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Hijab Hunter: Abduction!

I just can not resist the "mature" Somali women I see walking Vanier, Ontario, with her long skirts
and hijabs. My name is Alexander "Ali" Montrose and I am a young man with a steamy story to share
with you. I am twenty-six years, and sexual adventurism has always been the name of my game. I
was born in Toronto, Ontario, on a Jamaican father and a white mother. My parents, Tyson and
Elisabeth Shay Montrose-Montrose still live there, along with my sister Hannah and my younger
brother Joseph. I came to the capital city of Ottawa is looking for adventure. I wanted to explore life
outside of metropolitan Toronto, and man, I'm a handful.
When I studied for my MBA or practice at Carleton University, I was exploring around Ottawa and
New chase the cat. I developed a taste for Somali cat these days. Simply put, I can not get enough.
The funny thing is that I did not particularly like Muslims. I think there are too many of them in
Canada and their refusal to adapt to Western society is making all types of immigrants look bad. I
am one of the few visible minorities in Canada who support the Quebec Charter of secularism, which
would prohibit the hijab and the burqa from public life.
Yeah, I was like Muslims and did not mind letting people know it. Yet, in spite of myself, I found that
fantasizing about Muslim women sexually. So I learned to play nice with them to lure them to my
bed. I became addicted to them. Muslim kitty rocks, dude! I think that's what led me to become
fixated with Sara Ibrahim, the Somali thirty-something lady living on Donnelly Street near a large
grocery store in the east end of Vanier. He lives in a nice apartment overlooking the park. How do I
know? I swear it was an accident. I was shooting hoops in the park and saw her. The moment I saw
that beautiful ass, I knew that I had it.
Sara Ibrahim was quite different from other Somali ladies I knew, which means that it is completely
open-minded. I'd been keeping an eye on the lady for a while waiting for the right time to make my
move. I swear I wanted to break it. I've banged three Somali young, and those that appeal to me are
always dressed conservatively those who wear the hijab. Nothing turns me as a hijab, worn by
women, people. I'll swear, who you want me to swear. Anyhow, it was said that a man's weakness is
a woman. One night, while the Sara Ibrahim around, I slipped and fell. I hit my head against
something, and fainted.
When I woke up, I was in a dark basement somewhere, completely naked, with hands and feet tied.
Shit, I caught a psychopath! Just like in the movies. That was my first thought. Then the light came
on in the basement, and I found myself looking at a familiar face. Sara Ibrahim. Sexy MILF Somali, I
was fascinated. In addition, when I saw her in the basement, I went from terrified fascination. For a
woman holding a butcher knife in his hand. Why are you following me? she asked, in a beautiful,
almost melodic voice provided all the more frightening because of its tranquility.
I do not know what you're talking about, I said weakly. Even to my ears my voice sounded
unconvincing. You're lying, Sara Ibrahim said he spat on the ground for emphasis. With anger in his
eyes, tall and beautiful Somali woman approached me with a knife. She pointed blade on my crotch.
Tell me why you follow me, or I will cut your dick Sara said angrily. At this point, I went from scared
to fully scared to death. I did not chase you just think you're beautiful, I blurted out, and before I
knew it, I had tears in my eyes. Sarah looked at me, and surprisingly enough, she smiled. Do you
Muslim women, huh? she asked, smiling wickedly. I nodded. Muslim women wearing the hijab
fascinated me, and I do not know why, I said.
I might have some use for you, Sara Ibrahim said, stroking his chin. Please let me go, I pleaded. One
Otherwise, he said, glaring at me angrily. Yes ma'am, I swallowed. From now on you are my slave,
said Sara Ibrahim. I nodded. I looked at this high, curves and absolutely stunning Somali woman,
who just threatened to cut my dick off. And surprisingly, I worked hard. Sara's eyes widened when
he saw my dick hard. You've got to be kidding me, she said, laughing in disbelief. I adore Somali
women, and I can not help it, I said, and shrugged. Sarah looked at me. You would die for the taste
of meat Somali women, she said. It was not a question. Yes ma'am, I said quietly, looking at her.
Sarah grabbed my cock with her left hand and pressed the knife against my belly button. Do not try
anything, she warned. It was a joke? I would not do anything that would upset a woman holding the
blade so close to my manhood. This is the place where the dog courage fails. I did not want to sing
soprano for the rest of their days. So you'd better believe I'd do anything he asked Mrs.
You have a beautiful cock, Sara Ibrahim said, stroking my still hard Johnson. I silently nodded. My
eyes widened in shock as Somali sexy MILF got on her knees and started sucking my penis. View of
a beautiful woman with a dick in his mouth excited me like you would not believe. My knees
weakened and I soon came. Surprisingly, Sara did not seem to mind. She sucked every last drop of
my seed. You can taste wonderful, Sarah said with a smile, wiping his mouth with the back of his
hand. Thank you madam, I would say, almost without breath. I'll have lots of fun with you, she said
mischievously. Looking to Sara Ibrahim eyes, I saw the promise of hell, just as the sweet agony.
Thank you, ma'am, I said with a smile. Sara suddenly pressed the blade against my ball sack. Damn,
I'm panicking. If I failed, I destroy you, Sara promised. No worries ma'am, I said rather quickly. A
good slave, Sarah laughed.
Thus began my captivity in the hands of Sara Ibrahim, a Muslim woman who kidnapped me and
turned me into your slave. All in all, she treated me decently. I was allowed to take a shower, and
she fed me and let me use the bathroom when I needed to. In return, I expected to do certain things
for her. I read your posts on Facebook and your hatred of Muslims is outrageous, said Sara Ibrahim.
I'm sorry, I'm embarrassed. I will teach you about your religion, even if it kills you, she said, staring
at me menacingly. Yes ma'am, I nodded. Sara read the Qur'an to me and told me about how the
archangel Gabriel appeared to Muhammad in the desert, and told him about God and His message to
mankind. She told me about the pillars of Islam, and the real lives of modern Muslims. Stereotypes
say that Muslim women are submissive, Sara Ibrahim spat. He looked at me and asked me if I looked
submissive to me. No, ma'am, I confessed.
Beautiful, sadistic Muslim woman known as Sara Ibrahim taught me about Islam, and I learned
something about her. Our conversation lasted for several hours each day. In his dark basement, I
could not tell day from night. I lost track of time. All that mattered to me was what taught me a joy
and suffering visited upon me. Sometimes I fellate mouth for no apparent reason, and suck my dick,
while finger my ass hole. At first I protested because I thought only pansies that something in their
butts, but I quite like it when a Muslim woman sexy playing with my ass. Sara Ibrahim picked up on
it, and soon began using toys to me. The first time you used a strap-on dildo on me, I fought and
begged her not to do it. Still, it felt so good and I liked it very much. Now I can not get enough. You
love the presentation of strong Muslim women like me, my sweet infidels breeding, Sarah teased me.
Yes, I said, admitting the truth.
Our meeting was a mixture of spiritual and sexual. If I mind some important passages from the holy
book, Sara Ibrahim would reward me by giving me lick her pussy and she suck my dick until I came
like ten or something. As you can imagine, I was motivated to learn about what is known as the best
religion in the world. I was in my basement for a long time and we learned a lot about myself. Sara
Ibrahim told me that she was divorced. Her ex-husband Aden left her when he found that he could
not bear offspring.
A barren woman is useless man born and raised in Islam, Sara Ibrahim said, a sad look upon his
face. You're strong and you're so pretty useless, I said, looking at her. You only say that because you
want to go free, said Sara. No, I'm serious, I said. I looked into her eyes and saw a vulnerable woman
hiding under a cold and angry super-bitch she became. And I kissed her. After a brief hesitation,
Sara kissed me and hugged me. When we stopped for air, I looked into her eyes and she looked into
mine. She was about to say something when the words "Police freezing" interrupted us. I looked at
Sarah, to see men in police uniforms soaring into the basement.
Sarah looked at them and then at me. Her beautiful golden brown eyes were full of sadness. I'm
sorry, she said. Gently kissed me on the lips, ignored police orders to drop the blade. Turning, she
headed toward them. No, I screamed. I tried in their bonds, but to no avail. I watched helplessly as
Sara Ibrahim went down in a haze of bullets. Policewoman freed me from my bonds, and pushed my
way around it. I hurried to the side of Sara Ibrahim. I'm sorry, she said, gently touched my face.
Then she closed her eyes. Please do not die, I cried. Policemen me away.
News hit the airways Canada and the world, and people were amazed at the story. The devout
Muslim kidnapping young Christian college students, and it grieved him in his basement months
before the police finally discovered and put an end to her reign of terror. Media designer Sara
Ibrahim and radical Islamist, a terrorist, a monster. I myself knew better. My parents told me that I
had Stockholm syndrome. I do not agree with their evaluation and the media. Sara was worried, but
she was not a monster. I went to visit my family in Montreal, Quebec. I wanted to know the answers
to some questions I had. When I went to Ibrahim households in Laval, Sara's last address before
moving to Ottawa, a surprise awaited me. When I knocked on the door, the person who opened it
was a dead ringer for Sara. It was her twin sister Yasmina Ibrahim. I'm sorry for what you did to my
sister, she said, to see me. Let's talk, I said, my heart thundering in my chest.
After a brief hesitation Yasmina Ibrahim welcomed me into the house. I saw brat there, one of only
five winters old, and Yasmina introduced me to his son, Amir. Sarah told me that she is barren, I
said. Yasmina nodded and told me how the pelvic area and uterus Sara is received during a horse
riding accident, a devastating prognosis doctors appeared to her and her family after damage. Since
then he had never been the same, Yasmina said, his eyes full of tears. I looked at her. The similarity
between Sarah and Yasmina was unreal. I loved my sister, I said. Even after all she did to you?
Yasmina asked incredulously. I nodded. With her face in her hands and kissed her. Yasmina gently
pushed me and told me that we should not cross these lines. Before Sara died, I took Shahadah in
front of her and my Muslim name is Ali, I said Yasmina proudly. You really convert, Yasmina said, the
shock in his voice. I nodded. Allah erratic, but I think he wants you and me together, I said. Yasmina
looked at me and smiled. Then he kissed me.