Rape

I pressed the button to open the sunroof as the leader of our kidnapping squad pulled his silenced automatic from a shoulder holster and snapped back the slide, chambering a round. It was time for a bit of improvisation. Head and shoulders through the opening in the ceiling, I called out the first thing that came to mind.

“Hey, buddy! How do you get to the Lincoln Tunnel from here?”

He looked at me over his shoulder and shook his head with a nasty pursed-lipped expression. You have to live in New York to understand these bastards. They walk around in their weird getups with this look of permanent disapproval on their faces, as if all the rest of us were lepers about to contaminate them. But truth be told they are the nastiest, stinkiest bunch of cheap-shoe wearing bath-needing motherfuckers you ever laid eyes upon. Where they get off with this attitude is utterly beyond me, but this night it suited my aims to perfection.

I looked down through the sunroof with raised eyebrow, catching the eagle eye of my gunsel. He gave a curt nod and was out the door in one motion like an uncoiling spring. Before the fabric dealer had a chance to react, my man seized him by the collar, spun him around to face the vehicle, clapped the muzzle of the silencer to the back of his skull, and was pushing him across the sidewalk.

“Get your fat ass over here, motherfucker. Now put your hands on the roof of the vehicle and spread your legs. One wrong move and I’m gonna ventilate that stupid fucking hat with two nine-millimetre air-holes: one in one side and one out the other.”

We had him spread-eagled against the vehicle, standing in the open side door. My man kept looking up and down the street, gun screwed firmly into the poor geek’s ear. I was standing in the sunroof, cellular telephone out, conferring with the home office as I sized up the situation. The fellow was about 45 or 50, fairly short, and obese. He had a big black hat that maintained its precarious perch high atop his skull only with the assistance of a strap at the back. He was bushily bearded although not sidelocked. He wore a black overcoat, seedy suit and stained white shirt. His shoes were surpassingly cheap, made of some shiny plastic leather-substitute with soles beginning to split away from the uppers. In face, he was ugly, with beady eyes, a fleshy proboscis and a pendulous underlip. He smelled of sweat, garlic, cheap tobacco and unwashed drawers. Best of all was his expression, which said clearly: “I don’t know what these animals want-probably to rob me-but their actions confirm everything I know about the goyim. They are pigs, violent dangerous swine.”

“Good evening, sir. We require your assistance (I pronounced this word in the French style: ‘ah-see-STOHNZE’-sometimes in moments of excitement I do this sort of thing-not sure why) for a minute. Just keep a cool head on your shoulders, do exactly as you’re told, and everything will work out for the best.”

Into the cellular telephone:

“OK, I think we’ve got our man here. He’s one of those Jews with the big beards and big hats. Fat and stinky as can be. From the look on his mug he doesn’t know whether to shit or call down the wrath of Y—-H on our heathen heads. What’s my next move?”

“You haven’t much time. You’ll need to create a humiliating, coercive sexual situation right away. Force the Japanese girl to orally service this nauseating wretch, in front of onlookers if possible. It’s important that she be the recipient of both his lust and his scorn. At the climactic moment, add a soupcon of erotic pain to the recipe by lashing her bare bottom with an improvised whip, wet towel, or what have you. If you can induce the Jew to utter heartfelt words of hate, lust and contempt, so much the better, although if he is unable, you and your men may have to speak for him.”

“OK, gotcha. Stand by in case we need advice.”

“Copy.”

Back into the limo I conferred with my evil compadres. They leaned forward, intent upon my every word.

“OK, boys. She’s going to have to suck this Jew and we don’t have much time to make it happen. The black-magic people at Headquarters tell me that she’s really got to suffer before we finish her off tonight-something to do with the astrological plane, or the endocrine system and what have you. Humiliation means witnesses-you and you, get me a couple of innocent onlookers, fast. Get that gag mask off of her and let’s get busy. It’s showtime!”

Ahhhhhh…Voltaire, Hobbes, Locke, Descartes…. the noble voice of sweet REASON. Let us stroll through my galleries, arcades and gardens and discuss the joys of black philosophy. Surely the wisdom of bygone ages will calm my troubled mind and lay to rest this filthie SPLEEN that does arise within me…. Why must men commit dark acts? This always is and ever was my theme, though it shall require at least 24 volumes to explicate fully. I have ruined my eyesight, scribbling late… bell, book and candle my only companions…

Jew Humilated

The Israelite suffers Insult

and Injury at the hands of

hard and Dangerous men

Picture if you will a black limousine parked at the curb on a deserted midtown Manhattan street. The entire scenario is illumined by those ghastly orange sodium streetlights, which cast no shadows and give to each participant the complexion of a ghoul. (If this were “Masterpiece Theater”, the English actor over-enunciating the voiceover would pronounce that word “comm-PLECK-see-un” rather than the prosaic American “cuhmpleckshinn”) The back door on the curbside is open and an unattractive bearded man is standing spraddle-legged with hands flat on the roof, in the position generally reserved for perpetrators undergoing a frisk. A hard-faced hoodlum in an expensive suit stands to one side, looking up and down the street with narrowed eyes, forcing the snout of a silenced automatic into the ear of this unlucky wretch so hard that his head is tilted to the side. Inside the limo, my security director and my merry men wrestle the tall Japanese girl into position. It’s crowded in the back and their shoulders jostle together as they roll her onto her stomach and remove the mask. An onlooker outside the vehicle, should the mirrored windows be rolled down, would see only their forward-bent heads and scowls of concentration and might think that a greased pig had escaped and was at large amongst their ankles. I’m standing on the seat, head, shoulders and torso through the sunroof, directing the proceedings. I can see both the hapless Jew and the hindquarters of the sacrificial victim, although to actually see her lips upon him I shall be obligated to either lean forward over the edge of the roof or drop back inside the vehicle.

I shoot my cuff and check my chronometer. We are due back at the office to administer the coup de grace to this lanky cunt, and by magical principle of extension, to the entire Nikkei Index and the Asian economy. Inside the vehicle my men have the girl face down on the floor, one sailor per limb. The security director seizes a handful of her hair and yanks her head up so that she is facing out the open door. She is taking deep shuddering breaths now that the gag mask has been removed.

“Get her up on her knees, boys. We’ve got a Jew dick to suck and a market to crush.”

As they force the girl into the approved position for a fellatrix, I give the nod to my triggerman. He leans in close and snarls in the ear of the Jew:

“Keep your hands flat on the roof at all times, you fat fuck. Don’t even fucking look at me.”

“Ok, Sergeant. Drop his pantaloons and let’s have a look at what we’re dealing with”

My man reaches around and gives a hard shake to the belt buckle of our lucky captive and it pops undone. His suit pants drop immediately to his ankles. He’s gibbering with fear and shame, eyes rolling frantically towards his tormentor and then away as he remembers his instructions. Saliva flecks appear on his beard, his lips flap like Alan Dershowitz in a rage. His shirttails hang free over his white hairy belly. He’s wearing stained white briefs from which arises a sour odor.

“The man-panties will have to go as well, my good fellow.”

The briefs join the trousers around his ankles. His legs are short and fat, as is his penis. His skin is dead white and thickly furred. A large belly hangs down, covering the top of his matted pubic hair. It’s a disgusting sight. I congratulate myself, silently, as I gesticulate in a circular motion with my cellular telephone like a mad conductor.

“Spin him around and let’s have a look at him from all sides.”

“You heard the man, Fucko. Hands on top of your head, fingers interlaced.”

The poor bastard did as he was told and my man spun him around by the shoulder in a motion that reminded me of blindfolds and piñata parties.

“Whoa, stop right there! Those fat asscheeks are simply preposterous!”

They were foul, saggy and pimply, with whorls of black hair. A sudden inspiration came upon me and I dropped back inside the vehicle. The men scooted aside to make room, but the constraints of space obliged me to kneel on the floor directly behind the Jap bitch, looking out over her shoulder. I now had a cunts-eye- view of the unappetizing middle-aged posterior of our involuntary ritual assistant, filling the doorway. The advice of our freelance wizard went though my mind-”Be sure to issue forth a stream of lewd commentary”.

Ritual Humiliation of the Victim

The Narrator discovers a gift for black Eloquence

I pressed myself against the raised ass of the girl, a knee on either side of her knees, a sudden hard-on pounding in my shorts. Her disarrayed hair fell across her face in strands. I reached around and yanked the hem of her dress up over her hips, exposing a high round ass, divided into two cheeks by a black G-string, which had worked its way deeply between them. She suddenly began to squirm desperately as if cognizant of the direction the proceedings were soon to take. With a man holding either arm, however, she was totally powerless.

“Sergeant…if you would be so kind as to assist our guest in touching his nose to his knees…?”

Gun to head, our newer captive performed the maneuver with a squeal of effort, although his belly prevented him from bending more than halfway over. This was quite enough for my purposes, however. I laced my fingers tightly into the hair at the base of that Nipponese cunt’s head and got a very tight, painful grip. Her back arched involuntarily as she gasped in pain, pressing her ass against me and a thrill electrified my being. Then, by thrusting my weight against her ass and yanking her head forward I caused her to lean directly into the exposed fundament of the hapless Hebrew. I ground myself into her as I drove her head closer and closer to his buttocks.

“What a lovely spectacle, eh, you stuck-up bitch?”

She twisted her head to the side as hard as she could, despite the pain caused by resisting my grip upon her hair, nose wrinkled in disgust, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

With a final shove I wedged her nose tightly into his ass causing his back to arch involuntarily- whether with embarrassed ecstasy or mortified pleasure, I wasn’t sure.

“Hold her there a minute, gentleman, while I don my priestly vestments.”

I groped on the floor for the Sergeant’s black bag. I was positive that he had a supply of surgical gloves and my confidence was rewarded. I pulled out a pair and drew them on delicately, and then reached back into the bag, where my fingers encountered the thrilling solidity of a revolver handgrip. I tucked it into my waistband at the base of my spine. I was hunched over her kneeling form like a monkey fucking a football

“Turn the bastard around again and let him have a look at her.”

No sooner said than done. I craned my neck to look up into the Jew’s flushed face and then reached around the girl and took a tit in either hand. Each one made a taut, springy, overflowing handful.

“Look at these big hard fake titties!”

I lifted one, and then the other, and then rotated them in various directions as if familiarizing myself with the gearshift of a sports car of foreign manufacture.

“This is pure silicone rubber, sir, I assure you. There is absolutely no way this cunt was born with these hooters. I’ve got the devil’s own grip on them and I can tell you, they are completely lacking in that saclike sloshing quality that betrays the natural-born tit. These jugs fear no breast-cancer, Rabbi. When they lose their hydrocarbonated springiness they will be traded in like their cousins, the tyres of automobiles. If you don’t believe me, fix your eye upon them as I bobble and slap them from side to side!”

With a flourish I suited word to deed, dealing her a vicious smack upon the right tit, which sent it careening into its rubbery twin. An entirely unnatural back-and-forth oscillation was set in motion that persisted for several long-drawn-out moments. I peered up with a long-upper-lipped, raised-eyebrow expression as if to say “How now, Professor, what say you to this final proof of my theories?” and then slapped again from the other side, instigating a contrariwise but no less unnatural bobbling.
I looked up at him again and for a moment I thought I discerned in his eye a spark of naked lust. Something about the unnatural quality of this situation sent a sympathetic tremor of pure desire through my body. I felt at that moment an odd kinship with those specialists who extract the seed of prize bulls for use in artificial insemination. Big-league cattle breeders never risk exposing their prize creations to the blind, aggressive act of natural copulation. Instead, the bulls are blindfolded and then hosed with hormones drawn off from the glands of heifers in heat. Their simple minds driven mad with desire by this biochemical trickery, they are led into a narrow paddock containing a set of artificial bovine hindquarters. I’m basing all of this on a PBS documentary that could well be something I dreamt and never actually saw, but I’d swear that these hindquarters were made of durable, transparent Plexiglas. The bull is released into the breeding chamber and immediately falls to with a will, steered by an instinctual knowledge of the proper shape of a cow’s ass, which he doth begin to fuck in that resonant, animalistic and highly stimulating position we humans are amused to call “doggy style”.

Apparently, although a bull in the throes of lust cares not whether the hindquarters of his mate be bone and hairy flesh or insensitive and unyielding Plexiglas, his cock possesses discernment enough to wither and fall impotent should it encounter anything less than the clasp of a vaginal canal. The breeder is obliged to simulate same by masturbating the thrusting penis with rubber-gloved hands warmed to cow-interior temperature in a bucket of hot water and then coated with petroleum jelly for lubricious slipperiness. A two-handed grip is apparently most efficacious. The documentary glossed over the crucial moment, but I’m sure that, once milked, the sperm was trapped in some sort of appropriate receptacle for its trip to the freezer. My mind can’t resist a whimsical fancy here-they catch the falling seed in a fedora hat- the type worn at a jaunty angle by the Notre Dame “Fighting Irish” leprechaun-and immediately suck it up with a turkey-baster and shoot it into the chosen cow. You know, it’s those cattle breeders with their bluff, 19th c. English Isles “All things Bold and Beautiful” attitudes towards reproduction that for some reason lead me inevitably to thoughts of that malevolent homunculus, the “Fighting Irish” gnome…he’s a horny little bastard and a man of the soil, I just know it… but I digress most foully.

Wait, I’ve gotten my blasted hats mixed up again. It’s the BOWLER that I’m thinking of. The rounded cuplike shape of its crown bespeaks “receptacle” to me. Yes, bowler, most certainly. And, to boot, the leprechaun sports an Amish/Capt. Ahab/C Everett Koopian jawbeard, the most perverse of facial hairstyles…. To administer a handjob to a leprechaun. There’s a fairy story for you. Someday the perversity of the little people will be brought to light, starting with a scholarly monograph upon the psychosexually dominant nature of Rumplestiltskin, but we’ll leave that for another time. What I’m trying to get at here, in my roundabout way, is that there is something demonically stimulating about the black act of controlling and channeling the lust of a repressed and frustrated man, for me. Allow me to step outside the story for a moment and sketch an brief outline of my motives, which my authorial weaknesses may have left dim, and with all due apologies to Gordon Lish, Ray Carver and Philip Roth, for letting down the team in such a 19th c. way, I will baldly state my reasons. I see this Jew as the prototypical frustrated male. The mental byways that have led me here are long and meandering and I could no doubt enlighten you all had I ephedrine enough and time, but let me try and be brief. I IDENTIFY with him, and my humiliations of him are the humiliations to which I subject myself, daily. In short, I AM he, and those of you who have not figured this out yet should read the rest of the tale with that borne firmly in mind.

Why did I pick an Israelite as my puppet and penile proxy? Thinking about how to best answer this, I realize that I was not cut out to be a short-story writer. The quick answer is-”that’s what came to mind.” Many of those who know me slightly will call me a misogynist, or perhaps a homophobe and an Anti-Semite. I am all of these things, yes, but in my heart of hearts I realize that the Jews are the juiciest, the perviest, the ballsiest of races and I envy them bitterly. My awe in the face of the works of Philip Roth is but the outward sign. Henry Miller, remarking upon the bony, Asiatic cast of feature which fate had bestowed him, said that he was “as ugly as a Jew”. Miller wished he was Jewish and I must say that I wish the same for myself. Ah, Christ! The Mossad! Alan Dershowitz! Ron Jeremy! The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion! The Jews invented everything, from the Theory of Relativity to monotheism. They stand behind every radical movement. Free jazz? Black players but Jewish producers and critics. Communism? Jews, Jews and more Jews. Marx, Feud, Darwin, Evel Knievel, Nat Hentoff, David ben-Gurion, Saul Bellow… Iesus of Nazareth, Regem Iudeum…Trotsky, Karpov, Kasparov …Einstein, Murray Gell-Mann, Dr. Robt. Oppenheimer and other leading lights of physics and quantum mechanicks…not to mention Bobby Dylan, Lenny Bruce, Baron Rothschild and the Archangel Gabriel, which means “Blessed Bullcalf of God.” The bastards dominate aesthetics, astronomy, sales, psychotherapy, finance, fashion and film. Jews in academia are behind veganism, feminism, deconstructionism, Political Correctness &c. , &c. I could go on and on. How did such a race of inbred weaklings, who as far as I can see marched to the gas chambers without a murmur, come to rule the world from behind the scenes? Well…. we are now poking at the heart of the matter.
My God, how did I ever get off onto that tangent? That’s the problem with writing this neverending, chrono-telescopic tale in little sections. Whatever preposterous conflagration of the brainstem that provoked that outburst re our Jewish brethren is now completely lost and gone forever. I can’t even imagine what I was thinking…Let’s return to the main body of the tale. Late arrivals had better find their way back to the beginning and start from there.
One can imagine my sentiments as I hunched there in the vestibule of a stretch limousine, rubbing against the bare bethonged asscheeks of a leggy lesbian facing an appointment with death, a group of burly mercenaries lounging about stroking their weapons and mentally adding their overtime pay. A man in my line often finds himself coping with circumstance both strange and unforeseen, but this takes the proverbial cake. It’s odd: when the evening began, I went out looking for a sacrificial victim in order that my company might perform the necro-financial rites and enjoy a profitable consummation. My interest in the proceedings was purely professional and my attitude no-nonsense. But as the night wore on, I found myself caught up in the dramatic humiliations and torture of this young Japanese girl, this fake-titted, long-legged Nipponese delegate to that Sapphic Congress which, as everyone knows, is held annually upon the Isle of Lesbos. Negative feelings were stirring within me, and I found myself possessed by an urge to improvise. An incontinent upwelling of dark eloquence, from a place in my heart I had never known, burst like a bubble of swamp gas upon the surface of my consciousness, and the lexicon of lust seemed to place itself at my disposal. When I looked up at that hairy Semitic visage, bearded, face somehow simultaneously fat and vulpine, bulbous of proboscis, and saw the look in the eyes of our penile proxy, I knew that I had made an inspired choice. Despite our use of force and our humiliating and casually brutal treatment of the fellow, he was responding to the helplessness and shame of the sacrificial victim, who, alimentary canal swimming in his seed, would soon be keeping her date with the gallows tree. The ceremonial “last meal”, traditional on death row, though in this case the menu had been planned without consultation of the condemned.

What does it mean when a man, a middle-aged fellow possessed, by the look of him, of no small amount of amour propre (despite a dirty shirt and breath stinking of garlicky kosher cookery), displays the symptoms of naked and vicious lust in circumstances most bizarre and quite detrimental to his personal dignity? To be spreadeagled at gunpoint, bare-assed as a chimp on the street corner, pants around stockinged ankles in that most ridiculous and overeager state of male deshabille. …laughed at and threatened by hard and dangerous men… I could certainly never function sexually in such a situation. Was it something masochistic, self-hating, or self-loathing in him that caused his eyes to flash so? I think not. Read on, and I’ll see if I can clarify my theories a bit. I intended to milk this fellow of his seed, as surely and professionally as a livestock breeder, and I think he found it as deuced stimulating as I. Although in this case the male had not been chosen for his well -formed fetlocks nor the female for her prize-winning shapely udders, but rather, she as a cabalistic representative of Nippon and he as the most distasteful, disgusting specimen we could lay our hands upon at short notice.

And yet….and yet perhaps negative dieties do swim in the chaos that lies in the center of the spheres, reaching into our world to influence the destinies of men and even women and even Jews. (And here, I believe, lay the real heart of the matter and my justification for believing my choice inspired, or even divinely influenced). To the sexual eye, the man was obviously secretly, vilely, covetously, venomously lustful, a man the sucking-off of whom was certain to act as a dark corrosive upon the soul of any woman, much less a young, attractive Japanese lesbian who undoubtedly viewed male lust as threatening, ridiculous and unclean. A Jew methinks, as a religious man, has an appearance of dignity and rabbinical restraint to maintain upon the street. A Hasidim is a representative of a small community of the blessed, charged with bringing about the return of the Messiah through good behaviour. Who knows how many young girls the Jew had eyed furtively in passing, a bitter sneer of lust upon his Fagin’s features passing for the disdain of the godly for the world of hypocrites and sin. It was all in the open now, his façade blown wide open. Pistol to head he would be forced to perform the selfsame black act he had no doubt contemplated in his secret heart, in public for all to see.

Maybe that very day he had passed a gaggle of young Japanese exchange students and heard their giggles as he strained his peripheral vision to catch a glimpse of their plump asses without appearing untoward. Maybe he knew that, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying, they were in fact laughing at his beard, at his getup, at his gut, his waddle…oh can you IMAGINE fucking THAT, etc, etc. (in Japanese of course) …He knows he is superior to women, all women, especially a bunch of bowlegged, squinty-eyed sluts like the Japs, the Holy Torah tells him so as well as custom handed down from the forefathers back into time immemorial, but this knowledge does him no good. Now he would get his revenge, and not only that, but he was absolved-at pistol-point- of all personal responsibility. Read and understand this well, because it is my belief that the Jew here represents all men: in the heart of each of us lies the capacity for venomous lust and black sexual rage, though society and breeding teach us to regard it with shame
I had the girl’s hair wrapped around my fist, a grip so tight and painful that she emitted a constant high whine like a tiny mechanism at the point of failure. With a yank I pulled her into position once again, and reached up and took hold with my gloved hand of the Rabbi’s wiggly worm, as short, fat, flexible and pasty a circumcised cock as you ever saw. I gripped it delicately near the base, with thumb and forefinger, and jiggled it up and down with a shimmying motion from the wrist, imparting upon it a most risible up-an-down flopping motion. My mouth to her ear, I whispered hoochie-koo and finally bobbled his cockhead against her lips, causing them to bobble and flap as well for a second, until she drew them back against her clenched teeth in a rictus of revulsion, eyes tight shut, trying to twist her head to the side against the pain of my grip on her hair. I gave the Rabbi’s face a quick, sly look and he seemed transfixed by the scene, hands still flat on the roof like a suspect being frisked. I could feel his cock starting to harden in my grasp, growing thicker rather than longer.

“Open wide, you fucking dyke bitch. Open your mouth and eyes right now, or I’m going to have the sergeant here pistol-whip you right in the face and knock your teeth down your throat, “University of the Americas”-style. A toothless mouth should provide a hell of a smooth and slippery ride for the Rabbi here, don’t you think? An esophageal vagina! That would be an excellent revenge for all the times you have laughed at him on the street. Open wide, I said!”

Her slanty eyes popped open then and rolled to the whites, as desperately as those of any horse being administered a dose of physic, and her mouth half-opened, closed, and reopened, as if unable to decide the worse fate. I bobbled cockhead against soft lips once more, my eyes on the Jew the while.

.

“I appoint myself pastor, priest and Justice of the Peace. Now hear the dark doxology: Do you, Jew, accept this skanky Jap cunt, with her too-big fake titties and her half-breed genes, her long legs and her tight dress and thong riding up between her fat little asscheeks, to be your unlawful, unwilling cocksucker?”

I bobbled his dick up and down here, to indicate assent, and got a firm hold on the back of her head. Now her mouth hung open, as if in shock. Behind me, from the air-conditioned darkness of the limousine, I heard a crackle of static and a burst of distorted electronic conversation. Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I turned my head and saw the bland, sweaty face of my security director looming towards me.

“Headquarters wants to know what’s taking us so long, sir. They say everything is ready to go.”

He looked at his watch in a meaningful manner.

“Yes indeed. Tell them we’ll just be a few minutes. Have the shipping and receiving foreman open the loading dock door. We’ll bring her in that way in order to avoid queering the festivities.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

I was speaking as if in a trance. Part of me knew that time was of the essence and that I should rush through the task at hand and speed back to headquarters in time to make the sacrifice, but for some reason time itself seemed to be slowing down and I had the curious certainty that I could take as long as I liked with the deliciously foul blowjob that I was about to inflict upon this poor girl, this high-fashion lesbian who no doubt had never tasted a penis of any sort, much less one belonging to so lustful, unattractive and vile a person as our captive proxy. Indeed, though I tell this tale with the omniscience and deliberate measure of hindsight, at the time I was in the strangest state of mind. As I remember it, the roaring of blood in my ears threatened to drown all other sounds and my visual field seemed tunneled and restricted by dark walls that insisted on framing the scene like a proscenium arch. Though I acted with complete assurance, I felt as though I was reading lines that had been written for me dark ages ago and carven in stone in preparation for this exact moment.

With one hand still twined in the victim’s hair, I seized her smooth cheeks and squeezed them hard, forcing her lips into a goldfish pout. I was obliged to relinquish my grasp upon the Rabbi’s penis to accomplish this and was gratified to see it in a semi-hard state. My associate standing behind him on the sidewalk leaned in with the pistol and lifted her lips away from her teeth with the snout of the silencer, like a horsetrader inspecting a prospective purchase. Then he placed the muzzle firmly against her forehead, lifted it away for a second and then clapped it back against her head with a flick of the wrist, leaving a red circular mark like a third eye, precisely aligned between her two earthly eyes.

“Open your mouth wide”,

I hissed in her ear, and she did, hypnotized by the muzzle of the pistol.

Again I seized the Rabbi’s tool, now at least ¾ hard. He was panting, eyes fixed and glittering, seemingly withdrawn to a private place.

“Excellent. Do you, bitch, promise to suckle this short fat penis, and bring its loathsome, lustful owner to a satisfying and vicious orgasm, swallowing in due measure his scrotal phlegm, the foul fruit of his balls? Do you promise to get him off quickly, given our time restraints?”

I gave her head a few nods, then shifted to my best “James Earl Jones” voice:

“Now, sir, prepare yourself to receive your first lesson in the joys of dark philosophy. Bitch, you may suck the cock!”

And with that I forced her lips as far apart as they would go. The Jew was fully erect. My associate goosed him with the silencer and he lurched forward into her mouth. His pecker fit there, as nicely as a component doth a socket.
Well, there we were. All of us stock-still, immobilized by the timeless quality of the proceedings. I looked up at that swarthy Semitic mouthrapist and saw his quivering lips, which could not seem to decide whether to form themselves into an “O” of mortification or a rictus of sheer pleasure. His hips gave a preliminary push and the pressure of her wet mouth must have been delightful, because his eyelids fluttered and closed for a second. I was beside myself with sheer joy at that moment. I could see his indecision, the head ordering the cock to wither, the hips desiring to thrust and thrust. She still wasn’t moving; eyes squeezed shut, face contorted in a gagging expression.

“That does it. Out with her teeth, Sergeant”

The threat was enough. She began to bob her head tentatively. The Rabbi’s penis was so short that she could take the entire length in her mouth, yet so swollen and fat that it stretched her lips as wide as they would go. I observed the saliva-slicked cock sliding in and out.

“Jesus, Kinko, that must taste utterly foul. Why these bastards never bathe is beyond me. Look at his face; I think he’s enjoying this despite himself. Yes he is! He’s getting off! Banging a stuck-up Japanese broad in the mouth…not much of a princess NOW are you? ….If only your lesbo friends could see you. Sucking off a nasty old Jew man… Yuck. …..Make it smooth and nice for the ugly old fuck, he’s got to shoot it off into your face any minute now or we are going to be late for the execution… You little cunt, I think you might have done this before! You are taking every inch of his old turkey-neck into that throat of yours! Blow him! Mouth his member! What would Mary Daley and Andrea Dworkin say about this? They’d have your insignia ripped off and then drum you right off the Isle of Lesbos in disgrace!”

I admit that at this point lust got the better of dignity and I fumbled my belt buckle open and unzipped my expensive trousers. They dropped to my knees, still on the limo floor outside the girl’s legs. With one hand to the back of her head, forcing it up and down, I produced my tool with the other and began slapping her asscheeks with it, as if it were a truncheon or a length of heavy hose, producing a rhythmic sound that syncopated nicely with the strangled “gluck-gluck-gluck” issuing from Kinko’s belabored throat. Demonically inspired, I addressed myself to her tormentor:

“Look at that little Jap cunt sucking your fat Jew dick! Think of all the bitches you have looked upon with lust and contempt: it’s time to repay them all, with interest! Come on, you fuck, give it to her mouth… Abrade her tonsils! After all, Jahweh can’t punish you for this, we are FORCING you to mouthrape this stuck-up little whore”

I let off drubbing the girl’s bare ass with my dick and stood up in the limo, pants around ankles like a well-dressed doppelganger of the fellated Rabbi. I poked my torso through the sunroof and leaned over to his sweating face, as casual as if I was talking to someone in a bar:

“Come on, sir, we haven’t got all day! Quit holding out on us! Haven’t you got an ugly wife with a wig at home? I bet she never performs the black act of fellatio upon you? Think of it, Rabbi! FELLATIO….’fell-ay-shee-oh’…. or perhaps if I were King I’d order it pronounced ‘fell-AH-tee-oh’, or even ‘fell-ay-tee-oh’. Do you see what I’m driving at here, you disgusting goblin? Don’t feel guilty; this little bitch is a LESBIAN! A sinner in the eyes of Jehovah! Give her a dose of the seed of Abraham, Isaac, and all those other horny old motherfuckers! Maybe we can set her on the right path. That’s right, give it all you’ve got, Rabbi!”

My words must have hit their mark in the Rabbi’s lizard brain, because all of a sudden a guttural groan was wrenched from the depths of his being. His eyes popped open and stared down at Kinko’s lips as they worked along his shaft.

“One minute, motherfucker! That’s what you’ve got! One minute more to shoot a wad into this skanky bitch. Let’s go, you fat fuck!”

His lips set in a furious grimace, he began pounding in and out of her mouth, jarring her head back with every stroke. Suddenly, his hands let go of the top of the door and seized her head on either side. My associate made to restrain him but backed off as I shot him a look. As if in a dream, I looked from side to side and saw that my men had shouldered through the sunroof to watch the proceedings from above. As one, they began to beat the rythymn of the face-fuckery upon the echoing steel roof of the limo with their bare palms, chanting all the while:

“SUCK! SUCK! SUCK! SUCK! SUCK!”

The devilish chorus seemed to push things over the edge. My associate had dropped his pistol to the sidewalk and removed his belt. With it, he beat a furious counterrythymn on the bare, humping ass of the Rabbi. We were all contained in an implacable, inexorable pulse, like galley slaves rowing to the stroke of the drum into a flaming melee. A desperate yet regular retching sound, like someone trying to vomit through a gag, kept nearly inaudible counterpoint. I could barely contain myself. For the last time, like an evil jack-in-the-box in reverse, I dropped back inside the vehicle, hands shaking with excitement, and fumbled off my own belt. I doubled it over into a short, wide strap and without further ado began to flail the poor girl’s ass like a man possessed. The thunder of the men beating on the roof drowned out everything else, but over the din roared the voice of the Jew:

“Take it! Suck it! Suck it all you whore! Drink my sperm! Milk my balls till they shrivel! Fuck you you fucking Jap bitch fuck!!”

At that moment time stretched out to an eternity-nearly froze in fact-and, in tones and phrases reminiscent of Darth Vader at his most stentorian, I made one of those improbably long and detailed speeches which Marvel superheros from the Steve Ditka era were often wont to make while in the middle of a backflip or some other unlikely maneouver:

“Now suffer shame and degradation as you cause this nasty man’s unwholesome seed to flow and enter your body! Prepare to choke as his vermiculate gametes cockscrew and wiggle their way down your throat, leaving a trail of Pre-Cambrian slime! And you, sir! Feeeeeeel the various sacs and other biological components deep within you flex and swell as they prepare to jet forth a stream of the purest deadly venom, venom refined and purified through the alchemical rites of violence and lust! At this moment, I initiate you into the brotherhood of black philosophers! Shoot! Shoot, you Hebrew bastard, shoot!”

And with a wordless and eldritch howl, I exhorted him to spend. Honking like a bullbat, the Semite discharged into her mouth. The gagging tones from the girl became liquid, desperate, drowning. He clung to the edge of the roof, face apopleptic, eyes nearly rolled back into his head, seemingly at the brink of a heart-attack, gasping, legs unable to hold him upright, as his glands and sacs did their ejaculatory duty. All movement stopped except for the heaving of his chest, he was tethered to Kiko by a cock, as she tried to gulp and swallow and not drown. He suddenly pulls free, arms swinging apelike, head lowered, like a drunken man looking to fight invisible tormentors. Desperate for air, the girl gasps and inadvertently blows a huge, rainbow-colored bubble from the sticky sperm clogging her mouth. The men all spent and stunned like exultants after a rite. The Jew suddenly lurches forward, perhaps looking to pummel or strike the girl, for reasons unknown, but my associate catches him and holds him back. Myself breathing heavily as well, heart racing, order my men into the car with clumsy gestures behind my back, eyes on the Jew all the while. He stares back with confused and enraged eyes like an angry bull.
“You see, you ugly old fuck? Now you understand. I’ve made a philosopher of you as well. No, you can’t come with us. We are taking her there, to kill her, now. In a ceremony that will make me a rich man”

I pointed across town to the company headquarters, which loomed against the black sky gigantic and ablaze, like an oceanliner.

“Go forth and spread the word, and perhaps we shall meet some day in hell!”

These last words yelled out the window over the roar of the engine as we pulled away from the curb. The Jew staggered after the limo, pants around ankles, like a postulant benumbed by some impossible new vision. He shrunk in rapid perspective in the lane of the receding streetlights.

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