Mandy in Dubai

That night, she was lying on her mattress in the corner of the room with the moonlight lighting up her room. She felt restless. Her mind kept thinking about the day. She thought about her mother. She thought about how men were always trying to control her. She thought about how good her pussy would feel. And she was determined not masturbate anymore. She would be a good person from now on.

She was aware of her breath going in and out. She hated that. She wanted to disappear into sleep. Instead, the sweat clung to her skin. Itches on her skin kept her scratching and moving around. She wanted the weight of a comforter on her to cuddle. It would have been too warm. All she wanted was to sleep. Yet, thoughts about her inability to get a real job in America and finding love in a Muslim family chased her. She remembered what hot boys smelled like in college. She must not masturbate.

Eventually, she fell asleep. Relieved, she found herself walking through snow barefoot. The snow was deliciously cool. It wasn't freezing or painful. It felt wonderful on her bare legs. Her feet were sinking deeply into the snow. She looked up and saw that she was high up on a mountain in the Alps. The sun was warm and friendly. She felt such innocent joy running through the snow like a child. She looked up at the winter forest with the green pine trees up ahead. Adventure excitement filled her heart.

And then a unicorn stepped out of the forest. It had gray fur and a long twisted horn. She could not believe that unicorns were real after she had believed all her life that unicorns did not exist. It was a lucid dream, where she thought the dream was reality. She ventured close to look where the horn was attached to the head. She looked at it in great detail to make sure that it wasn't a horse with a glued on horn. It was real. She touched the fur softly. It was real. Unicorns existed. She was ecstatic.

The unicorn started running through the winter landscape up the moment. She ran with the unicorn stretching her arms out. She felt innocent and happy like she had been as a little girl. She knew that beyond the mountain forest was a restaurant near the peak of the mountain that would serve a hearty, nourishing meal. She ran excitedly looking at the trees and how the snow rested on every horizontal surface. Unicorns were real!

There was a head on the ground! The brown faced head was eating the snow. There were more male heads eating snow. She was surrounded by man eating the snow. The joy of the dream vanished. "Stop it! Stop it!" She realized that it was Muhammad. Muhammad was eating away the innocence and purity of her dream. She struggled, tormented, and stricken like a caged animal. Yet, the Muhammads kept eating the pure, white snow.

With shock, she woke up. Her body was still frozen from the dream. It was startling to be thrashing in the dream only to wake up realizing that her body didn't want to move. With the entire power of her intellect, she pulled her arms. They finally moved. She felt exhausted and terrified. Also, she deeply longed to re-discover that place of innocence in the mountains.

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For days, she tried not to masturbate. Trying to fall asleep was a torment. Every stick-like teased her to take it and put it in her pussy. Her desire for masculinity was so strong that she was even smelling Abam's sweaty shoes. It smelled like man. She constantly thought about man.

She thought about the bus driver back home, that was chubby and barely moved. She fantasized about coming to the bus stop. Then, she'd unzip his pants. She'd straddle him. And she'd thrust her body on his dick, while he was turning that big ol' steering while driving through town. And she'd be fucking him, while they passed through all the familiar places. She'd stare into all the shocked and judgmental faces of middle aged women boarding the train. She was showing them how to have a good time, while the bus driver waved them absently to swipe their bus cards, because he was busy fucking her tight twat and driving a city bus.

She had to pull herself back into the reality. She was back on that mattress in the corner. Abam had gone to sleep half hour ago. It was back the same time, when she used to masturbate. Maybe, she should flick her bean just one last time before an eternity of being a Muslim. She hadn't fully converted to being a Muslim, had she? Only one last time to say good bye.

Her hand was quicker than her mind finding that slit of hers. The whole palm was flat over the mound. Her middle finger fingered for familiar places. Oh, the wonderful memory of how every inch on her outside felt so differently and unique. Her breathing quickened and deepened to a pressed hissing. Her lips pressed together as the pace of her finger pads quickened rubbing back and force.

Then, she heard the panting outside of her room. Abam had been watching her. Apparently, he had been silently beating his meat. However, nearing the high point, his breathing had become out of control and audible. The silent strokes had turned into spanking loud beating. She could hear the flubbing hands beating against his pubic bone. The sound was unmistakable.

High from her own arousal, she fearlessly got up and opened the door fully. Abam was on his knees with his pants pulled down. He beat his meat furiously with one hand and steadying himself with the other against the wall. He was so far gone that he didn't even stop, when Mandy was fully standing in the doorway looking at him. "Fuck me," she whimpered. Then, she pulled the old man with the salt-and-pepper beard on top of her. His skin was brown. His mind was dumb and jealous. Like a servant, he let her pull his penis inside of her. They lay in the hallway with their night clothes only pulled down or to the side. He was furiously humping her not saying a single word. She begged him "fuck me good" over and over.

Then, she stopped him for a moment to pull his penis into her ass. "Ah, it's nice and wet from my pussy." Then, she pulled away onto her knees and gave him a blow job. With her muffled voice from the dick in her mouth, she mumbled "fuck me in all three holes. And I love the taste of my ass." Finally, she couldn't take her cunt being abandoned and popped his penis back in there. She kept alternating between her ass -- the guilty, intense feeling of filling her ass with a dick -- and the pussy -- the amazingly, orgasmic feeling of rubbing inside of her, outside of her, and on her clit.

He came after two intense minutes. There was silence. Senses returned. There was a terrifying tension that built, while his semen slowly ran out of her. He picked up the cell phone. He called the police. He reported her adultery. The police dragged her into the street in her panties. A judge was summoned in the middle of the night. Without a jury, with a pen stroke, Abam was sentenced to pray to Allah for forgiveness. Sandy was sentenced to five years in prison and daily lashing for committing adultery.

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"You are the American Satan that everyone is talking about," said the prison guard through the bars. He was wearing khaki pants and a khaki collar shirt. There was a belt around his hip that carried a big stick. He had a red beret hat to mark him as a soldier. He looked at her sternly, yet safely away from Mandy outside of her prison cell. He pushed the rice and water with his black boot into her cell.

The cell around her was a dirty concrete bunker with no privacy. The entire front was covered with open prison bars. A bucket in the corner let eliminate. There was no bed, only the dirty and cold concrete floor. Her face was dirty. Her hair was tangled. She squatted eating the plain rice. Any food felt delicious to her growling stomach.

After dinner, she'd recline on her back and masturbate as usual. She was already in prison. How much worse could it get. To her surprise, the prison guards would always look away in terror. That's why they called her the American Satan, the temptress. The guards considered it a punishment to guard her cell block. It was so silly that the soldiers with the big sticks would get terrified by her pussy.

The guard tonight was different. He kept stealing glances at her body. She'd smile every time she caught his glimpse. He'd hit his head and look away again. Yet, it only took ten seconds and he'd be stealing another glimpse at Mandy lying on her back with her knees bent and feet pulled up to her butt. She made it a habit of full on flashing them with her pussy, while she folded her inner and outer lips back and force.

Eventually, the guard was staring into her pussy full on. He rubbed his hard on against the prison bars. Apparently, his horniness had taken over his control. Soon enough, they were moaning together. Hearing his grunts reverberated deep inside of her. It drove her on even more. With every of her moans, his eyes twitched. They had this magical connection of guttural grunts driving each other on.

That's when the cell block gate opened. A convoy of prison guard soldiers dragged an Arab woman in. She had freshly received her punishment. Her butt was exposed. The skin was broken in gnarly wounds from the whip lashes. When the guards saw the new guard masturbating, they dropped the broken woman to the ground. Her chin hit the ground hard with a dry sound echoing through the concrete halls.

They guard group pulled the new guard away from her cell front. A wooden stick was raised and stroke down on his thigh. A loud crack signaled his femur breaking. He fell to the floor screaming in agony. Her cell door was opened. Two of them streamed in and hailed a rain of stick beatings onto her. At first she raised her arm. The agony of pain on her forearm was so horrible that she dropped her arm for a moment, only to find out that the blows on her body were even worse. She tried to get up once. A boot pushed her down. The pain overwhelmed her. She realized that death was coming. She gave up taking the beating. She hoped that a white light would soon appear to signal her afterlife.

However, hearing the other woman outside squeal in agony send a shock up her spine. There was something very instinctive about hearing someone of your kin crying in pain. She felt a rage in her heart to kill whatever was hurting that woman that cried with all her being. It wasn't her own will anymore.

With beyond human strength, she got up on her knees. She stood up. The next baton that stroke down on her was grabbed with her hand. The soldier was stunned. She ripped the baton out of his hand. The string that was around his wrist to hold onto it ripped the skin on his wrist. She reached back far with the stick. With all her might she struck in an explosive swing for the head of the soldier. The baton tip caught his chair. With a sound that made everyone cringe and pause for a moment, his jaw shattered. The jaw was ripped out of its joints and flung across the room. A light spray of blood covered her face. Easy drops of blood dripped out of his upper palate and fell down, because there was no longer an upper half to his mouth.

Her eyes turned black. She could no longer see. Berserk mode broke loose inside of her. With all her might, she beat down on the other soldier in her cell. Dazed, he was never able to throw a blow himself or raise an arm to defend himself. Down, down, down, she whacked onto him, not even seeing where she was hitting, simply hitting harder in the direction where her blows felt an obstacle to strike. Only when the prison guard was a lifeless pile on the ground, did she stop.

She could barely see, because she was in such an adrenaline rush. However, the outside prison guards quickly stormed to her. She returned to beating whatever was soft, like blindly beating a piñata at a birthday party. The groans and cries of the men drove her on only more to the point where she stopped to scream out the anger and rage she felt. With her mouth wide open and all the power of her lungs, she screamed for the whole prison to wake up. Even dead people would have been roused by her.

The last alive prison guard, yelled out "the American Satan has risen." Then, he ran away as fast as he could hobble with his multiple compound fractures and massive external bleeding.

Mandy could feel the sticky blood all over her face, hands, and body. Yet, she could not see anything. The adrenaline rush was so intense that not enough blood went to her eyes or head. She stood shaking, feeling the blood run down her body.

The other beaten woman got up from the floor and walked to Mandy. She touched Mandy gently on the shoulder.

"It is you. You have been promised to free us women in the legends. Didn't you have dreams all your life about a freedom struggle? This is your fight. You have to bring all of us women in this prison to safety."

"I can't see!"

"Just like the prophecies! Wait here."

The woman got on her knees to search the dead prison guards for keys. She found the big round key chain. She left to unlock each prison cell. She handed out the keys. Excited shuffling of feet was heard. There was a lot of metal noise as the doors were opened. The whole prison woke up as the women went to other cell blocks. They were lucky that it was the middle of the night with only the night guards on duty.

The light slowly returned to Mandy's eyes. At first, she could only dimly see. Then, it was clear black and white vision. The women all gathered around her looking up to her to lead them out. It took minutes of standing there. The adrenaline was still shaking her legs. The first woman returned and thrust a machine gun into Mandy's hand.

Then they pushed Mandy ahead of them. She felt dazed. She followed the mob of women pushing her. The first station was empty. Only the shoes, baton, and gun of the guard were left. Apparently in his terror about the American Satan, he had discarded anything that would have slowed down his running.

The big entrance gate was protected by six guards who felt safe behind a big bullet proof metal shield.

The megaphone sounded across the prison yard: "Put your gun down, woman!"

Mandy was so dazed that all she could do was scream her guttural scream with all her intensity. The sound rose high above the prison yard and dissipated out into the sleeping city. The women joined her call. Yet, the hundred women could not drown out her scream. Her scream was louder, stronger, and more beautiful than the other hundred women taken together.

Driven on by the mob mind, she opened fire at the metal barrier. The recoil hit her shoulder heart. Her whole body was jerked around by each shot. The shots sprayed wildly all over the prison walls. A prison guard gleaned over the barrier and got a random pot shot in. The magazine quickly emptied pointlessly.

Mandy was stunned for a moment. Then, she threw down the automatic rifle and blindly stormed head on. The intense adrenaline made her not feel any resistance of gravity. Like in the dream, her mind simply wished for her to move forward, and she moved forward. The hundred women stormed with her. She leapt over the five feet high metal barrier. She had never jumped that high before in her life.

The first soldier she saw, she grabbed by the shoulder and head. Her mouth went onto his neck in the middle and bit down hard. The soldier screamed in agony as she ripped a junk of his neck out. The carotid artery next to his throat was severed and gushed blood into her face with every heartbeat. Drenched in blood, she let the lifeless body sink to the ground. The other women had overrun the other soldiers. They were banging loudly against the metal barrier and walls, like ancient warriors drumming up courage and intimidating the foe.

They streamed out into the city. Every light in every house was turned on. None of the residents dared going into the street. Occasional military SUVs showed up and quickly sped away in panic.

"To America," was the first thing Mandy yelled at her followers. "We will be safe in America. We have to fight our way to the harbor and sail out to the open ocean. There are many American warships in the Gulf Stream to keep Iran in check. We only have to fight our way to one of them. That's where we will find safety."

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Hours had passed. Day had turned into night and again into day. Their fishing boat was softly raising and lowering on the waves in the calm sea. The diesel had run out shortly after the shoreline had disappeared. The drinkable water had run out around sunrise. The headache and dizziness had set in. The women that were seasick had already been dehydrated from the vomiting.

Mandy was holding a long pointy fish cleaning knife. Hastening the eventual death might have been a good idea. All the adrenaline had worn off. They were bopping around in the ocean with only water everywhere. Nobody had a clue about navigation. They were going to slowly die here. The ship would turn into a ghost ship drifting around the world with their corpses.

The blood was disgusting and sticky on her body. She felt guilty about killing people. There was still a piece of human flesh stuck in between her teeth that she could not get out. All she had wanted was a job and help her mom pay the mortgage.

Terrified, some of the women had started praying. Tension had risen between women wanting Western style freedoms and others fretting the doom of Allah. With every moment longer lost and rising headache, the individual asked herself "what is the reason that I am suffering right now?" A lot of them found answers in religion. She herself had to think about the joy that Sven had in his eyes when he talked about the peace that Islam brought to his family. Maybe, he was right. Maybe, she was a monster for not being able to control her sexual urges.

A woman screamed "America!" In the distance was a boat. The boat grew into a big ship. It grew into a massive aircraft carrier with perhaps ten thousand people on board, a respectable small city. Then, the support ships around it, powerful warships became visible to the naked eye. It took an hour for the fleet to reach the fishing boat.

The dingy fishing boat bobbed beneath the aircraft carrier in the water. The women looked up the man stories tall aircraft carrier. Rigid-inflatable boats (RIBs) sped around them in circles. The American soldiers had big helmets. They had bulky bullet proof vests and many pouches. Their assault rifles looked black and powerful.

Once they were all in position, a cage was lowered from the platform of the carrier high above. Mandy opened the gate, entered it with a few women. The lift ride up was dramatic. The fishing boat grew so small beneath them. They were able to see over the railing of the support vessels. There were so many powerful guns, rockets, helicopters, antennas, and heavily packed soldiers in camouflage gear everywhere. Helicopters circled overhead with the side doors open. The gunner's feet were standing outside the helicopter. Powerful machine guns were aimed at them.

The lift cage reached the carrier platform. Amazing just like in the movies, a wide expense of flat expanded. There were many short single pilot jets. A garrison of white gloved marines stood in their parade uniform with their hands at attention to welcome the women. The women stumbled onto the squeaky clean platform. Their clothes were ragged. Their mouths were parched dry. Their eyes were wide open taking in the amazing display.

Mandy stepped to the side as soldiers directed the women inside of a doorway presumably where water, food, blankets, and showers awaited them. It was surreal to have become a freedom fighter for oppressed women. It felt like a dream. Yet, she knew that it wasn't.

Three stories higher was a balcony with a highly decorated man, probably the captain. Next to him stood a man in a wide, white Arab dress with a white head covering and big black sun glasses. He looked like a fatty. The fatty was pointing at her. The captain pointed at her as well. Two soldiers grabbed the upper arms of Mandy strongly.