The Violation Of Fatima’s Throat

Nadia is a happy, confident graduate student in the U.S. preparing to write her thesis on feminism in her home country of Iraq. The last thing she exp

Nadia turned away and closed her eyes when she heard the deep, gutteral burp coming from somewhere within Fatima. A second later, she heard the retching and then the splash of puke on the cold tiled floor.
“Nadia, don’t fucking look away. You’re holding the camera wonky for the fucking highlight here.”
Nadia turned back and looked over the camera she was holding to where Steve was standing over Fatima. Puke and thick globes of spit were dropping from the girl’s chin onto her bare, brown tits as she gasped for air. Her eyes were red and her cheeks glistened with tears. Steve was holding his thick, long, wet cock only inches from her open mouth.
“Nadia, fucking concentrate,” Steve said.
“I’m sorry, it’s just this is not right. This is…”
“Shut the fuck up, cunt. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

He was right. Nadia had agreed to this fucked up scheme in Steve’s office only the day before. Nadia had been keen to get her professor’s opinion on her latest research paper about the women’s movement in her home, Iraq. She remembered being frustrated by how aloof Steve had been during the meeting. She had worked for weeks on the paper and was keen to get his esteemed opinion on the matter. She had been ready to ask him if he was at all interested in what she was saying when he cut her off:
“Nadia, I need your help.”
When she didn’t respond, Steve continued:
“You’re one of my best graduate students. I’ve seen how well you lead some of the seminars for the undergrads. I need you to recruit one or two of the undergrads for a special task.”
Nadia noticed Steve trying to hide a smirk.
“What kind of task?”
Steve looked at her for a few moments but didn’t say anything. Then:
“I’m a man. I have certain… needs.”
Nadia froze. She had read all about sexual misconduct in the news. She never imagined she would be confronted with it.
She opened her mouth to respond, but was lost for words.
Steve smiled.
“I might as well be honest, Nadia. And I feel fine doing that. Because I know you will help me and won’t tell anyone who doesn’t need to know about this.”
After a couple of seconds, Nadia regained her composure.
“I should tell the university about this. You’ll be fired!”
“You won’t. I have an email here ready to accuse you of plagerism and recommending your immediate dismissal from this university. You’ll lose your visa and be deported back to Iraq. No one will believe you if you run to them with an accusation against me only moments after I charged you with wrongdoing.”
Nadia tried to think of a response. Steve had utterly cornered her. This was fucking blackmail. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run from him. Instead, she looked at him and said, squirming inside:
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to find one of the freshman, preferably one who is still 18 rather than 19 and has, let’s say, a timid and naive disposition. Invite her for dinner at my place tomorrow evening. Tell them they’ve been selected for a special research project and will be attending the dinner with you and other graduate students.”
“Will there be other graduate students there?”
“No, of course not. Only you and she will be there.”
Nadia felt her stomach churn. Steve noticed.
“Don’t panic. I’m interested in the girl, not you.”
“Then why do I need to be there?”
“You have a task.”
“Which is?”
Steve held up his hand. He was holding a video camera.
“You’ll be filming the same evening’s proceedings.”
Nadia didn’t want to know more, but she had to know.
“What will I be filming?”
Steve smiled. Something twinkled in his eyes. He put down the camera and turned the laptop on his desk toward Nadia.
“Play this video.”
Nadia hesitated and then clicked the play icon. A girl who looked about 18 or 19 in a skimpy outfit was sitting on a black couch. She was smiling uneasily at the camera. A man entered the frame, grabbed the girl’s head, spat on her and then rammed his cock down her throat as her arms flailed behind her. She immediately started puking and crying. Nadia paused the video.
“Are you sick?”
Steve laughed.
“Yes, I am.”
“I won’t do it.”
“Yes, you will. I know you don’t want to go back to that shit hole of a country you call home, Nadia.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Yes, yes I am. And you’re going to help me be a monster.”

Hours after the he meeting, Nadia sat in a seminar room thinking about what Steve had asked her to do. She abhorred the idea. But she knew he was also right. She was fucked if she lost her visa and had to return to that “shit hole of a country.”
Looking around the room of about 15 undergraduate students, she saw about half of them were girls. She glanced at each on in turn before she settled on one sitting near the side of the room.
It was Fatima.
Nadia knew her a bit. 18 years old. Syrian. Came to the U.S. as a refugee at age 15. A quiet, intelligent girl with grand ideas about progress who lacked confidence and didn’t seem to have many friends. She was petite and had long jet-black hair that framed her young, tanned face.
Nadia thought about whether the girl had ever had sex.
When the seminar ended, Nadia walked over to Fatima and asked her to stay behind.
“Are you busy tomorrow evening?” she said in Arabic.
Fatima giggled uneasily.
“No. I’m never busy in the evenings.”
“Professor Stern is organizing a dinner for his graduate students. He’d like you to come along. He has a project about the development of feminism I’m Syria that he’d like to discuss with you.”
Fatima’s eyes widened.
“Oh, really? Me? I’m flattered. But why me? I’m not a top student. I just…”
“I recommended you.”
“Oh wow. Well, thank you so much. I would love to come. I’m in awe of the professor. I didn’t even know he was aware of me.”
Nadia forced a smile.
“Good, see you tomorrow then.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait, what should I wear?”
Nadia looked back at Fatima.
“A nice black dress. Make up. I’m sure you’ll manage.”

The following evening, Nadia walked to Steve’s house with Fatima. When they arrived, Steve opened the door and hugged both of them and gave Nadia a knowing smile. His eyes lingered on Fatima’s body, which had been pressed into a tight and relatively short black dress.
“You look ravishing,” he said.
Fatima looked embarrassed and tipped her head forward.
“Thank you professor. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. But Nadia recommended it.”
Steve looked at Nadia. He smiled.
“Did she now? Well, she made a good recommendation.”
He then led them to a table in the kitchen area. Nadia immediately saw the video camera. The table wasn’t set.
Fatima giggled.
“I thought there would be more graduate students here tonight.”
Steve turned and leaned against the table.
“Ah yes. That won’t be the case. I actually wanted to discuss something with you, Fatima.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. Now, I’ll be very honest, Fatima. I think you’re a very pretty girl. Some people these days might say it’s inappropriate for someone my age and in my position to say this to a girl like you, but it’s what I think.”
Fatima looked at Nadia confused. Nadia remained silent.
“I don’t know what to say. That is very kind of you but…”
“Fatima, I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve invited you here to fuck you.”
Fatima raised her eyebrows. Her mouth was open but she didn’t say anything.
“No, I can’t. We can’t. Professor. I’m only 18. This is. This is inappropriate. I’ve never even had sex.”
She looked at Nadia.
“And you? What are you here for?”
Nadia looked to the floor. She had never felt so much shame.
“Nadia is here to film us.”
“What? No. This is…”
“Fatima. Calm down,” Steve said.
Steve walked over to her and brushed his hand through her thick, black hair. She didn’t look him in the eye.
“Fatima, can’t you see how beautiful you are? I only want to have you for your beauty.”
“Professor, I…”
“What Fatima? Are you not attracted to me?”
Fatima breathed heavily.
“No. I mean, yes. You’re a nice man. But I…”
“Shhhhhh, you’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. Be a good girl now.”
Steve held Fatima in his arms and nodded in the direction of the camera. Nadia understood the gesture and picked up the camera and started recording.
Steve cupped Fatima’s face in his hands.
“Will you be a good girl for me now?”
Fatima nodded.
“Good slut. Now get on your knees.”

Steve put his thick, pale hands on Fatima’s exposed, brown shoulders and pressed her down.
Steve gestured at Nadia to come closer.
“Make sure the camera sees everything,” he said as he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his hard, throbbing cock.
Fatima gasped. She looked up at Steve. Fear was in her eyes.
“Kiss it,” said Steve.
Fatima inched her lips to his cock and pressed them gently against the tip. Nadia couldn’t help but notice how thick the veins on Steve’s cock were as she tried to focus on filming Fatima.
“Good slut. Now. Open wide.”
Steve ran his hands through Fatima’s hair and then grabbed the thick strands into fists at the back of her hair. Nadia could smell a mixture of Fatima’s cheap hair conditioner and perfume.
Fatima opened her mouth a little. Steve pressed his cock between her lips and into her small mouth. Nadia imagined what he was feeling as his cock slid over those warm, young lips and into the wet, sticky cavern of her mouth. How did her delicate tongue feel underneath his cock?
Steve’s cock was only two inches in when Fatima let out a barely audible gag and pushed instinctively with her hands against Steve’s theigh’s.
“Shhhhhh. No need to panic, Fatima. My lovely slut. This is what I want. I want to hear you gag on my cock like a good girl.”
Steve pressed against Fatima’s head to move his cock further into her mouth. Fatima began to moan very quietly as she felt the cock press against the back of her throat. She gagged again, much more loudly and globs of spit began to form on her lower lip. Fatima’s eyes were wide and looking at Nadia. Tears were welling up inside.
“Almost there, my little Syrian slut.”
Steve pressed again and his cock lurched in further into Fatima’s resisting throat. She was gagging hard and frothy spit was now flowing out of her mouth and all over Steve’s cock and balls. Nadia watched a thick strand of goo trail down onto Fatima’s barely visible cleavage and down into her dress.
“Make sure to get this next part, Nadia,” said Steve.
Nadia whinced at what he meant but kept the camera on Fatima, who was now panicking. Tears mixed with her mascara were running down her cheeks and her arms were flailing against Steve’s theighs.
Steve counted to three and then used his entire strength to ram his entire cock balls deep into Fatima’s throat. Nadia heard what must of been Fatima’s attempt at a scream, but which was muffled by the cock in her aesophagus.
Fatima, her face buried into Steve’s crotch, shuddered violently as her body gave out a deep gutteral burp. Puke spewed in all directions from where Fatima’s face was buried in Steve’s crotch. The noise it made on the floor reminded Nadia of her mother emptying a bucket onto her flowers on Saturday mornings when she was a child.
Nadia lurched back when some chunks sprayed onto her hand and hair.
Steve let go of Fatima, who snapped her head back and fell to the floor coughing.
“Film her like this. Film her as I break her down, Nadia.”
Nadia aimed the camera at Fatima, who was still gasping for air.
“There is more of that whore juice in you, Fatima. We need to get it out. We need to cleanse you.”
“No more. I don’t want this. Please. You almost killed me. This is wrong,” she said sputtering.
“Fucking dumb Syrian cunt.”
Steve grabbed her head again and rammed his puke covered cock into Fatima’s mouth. The girl was using all her strength to fight back. Tears were streaming down her miserable face.
“When you resist me, you only make it better, cunt.”

Fatima puked several more times over the half an hour that Steve ravaged her throat. When he finally grunted and sprayed his cum on Fatima’s ruined forehead, Nadia kneeled in the chunky mess by Fatima’s knees and held the camera only inches from the girl’s dripping chin.
As she filmed Fatima sobbing, Nadia thought about her culpability. She was a feminist and yet she had allowed this to happen. She had selected poor Fatima for a task that the girl would never recover from. She was guilty and nothing would ever change that.
But what was she guilty of?
What was so wrong about what had happened? There was some fucked up part of Nadia that whispered that something ever so gratifying had just happened. If she saw past what she was supposed to think — that this was a “crime” and that what Steve enjoyed doing to women was “disgusting” — she realized there was a different view: that this was pleasurable. That this was actually, in some twisted way, what Fatima deserved and what she wanted. She wanted to see someone like her overpowered. She wanted to see someone like her get humiliated. She wanted to see someone like her be broken into a broken spit and puked drenched mess. She wanted to find other girls for Steve and film them just like she had filmed Fatima.
As she thought this, Nadia stood up, turned around and pulled down her skirt and then her underwear to her knees. Steve, who was sitting at the kitchen bar, watched her as he sipped some water. Looking at him, Nadia reached around and grabbed the back of Fatima’s hair and pulled her slime-covered face into her bare ass. The girl let out a whimper.
The slime felt cool as it touched her ass cheeks and the point of Fatima’s nose felt pleasant as it burrowed it’s way between them.
Nadia groaned and began to press harder and pull up and down on Fatima’s hair to rub her face deep into her ass crack.
“Clean me out, you cunt,” said Nadia.
Nadia felt the edge of the girl’s tongue brush against her asshole.
“All the way in. Be a good girl.”
Nadia pressed harder and looked at Steve. He was stroking his cock and smiling at her.
“I knew you would come around to this, Nadia.”
He walked over to her and gently held her head in both hands.
With her free hand, Nadia reached down and started stroking him.
“What should we do with her once she’s cleaned you out?” he said.
“Anything you want to, Sir. Just please let me film it.”

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