Hostage

~ HOSTAGE ~

the Islam's whore

( translated by Clara )

September 2004, Bassorah Great Mosque, Irak (source An Nahar, Beyrouth)

Addressing a crowd of several thousands of worshippers, Imam Abdel Sattar Bahadii, a follower of Moqtadar as Sadr, offered a reward of 250.000 Iraki Dinars (the equivalent of 170 Euros) for the capture of a female British soldier.

“ Faster, faithless bitch. The reward is ours … your arse, too !"

I had been captured and thrown into a stinking car. My hands were tied, my mouth gagged and my breathing wild as the plastic bag over my head stuck to my nostrils. I believe I managed to walk with dignity. I am sure I did.

I was forced to my knees and the plastic bag taken off my head.
I could take full breaths which filled my lungs. Thank you sirs, thank you my abductors

“Before stripping you we’re going to hang you!"

I started to tremble and whine from under the tape over my mouth as they showed me a rope with a slip knot.

They took off my belt and attached me by the neck.
They pulled the rope tight, forcing me to pull myself up on my toes. Which helped them to take off my boots.

“Let’s see what’s under this uniform"

The ropes forced my legs apart at one end and strangled me at the other.
I was powerless and shivering as they bared my breasts.

“Private Kendra Tancred ? The name of an unbeliever. We’ll call you whore from now on. Ha ha ha!"

They ripped off my uniform and cut the thin straps of my panties.
My face became red with shame: I was naked in front of these men.

“ You love it, ay Bitch ? Just like all the unbelievers“

My god, the bastard who was tweaking my nipples
and ploughing my sex stank of sweat, garlic and cheap tobacco.
Oh god, he was raping me.

“ So, here is one on those British whores.
Allah bless you, Ahmed and Kamil.
You are proud and courageous fighters"

A bidet, a shower a bath. Even an enema …
I felt so full of sperm. It was dripping down my thighs.

“ Hang her higher so we can see how well the bitch resists"

Aaaaah. My feet left the ground and the rope tightened around my neck.
God save the Queen … and me too.

I struggled and tried to free myself. In vain.
My lungs began to burn and a black veil slowly engulfed me.

“ Make the whore dance again. Let’s see her swing her tits and arse”.

“ Yeah ! Look at her shake it ! “

I yowled as the whip sliced against my breasts and belly and …and …
and then, to my shame, I let myself go and peed on myself.

“ This infidel must learn Islam’s law.
She must be its slave. Brace her with irons"

Unattached, I fell to the floor.
My breath came in huge gulps.
Neither the leather burns on my skin, nor the strong smell of urine, hampered my desire for oxygen.

“ These rivets, once hammered into place, will permanently fix your slave irons.
Ahmed, go ahead.”

My neck was placed on a concrete block holding half of the heavy iron collar and I waited for them to seal my destiny.

The hammer blows rang like an alarm. I became painfully aware of my fate.
Until that moment I had felt separate from my body as though I were watching a film.
But when the shameful collar was riveted together I knew that it was all too true.

Then my wrists, my ankles … oh Mother, help me.

“ Let’s try out the whore "

They hung me up by the feet and then the two Imams undressed.
I was their slave and they were going to use me.

I thought my back would break.
The collar pulled so hard on my neck it nearly strangled me.
As a physical reflex my mouth opened to gulp for breath.
The Imam, taking immediate advantage of this, stuffed his manhood into my mouth while the other, the fat one, tore at my belly with his.

“ Suck, slave. Go on. Right down.
Unless you prefer the whip ? “

“ Fill her mouth and arse to clean those shameful parts despite her unholy soul”

Water spurted up me, by mouth and anus. I felt my belly swell up and up.
The pain in my dilating intestines was terrible.

I suffocated, coughed,
tried to eject the water but instead I just swallowed.
Bile flowed up burning in my throat and nose, but I swallowed.

“Open your mouth, whore! You’re going to be filled and corked up all night, just like a sperm jar,”

After my mouth, my sex and anus were plugged.
I was filled. And corked.

“ Move. Your whore’s boudoir is ready “

“A soldier never loses his identity tag, right ? "

A long corridor. And holes in the wall filled with other female prisoners.
Each one in a hole, attached by a collar like mine.
The fat imam showed me my tag.
At the end of a safety pin …

Mmmmmmrrrrr....

“ You’re going to stay full all night, slave”

And all night I was tortured by an unbearable need to …
empty everything.
Finally, in the morning, they came back.

They unplugged me and I could at last let go.
In front of them. Without once thinking about the disgusting show I was offering them.

“ You will be pierced and branded. So that all muslims shall now that you are Islam’s whore”

Nooooooo !

“ Just above her clitoris. So she’ll be constantly on heat”

Aaaaahhh !

A clamp pulled out my tender skin and a sharp taper pierced me.
My nipples, my private lips, my nose …

… then my tongue.
Ahmed immediately inserted a ring in each burning hole.

My belly was doubly stripped as they shaved my pubic hairs.

Then they branded me. In front, just above my sex,

then behind, on each buttock.
The first one was branded with a crescent, deeply embedded in my flesh and, as my mind was wavering because of the pain and I thought it was all over, they branded the other buttock with a star.

“ You’re such an obscene whore, with your cinched waist, stockings and sandals.
And these handles to hold you while you’re raped.”

After having untied me they dressed me like a whore, like THEIR whore. “

“ This is to keep you wide open. “

A metal stake-like object, with a threaded head,
was thrust into my vagina and blocked on the bar which kept my legs apart.
I would soon feel the unbearable presence …

“ Go forward, slave, you must serve the Imams “

With each step I took the stake turned inside me.
It felt like it was screwing my belly.
And these sandals which were so hard to keep on my feet.

“ Bend over. Show your arse. Show us who it belongs to “

“ Keep your tongue out, bitch, and waggle it. We want to hear the bell “

I couldn’t hold the tray by the handles.
My breasts became deformed like an old woman’s, stopping the tray from falling.
The rings pulled horribly at my nipples. And my outstretched tongue, twitching the little bell, dribbled onto my breasts.

“ Faster, slave. The imams don’t like waiting "

The whip caught me off guard.
I screamed and tried to escape its lash but the movement lifted my thigh and forced the stake deeper inside me.
Trembling with pain I managed to avoid spilling my tray and, although moaning, I obeyed.

“ Here you are at last, lazy bitch “

“ The champagne is for you. To celebrate the new whore ”

They suspended me by my arms before extracting the stake.

“ Whip her well. It will make her hotter ”

What followed was a nightmare.

They used and abused me.
My belly and my mouth were receptacles for their perversity.

Then I was handed over to the terrorists.
To be their free whore, as chalked up on the boards.

The ring in my sex and my collar were nailed to a wooden frame, my breasts attached by chains.
And it was in this position that I was handed over to those disgusting men.

It lasted all day and all night.
There was no end to it.

“ This is for the television and the papers. The world will see how we treat Islam’s enemies “

The Imams came to fetch me in the morning in order to film me.

“ Go on, Ahmed, haul her up “

“ Here’s a well trussed chicken all ready on the skewer “

My arms pulled so far back, making breathing difficult but thanks to that I avoided being impaled.

But slowly the muscles in my arms seized up and as a black veil fell over my consciousness I felt the stake slowly tearing my vagina.
I fainted.

"Move your ass, slut"

A wrench, an intense pain. I regained consciousness on the rough ground.
They were raping me in turn and my tortured body jumped with each crop blow that beat down on my buttock, my thighs

"Pack her well, Ahmed"

Sure I was. Savagely tied....

"Where you'll live, you won't need your mane.

... my head shaved...

"Come in there, animal ! "

... and pushed into this confined and stinking box.

He pressed my shoulders and the plugs went deep in me...

...pushing the rope that hurt my sex, scraping my already wounded intimity

The yoke fixed my neck...

... and the box was locked. Only a hole in front of my mouth let some light enter.

Alas ! An enormous cock plug found his way, filled deeply my mouth, touching the back of my thoat.
I moved back my head. I tried...

I was nailed in this box by the plugs and the cock.
My knees only were on the rough plancks, my ankles tied very high.
My knees, and also my sexe. Quartered by the plugs and the sharp-edged frame.

"Good-bye, faithless bitch.
Hope your futur owner will give you an infernal life"

I did'nt hear anything because the box moved.
All those monstruous objects that were filling me, cutting me, wrenching me,
tied up again, swelled again and became dreadfull torturing instruments.
The cock knocked my tonsils, I stifled, I choked.
I felt sick and floods of bile filled my mouth.
My bladder freed under me,
my plugged bowels fused and I started sweating abundantly.
An animal stink diffused in the box.
I grunted, I bend my muscles to find back a sort of balance.
In vain.
I probably screamed with pain and despair.

Then I fainted.

- THE END -

Meet Kendra again in : " the whore of the cargo"

Text and pictures by Agnès
Translation by Clara (and Agnès for the last part)