The Black Burqa part one
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
My name is Ayesha. I am a pious Muslima, married to Raafid, my four off springs are Maryam, Gamali, Nasif and baby Kaadiha. I wear the veil, because I am a modest woman. I'm not smart like my friend Sfiyah. She seems to know everything. I read my Quran, and I'm still rather ignorant, unskilled and often I don't understand what people are saying. But I'm happy. At least, I was happy, until Raafid decided that he didn't like my cooking. To be honest, I don't blame him - cooking is one of the many skills I've never mastered. My food comes in two varieties, soggy or burned. So for the last two years, we've been at loggerheads. First, he spoke to me and told me to improve my cooking. I asked "How?" but he didn't have an answer. Then he tried to punish me by not joining me in bed. That's supposed to be a punishment? And when neither of those worked, he started beating me. They say that what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. That seemed to be true for me - I noticed that I was thickening in the places where the blows landed. And it was hard muscle, protecting my body from Raafid's rod. He kept it hanging on a hook on the wall, and I knew that when he took it down, I was in for another beating.
Ayesha pious Muslima married Raafid Maryam Gamali Nasif baby Kaadiha veil modest smart Sfiyah Quran ignorant unskilled happy cooking blame mastered food soggy burned loggerheads improve punish bed beating kill stronger thickening places blows muscle protecting body Raafid rod hanging hook wall
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
Respect all, fear nun - part one
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
I run an orphanage, but it's very different from the usual orphanages. I'm Fiona, a nun on loan from St Hilda. You'll remember St Hilda's, the convent with the motto "Nil bonum sine passione", which means "No pain, no gain" and denotes the way we use Septadecaherbis and heavy iron to build massive muscles. The ingredients for the seventeen herbs and spices of Septadecaherbis are, of course, a secret. For a St Hilda's nun, I'm less than the average size - my arms are only 21 inches. My best friend Mandy is 24, Nora is 26. But 21 is usually enough. Mandy says that "biceps aren't everything", and proves it by showing her enormous thighs. I don't have huge thighs, but I do have a useful brain. Anyway, back to the orphanage. Apart from the fact that it's run by nuns seconded from St Hilda, we're very focused towards the off springs. It's bad enough that they're orphans, and don't know the love that only parents can give. We do our best for them, but there's a limit to how much love three nuns can give to 24 off springs. It's not that we lack love. It's that there simply isn't enough time in each day to give them what they'd get from a family, from parents. But here's my clever idea. Dogs. As well as 24 off springs, we have 24 dogs. Dogs will give unlimited love, unconditional love, and will be constantly available playmates. Plus, each off spring has to care for his or her dog, so they learn how to give as well as take.
orphanage different nun St Hilda convent motto pain gain Septadecaherbis heavy iron muscles ingredients secret size arms best friend Mandy Nora thighs brain focused parents love nuns time clever idea dogs unlimited love unconditional love playmates care learn give take
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
The Black Burqa part two
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
Sfiyah visited just now, and she was quite excited. "Ayesha, I have a task for you." Uh-oh, I thought, she wants me to bake a cake, and I'm a really rotten cook. But that wasn't it. "You know Jawaria?" "You mean the one married to Dawud?" "That's right," said Sfiyah. "Well I was with her yesterday, and she has a big bruise on her cheek." "How did that happen?" "She said she bent over and hit it on a tap, but I don't believe that's true." "Why would she lie?" "To avoid the shame of admitting that her husband beats her. You remember, you didn't tell anyone when Raafid was beating you." "So why is it your problem?" I asked. "It's a problem for all of us," she replied. "We are all sisters, and so we must care for each other." "Maybe he had a good reason to beat her?" I wondered. Sfiyah gave me a withering look. "Like Raafid had a good reason to beat you?" "Good point," I admitted. "So what do you want me to do about it?" "I think you should Raafid him. Do what you did to Raafid." "But that was different. He was going to marry off Maryam when she was only thirteen, and I just lost my cool at him." Sfiyah shook her head. "That was the trigger. But the real reason was all the abuse you took over so many years. Well, now Jawaria needs your help." "Why me?"
Sfiyah excited task bake cake cook Jawaria Dawud bruise tap husband beats shame sisters care reason Raafid marry Maryam abuse help
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
Respect all, fear nun part two
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
An inspector calls The letter confirming that the defunding had been rescinded, duly arrived. No surprise - Justin Graham had sworn on a bible that this would be done, and that's binding. But our celebrations were short-lived. That letter was swiftly followed by another, telling us that we were going to be inspected. If that sounded ominous, it's because it was. Not because we were doing anything wrong, but because today's America is a place where officials like the mayor make use of official systems to get what they personally want. Yes, that is corruption, but this is how it is now. We were in his way. He wanted the orphans to be in his privately run, for-profit, orphan machine - and the sisters of St Hilda wanted the orphans to have the best experiences growing up, that we could give them. I told Nancy, the Mother Superior. "Deal with it," she said, not unkindly. "I have great confidence in you, Fiona, and I'll pray for you." Prayer is good, of course, but I wanted more. "Could I borrow one of the novices?" I asked. "What for?" asked the Mother Superior. "When the inspectors call, I want to shadow them, to make sure they don't make up stuff about us. So I need the extra pair of hands. Could I borrow Daisy?" "You mean, Sister Vache?" "Yes." "OK, that's fine, you can have her for two weeks." She was called Sister Vache for a reason. And her nickname was Daisy for the same reason - a cow's udders can hold six gallons of milk, and a cow's teats are about two inches long. Daisy wasn't anywhere near that big - but nicknames don't have to be accurate.
Respect fear inspector defunding rescinded Justin Graham binding celebrations America corruption mayor orphans privately run for-profit orphan machine sisters of St Hilda experiences Nancy Mother Superior Fiona novices inspectors shadow make up Daisy Sister Vache cow udders milk teats nickname
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
The Black Burqa part three
Price: 4.00
(Undisclosed)
I was just burning some toast to go with the soggy beans for Raafid's supper, when Sfiyah turned up, and she had someone with her. Who? I don't know, she was dressed head to toe in a black burqa. "Hey," Sfiyah said. "Hey hey," I replied, "what's the timing for toast again?" She looked at what was pretty much charcoal. "About ten minutes ago," she answered, "this is Asma. She wants to be a Black Burqa." I blinked. A what? Apparently, my appearance at the masjid had led to some confusion, mostly because Sfiyah also wore a black burqa when she went there to douse the lights. So people already thought there were two of us, and if two, why not three? The great thing about a burqa, is that no-one could actually see me. It was like a disguise, only better. So no-one, except me and Sfiyah, knew the secret identity of the Black Burqa. I suppose Raafid might have guessed, but he was too intimidated by me to tell anyone. It must be terrible to live with someone who, at any time, might inflict painful violence on you. I know this, because that's how I had lived for years and years. "Who was that mysterious woman?" people were asking each other, and the guesses were all over the place. Every woman around here was wearing a niqab with a face veil; a burqa was only a small step further. Who was that masked woman? Asma spoke. "I've been through eight years of beatings. And each time he didn't kill me, he made me stronger. And now I want to be like you, a Black Burqa. I want to help all the women who are being trodden on and treated unjustly. We women are supposed to be treated like queens; too many of us get treated like serfs."
burning toast soggy beans Raafid's supper Sfiyah someone dressed black burqa timing charcoal Asma appearance masjid confusion two three burqa disguise secret identity Black Burqa Raafid intimidated painful violence mysterious woman guesses niqab face veil masked woman Asma beatings stronger help women trodden on treated unjustly queens serfs.
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
Respect all, fear nun - part three
Price: 4.00
(Story: Diana the Valkyrie)
The Westingfield Baptist Church I thought that things were going well. We'd avoided the possible defunding, we'd avoided being closed down on hygiene grounds, and the future looked rosy. Hah! We'd even managed to get an increase in funding, on account of Oakfield Developments repenting of their sins, and the world looked golden. Hah! The off spring at the orphanage were happy, we three nuns were happy (they even named a brand of tobacco after us), and the dogs, as ever, were happy. Happiness bloomed all over. And, for the third time, hah! Satan had not finished throwing his tribulations at us. The first sign that something was going wrong, was when I heard chanting coming from the road outside the orphanage. I listened hard. It sounded like "Stop the nonsense". I had to google that, and what I found was totally shocking. I called a staff meeting; me, Mandy and Nora. And I explained to them what nonsense is, and they were as shocked as I was. "I have to ask," I said, "but are either of you ...?" "Certainly not!" and "No way!" were the answers, followed by "I'm surprised you even thought you needed to ask!" "Well, I said. "Nuns have been known to ..." "To what," said Nora. I looked hard at Mandy. "What?" she said. "Candles," I said. She blushed.
Diana Valkyrie Westingfield Baptist Church defunding closed down hygiene grounds funding Oakfield Developments repenting sins orphanage nuns tobacco dogs happiness Satan tribulations chanting staff meeting Mandy Nora shocked ask candles blushed
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
The Black Burqa part four
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
The patriarchy become afraid of the Black Burqa movement, which is spreading rapidly. There's a media campaign, orchestrated by the Ministry of Truth. trying to discredit them. So the Black Burdas raid the Ministry of Truth and help the Minister to understand the true meaning of the Quran. Ayesha breaks one of his ribs, then squeezes him so hard that he can't breathe, and his bladder voids. They crushed the gates of the compound into a tangle of useless steel piled in a heap, and they left a black burqa there to show what had happened.
patriarchy Black Burqa movement spreading media campaign Ministry of Truth discredit Black Burdas raid Minister true meaning Quran Ayesha ribs squeezes breathe bladder voids crushed gates compound useless steel heap black burqa
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
Respect all, fear nun - part four
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
We learn about nuns and candles, and the part they play in the life of a nun. Fiona dreams about Satan, and does a deal with the devil; the off spring of the orphanage will all get Xboxes in return for Fiona's soul. Fiona now thinks she's infested by Satan, so Sam does an exorcism for her, which involves some very heavy sex. But the Xboxes have already started to appear in the hands of the off springs. Where could they have come from? Then Fiona realizes. If it was all just a dream, then it didn't matter. And if it wasn't a dream, Satan was lying to her; it's what he does.
Respect fear nun prayer gym crack lightning building weights surveyor St Hilda's biceps habit discount
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
The Black Burqa part five
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
The problem was this. Even the most muscular Black Burqa, like Naamah, looked like any other woman in a burqa; that was the whole purpose of the garment. And no-one could tell who was wearing a black burqa as a fashion statement, and who was one of the muscle queens that could terrorise any man unlucky enough to find himself embraced by her thighs. But then something unusual happened. The Black Burqas have a web site, so that people can contact us and apply to be an official Black Burqa. We won't take just anyone who applies. You have to be able to bench press 300 kilograms, which neatly eliminates all men, as well as all women who don't have the musculature that every Black Burqa should have. This is prominently stated on the blackburqas.com web site. Of course, that web site is banned in most countries. I stood at the "incoming" area at the airport wearing my best black burqa. I noticed that men edged away from me nervously, but the women seemed to like being nearby. I didn't have to wait long before the flight from Chicago disgorged its passengers, and Phillida was obvious, because she was the only woman getting off that flight wearing a dark blue burqa. I stepped forward. "Phillida Watkins, I presume?" and we both laughed. "Coffee first," I said, and we went to the ridiculously over-priced airport coffee shop. "Your husband allows you out without a guardian?" she asked. I snorted. "Raafid allows me to do whatever I tell him to allow, He's tasted the crushing grip of my thighs, and he doesn't want to ever feel that again. But," I continued, "tell me about you."
Black Burqas Naamah muscle queens web site bench press airport Chicago Phillida Watkins guardian Raafid thighs
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |
The Black Burqa part six
Price: 3.00
(Undisclosed)
"Those high powered rifles can go straight through even Kevlar" he told me. "Yes," I agreed. Actually, I was surprised that no-one had guessed that we'd kitted out our women with steel plate armor - armor much heavier than an ordinary man could carry. And that steel armor, weighing about a hundred pounds would deflect an AR-15 round. We knew this, because we'd tested it. "But what if the shooter had gone for a head shot?" That was certainly a possibility, but gun training was to aim for the Centre mass, because a head is a much smaller target. "If he'd gone for a head shot, it would certainly have been "Goodnight Gracie", but we sent in three Black Burqas, and even if one was killed, it would be a good trade for the lives of the thirty off springs that he was holding hostage." "That's incredibly brave," said the interviewer. "We're women," I replied. "And we're mothers. off springs are the purpose of our existence. You'd need to be a mother yourself to understand, but here's a simple way to put it. The female of the species is more deadly than the male." I continued. "Men talk. Men negotiate. Men compromise, and while that is appropriate for many purposes, when it comes to off springs, there is no doubt, no hesitation and no compromise. Our Black Burqas had one and only one purpose. If the police had tried to stop them, they would have been swept aside. If one had been shot then the other two would have continued to rescue those off springs." "The shooter was in a real mess when the police went in, wasn't that excessive?" he asked. I repeated, "There is no compromise. No negotiation. Anyone who threatens our off springs, gets the immediate white-hot fury of the female of the species. In this case, what happened exactly was, a punch to the belly to incapacitate him and double him up, a knee lifted to meet the face coming down and break the nose and teeth, and a double-fist rabbit punch to knock him out and lay him flat on the ground. And when a Black Burqa delivers that triple whammy, the recipient is knocked cold for the next several hours. And if it's delivered too hard and the guy dies, then we're not going to weep for him, he threatened our off springs with death." "And if in the course of taking down an active shooter with a gun, he gets injured, then I'm not going to apologies to him. Even if he loses a few fingers when the gun is seized and is unable to fire a gun in future, then that's just a consequence of his decision to pick up a gun and kill our off springs."
rifles Kevlar steel plate armour AR-15 head shot Black Burqas hostage mothers deadly police excessive threat active shooter gun consequences kill
| Add to Cart | View with Membership |