Mahmoud Hamas and the Necronomicon a.K.a. Arab Style Vengeance

by sonyaesperanto

Copyright© 2010 by sonyaesperanto

Erotica Sex Story: A Palestinian youth living in Beirut discovers a way to get revenge on the Israelis, after having stumbled upon the all-powerful book called the Necronomicon inside his uncle´s basement. The body modification code efers to castration.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mind Control   Magic   Rough   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Oriental Male   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Pregnancy   Body Modification   Violence   .

This story is dedicated to HP Lovecraft, father of American Horror and he gave the world "Weird Science". I would also like to give many special thanks to Mike S, who has convinced me to come out of retirement and start writing online erotica again.

Mahmoud Hamas was sat down in a café, drinking Arabic tea, in Beirut. Mahmoud Hamas was not originally from Lebanon. He was from Palestine. He left the country when he was 12 years old because the Israeli soldiers killed all his friends and he often suffered racial harassment at the hands of the Israeli police and policewomen at that.

Mahmoud Hamas missed his home. His father, who had no future anymore there, took him to Lebanon. The main reason was that his mother was killed by an Israeli tank. Back in 2006, Israeli planes flew over to Lebanon and dropped bombs, killing many civilians.

I really hate them, he bitterly thought.

He hated them in whatever name he remembered them in. Israelis. Jews. Zionists.

He was 17 now. But even here in Beirut, the Lebanese also disliked the Palestinians calling them "dirty gypsies" or other cursed names.

This is not my home. My home was taken away from me by from foreign invaders from Europe, he thought.

As he sipped his tea, not wanting to tell himself that he had no future, he was thinking what was his next plan for today.

His own father left him in 2006 and so he stayed with his uncle, who had a business in Lebanon.

Mahmoud Hamas went back home. It was already late afternoon and he had no other plan. He was short on cash to go out with friends.

When he went back home he was cleaning the crawl space, for the first time, when he spotted a small brown cover under the ancient dust. It was no more than a quarter inch thick, but was not noticeably different from some of the unevenly laid boards. He only found it when he placed his hand on the flooring to brace himself, only to slide six or seven inches. It was very dusty too. he blew over the dust, which in turn caused him to cough a bit.

The brown little binder reminded him of the little accounting notepads he'd seen at the office supply store. It was 9 inches wide and 11 inches tall.

What shocked him the most was the title on the front cover.

"I don't believe this. This is the book the imams were talking about," Mahmoud was shocked. Never in a thousand years would be ever believed that he would come across this book and never in a thousand years that of all places, it would be his uncle's place.

He heard the stories but now knew it existed.

"The Necronomicon. Written by the mad Arab Abdul Alhazred," he read out.

The Necronomicon has the power to grant its reader anything he desires, he remembered his imam telling him and his friends.

What else did he remember.

You must stay away from this book. It will promise you many things. It will even take you away to the world of Shaitan and the Djinns, his imam also said.

"What do I care. He makes more money than me and my life is shit," Mahmoud becoming influenced by the book. He knew that it was taking an invisible hold on him. He didn't care. Not anymore.

He then remembered what the imam also said about this book.

" ... it can give you unimaginable power to rule the world..."

Later in the Night

Mahmoud's uncle was sound asleep. Mahmoud was inside his bedroom. He started flipping through the book. He looked at the book for a minute and went to the living room. Dropping into his favorite chair, he opened the book to see what was in it. He had to turn on the reading lamp to make out the writing.

Good it is in Arabic, Mahmoud thought.

He then turned the page of the book and started in a dark somber voice, "I call upon thee Cthulhu, Lord of the Worlds Beyond Time. I invoke thee. I acknowledge no other god but you. You are the God of gods."

All of a sudden, there was a windy sound everywhere. It felt windy all around Mahmoud. Before he could blink, his entire scenery changed. He found himself no longer sitting down on his chair but standing up with the opened up pages of the Necronomicon. He saw the galaxy all around him and when he looked down, he saw himself standing on a circular energy force.

He saw stars, seeing comets and meteors flying all around him and the only sound he heard was that of a large tidal wave.

"I must be in the middle of the universe," Mahmoud telling himself. He knew enough about science that the Earth was a planet in the middle of a solar system, which in turn is within outer space.

Twenty feet from where he was he saw a figure appearing out of nowhere. He gasped in horror. It was a humanoid giant; greenish, stood at 10 feet tall, its head had octopus-like tentacles (like that evil pirate in Pirates of the Caribbean 2 Dead Man's Chest) and its eyes were red.

"I am Cthulhu. I am the one who you evoked. You have read passages from the Necronomicon and now you are in my reality. It has been a long time since anyone from your world tried contacting me. I am here," Cthulhu spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Yes. Yes. I came to seek you. I want power. I want to control things," Mahmoud becoming greedy.

"I can give you all that, like I have given your predecessor Abdul Alhazred. I also take it that you are from his people, amongst the greater population of humans," Cthulhu spoke in his hoarse voice.

"Yes. Like him, I too am an Arab. I want to avenge my people. I want to defeat and humiliate my enemies in so many ways that they would not dare to fight me but instead drop down on their knees and call me Sahib," Mahmoud getting excited and passionate.

"And you shall defeat them. And you shall be powerful. Like a god. You shall power over your puny world," Cthulhu spoke.

"Yes. Yes. I want it all. I want it all," Mahmoud starting to sound like that hunchback from that movie 300.

"All you have to do is acknowledge me as you ruler and as your God. That you shall also serve my whims on your world," Cthulhu spoke in his hoarse voice.

Mahmoud wanted to but he wasn't sure if it would all come true.

"I beg you great Cthulhu. Before I acknowledge you as my God and Ruler, could you demonstrate to me what your powers are capable of," Mahmoud wanting to know what he was going to be in for.

"Very well. I also know the hearts and minds of men Mahmoud. I shall demonstrate to you what would happen once I give you power on your world," Cthulhu spoke in his hoarse voice.

He knows my name is Mahmoud, Mahmoud thought.

One moment Mahmoud was talking to Cthulhu in outer space and the next moment...

He saw himself in Israel. He found himself down on a throne, dressed in rich clothing. In front of him were Israeli men, women and children, dressed in ancient Egyptian slave clothes. They saw him and they all went down and prostrated themselves before him

Mahmoud was getting excited.

The Israelis, my mortal enemies my mortal abusers, are bowing down before me, Mahmoud thought.

This was all outside. On both his sides were torches burning. He also noticed that there were 2 sexily-clad Israeli women fanning him on both sides with giant feathers.

I have slave girls, he thought (with excitement).

He realized something. The two women fanning him looked like two Israeli police women who had humiliated him before on the streets. They asked for his ID and when he couldn't show it, they beat him up, gave him a hard time and made him follow them to a police van where he was in jail, being interrogated by male and female police officers, making fun of his Arab race.

I like this ... a lot, he thought.

The scenario changed again. He found himself in what looked like a throne room and he was once more sat down on a throne. Right before his very eyes, he saw all his friends taking turns to rape an Israeli woman. She was tied up in a spread eagled position on the middle of the floor. She was screaming in agony as his friends were smiling and taking turns to fuck her.

What was strange was that these friends of his only lived in his memory. They were dead. They have been dead a long time but here they were, still looking like 12 and 13, raping a woman who did remind him of a policewoman who hurled abuse at him and them, when they were still alive, about 5 to 6 years ago. He was enjoying all this and his cock was stiffening.

This is paradise alright, Mahmoud thought (with a smile).

The scenario changed again. This time he was in what looked like a harem room. He was lying down on an emperor's size bed and he was surrounded by more than 20 naked women. All of them ranging from having olive skin or pale skin to dark eyes or blue eyes.

"Let us serve you Sahib. All Jewish women are born to serve you," a black haired olive-skinned woman was coming up to him, touching his chest and body.

Some women were on his legs, playing with his cock.

This can't be real. Please let it be real, Mahmoud thought.

His scenario changed again. This time he was sat down on a throne for what looked a Roman Arena. There were naked Israeli women lying down on his feet and 1 standing next to him, serving him 'dates'. He saw Israeli men naked and lying down on human-sized wooden benches. He saw at least 3 to 4 Arab men working on them. He saw them being castrated before his very eyes.

One Arab surgeon from below looked up to him and screamed, "What do you want us to do with these eunuchs sire. You want to keep them or you intend to sell them."

"Sell them. Sell them," Mahmoud getting over-excited, watching the kind of humiliation and torture he had only been dreaming about for years ever since he left Palestine, happening for real.

Castrate their men and fuck their women, he thought.

He opened his mouth as his Jewish slave fed him some dates.

Everything around him swirled and he once more found himself in outer space, and Cthulhu in front of him.

"What you saw can be real. You can watch your enemies fall before you. You can watch them humiliated and degraded. You can have sex with all the women you want. Imagine every Jewish Israeli women giving birth to Arab babies, raised as Arabs," Cthulhu speaking in his hoarse voice.

There was pause between them for one minute until Cthulu said, "What do you say ... future Caliph of the Middle East."

Mahmoud thought for just less than 30 seconds.

"Yes Cthulhu. I acknowledge you as my supreme ruler and god. I shall serve you and carry out your wishes on Earth," Mahmoud signing his life away.

"Done. Now all you have to do is kneel before me," Cthulhu spoke.

Mahmoud dropped down to his knees.


THE NEW WORLD ORDER

The whole Middle East is now under one Caliphate. This one Caliphate is Mahmoud, ruling the whole Middle East. He has a throne room that is out in the open, on top of some steps headed towards an entrance leading to an upper temple. Everything resembled the time period of ancient Rome. No more technology.

Mahmoud was dressed as some Sultan from Baghdad. All his staff were dressed as how his staff would have been dressed during the Golden Age of Islam.

Right in front of him were his Arab subjects. Some Arab men stood by him as advisers and counsellors.

"I want to make a new proposal," Mahmoud telling his counsellors. "All the Israeli civilians are to be striped of their rights. Not their military. The civilians. They are to be given off as slaves throughout my empire. From Egypt to Syria. Distribute them as slaves to our great Arab people," Mahmoud speaking as if he was the Roman Emperor Caligula.

"It shall be done your highness," his advisors and counsellors spoke in unison.

Just the civilians. Not their original government members, armed forces and police force.

"One other thing. Make sure all the males are castrated," Mahmoud insisted.


Later in the evening

He was inside his royal dining hall. He and his "dead" Palestinian friends were sat down, eating very rich food. Arab music was being played. They were supposed to be dead for over 5 years but thanks to Cthulhu, here they were ... eating and drinking with him.

"It is so good to see all of you again," Mahmoud raising his cup of wine to them. arab music was being played in the background. Israeli women (probably from either the military or the police) were dancing around naked to the music. They were also serving the food ... naked.

As they served food and drinks, Mahmoud and his "brothers" were pinching his female Jewish Israeli on their ass cheeks and even pinching their nipples. Every time they were doing so, they would make sexist and derogatory comments about Jewish women being nothing but whores, harlots and sluts.

"Ok who wants a blow job!" Mahmoud cried, knowing that all of them would be putting up their hands. All of them cried with excitement, putting up their hands.

 
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