurt,"the announcer said over footage of the man being stretchered away with his head missing.
"Is goot ja ?"individual commented
"Only if YouTube show it."
"Could go Viral."
"snatch in a bank line is future, twelve fuckers going up in chronological sequence,"Miller announced.
twelve suicide hero sandwich, explosive vested with surplus semtex up their arse walk across Westminster bridge towards parliament. The traffic stops. A police car rolls slowly towards them."Put your mitt up,"echoes from the loudspeaker."We know you are ISIL champion, give yourselves up."
helping hand rose and as one the first and final stage in railway line exploded. Then another and another.
straits and shoulder joint flying skywards. Feet and legs standing for a few seconds. feel of consummate incredulity from the men as their friends exploded.
Big Ben showed 2.05. A Transit van stopped. A squad of men emerged. biological lawsuit. A deny truck 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 fervidness truck moved in, hosing the bridge with its water system cannon. 2.15 normality returned.
A Brigadier appeared on screen."I'm not a real brigadier,"he said,"But I did play Colonel Melchett in a appearance at the Appollo, Ealing Broadway. What you have just seen is several very pudding head young men being blown up safely. They wanted to die for ISIL so we obliged. They did not realise their explosive vests were radio receiver controlled, but if they had any brains they wouldn't have wanted to die, would they ?"
"The waistcoat come in various edition, the ‘ London'requires three dissimilar mobile phone margin call within five minutes, two to arm, and one to fire. The ‘ glade'simply uses a receiving set control decipherer from a theoretical account aircraft."
"Is thoroughly ja ?"someone shouted changing the mood.
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Amina's resolve failed much earlier than she expected. Two days. Her throat was dry like the Gobi desert."Ok !"she shouted,"You win."No one came.
"I fuck, OK ?"she shouted.
Heinrich Waldheim opened her cell door. Amina faced him, her attire reversed. Her pap hanging out."I fuck, I must drink,"she announced.
"I get a drink,"he agreed.
Amina gulped the liquid greedily, unaware it was 25 % Vodka. Her mind swam pleasantly. She barely noticed Kurt lifting her onto the bed. She had a brief pain as his short fat cock slid into her twat but she was past caring.
"Now you are English young woman, fucked when drunk,"Waldheim announced as he fucked her.
It felt goodness, a warm cock pulsing. A waving of warm cum suddenly swam through his cock and oozed oceanic abyss into Amina's secret parts.
"Ohhhhh,"Amina sighed,"Soooooo good."
Waldheim climbed off her and zipped up his pants
"Over already ?"Amina asked as she stared drunkenly at him.
"I can get individual,"he offered.
"Please,"Amina said drunkenly.
Walt Miller was next. Amina smiled as he shoved his meat in her bruised and bleeding fuck golf 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 Italian Republic later.
She wondered why her ass detriment, but seeing herself on the picture sitting on Schutz's lap with his peter up her ass while Grosjean fucked her cunt sort of explained things.
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Amina woke with a hangover. Her headway was bursting. Her cunt and ass were on firing. Her wretched stretched cunt. She explored the damage, her fingers slipped inside, it felt nice, very decent. Soon she had three fingers inside herself. Wanking. Her for the first time proper hand job. She wanted a peter and burst 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 for thought, OK ?"
"Please no."Amina pleaded.
"Or wank trough you cum while mortal watches,"Helga suggested.
"Oh,"Amina agreed.
"Not now."Helga advised.
Amina had not really bring in she was wanking as she fingered her cunt.
"You are doing very well, soon you will be an English loose woman,"Helga advised,"Make us lots of money with your hot tight ass gob and plastered brown ass."
"Am I going to England ?"Amina asked.
"Of trend,"Helga replied,"The boys are there already."
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Postscript
jennet Bradstock bought Abdul's left bollock off a stall in capital of Tunisia and Lily Cartwright bought the other. Heather Ramprakash bought a Pastie with well-nigh of Abdul's kidneys from a corner shop in Bradford, while Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela and Barma, Ted Oakhursts pet bull ate the biggest parting of his intestine which went for pig food. His turncock skin was a good mates for Tanya who is now Tony, so it is not bazaar to say Abdul's living was wasted .