Trample the Mullah!

[jalan]

Lying under that shady oak in Hyde Park with my girlfreind, it was hard to believe I was in Central London. The "madding crowd" indeed seemed far as I lay on the grass, watching my girlfriends toes playing with her flip-flops. But the moment was too good to last. The sound of excited, angry voices shattered my tranquility and let us know that we had unintentionally wandered onto the edge of London's famed "Speaker's Corner". Some call it a "Shrine to Democracy and Tolerance", I call it a "nut-farm". For those of you unfamiliar with the place, Speaker's Corner is basically a section of Hyde Park where anyone, from Marxist advocaters to right-wing extremists can literally 'stand on a soapbox' and air their opinions to a crowd of supporters or heckelers.
On this occassion, the lion's share of noise pollution was emitting from an angry looking middle-aged man with a black beard and flowing white robe. Upon inquiring, I was told that the speaker was the infamous Mullah of Finsbury Park Mosque, who gained media noteriety in the UK by claiming that "hundreds of British Muslims" had gone to Afghanistan to kill British and US troops sent there.
Since there was a wall of young Pakistani men surrounding him, the crowd refrained from heckeling him. But it was then that I noticed the tall brunette pushing her way to the front of the listeners. She had one of the most fantastic figures I had ever laid eyes upon, accentuated by her tight white mini-dress and highheels. My girlfreind had to nudge me back to reality.
Just as the Mullah began condemning unveiled women as 'whores', the beautiful brunette stepped foward, slapping the Mullah right across his face! The crowd was stunned into silence, as was the Mullah, who just stood there, hand on cheek, with an expression of utter shock.
"How dare you!" shouted the woman. "How dare you use the tolerance afforded you to preach intolerance! You come to this society for a better life and the freedom to believe according to conscience and then you have the nerve to condemn it and encourage young men to wage 'jihad' against it! Well this is one woman who won't be seen dead in a burkah!"
I was impressed with this little impromto speech. She had a good point and moreover, was brave enought to make it. But what she did next, took some believing! Grabbing the Mullah's beard, she yanked the speachless man off his soapbox and threw him on ground. Stepping up, she stood on him, full weight, with both high-heeled feet digging into his chest! "Now you're going to be my HUMAN soapbox, little man! So lie still while I lecture on the virtues of Matriarchal society!" Turning to address the crowd, she called out, "I want every woman who thinks this pathetic excuse for a man is a bigot and a chauvenist pig, to step up on him with me." At first, everyone was too stunned to respond; they were still trying to come to terms with what they were seeing. But after a short silence, my girlfriend stepped foward giggling. I tried to pull her back but she shoved me away and told me to stop spoiling her fun or she would get the sexy brunette to tread on me as well. Not wanting to risk it, I let go of her arm. My girlfreind, still giggling, kicked off her flip-flops and jumped up, landing hard on the Mullah's stomach. The man wheezed as my girlfreind knocked the wind out of him. "That's what I'm talking about!" cried the brunette. "Now don't anymore of you girls want to teach this bigot a lesson?" Seeing the fun my girlfreind was having, a pair of college-aged girls stepped foward. Their bare feet looked as if they'd been walking unshod around London's grimey streets as their soles were black with filth. The red-head of the pair stepped up first, planting both bare feet on the man's face. "Can't you see her feet need cleaning?" shouted the brunette, stamping her heel on his chest. "Put that pathetic tongue of yours to work!" The Mullah obeyed causing the red-head to squeal with delight as she endulged in the lovely sensation of the soft warm tongue licking her filthy soles and between her toes. Since it appeared to be the only space available, her pretty blonde freind stepped up onto the man's vulnerable crotch. As she stood there, she felt the organ beneath her feet begin to swell. When it dawned on her what was happening she began screaming with laughter. "I don't believe it -he's got a hard-on!" she cried out. By this point, there were more than just a few sniggers in the crowd. "Well, we'll just have to punish the dirty little pig for his indiscretion, won't we!" With that, the sexy brunette began jumping on the Mullah's chest; her high heels seeming to sink right in. My girlfreind, not needing further encouragment began jumping on his stomach while the red-head and blonde began jumping on his face and crotch respectively. This prompted a surge of women, some wearing heels, some flats, others barefoot, to surge foward and begin kicking him and stamping on his hands, his balls, or whatever inch of his body wasn't being abused by another woman's foot. The sound of breaking bones, screams of agony and shreals of laughter, was sickening. By the time the frenzied women had exerted all their energy, the man was but a bloody, broken and bruised mess, pleading for mercy.
"Now!" said the brunette who had started the whole spectacle. "Who's the superior sex?" The Mullah managed to form the letter "w" but was too exausted to complete the word. "I can't hear you, little shit!" said the brunette, placing one six-inch heel back onto his chest. "I said, who's the superior sex?! Well? Speak up!"
With all the energy he could muster, the Mullah, wide-eyed with fear, blurted out; " WOMEN ARE THE SUPERIOR SEX!....Ohhhhhhohhh...please...no more!"
"And what are you?" demanded the sexy brunette.
"Uhh...uh...I...I...I am...a...a...a chauvenist pig, unworthy to lick your feet!" replied the mullah. "Well," said the sexy brunette, folding her arms with a satisfied smile across her face, "I think we've re-educated the little bigot, don't you girls?"
Eventually, the crowd parted, leaving the mullah alone, still lying on the ground; the latest convert to and true believer in a new religion: Feminist Extremism!

[Ste Letto]

Great story.

How about something similar with Osama Bin Laden. Maybe a crack team of all female commandos could infiltrate his hideout, or he could be brought back to the US and get trampled there.

[Giblet]

"Some call it a "Shrine to Democracy and Tolerance", I call it a 'nut-farm'. "

Those are both excellent descriptions of the place. A pretty good description of democracy itself for that matter.
:p

Nice story.

Cheers!

Scott

[door_step]

Great story, but it leaves me with a question: was this Mullah punished or in fact rewarded for preaching intolerance?? :bugeyes: :eyebrows:

doorstep

[ckj03]

nice story a mix of heel an barefoot trample :)

[jalan]

:cool:

After a month in hospital Mullah Omar was finally discharged and returned to his
spacious Kensington apartment.

His wife, Shazir, who had visited him frequently at the hospital, helped her husband out of their
Mercedes, shooing away the Somali chauffer when he tried to help.

Entering the white-marble lobby of their apartment building, Mullah Omar breathed a sigh of relief;
"Home at last!" he thought to himself.

Stepping out of the elevator, Aisha, their pretty young servant girl, was standing at their
apartment, waiting to greet her returning master.

For a split-second, Omar thought he saw his wife give the servant girl a knowing smile,
but he dismissed it as his imagination.

Once inside, Omar felt his old self once again!

He licked his lips as his eyes roamed over the servant girl's nubile young body.

He had been sleeping with Aisha ever since she had come to London to work as his servant.
This was no secret, for it was understood that a man needed several women to pleasure him.
If it weren't for the barbaric Western laws, he would've made her his 2nd wife long ago.

"Get in the bedroom and wait for me..... naked!" commanded the horny old Mullah.

Aisha giggled. "I think not Omar."

The Mullah was speechless!
Not only had this sex-slave dared to call him by his first name, she was even defying him!

"YOU DARE DEFY ME?!?!" Omar spat as he raised his hand to strike the girl's face.

But before he could, Aisha's lovely, bare, caramel-coloured foot swung up into the Mullah's ball-sack.
Omar doubled over, holding his crotch.
Aisha then used her toes to shove him backwards so that he lay flat on his back.

..........................*CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP*.......................


The sound of someone applauding rung from the other side of the room.
It was his 'devoted' long-suffering wife, Shazir.

"Well done Aisha.... you did well!" she smirked.

"Thank you Maam" Aisha grinned.

Already barefoot, Shazir placed her lovely pedicured foot, adorned with anklets and toe-rings,
onto her husbands chest, tickling her own toes with his long black beard as she did so.

"Now, boy.... I've been doing a great deal of thinking while you've been in hospital.... a GREAT deal of thinking!
And a few things are going to change around here!!" she declared, with an authority in her voice that Omar
had never heard in her before.

As the pessure of her soft sole against his chest increased, Omar began wishing he hadn't abused
and beat her quite so much.

"For a start, I will no longer be wearing that ridiculous Burkah everytime we go out!
I am an apostate.... no longer under Islamic regulation!" she declared triumphantly,
stamping her lovely bare foot on his gut for emphasis.

"BLASPHEMmmMmOoOaArRrrRr"
The Mullah's cry of indignation was cut off by Aisha's foot being shoved into his mouth.

"Shut up you old fart!" the ex-servant girl shouted angrily.
Finally! She was able to begin her revenge for every time she had been forced to sleep with
the disgusting, fat, wrinkled old man.

Shazir laughed out loud at the sight of Aisha's delicate foot
pressing her husbands tongue back into his throat.

"Pay back's a MONSTER, ain't it?!" she winked down at him.

Oh yes... life was about to change for the venerable Mullah.

:kissbutt:

[wallcrawler]

Excellent work, jalan! :D

Payback is a MONSTER, indeed! Love the story thusfar, friend. Please do continue the forced foot worship and ballbusting. Thanks for writing such an enjoyable piece.

wallcrawler

[kadddooo]

How about one story on G. W. Bush?

Ok I'll do it. ;)


Man, have we solved all the problems in the world, LOL

[jalan]

Wazir and Muhammad entered the white-marble lobby of Mullah Omar’s apartment building.
"Excuse me," said the kindly looking, white-haired old gentleman at the front desk. "May I be of service to you gentlemen?"
Wazir looked down in disgust at the old man whose badge bore the infidel name "FRED".
Next to the name-badge was a Victoria Cross medal which Fred had earned saving lives when the Nazis had blitzed London in WW2.
Old Fred had seen a lot of changes since then. He’d seen post-war London rebuilt. He’d seen the waves of immigrants from all over the world move in. He’d seen Mosques being built all over the city. He’d seen a lot of changes.
But Fred was a tolerant, open-minded sort of chap and bore no ill-feeling towards men such as Wazir and Muhammad.
Unfortunately for Fred, Wazir and Muhammad were not so tolerant or open-minded:
"We don’t need your f***** help!" Wazir spat angrily. "Why? Are you worried we’ve got bombs strapped to us or something?" Muhammad chimed in.
"Oh! No, no gentlemen… it’s not like that!" stuttered Fred, feeling extremely intimidated - his nerves were no longer made of steel as they had been back in the war.
"I have to enquire after every guest who ent.."
"Yeah right!" Wazir cut him off. "You’re just a racist, ignorant Islamaphobe!" he screamed.
Fred's quivering mouth and trembling chin were enough to let Wazir and Muhammad know he was scared. They smirked as they sauntered up to the elevator and Muhammad pressed the 8th floor button.

Stepping out, they knocked on the door of Mullah Omar’s apartment.
Aisha, the Mullah’s one-time sex-slave, opened the door.
"Where’s your Master, girl?" said Wazir sharply.
"I'll let him know you’re here Masters" Aisha replied.
"Oh… and after we’ve finished our meeting" said Wazir, "you can suck both of our c**ks!"
The two young men laughed at the joke. But Aisha’s beautiful face had a smile of her own across it…. Oh yes, she was going to enjoy this.

After sometime, Mullah Omar joined his guests in the sitting room. He was, as usual, dressed in flowing white robes which contrasted with his long black beard.
The two younger men got up to greet him. "Assalam Alaykum! It is good to see you recovered and out of hospital after the incident in Hyde Park."
"Yes" said the Mullah, in much softer, weaker voice than Wazir and Muhammad were used to hearing. "I am lucky to be alive."
"We will avenge you Mullah Omar. We promise." said Muhammad. "Even if it means killing a policeman in order to obtain the names of the women who trampled you."
"In the mean time," Wazir interrupted, trying to steer the conversation toward the purpose of their visit, "allow us to update you on our progress regarding the plans to bomb the Synagogue in Fleet Street."
At mention of this, Muhammad couldn't supress his glee. "Praise Allah! It will be wonderful to see the blood of those filthy Jewish pigs flowing through the streets of London!"
"NO!" cried Mullah Omar suddenly, as though some of his old authority and strength had returned to his voice. "There will be no Synagogue bombing!"
Wazir and Muhammad couldn’t believe their ears. They stared at the Mullah dumbfounded.
"What?! But we’ve been planning this for months! We’ve already bought all the semte…"
"NO!" Omar cried again, even more forcefully. "Things have changed…. I…. I am no longer…. permitted to partake in such things."
"Permitted?!" said an incredulous Wazir. "I don’t understand!?"
The fear on Mullah Omar's countenance was clear as he leaned in close to the two men and began speaking in the faintest whisper, as though he were about to tell them some terrifying secret.

But before he could get more than two words out, a voice from behind them thundered, "LET ME EXPLAIN!" Turning around, Wazir and Muhammad saw Aisha and Shazir (the Mullah’s beautiful young wife) as they smashed saucepans into both their faces.
Both men were knocked out cold, instantly and slumped to the floor……

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wazir was the first to regain consciousness, and as he did, a fear began creeping over him as he became aware that he was in some kind of dungeon and that his legs and arms were strapped down to the stone floor.
"This floor is too cold for my bare feet, Shazir…. Perhaps I'll warm them up on this human rug here!"
Wazir looked up to see Aisha standing above him with a sly smile on her face.
Putting one bare foot on his crotch, she stepped up onto her captive.
She then placed her other, sexy bare foot on his stomach.
The young woman sighed as a satisfied smile spread across her beautiful face.
This was going to be fun!

TO BE CONTINUED….

[faceseat4jeans]

great story, powerful writing, thanks!:bananadan

[jalan]

^I started writing this story way back in 2002 but never finished it.
Since today is the 10th Anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist atrocities, I thought it an appropriate time to give this story an ending.
Hope you enjoy it!


[All quotations from the Koran are from the 2008 Oxford University Press M. A. S. Abdel Haleem translation.]


************************************************** ****


"Get the camcorder Aisha!" said Shazir. "I'm going to post this online for posterity!"
Muhammad looked up, an expression of fear and shock on his face, but Shazir pushed his head back against the floor with her foot.
"That's right, pig! I'm going to put this on that website where all your fanatical friends like to congregate!
You all think you're such 'big men' with your 'beheading videos' Well now I'm sending a message to them!"

Aisha came back into the spacious living room with the video camera.
Shazir placed her right foot on Wazir's upturned face and her left on Muhammad's.

Aisha began recording....

"Well hello gentlemen!" Shazir smiled into the camera. "When you clicked on this link you were probably expecting to witness the gory beheading of some helpless Western reporter.
But I have something much better for you!"

Aisha panned the camera down to Shazir's feet. Shazir lifted her right foot to reveal Wazir's bruised and bloodied-face to the camera.

"This is Wazir. He used to be a 'brave soldier of Islam'. But now he's a whimpering little slave, begging for mercy!"
Shazir slapped her foot back down on Wazir's face. There was an audible **CRUNCH** as the bone in his nose broke and he let out a weak moan of agony.
Now Shazir lifted her left foot. "And this is Muhammad. He used to be part of a cell that spread terror from London to Bali. But as you can see, now he's the one who's terrified!"
Aisha zoomed in on Muhammad's face, which did indeed look filled with fear... not to mention that it bore an unmistakable bare footprint right across its length!

"Now I know you boys are all familiar with the Koran and Hadith. So I'd like to quote a few of my favorite parts. But as you shall see, I'm going to infuse them with new meaning." she smiled seductively.
Transfering all her weight to Wazir's chest now, she began quoting from the Koran:

"Sura 8:12 - I will cast terror into the hearts of those who disbelieve. Therefore strike off their heads and strike off every fingertip of them."

As she said this, she jumped into the air and came crashing down with both feet on Wazir's stomach. Her soles sunk deep into his tummy as all the air was pushed out of it.
Utterly unable to make a sound, all Wazir could do was let out a long, wet wheezing sound.


"Sura 9:5", she continued. "When the sacred months have passed, slay the infidel wherever you find them...." **CRACK** Her feet had broken Wazir's rib cage.
"...and take them captives..." **SPLAT** His spleen had burst.
"...and besiege them..." **CRUNCH**
"...and lie in wait for them in every ambush." **SQUISH**

Shazir stepped off Wazir, who had fallen unconcious from the pain.
"Would you like to continue Aisha?" she asked the servant girl.
"I thought you'd never ask!" Aisha beamed.

Handing the camcorder to Shazir, she stepped up on Muhammad, who had just watched in horror as his friend Shazir had been trampled half-to-death.

"Sura 5:33!", said Aisha. "The punishment", **STOMP**
"of those who wage war against Allah" **STOMP**
"and His messenger.." **STOMP**
"is only this; that they should be crucified or their hands and their feet should be cut off."
With these last words, she jumped on Muhammad's head. **THUD**

He was knocked out cold.

"Now, bring in the Mullah!" said Shazir, placing the camera on a table as it continued filming.

Aisha wheeled Mullah Omar to the centre of the room, then tipped the wheelchair over so that he fell next to the unconcious forms Wazir and Muhammad.

"You bitches are DEAD!!!", he screamed with demonic fury.
"Allah curse you! I'll gouge your eyes out! I'll cut your whore tongues out! I'll stab your filthy cunts! I'll burn your skin off! I'll bite off your tits! I'll..." **SMACK**
Shazir's bare foot slapped his face to the floor.

"Now, now, my dear husband. You must wait for your introduction." Shazir smiled as she turned to the camera.
"This is Mullah Omar of London's infamous Finsbury Park Mosque. Aisha and I are going to show you what happens to pigs like him now that the 'Revolution of Female Supremacy' has begun!"

Shazir and Aisha both stepped onto Mullah Omar's prone form.
For the old Mullah, it was like re-living his worst nightmare; re-living the day he had been trampled by all those women in Hyde Park.

"But we're not completely heartless," Shazir smirked. "We're going to quote my husband's favorite parts of the Koran as we crush him like the coackroach he is! Now, let me see...
Ah yes! Let's start with one of your favourites, hubby dearest! Sura 2:223: 'Your women are your fields, so go into your fields whichever way you like.' " **SMACK**

"Oh yes, Omar hates women." Aisha chimed in.
"Another favourite sura of his is 4:34: 'If you fear highhandedness from your wives, remind them, then ignore them when you go to bed, then hit them.' " **STOMP**

"Well Omar hates a LOT of people", Shazir scowled down, as she dug her foot into her husband's face.
"His favourite Hadith is Tabari 7:97: 'Kill any Jew who falls under your power.' " **CRACK**

"Oh yes," Aisha smirked mirthlessly.
"Why just the other day, he was in the mosque quoting Ibn Ishaq 992: Kill those who disbelieve in Allah."
Aisha looked down at the Mullah in disgust, then spat on his face.


"Ibn Ishaq 327!" shourted Shazir.
"A prophet must slaughter before collecting captives. Allah desires killing them to manifest the religion!"
Her beautiful bare feet landed on Omar's head with a terrific **WHUMP**


"Sura 48:29! Muhammad is the messenger of Allah. And those with him are ruthless against the disbelievers", Shazir screamed as she continued to ruthlessly jump on Omar's head.


"Bukhari 5:58!" Aisha screamed at the top of her lungs. She looked positively enraged now!
"Muhammad wrote the marriage contract with Aisha when she was a girl of 6 years of age, and he consummated that marriage when she was 9 years old." **CRACK**
Aisha, who was named after the Prophet Muhammad's child-bride she had just referenced, had jumped on Omar's neck.

"You broke his neck!" Shazir exlaimed, eyes wide in shock.
Shazir and Aisha looked at each other for a moment... then burst out laughing.

"Well, I'd hoped to keep him alive a little longer; I was just getting warmed up! Still, I think we've made our point!"


************************************************** ******

The video camera was shut off. The video itself was posted onto many sites frequented by Islamists. And curiously, it proved to be a powerful tool in the 'war on terror'.

THE END

************************************************** ******

[smother sitter]

Man, what an old story. You started this way before I joined. No wonder I never saw this. It a pretty great story. and the timing was perfect. Like the way the story end. It may not end the war of terror, but it entertain all of us

[Herboy27]

Dear Moderators,

It is my kind request that you monitor and ban/edit this story as you see fit.

I believe it breeches MDFF rules and entails elements of racism. Not to mention the author making no disclaimers since the beginning of the story.

My objections are not strong towards the first parts of the story, but my true concern is with the part where the author chooses to use "quotes" of the Quran in the story. These quotes are snubs used horribly out of context and the meanings they convey to some uninformed readers could be abhorrently misleading.

I can easily imagine this story fueling a lot of unnecessary and misguided hatred and discrimination that the world can definitely do without.

I truly hope that the author wrote this story simply as erotic fiction and would be open to my comments.

Yours,
HerBoy

[jalan]

^This story is intended to be humorous and erotic... nothing more.

However, as an ex-Muslim myself, I can say with credibility that the suras quoted here mean exactly what they sound like they mean.
If necessary, I will quote the original Arabic and provide the context in which they were written. It won't make them sound any more 'pc' but it will invalidate the notion that these quotes are 'misleading.'

Moreover, the story doesn't mention 'race' or ethnicity. The misuse of the word 'racism' is disingenuous and manipulative.

[Herboy27]

Dear Jalan,

First of all thanks for your speedy and non-hostile response.

I assure you I had/have no intention of manipulation or disingenuity. Although you chose to use the word racism yourself within the context of the story, but it is still true, my criticism was not largely based on a concern with racial discrimination but rather fear of breeding further religious intolerance.

I trust that you have strong faith in your interpretations of these verses. Yet this is a far more complex matter than that of simple quotation and citation. I know for a fact that there are many other interpretations that may hold very different meanings.

But in all cases, I do not believe an erotic story board is the place for such a discussion or debate (the Flame Pit possibly a more relevant location? :D). The stories, as you have said, are primarily intended to be erotic, drama, and often humorous. Such red-zones, as you have entered in the final chapter, are unnecessary in my own opinion to tamper with in such a forum.

[bottombob]

I think it's great this should be posted in highliter