Perverts 'R' Us

Debt of Honor - Part 3

By Loki925 ( M/g, con )

This story is pure fiction and does not resemble anyone or anything in reality, whatever that is.

Vic was shocked that he had a wet dream and over Sahar no less. Damn! She was just a kid. Why had she turned him on? He decided to take a quick shower before he did his morning exercise. He was bound and determined not to have a pair of love handles.

He showered and quickly dressed. It was 5:45 a.m., plenty of time for him to complete his normal morning regimen and return in time to make Sahar breakfast. Little did he know she already knew his morning routine and was going to make use of it.

Vic dressed and left the house. Sahar got up and dressed. But instead of putting on her hijab, she wore only the cotton underpants Vic had bought for her when they first came to America. She remembered the store very well and the nice female officer who had also accompanied her.

There were many things she liked about America but there were many things that were offensive to her. Some of the skimpy items in the store for females were one of them and the signs with half-dressed women were terrible. Nudity should only be allowed at home.

Sahar went into the kitchen, took a few sheets of paper off the roll and then opened the refrigerator. With the paper in her hand she removed the bacon and tossed it in the trash. Vic told her that this was going to be her home too and she could not tolerate such an offensive product in her home. Observant Jews felt the same way as she would learn.

With that done she returned to her room and put on her hijab. She knelt down toward the East and said her morning prayers. When she was done she thanked Allah for the many blessings he had bestowed on her, and especially for Vic.

She removed her hijab, returned to the kitchen and started to make breakfast for Vic and herself. As she cooked she decided that even though Vic looked hard he was actually very soft underneath his hard shell. Sahar was starting to really like him, even though he was a non-believer. Seducing him would be not only her duty as his concubine, but a joy to her.

Vic was on the last leg of his fifteen mile run. He checked his watch and was pleased that he was a few minutes under the proficiency mark. Vic unlocked the door and entered the house.

"Assalamu Alaikum, Vic," Sahar said.

Seeing her dressed only in panties, Vic was too shocked to return the greeting. "Sahar, did I not ask you to wear clothing?" he said.

"But Vic, I am wearing clothing." Sahar smiled.

"You know what I mean, Sahar."

"But Vic, I am wearing the clothing you bought for me. Would you prefer that I take off my panties?" She smiled again and with her thumbs hooked into the waistband of the panties she began sliding the garment down over her hips, exposing her belly button and lower belly, and getting close to exposing her hairless groin with its cute little girl crack.

Sahar paused then, teasing the strong man. She relished the new power that she was just discovering she had over him, pussy power. It was clear to her that he was fascinated by the forbidden sight of her hairless female groin. His eyes were drawn to that still covered spot, half wanting to see it and half not wanting to. Then she pulled her panties back up.

"I guess I would be a naughty girl if I took off my panties in front of you, wouldn't I, Vic. Maybe you would have to spank my bare bottom if I did that." Sahar said. Then, smiling coyly at him, she added, "Maybe you would like to spank my bare bottom?" What a tease.

Vic groaned. This was one smart little girl. He could not believe he was being undone by a nine-year-old, no less. He could not treat her like she was one of his troops, but he knew he would never get anything done with her running around the house half-naked.

"Sahar, until I make up my mind can you at least wear your nightgown?"

"I shall do as you ask, but only for a short time. As you have told me this is my house too."

He did tell her that and now he wished he had not. "Thank you, Sahar." he said and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet the girl had made it clear what she would prefer his decision to be. There was no doubt in his mind that Sahar wanted him to make love to her.

He was about to go and take a shower when he smelled the aroma of food. Then he asked, "Did you cook something?"

"Yes, and after you have cleaned up I will serve it to you."

Vic had no idea she could cook but whatever she had cooked smelled good. He went to his bedroom and into the master bathroom. He took a quick cold shower hoping it would relieve his growing hard-on.

He couldn't get the thought of Sahar out of his mind, the way she had teased him by almost showing him her little cunt, and by suggesting that he might like to spank her bare bottom. How could a young Muslim girl be so proper and prudish in public, yet behave almost like a little whore at home?

As the water cooled the heat in his loins he wondered just what he was going to do about Sahar. Certainly not give in to her. After all she was only nine years old but she sure did not act that way. She had been trained to please a husband, to become a child bride. Vic finished toweling off and got dressed.

He left the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen. When he entered the kitchen he was glad to see Sahar dressed in her night gown. He sat at the table and she served him a plate full of scrambled eggs, potatoes and onions.

Sahar filled her plate, sat down and gave thanks to Allah for her and Vic. She was always pleased that even though Vic did not give thanks, he always waited for her to finish before he started eating. Hard man, soft heart she thought, and she liked him even more for that.

It was good that she had such a strong man to protect her. She felt safe with him and she knew it would always be so. Tonight after the furniture was delivered she planned to sneak into his bed. He had not forbidden her to do that.

The furniture was delivered and even though the furniture was plain it was obviously of good quality. Sahar was shocked. She asked Vic if he was rich and he said "no." She asked him if all Americans had furniture like this, and he said "many, but not all."

She told him that they should give some of the furniture to the less fortunate. He told her that he already gave to a charity called the Red Cross, also known as the Red Crescent in Moslem countries, and he would now if she would like to give more in her name too.

She thanked him but she said she would prefer he give her donation to the fund to build the mosque. He agreed. It made Sahar even more pleased to see Vic was also a charitable man.

After the furniture was delivered Vic had a hankering for a bacon sandwich. He went to the kitchen but when he opened the refrigerator the bacon was gone. He asked Sahar if she had taken the bacon and she said she could not live in a house that had pork in it.

Vic lamented he was no longer in charge of his own house, Sahar was. Oh well, he thought he could introduce her to turkey bacon. As far as he knew it did not contain pork.

About 2 p.m. he took Sahar over to the Amir's home. Then he drove to the center of town and parked his car.

In the center of town in an unmarked police car:

Sergeant Joe Bets was sitting in the driver's seat reading the paper. Next to him was Tom Hoffman. Ever since the court ruled that the Nazis had the right to wear whatever they wanted and carry the Nazi flag, Joe, a black man, could not stand to look at their little demonstration.

His only hope was that they would screw up and accost one of the other people on the sidewalk. Then he could arrest them and charge them with disturbing the peace. It would be an arrest he would totally enjoy.

"Sarge, the Nazis are here." Tom said.

"Yeah, what's new?" Joe said with disgust and continued reading the newspaper.

Tom continued to watch the Nazis and then he saw a tall man cross the street and stand in their way. "Sarge, I think you better look at this. There is some guy standing in the way of the Nazis."

"There is?" Joe said and dropped his newspaper. He looked across the street and sure enough there was a man dressed in U.S. Army DBU (dress blue uniform) standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

Joe looked at the man and swore he recognized him. He looked the same but he looked older now. He studied the man's face and it dawned on him that he did know the man. It was his old friend from high school, it was Vic Harden.

The last time he heard for Vic was more than fifteen years ago. It was shortly after he blew his Achilles tendon. He had got a postcard from Vic from some foreign country. He could not remember which one.

Joe knew from high school, Vic was one tough dude who did not take crap from anyone. He hoped that Vic would play it cool and let the Nazis make the first move.

On the sidewalk:

Harold Günter saw the man just ahead. Surely the man knew that this was his sidewalk and would get out of his way. As he drew closer to the man he noticed the battle ribbons on the man's chest. "Ha!" he thought, "He probably got them from an army surplus store."

Little did he know he was about to mess with the wrong man. A man that he could not intimidate or bluff out of the way.

Vic stood there silent and rigid as a chunk of hardened steel. No matter what they said or did he would not act until they physically touched him.

When they were about ten feet away from the man Günter called a halt to the march. He walked up to the man and said, "This is a legal parade and you will move out of our way."

Vic knew better and just looked the man in the eyes. Günter looked into Vic's cold, piercing eyes and it sent a chill of fear up and down his spine. After a few seconds, Günter could no longer look at Vic eyes.

He turned his back to Vic and shouted to the teenage boys, "Position one."

The group walked to within a few feet of Vic, stopped and started to shout, "Sieg Heil!" repeatedly, giving the Nazi salute.

In the police car:

"Man Sarge, that guy is cool."

"Yeah," Joe said wishing he could stand there with Vic.

On the sidewalk:

By now Günter expected the man to react or tremble with fear. All the others did. But the man was not trembling, he was. With an act of false bravado Günter walked up to the man and poked him in the chest, not once but three times.

The third time the Nazi poked him Vic grabbed his finger and bent it back. He could have easily broken the man's finger but instead he forced the man to his knees. Günter screamed in pain and ordered the teenaged boys to attack the man.

Vic looked at the boys, scowling at them and he growled at the top of his lungs. Vic towered over the young teens and with their leader so easily defeated they ran away like chickens with their heads chopped off.

"Sir. Let the Nazi go," Vic heard. He turned and saw the black police officer and his partner. He had to look twice but he was sure the black officer was his old friend, Joe Bets.

He let go of the man's finger and Günter jumped to his feet and shouted "Officer, arrest that man. He assaulted me."

"Yes, I saw the whole thing. Sir, I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to come with me."

"Very well," Vic answered.

"Handcuff him," Joe said and pointed to Günter.

"Fucking nigger! I get hand cuffed and he does not."

"Oops! Cursing an officer is a misdemeanor in this state. Put him in the car, I am sure Judge Cohen will love to see you in front of his bench."

"Damn! Jews and Niggers, you will be the first to go."

"That will get you at least ten days in jail. Would you care to try for thirty?"

"I want my lawyer."

"Read him his rights and take him to jail, and make sure he gets his phone call."

"Yes sir," Tom said with a smile.

Tom read Günter his rights, put him in the back of the unmarked police car and then drove off.

After the police car moved off, Joe extended his hand and said, "Vic. Where the hell have you been? You look great."

Vic shook his old friend's hand and said, "In the service."

Joe asked Vic if he would like a cup of coffee and Vic said yes. The two men went to a coffee house, sat down and talked for some time. Joe brought Vic up to date, telling him how after blowing out his tendon he returned home and married Jane Dugan. He now had a boy, Joe Jr., nine years old, and a little girl named Grace, seven years old.

Vic remembered Jane, she was a pretty white girl. She and Joe had been an item for a long time. He was happy for his old friend.

Vic could not tell Joe much of anything he had done in the service. All his records were sealed as secret or top secret. But he did tell him about Sahar. Joe was surprised but happy for Vic.

Joe also told his old friend that because he had stood up to the NSM it would make him and Sahar a target. Vic had already considered that but he knew from the old saying, "Evil flourishes while good men do nothing." He was not the kind of man who could stand idly by and let a cancer like the NSM go unchallenged.

He considered the NSM a bunch of terrorists and he was an expert in counter terrorism, counter insurgency, and the art of war. He knew full well he could protect his home and Sahar as well, and if need be show the NSM the true meaning of terror.

The last thing Joe did was invite Vic over for a hamburger and hot dog BBQ on Saturday. Vic accepted on one condition, that Joe use only kosher hot dogs. Joe laughed and said he would.

Vic returned to the Amir's home and picked up Sahar. He gave Azeem $400 for Sahar's donation for the month. Azeem saw through Vic's lavish donation and returned $300 to Vic. Vic smiled, then took Sahar to the grocery store. He let her pick out the food she wanted to cook, but he included a package of turkey bacon.

Sahar was surprised that the bacon was not made from pork but she accepted Vic's word that it was not. She knew her hard man was an honest person and he would never lie to her.

After dinner Vic rigged up several non-lethal warning devices. Sahar asked him why he would do such a thing and Vic told her it was protection from thieves. She was puzzled and asked how America dealt with such criminals.

Vic told her when thieves were caught they were sent to jail. Sahar said that thieves should have their right hands cut off, it was a more fitting punishment. Vic told her that America had laws against cruel and unusual punishment.

Sahar said that perhaps if they cut one or two thieves' hands off on television that others would be less likely to steal. Vic smiled and said perhaps that was so.

Later that evening after going to bed Vic was somewhere between the twilight of consciousness and sleep. In his fog-clouded mind he felt something moving close to him. He reached out for what his brain told him was an enemy entering his fox hole.

Sahar felt his arms around her neck. She felt her head twist and she screamed, "Vic!"

The scream jolted Vic out of his haze. He opened his eyes and realized that he was one second away from shattering Sahar's neck. He released his grip and said, "Sahar, I am so sorry, I thought you were someone else." He had yet to realize that she was totally naked.

Sahar wiped the tears from her eyes. She should have been afraid of him but for some reason she was not. She smiled at Vic and asked, "Why did you think I was someone else?"

Vic explained that after so many years of combat and conditioning anyone who entered his bed without his knowledge, his mind would consider that person as an enemy.

She smiled, "Then we should sleep together. That way you would not consider me as hostile to you."

It was then that Vic realized she was totally naked. "Sahar, did you not tell me you would give it some time?"

"That is not what matters anymore. What matters is, what would happen if I needed something and came into your room? You believing me to be hostile, you could kill me. Is this not true?"

Vic knew it was true and saw no way out of the predicament and so he answered, "Yes, it is possible."

"Good," Sahar said, "then it is settled. From now on we shall sleep together." She smiled and adeptly slipped under the covers.

Vic wanted to protest but when he felt the softness of her skin against his he lost all logical reasons for seeing her as a nine-year-old girl. He now saw her as a grown woman, a woman he could make love to. He took her into his arms and kissed her.

Sahar kissed him back. She no longer just liked Vic, she loved him and hoped some day he would ask her to marry him. But if he did not, she would be satisfied to be his concubine as long as she lived.

Vic explored Sahar's small body and took pleasure in the softness of her skin. He fondled her small nipples, softly caressing them until they filled with stiffness. Continuing their long passionate kiss he slid his hands down her legs.

Sahar opened her legs and granted him full access to her body. She belonged to him and hoped she would be pleasing to him.

Vic felt her small vagina. It was so tiny compared to his hand. He hoped he would not hurt her, but he knew no matter how hard he tried not to he would.

Sahar felt his hand between her legs. She felt herself being opened by his fingers. At first it felt very strange, but soon she felt herself becoming wet and excited. This was not something her mother had told her about.

She stopped kissing Vic and asked, "Vic, what is happening to me?"

Vic smiled and said, "Sex is not only pleasurable for a man but for a woman also."

Sahar thanked Allah for a man who had such knowledge, she was truly blessed. She put her lips to his and kissed him with every fiber of her being.

Vic gently stroked her small clit and he felt her begin to tremble.

"Vic," she cried, "it feels so good."

He slipped his finger into her little opening. Sliding his finger in and out of her, he tenderly rubbed her clit with each stroke. He sensed she was close to orgasm. When he felt her whole body shake, he drove the full length of his finger deep into her.

"V---i---c!" Sahar cried out in pleasure mixed with the pain of having her virginal hymen shattered by Vic's invading finger.

To be continued.

Email: loki925@hotmail.com