They had had me for three months now and whatever they had done to me I was not the man they had captured. I was unconscious then and had drifted in and out of oblivion for several weeks. I knew that because they had thoughtfully marked off a calendar on the wall of my room. When I finally came to properly it was obvious that something had either been done to me or had just happened. My money was on "done to me".

I knew he was coming. I could smell him as he approached. It seemed that with every day that passed I could smell them further and further away. I was glad of that, because it gave me more time to get ready for them. I dropped the flimsy robe that was all they provided me with to the floor and stood admiring myself in the mirror that they had placed in my room.

They had given me the full-length looking-glass so that I could supposedly savour my humiliation, and perhaps that first day when I woke up they had been right. They thought it was hilarious to be serviced by someone who had been an American soldier and I had been totally bewildered by the intensity of that strange desire so utterly alien to my former nature.

With the passage of time, though, it was becoming harder and harder for me to remember those initial feelings. My body had totally changed in a couple of months and my mind had changed with it, was still changing, my senses becoming sharper, my compulsion more familiar and natural.

They just did not appreciate the psychological change in me. There’s no free will involved in this. I assume it’s all about the hormones and whatever other processes are still working within me. I HAVE to have these men. There is nothing humiliating in a need that transcends all thought, a visceral requirement that cannot be denied. Now I really look forward to the visits and the release and the total pleasure they provide to me. An addiction is just that; something that you cannot do without......that must be satisfied.

As I gazed at myself, naked, I slipped the fingers of one hand into the slit between my legs, spreading the lips of my clitoris apart with the other so that I could better lubricate myself. When I had three fingers in my vagina I shifted the free hand to my breasts and cupped the fullness of their swelling and caressed my nipples. They hardened beautifully and I began to pant in anticipation of the experience I was about to have. I rubbed myself harder and exulted in the arousal in my pussy, knowing it would only get better soon.

Sensing when he was about to enter the room I dropped to all fours. They are usually even more turned on when they see me in what they fondly imagine is a fully submissive position. I am sure that they don’t know about this extra-sensory perception I have when they approach. More than one of them has taken me anally, but I like that just as much as long as I have moistened myself sufficiently and it seems to satisfy my craving for penetration in exactly the same way. It did hurt the first time and of course was intended to cause pain. After that I made sure I was prepared.

The door opened and my latest partner entered. He was very young, no more than a teenager, and seemed almost scared, but like the others of his kind, bravado, the sense of revenge, and triumph carried him forward.

I crawled to him and unzipped the fly of his pants, reaching in to pull his erect penis out from within his underpants. It was a nice specimen, about seven inches long and quite thick, not the biggest and longest that I had had, but adequate.

Caressing his member gently I then released his garments so that they fell to the ground. I moaned and cooed and crooned as I knew they liked, but actually I wasn’t acting. My whole consciousness was focussed on his member. It smelt delicious and I knew it would taste even better.

My fingernails ran along the whole length of it, almost of their own accord. It was amazing how fast they had grown in the last few weeks and how I had learned to use them to heighten the sensations of the men who came to me.

His foreskin slid back under my ministrations, exposing a pulsing purple helmet, from which I licked a drop of precum with the tip of my tongue. The only way I could restrain myself from engulfing him totally was because I wanted to prolong the whole delicious experience.

I simply cannot describe the glorious aroma and taste of that cock, perhaps because he was young or perhaps my senses were becoming ever more needful of the twice daily injections of male ejaculation.

Ever so slowly I slid my lips along the length of him and then back again, massaging that throbbing swelling at its end, nibbling a little with my delicate white teeth. He was almost paralysed as I looked up into his face from under my eyelashes, adoring him. Back and forth I slid my lips, lubricating him, keeping the touch light to prolong my pleasure, but finally allowing him to penetrate as far down my throat as he could go and using the muscles there to pull him into an eruption that I joyfully swallowed, every drop disappearing into me.

He stood mesmerised while I licked him clean, once more savouring the taste and smell of his manhood, and then I lifted each of his feet to finally disengage his trousers and remove his sandals.

I was soaking wet with anticipation in my groin, nipples like rocks, panting with desire, but I knew I would have to put in more work to resuscitate him to the point where he could fuck me properly. I could wait for him to get hard again. It heightened my ultimate pleasure. As long as it actually happened my needs would be fulfilled and so far I had not failed to rouse any of them to a second climax.

I pushed him back onto the couch that doubled for a bed in my room. Up to now I had been the epitome of submissiveness, the cock-sucking female wet dream so craved by these self-proclaimed heroes. I would have to suck him again to get him to give me what I had to have, but I would do what was necessary to achieve my aims.

Patiently I began to knead his half-limp rod, and he, being young, responded fairly quickly. With fingers and lips I brought him back to a satisfactory hardness. Cooing wordlessly I let him think that I was enraptured with his maleness and when I was ready I lay down and pulled him on top of me. I do love that penetration when the man thinks he is the aggressor and stabs into you with his weapon. It is the most wonderful feeling when he pierces you to your very soul, but you know that you are actually in control, your internal muscles holding him inside of you and refusing to let go until he spurts all of his seed into you.

It was at that moment when the compulsion left me that I felt the most fulfilled. I had drained the male of his most valuable possession and he was utterly spent, whereas I could have done it all over again...and again.....and again. There is such power in being a woman, which a mere male can never know.

The young man put on his clothes, while I smiled lazily at him from the couch. I wouldn’t have minded having him again, but they never seemed to send the same man twice, not that it mattered terribly to me. It was just a male that I had to have.....any male at all.

Two men had watched the performance of the blue-eyed blonde-haired girl servicing the young jihadi through cameras hidden in the room. Both were dressed in western garb even though both were Arabs. One wore the white coat commonly associated with doctors or medical personnel, his demeanour sombre.

The other was chortling, barely able to contain his glee.

“Ibrahim, you are even more of a genius than I thought you were. Was that whore truly an American soldier only a few months ago?”

“Yes, Lord Osama.”

“And she is female in every aspect?”

“Yes, My Leader. She had her first menstrual cycle a week ago, and my examinations show that she has a complete set of female reproductive organs. She should even be capable of bearing children.”

“And she actually is forced to have sexual relations twice a day?”

“Only forced in the sense that she is incapable of resisting. She is literally addicted to it.”

“You can change any of them....all of them.... in the same manner?”

Ibrahim sighed.

“Yes, Lord Osama, I can.”

“Oh, this is wonderful. What a truly suitable punishment. We can have thousands......no......tens of thousands......of former Crusaders serving in our harems, pleasuring our fighters just like the houris of heaven foretold in the Holy Book. And our young men will no longer have to die to enter into Paradise. Victory will be ours for all time. Oh, Ibrahim, I knew my faith in you would be rewarded. Tell me how you did it.”

Ibrahim did not look triumphant, as did his leader.

“My Lord, I experimented with various combinations of genes and viruses. This one was in part a derivative of the AIDS virus and some recessive genes that I managed to splice on to the virus. It is thousands of times more contagious than normal AIDS.”

“So how do we infect the Crusaders?”

“Very easily, Lord Caliph. It can be spread in the air, by aerosol, in drinking water, and by physical contact. It has a contagion factor of more than 99% as far as I can tell up till now, and it begins to take effect in days.”

“You mean 99% of them will be affected. That’s fantastic. There will be no more armies, and very few of the infidel Americans.”

He guffawed.

“And we will finally be able to destroy the Zionists! Oh, joyous day!”

“Yes, Great Leader, but it does not differentiate between true believers and the heathens. I wish you had taken my advice and not come here. I have been too successful.”

“What do you mean, Ibrahim?”

"All who have come into contact with her have themselves begun to change."

So saying,Ibrahim dropped to his knees, reached forward and pulled down the zip on his leader’s fly.

“Lord Osama, you smell irresistible.”