Assaulted From Behind

Your head is suddenly thrust into the sink basin. You try to lift yourself up, but a **** on the back or your head prevents you from doing so. You feel your hijab ripped of your neck and your hand flail around wildly in confusion before you feel them being grabbed and tied with something.

What was happening? You’re certain you were alone. Someone must have been in the stall! Why were they doing this to you?!

With your head pinned in the sink basin, you are essentially bent over at a right angle. Your feet are even dangling an inch above the ground. This man has you completely subdued. Their is quite literally nothing you can do.

You feel your skirt being raised up, and the gentle breeze on you pussy let’s you know this man has hiked up your dress. With not a second of hesitation, this man begins thrusting himself into your slick cunt. Luckily, you are still wet from your previous encounter, but the idea that this man was ready and willing to go in dry dose frighten you.

The feeling of his sick entering your pussy is… strange, to say the least. Tired and broken, you are no longer able to suppress your responses. You gently moan as the stranger fucks you.

You felt how the strangers was ramming into you hard and fast. How his hard dock was prodding your virgin cunt. From this you felt only mild pleasure, then again you doubt this man was doing this to please you.

Sobbing and moaning, your mind sifted from the situation at hand. You began to think of what people should say if they saw you now? A myriad of encounters flew through your head. You imagined young men jerking off to your desecration. You imagined schoolgirls pointing and laughing. You imagined teen girls taking photos and posting them online. You imagined young women berating you for stealing their man. You imagined older women, gossiping about how much of a whore your were. And you imagined a motherly woman, filled with disappointment and anger, screaming degrading insults at you in Arabic.

Wait, Arabic? Why Arabic?

Well, because she’s Arabic of course! All the people were. And they were all dressed in Muslim garb.

Why would you picture people like that?

Why wouldn’t you imaging people who are like you. You’re an Arab Muslim, so you should imagine Arab Muslims.

I’m… an Arab… Muslim?

You’re an Arab Muslim.

I’m an Arab… Muslim…

You’re an Arab Muslim.

I’m an Arab Muslim!

You’re snapped out of your strange thoughts by a feeling of warmth spreading throughout your pelvis. The man seemed to have stopped thrusting into you. Soon you feel his hand remove itself from the back of your head. You hear the bathroom door open and close behind you. You lie in the basin stunned for several more minutes. When you do attempt to get up, your weak legs give underneath you, and you collapse to the floor. Looking around, you see that you had failed to notice the urinals when you entered. That was strange? Why didn’t they seem out of place to you? Surely you would have realized their aren’t any urinals in the women’s bathrooms?

You lay on the ground for a while longer, until the feeling of fluid dripping down your thigh became annoying enough to spit action. You sit yourself up and take a look at your crotch. Copious amounts of whit liquid was spilling out. Your mother had never taught you how to deal with things like this, so you dived to solve it like it was your period. You reach into your purse and take out your spare tampon, which you insert inside yourself to stop the annoying dripping. Good job Zahara! After all, can’t have you walking around like some common مومس!