the perfect cube

THE PERFECT CUBE

A Tale of Siblings

By Izzy Ess of Incestuousness

SECTION I:

Her purse was like a perfect cube, about a foot for each dimension.  She carried it at her side as if it had some nitroglycerin in it, or TNT, which would explode if she just jarred it slightly.  Gliding through the old bazaar, she stopped just briefly to examine the tomatoes for their firmness.  Her fancy dress did indicate that she was from the upper crust of her society, Bagdad, where almost everyone was Muslim.  She wore a silken jet black burka which set off her bright white dress and robes, her hazel eyes and her long eyelashes, dramatically, inasmuch as the mask-like piece that hung across her face left only startling eyes to pierce her line of vision.  She stared at nothing in particular but seemed to navigate quite accurately through the throng of people at the marketplace.  All the men wore turbans and those flowing robes that loosely hung off both their shoulders with a casualness that was practiced.  Rarely, one could spot a man of the highest caste with bright white robes, a bright white turban and a silken mask that hid his face and neck from public view.  His black silk sash would be as striking as a golden chain.

The floating woman glanced briefly at the figs and moved on to the central building which was ancient.  It might have been there since the time of Christ.  It was a very pale beige colour like the sand from which it came and gray stone features which had special beauty for the practiced eye.  The Roman arch in front was matched by Roman arches on the windows that were boarded up.  No glass was present anywhere.  The building probably predated by many centuries the use of glass for windows.  The floating woman floated in and disappeared into the darkness of the ancient building.

A scream accompanied the floating woman as she flew outside so quickly that she was a blur.  She sped away and exited the marketplace by the Eastern Gate, another ancient structure, standing free without the ancient walls that must have stood there many years ago.  The wail of sirens heralded arrival of police and ambulances, all white with crescent logos on their sides and Arabic writing warning that the vehicles were official transportation for the EMTs and cadet Police that jumped out of them and entered the ancient building.  The Police had drawn their guns and held their clubs anticipating an attack.  I followed them inside before they kicked me out.  A very wealthy bright white robed and turbaned man lay on the floor.  Blood was oozing from his mouth and nose and from the knife wounds in his chest and arms and abdomen.  There must have been at least a dozen stab wounds on the front of him.  Dozens of people crowded in to see the spectacle while no one checked to see if he was really dead.  Finally, the paramedics checked him and turned him to establish that his death was real.  On his back, there were some other stab wounds all with oozing blood.  A paramedic covered him with a large off-white sheet and four of them lifted him unto an ambulance cart with wheels whose scissorred legs enable one to put it almost flat upon the floor.  When the covered body was secured, the legs were unscissored and the cart was wheeled outside to an ambulance and transported, presumably, to the morgue, for close examination.  The cause of death was obviously piercing of the heart and lungs with a long sharp blade.

Besides myself, there were some customers who had noticed the woman with the cubic bag float in and then run out of the ancient marketplace building just before the scream that attracted us to the murder victim.  One policeman made a drawing from my description of the woman with the cubic purse.  Besides the purse, I emphasized the eyes which were so striking.  The other witnesses confirmed that she had magnificent eyes and a stunning cubic purse.  The others also had the distinct impression that she entered the ancient building quietly and then she almost flew out of it at about 10:15 am.  No one had noticed anything about the victim, when he came or when he went or what he looked at prior to his death.  Everyone said the obvious thing that his robes suggested he was rich.

The coroner identified the victim as Achmed Hussein bin Mohammed, the CEO and owner of Mohammed Industries which built oil pipe-lines and transported oil by way of tankers that were built in his own factories.  Mohammed Industries were well known in Iraq and in many ports around the world, as tankers with that name were docked in many places, seemingly, always.  Mohammed Industries had no public stock holders.  It was all family owned by three brothers, Achmed, Moamar and Aladdin, and a sister, Jasmine.  Like the dead man, Achmed, all wore western types of fashions underneath their bright white robes. The men wore dark pin-striped suits with black leather shoes and tartan ties.  Jasmine wore a thin black silky dress that showed a lot of leg and cleavage underneath her bright white robes and burkas.  She loved accessories.  The one she carried now was a cubic beige leather purse accentuated with Mother of Pearl.  The nacre spots were very delicate and made another fashion announcement that the bearer of this purse is very rich.  Moamar called for the company limo and rushed to see Achmed at the hospital’s autopsy room.  The surviving siblings sobbed quietly as Achmed lay there naked while the coroner prepared to do the post-mortem.  Briefly, he pointed out to the oldest brother, now, Moamar, that a knife had pierced the body 20 times, at least, and that it was likely that the vital organs under the skin were presumably pierced and damaged.  This would have caused significant internal bleeding and death by blood loss and shock. It looked as if two wounds were directly over the heart.  The knife might have pierced the heart, in which case death would have been almost instantaneous.  “There would have been no time for suffering, if a knife blade had pierced the heart!” the coroner said to the siblings just before he started the procedure.  “Please get back behind the observation window.  I must get started and start collecting samples of his blood for tests.  Wait… Was he on any medications or drugs?”  All the siblings nodded, “No!” and walked to get behind the observation window.  When the chest was opened, there it was: a large hole had been opened in the front aspect of the heart.  Later, studies would show that the point of the knife had torn two valves and their attachments, which would have hastened death.

Achmed’s siblings, all now significantly richer than they were before Achmed Hussein bin Mohammed, was killed, quietly discussed the post-mortem preliminary findings with the coroner before they left.  They extracted a promise from the coroner that the preliminary and final reports would be made available to the surviving siblings.  They also found out the name of the policeman who would know any investigative details about who might have done this dastardly deed to their brother.  They used their cell phones to call him and made arrangements to meet with him in the morning when the preliminary findings would have been gathered.  In the meantime, there were TV, internet and radio reports abounding all with speculations that the murderer had been a business rival, while a crime of passion could not be excluded from the rumour mills.  Sketches of the mysterious woman were flashed on TV and computer screens.  All of them emphasized her great looking eyes and her very fashionable cubic purse with nacre accents.  All the reports also seemed to say that the woman was strikingly rich and beautiful.

Jasmine was arrested when she and her brothers, Moamar and Aladdin, entered the Police Headquarters in downtown Bagdad.  She, of course, matched exactly all of the witnesses’ reports.  She even carried the cubic purse and her eyes were truly magnificent.  They supplied a black burka to her with a mask that left only her beautiful eyes visible.  I and several other witnesses identified Jasmine as looking exactly like the woman we had seen in the bazaar.  Jasmine was handcuffed and led to an office where she was fingerprinted and processed for an official arrest and imprisonment, pending an appearance before a judge that morning.  The judge examined the witnesses’ reports, including mine and had us repeat our observations in front of Jasmine.  When the judge pointed to her and asked, “Is this the woman that you saw?” all of us shrugged our shoulders and said, “I can’t be absolutely sure but she certainly looks like the woman I saw.”  The judge set bail at one million and took a ten percent check from Moamar.  A clerk took the check and recorded it and the judge looked through his book.  Finally, he said, “You must appear in the court upstairs on this date and by this time or you will lose your bail money.  There will be a trial with a judge but you may bring your lawyer and he may demand a jury trial.  Do you understand, Miss Jasmine?”  Moamar stepped forward.  “I am a lawyer, your honour.  I will represent Jasmine until she chooses to find another lawyer outside the family.  And, ‘Yes!’, I demand a jury trial for my sister, Jasmine.  Here is my license to practice law in Iraq and here is my certificate for Law School and for my Bagdad Office, downtown.  And here is my combined Mohammed Industries and Advocate Card with all the telephone and fax numbers and my official web site address.”  Moamar handed him the documents that he had listed for perusal by the judge.  The clerk took it all and copied everything immediately and handed the originals back to Moamar.  Jasmine indicated that she wanted her handcuffs removed and Moamar repeated this as an official legal request.  The judge nodded to the guard and the guard used his key to remove the handcuffs.  Jasmine whispered, “Thank you.” and rubbed her wrists to take away the pressure marks the cuffs had caused.  She took her brother Aladdin’s arm and left the court with him.  They waited outside for their brother Moamar who needed to collect his documents that he had used to establish he was qualified to be Jasmine’s lawyer.  When Moamar joined them on the steps of the court rooms and police headquarters, their company limo awaited them and whisked them off to their estate in Tabi, a suburb of Bagdad, where Tabby Cats had been developed and breeded.  Jasmine thanked her brothers for all their support and assistance and tried to relax in the passenger section of their huge Mercedes white limousine with an understated logo of Mohammed Industries in black on the side door of the limo, on the driver’s side.

The media was a spectacle of speculations regarding the murder of the very wealthy Achmed Hussein bin Mohammed possibly by his sister Jasmine.  Their mansion in Tabi was cordoned off and the crime investigators of Bagdad swarmed in to take their photographs and what they considered possible evidence.  All the computers and cell phones were confiscated, as well as all the kitchen knives and Moamar’s collections of WWII weapons, including many original Nazi Lugers and the bayonets for German rifles.  Of course, the cubic purses were all taken and most of the dark burkas were tagged and confiscated.  Most of the family portraits were bagged and taken.  The house look ransacked by the time the thorough investigators left.  Jasmine sighed and said, “I guess I’ll have to buy a whole new wardrobe and accessories, now.  I guess cubic purses are presently forbidden.  And, of course, we need some new computers.  Moamar, do we still have those old ones in the storeroom of our offices?”  Aladdin offered, “Why don’t we just get some of those new Apples or Macintoshes?”  “Good idea!” said Moamar and Jasmine, simultaneously.  “I’ll get on it just as soon as these cops get out of here.  They may return and snatch the new computers, unexpectedly.  We may never see the old ones, again.  I hope you two do regular backups.  We’ll need to use the backup data to restore our stuff; otherwise we’ll have to start again with all our schedules and our accounts.  And, incidentally, my computer had all my passwords.  We’ll have to start anew with those or someone with the police will help themselves to anything they can get.”  “D’Accord, my brothers,” said Jasmine.  Let’s get on it this afternoon.  OK?”  “’S’OK!” said Moamar like his favourite old comedian and ventriloquist, Senor Wences.  Everyone smiled and tried to imitate Moamar.  “’S’OK!” echoed around their grand home for hours before the echo settled down.  They checked upstairs.  Achmed’s bedroom had been ransacked and Jasmine’s bedroom and sitting room had also been emptied.  New sheets and pillow cases would be needed.  “Oh, fuck it, guys.  “I’ll treat you all to a night at the Imperial Bagdad Hotel and Spa and Ristorante.  We’ll let the staff restore our rooms tonight.  Whaddya say?”  Both her brothers took her offer and Moamar ordered the limousine to be brought around.  He called on his one remaining cell phone and reported, “We’re in luck, my sister and my brother.  The Imperial Suite at the Bagdad Hotel awaits us and we have reservations at the Middle East Restaurant for dinner at 6:00 o’clock.  Avanti!”  They left immediately and took their limousine.

At the hotel, they had no bags to be brought up to their room.  However, they had the money and the credit cards to stop off in the shopping areas of the hotel to buy some things to help them freshen up.  The boys bought dinner jackets that resembled blazers with a crest of the hotel on their front pockets.  They also bought some brightly coloured silk bandanas to wear around their throats to look like ascots.  Jasmine found a lounging, silken, one-piece pajama dress with flared bell bottom pant legs et une décolleté that didn’t stop until it hit the belly button.  They claimed their prizes and took their special penthouse elevator to their luxurious room.  Immediately they stripped right down to their birthday suits and put on their newly purchased clothes to get to the restaurant at their appointed time.  At 6:00 pm, sharp, they claimed their reservation at the most spacious table in the room.  Jasmine ordered a Tom Collins and an American Surf and Turf, medium rare.  Aladdin ordered chicken shish kabob dinner with rice and Feta cheese salada, and a 750 ml. bottle of Zinfandel.  Moamar asked for a straight up Johnny Walker Black and a whole steamed Zinderfilet, or Barramundi, from Hungary which he could carve with a butter knife.  The siblings set a plate for Achmed of his favourite falafel with lamb chops and a glass full of his favourite drink, Kahlua.  The siblings clinked their glasses with Achmed’s glass of Kahlua and cried as they said good-bye to their older brother.  They sampled all his food and drinks and let him have some samples of their own.  By the end of the meal, all the plates and cups and glasses had been emptied, including Achmed’s.  The siblings laughed as they remembered happy times at home when they were young and shared their food and bodies.

After a happy meal, the three surviving siblings made it up to their penthouse suite with a half a bottle of Zinfandel and some falafel and chicken shishkabob.  They nibbled at the food and sipped the white Zinfandel as they undressed and headed for the showers.  Completely naked, they took a splashy shower together helping with the soaping and the rinsing, especially of private parts.  They dried each other off with those luxurious thick terrycloth hotel towels and paid very close attention to their private parts.  Jasmine looked at Aladdin and asked, “Are you as big as Achmed was, my dear?”  “I’m not sure,” Aladdin said.  “How big was Achmed’s penis?”  Jasmine grabbed his penis and massaged it ‘til it grew to a tremendous size and started throbbing.  “Hmm,” she said.  “I think you’re bigger now than Achmed was and he was huge.  May I?”  “Of course,” said Aladdin.  Jasmine kneeled and took the giant head of Aladdin’s penis in her mouth.  She gagged and laughed and said, “Yep, Aladdin, you’re bigger than Achmed was.  You look like you’re ready to explode.  What’s your pleasure, my Prince of the Giant Wee-Wee?”  “I’ll take your honey pot, if that’s OK with you?”  “OK!  It’s yours my Prince.  Bang away!”  She lay down on the bed and spread her legs while lifting both her knees.  “I’m all yours my darling brother.  Have a ball!”  “Hey, how about me?” asked Moamar standing naked with his erect penis in his hand.  “May I come next, Jasmine?”  As Aladdin settled into her, Jasmine indicated to Moamar to put his knees beside her head and she would suck him off while Aladdin fucked her.  As jasmine serviced both her brothers she was serviced, too.  This was a throwback in honour of their deceased brother of the play times that they had since they were very young.

The four of them had bathed together since they were infants.  Their parents encouraged them to explore and touch each other saying to them, it was a good thing to do to get experience for when they got married.  None of them had gotten married.  When their parents died, they vowed to stay together as a foursome and explore each other as they always wished them to.  Of course there were affairs outside the quartet of siblings.  They never lasted long and never seemed as satisfying as the Mohammed Industries Quartet of Lovers.  At any time, in any place, there would be surreptitious touching or fondling and actual penetrating.  It was a wonder that Jasmine was never pregnant.  The frequency with which she accepted semen into her vagina from her three brothers was astonishing.  Often, every day, she would get contributions from each of her three male siblings and sometimes, twice a day.  Expressions of love were heart felt and most warming for them all.  Sexual favours were the rule for everything they did, including making million dollar deals or getting cornered in a washroom or arising from their sleep on Monday, Thursday or Sunday mornings.  They admitted that the frequency of sex was falling slowly, while the quality of their encounters was admittedly more loving.  Achmed’s death reminded them that they were everything they wanted.  From that night on, the sex became more frequent and more vigourous. 

The bin Mohammed siblings had no way of knowing that all their sexual activities were being accurately recorded by the bugs and hidden cameras behind the one-way mirrors and the air vents, all around the room, so as not to miss a single stroke.  They did not suspect that, as they had vacated their huge home earlier that evening, the police had installed bugs and cameras in every nook and cranny, from the kitchen to the toilets, from the garage to the basement and from the attic to the sun room.

SECTION II:

A handsome American Oil man was calling from a pay phone in the downtown area of Bagdad.  He wanted to see the CEO of Mohammed Enterprises, the official business name of the bin Mohammed family, which appeared in all the business journals.  Jasmine sensed he was handsome when she answered the phone, and a pleasant seductive voice asked for her, directly.  She explained that she was only one of the CEOs that operated her family business.  She explained that Aladdin and Moamar bin Mohammed were the other stewards of the private company.  The man was patient as he listened to her explanation.  Finally he said, “May I make an official appointment to see you all in your board room in your headquarters in Bagdad?  Is there a number I can call to speak with whatever secretary works for you, that makes appointments?  I need about an hour to discuss with you a serious business proposition.”  Jasmine didn’t like the sound of it.  “I need to clear the schedules of my brothers and my own to accommodate you.  I can get back to you.  Where can you be reached?”  The seductive voice responded, patiently and quietly: “I’m not staying in Bagdad.  I’m living in my private jet parked in the tiny airport north of you.  My name is Manuel Korngold; that’s with a ‘K.’ I have a private cell phone number and I can give that to you but I’d rather not use this unsecured line.  Perhaps the best thing would be for you to bring your brothers and board my jet at Bagdad’s Osama bin Laden’s Aeroport.  I’m sure you know how to get there.  I’ll go there now and wait three days.  If you don’t appear, there will be consequences that would be quite deleterious to all of you.  This is not a prank.  It is a serious proposal that none of you will find difficult to refuse.  It would be seriously worthwhile for all of you to hear me out.  Do you understand, Ms. Jasmine?”  Jasmine was a little stunned to hear such simple language in the form of a threat.  She recovered and said, “As I said, Mr. Korngold, I will take you seriously when I find out what you are offering or threatening.  I will help my brothers to clear their schedules and come and meet with you within three days.  Is there anything we need to prepare for this meeting?”  There was a pregnant pause and Mr. Korngold said simply, “No.  I shall be looking forward to our meeting.  I’ve learned that you are beautiful and I, for one, appreciate beauty in the board room.  A bientot, Ms. Jasmine.”  The phone went dead.  The trace showed that the call had been made from a downtown Bagdad pay phone.   Jasmine and later, her brothers, listened to the conversation several times but didn’t have a clue about the nature of the proposal that was going to be levelled at them.  Nor did they recognize the voice.  Jasmine was good at accents and she guessed that the gentleman was an American from the southern part of the USA, say Texas, Louisiana or Arkansas.  She said it sounded very much like former President, Philip Jefferson Brigham.

                                                                                          

From the limousine that Moamar was driving, disguised as a chauffeur, the bin Mohammed siblings saw the white Lear jet parked on the tarmac.  It was the only plane there was.  Moamar removed his cap and checked his Colt 45 pistol in the holster underneath his chauffeur’s uniform jacket.  The magazine was full.  The siblings disembarked and removed their sunglasses.  Jasmine was wearing a simple black dress with lacy slits on her chest and up her thighs.  She would have looked at home in Hollywood on any of the red-carpet events that are held there.  Moamar sported an Omar Sharif moustache and looked very handsome in his chauffeurs’ uniform with his cap under his left armpit, disguising somewhat the bulge that was his Colt 45.  Aladdin had worn his bright white silk suit plus an Arabic turban with an extension in the back which covered his neck and both sides of his face.

A tall handsome, white haired, smiling Philip Jefferson Brigham opened wide the swing door of his aeroplane and let the staircase drop to reach the tarmac.  He descended skillfully and approached the limousine and the three bin Mohammed siblings.  He reached for Jasmine’s hand as she had extended it.  Brigham kissed her hand and smiled.  Behind him, descending the staircase were two US Air Force officers, the pilot, co-pilot and the body guards for Brigham.  Brigham stepped toward the brothers and shook their hands with vigour and confidence.  “I recognize you all!” he said, as he finished shaking hands with Aladdin and Moamar.  “The pictures don’t do you justice.  You are beautiful and handsome.”

After a few moments of silence while the siblings recovered from recognizing their famous host, Jasmine said, “And you, Mr. President, look trimmer than your pictures show and much taller and handsomer.”  “I agree,” said both Moamar and Aladdin.  “How’s Sylvia?” asked Moamar.  “Did you bring her with you?”  Phil Brigham turned around and whistled.  “Sylvie, baby, how would you like to make an appearance?”  Sylvia Brigham came through the door of the jet and descended the staircase.  Since the last time she was seen, before she handed over the reins of her Cabinet Post of Secretary of State, she had looked tired and overweight, harassed and lacking in confidence.  Now she looked almost svelte, dressed almost exactly like Jasmine.  She had changed from dowdy to sexy in the last year.  She guessed at their thoughts and said to the bin Mohammed siblings, “Phil treats me very well these days: He tries to keep me barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen of our great condominium in New York.  Inasmuch as he can’t make me pregnant anymore, we practice making babies a lot!”  Everyone laughed heartily with the new improved Mrs. Brigham.  She added, “Now that the little snot is out of the picture, everything is OK between us and I feel wonderfully feminine, again.”  The siblings look puzzled.  “You mean Elsie?”  “No! Elsie’s like Phil; she’s a winner.  I mean the lousy, fuckin’ loser, Jessica Buttinsky!”  Again, all of them laughed heartily.  Sylvia took the time to hug everyone.  When she hugged Moamar, she pointed at his chest and asked, “You have a loaded gun on your teat.  Doesn’t that cramp your style?”  Phil and the Air Force Officers looked directly at Moamar.  Moamar took out the gun and unloaded it.  He handed the gun and bullets to Phil Brigham who handed them to the pilot.  The pilot handed the bullets over to the co-pilot.  They turned in opposite directions and with a baseball motion, pitched the gun and its bullets in opposite directions on the tarmac.

“Shall we?” said former US President Brigham, as he stepped aside to indicate that all of them were invited into Air Force 6 and 7/8’s for a conference.  The inside of the plane was majestically decorated and had partitions which walled off three bedrooms, three toilets and a large conference-living-dining-room, the cockpit being at the front of the plane.  The conference room had a fully stocked bar and all the equipment needed to open bottles of wine and mixing drinks.  Several little tables had snacks of deveined shrimp, Beluga caviar, gourmet crackers and small cubes of Emmantaler and Gruyere cheeses.  There were also sweet gherkins and pickled onions in small bowls with toothpicks.  “Bob, the Pilot, is going to BBQ some good old American steaks with baked potatoes.  Would anyone like to eat first and talk later, or would you all prefer to talk first and eat later?”  “I vote to talk first,” said Jasmine.  Her brothers nodded agreement.  Brigham dimmed the lights and started his computer with a very large screen.  Everyone pulled up their comfy chairs and made a semi-circle around the computer screen.  “Before I start this film, I must say that American Intelligence has uncovered a plot to take over your outstandingly democratic company.  We believe that your brother, Achmed, was shot by an operative, disguised as you, Jasmine, as a preliminary move to start the unfriendly takeover of your business.  Someone in the Bagdad Police Force is in on it.  That someone, whose identity is still unknown, sent an agent to see me with the following film.  Sylvia and I are the only Americans that have seen it.  As far as I know, there are no other copies, though I would be suspicious of the instigator because he could have figured that I might try and help you on the grounds that your company is friendly to the common folks and appears quite democratic; it cannot so far be controlled by a Muslim extremist organization.  My plan is to destroy the films and make sure there are no other copies.  My associates are already working on the theory that there were copies made for the possibility that I would be friendly to you and not help whoever is behind this to destroy your reputation and your company.  Are you all ready for the film?”  “Go!” said Jasmine, pointing to the screen.

The screen showed the Logo of the United States Homeland Security Department of the USA Government.  That faded and in its place, a movie of poor quality was starting.  The film was quite familiar to the bin Mohammed siblings.  It was a record of their sexual activities in the penthouse of the hotel in which they stayed after Achmed was murdered.  The next sequences were from their home, again clipped to show their incestuous sexual activity.  The siblings could see that they really loved and cared for each other and took care of their natural urges.  They could also feel rising rage as they realized that someone had filmed them in their very private moments with each other.  And, they realized how damaging to their organization would be the general release of these film clips to the public.  They watched every detail to the end of the clips whichlu Brigham had to show them.

Brigham was the first to speak.  “It is obvious that someone has edited the film to emphasize the incestuous nature of your activities.  This does mean to me that there are clips that have not been included and are possibly being saved for further editing, if necessary.  I see siblings that very much care for each other and love each other very much.  Others would see and think otherwise, as you know.  Any comments before I go on with what has happened since these films were given to me?”

Jasmine spoke with control and obviously suppressed rage.  “I’ve never been ashamed of any of my activities with all my brothers.  Our parents were loving and understanding and encouraged us to touch and feel each other.  The sex followed naturally.  It is one of the reasons that the company runs so smoothly.  Amongst ourselves we are happy with our caring for each other and helping each other out at a sexual level.  It enrages me to know that my brother was killed with a planned attempt to pin it on me.  I will certainly be exonerated, but the show in the court room might ruin me and us.  How can we fight back, President Brigham?”  Sylvia surprised everyone by speaking up first.  “It feels a lot like what happened with Jessica and Phil.  It was a set-up that Phil fell for.  Jessica was sponsored by Republicans to shame Phil and me and force us from the Presidency.  It was a set-up and most people knew it and still voted for Phil.  Most people recognized that since I wasn’t starting divorce proceedings, we still loved each other very much.  It was the hardest thing to get Elsie to understand.  The love was what turned the tables on the Republican bastards who wanted Phil to be shamed out of the White House and the Oval Office.  It was difficult but we eventually won the day and Phil got re-elected.  I didn’t get the nod for the Presidency but I did get to be a mover and a shaker when Barak selected me to be his Secretary of State.  I found it tough and got a bit depressed and worn out, but it was the most exciting job I’ve ever had.”  Privy has it now and he thinks it’ll be a breeze but I think he’ll be rudely awakened one morning and may be replaced by someone fresher and less boring.”  Everyone smiled at this inside information.  Sylvia bowed out and gave the stage to her husband.  It was obvious that she adored him and equally clear that he adored her.  He gave her full credit for getting him the presidency for two terms.

Brigham repeated the story of how he came to have the tapes he had just shown the siblings.  “I’m not sure who the culprit in the Police Force is, nor am I sure who is sponsoring him.  The chances are that the sponsor is extremely rich, like Osama bin Laden was before he was assassinated.  Intelligence is very uncertain about who the sponsor is but they’re pretty sure it’s the Police Chief, himself, who has ambitions to be a power politician.  His backer could be the Ayatollah, or it could be another oil man in the Middle East who wants to get rid of the bin Mohammed siblings who are cutting into his profits.  We have also speculated it might be someone surprising like Gluten who has aspirations to control the flow of oil and natural gas all over the world.  Gluten and Itara are now playing deadly games with the power politicians of the Middle East, specifically those in Syria and Iran.  However, we have no hard evidence that Gluten is the instigator of this plot against you.  If you all have any thoughts about potential enemies, now is a good time to voice them.  My superiors need leads.  At this time, nothing is absolutely clear.  Striking out without hard evidence is dangerous and leads to genocide and border skirmishes that linger on for years.”

Jasmine took the lead.  She seemed to be the real leader of the bin Mohammeds, as much like her father, than any of her brothers.  Her beauty and her honesty shone like beacons that could be followed with safety.  “I seem to recall that a man was once in competition with my father and he lost the game before he could establish a company which could compete with my father’s.  His name was Abdul Nasser bin Aladdin.  I’ve thought of him as a possible enemy.  I haven’t seen, nor heard of him for years.  Do you know him?”  Brigham and his guards nodded in the negative.  “I’ve thought of him lately, in the sense that he’s out of sight.  It reminds me of the old adage, ‘Keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer.’  It would not be like him to withdraw completely without a plan to try again to defeat my father and his progeny.”  Brigham consulted his computer and signed into his own special web site with Homeland Security.  He typed in Abdul Nasser bin Aladdin and waited.  A picture of a General came onto the screen.  It was a Russian General’s uniform that bin Aladdin was wearing.  Brigham clicked for information clarification and the following items were flashed.  Last seen in Moscow in conference with Vladimir Gluten, two months ago.  Former citizenship, Iraqi.  Former associates the bin Mohammeds, Bagdad.  Contacts, Osama bin Laden, Sadaam Hussein, Albert Heiney, George W. Doosh and Vladimir Gluten.  Present Location, Unknown.  Jasmine shouted, “That must be him!  I recognize him, now.  In the pictures of the Bazaar where my brother was killed, he was nearby just before the woman disguised as me killed my brother.  We have to find him, before he causes more damage!”

Philip Jefferson Brigham looked at his wife and smiled.  Sylvia smiled back and nodded at the computer keyboard.  Brigham typed in the information just given him by Jasmine and leaned back while the Homeland Security Web Site flashed several times and repeated its latest information which now included bin Aladdin’s last seen information as the Bagdad Bazaar two weeks ago as sighted by Jasmine on the films of the marketplace seen by her.  The screen then went blank and the distinctive logo of Homeland Security reappeared with a bar to enter questions and information after proper ID is accepted.  Then the logo faded and the familiar face of Barack Hussein Itara, President of the USA, came on the screen.  Itara smiled and said, “Hi Phil.  Hi Sylvia.  Could you introduce me to your guests and turn the screen so I can see them.  Is my ugly face coming through clearly?”  Phil Brigham said, “Hi Barack.  Your ugly puss is coming across clearly and we should be quite secure, as I’m reassured by your pilot and co-pilot.  These are the bin Mohammeds, Jasmine, Aladdin and Moamar.”  Each of the siblings waved as he or she was identified.  Jasmine led her siblings in saying, “It is a great privilege for us to meet you, Mr. President.  We are grateful that you and your government are concerned about our enterprise and that you have taken steps to protect us from being destroyed.”  Itara said, with a huge smile, “Please call me Barak.  My wife is the only one of my associates that calls me Mr. President, if she wants to get my attention.  I’m hoping that we can be friends so that I may call you Jasmine, Aladdin and Moamar.  Will that be OK?”  “Barack, it is.  I would be delighted if you called me Jasmine.  It is an honour for me and a pleasure.”  “It is my pleasure, Jasmine, and may I say that you are more beautiful than your reputation that precedes you.”  Jasmine smiled broadly.  “Yes, you may say that Mr. President… er, Barack.”  All the other siblings exchanged more pleasantries and then they became more serious.  “The sighting you gave us will help us a lot.  If bin Aladdin has been in Bagdad recently, we may be able to find him and stop his plans more efficiently.  Thank you.  As we speak, my geniuses are working on the information and may get something soon to help us all.  Your company is very important to us.  We need to save it and prevent your enemies from destroying what seems to be a jewel of democratic processes within Iraq where democratic processes are rare.”  “Thank you Barack,” was the responses from the bin Mohammeds.  “Thank you, my friends.  I hope we get to see you soon when some resolution is achieved.  I’d love you to meet my family and I’m sure they’d be delighted to meet you.  Good-bye for now.  I’ve got some other duties to attend to.”  The screen went blank again and again the logo was seen.  Phil switched off the computer and relaxed.  Sylvia walked over to him and kissed him on the lips, tenderly.

“Now, are you ready for some food, my friends?”  Everyone nodded in the affirmative.  The pilot and co-pilot served up a delicious meal of steaks and lobsters, which everyone relished and enjoyed.  The bar was well supplied and the drinks were happily accepted.

A loud explosion rocked the aeroplane, just when dessert was being served.  The landing gear was knocked out and the plane settled on its belly.  Everyone was a little shook up, but no one was injured.  The sound of a helicopter was heard above them and then another loud explosion rocked the plane as it lay on its belly.  The pilot and co-pilot drew their weapons and loaded weapons were handed to everyone.  The pilot’s radio squawked, “All clear!  You may disembark.”  Everyone had taken cover on the floor of the aeroplane.  Carefully, they stood up and headed for the door which was opened by the pilot.  Outside were a group of about 50 US Air Force soldiers waving at the group inside the plane that it was safe to disembark.  Everyone jumped about two feet to land upright on the tarmac and be immediately surrounded by soldiers with drawn weapons.  A burning helicopter was seen about 50 feet away.  “We got ‘em. Mr. President.  We got ‘em!  Is anyone hurt?  We have medics with us.”

No one had been harmed.  Five armoured Hummers arrived.  The Brighams and the bin Mohammeds and the two US pilots were herded into them by the other US Air Force armed soldiers and driven off the tarmac.  The Hummers headed for Bagdad’s major Aeroport where a huge 747, marked Air Force One awaited them.  They were then herded onto the huge aeroplane whose engines were already roaring.  The plane took off and headed west.  It landed safely at Heathrow in London for a short time to re-fuel.  It then took off again, across the Atlantic and landed safely at Gander, in Newfoundland, Canada.  Everyone including the US Air Force Presidential Guards disembarked and another fleet of armoured Hummers took them to a private large estate, where they stayed the night as guests of the Prime Minister of Newfoundland.  All slept deeply and awoke refreshed for a huge breakfast.  Fresh fatigues were supplied to the Brighams and the bin Mohammeds.  Yet another fleet of armoured USA Hummers took the group directly to the Gander Aeroport where the refueled Air Force One flew them to Camp David.  President Itara and Adele were there to greet them and to show them their quarters for the next little while.  As a group, they enjoyed meals together, Barack and Adele Itara, Sylvie and Phil Brigham, the two Air Force Pilots and the bin Mohammeds, Jasmine, Aladdin and Moamar.  They became very good friends and enjoyed each other’s company.  The message was loud and clear: it was no longer safe for the bin Mohammeds in Bagdad.  A stay was necessary in Camp David until some safe haven could be established for them.

Jasmine felt safe and content.  She missed Achmed, his wit and his warmth; often she dreamt of him and how he used to get so into her, physically, psychologically and spiritually.  At times she felt so much a part of him, like the way she used to feel about her father when she was tiny and not yet feeling like a woman.  Her father used to bounce her on his knee.  She loved to play with his penis and pet it and stroke it and watch it grow.  She liked to get it big and strong and put it between her legs or in the crease between her buns and squeeze so it throbbed and sometimes squirted.  The stuff that came out was hot and salty and she liked to lick it up.  She liked to get the stuff between her legs and make herself quite slippery and get his penis in between her thighs and slide it back and forth until his penis got so hard and would just start to squirt again.  When she was older and her father had passed away, she did the same with Achmed and it pleased them both, tremendously.  Often, now she awoke with aching in her body for her Achmed.  Often she would want to seek him out at times like this, but he was gone, forever.

Jasmine ached so much for Achmed, she would call for Moamar and Aladdin to help her out.  They would sooth her and stimulate her and the three of them would consummate their love in many ways.  On this particular morning, she wanted Achmed.  In a robe that didn’t hide her much, she left her room quite early and knocked on Brigham’s door.  Sylvia came to the door and saw who it was and let her in.  She was naked and so was Phil who watched the women come to lie beside him.  As much as Phil, her husband, Sylvia enjoyed the warmth and curves of women and much preferred them to those of men.  She kissed and hugged Jasmine, who did respond and kissed and hugged right back.  The women spread their legs and both reached down to rub each other’s private parts.  Phil Brigham was aroused.  He spooned our Jasmine and he got his penis in her honeypot which was already very lubricated.  Sylvia reached over Jasmine and held Phil tightly to their visitor.  Jasmine liked Phil Brigham very much.  She likened him to Achmed and her father and she began to moan.  Phil increased his thrusting and Sylvia increased her rubbing of Jasmine’s private parts, not hesitating to rub Phil’s growing penis to make it harder and longer.  Phil exploded.  Jasmine exploded and so did Sylvia.  Phil was thrusting hard and jasmine was responding still and climaxed many times.  Sylvia murmured, “My turn, Phil, my boy.  You owe me big time for all the things I do for you!”  Phil smiled sheepishly and slowly pulled his member out of Jasmine, who really understood it all.  Phil lay on his back and Jasmine and Sylvia stroked his manhood until it pointed skyward exultantly.  Sylvia straddled Phil and got him in her honey pot, all the way, with Jasmine’s guiding hand.  Sylvia moaned and exploded as she thrust on top of her lover, Phil.  Phil held on and Sylvia had multiple orgasms as Jasmine rubbed her derriere and her clitoris, while big Phil was deep inside her.  Jasmine got on her knees and straddled Phil’s handsome head and lowered all her private parts down to his mouth and tongue.  Phil knew what to do and Jasmine started climaxing again to match the spasms that were felt by Sylvia.  Adele Itara heard the moaning and she arose to find the trio in the throes of ecstasy.  She woke her husband, Barack.  Both of the Itaras watched a while and were aroused.  They shrugged their shoulders and said to each other, “Why not?”  They let their robes fall off and jumped into the Brigham bed.

By breakfast time, there were seven adults in the Brigham bed.  An alien from outer space would have seen a single body with seven heads, fourteen arms, six breasts, 140 toes and seven sets of buttocks, all glistening and grunting and always moving in a single rhythm, like a beating heart.  Jasmine, Adele and Sylvia were centre stage; the engineering quite creative Phil, Moamar, Barack and Aladdin sought out orifices and would plug them amourously and repeatedly and with variety in combinations and permutations that were quite imaginative.  Slithering and massaging were the prime mode of the movements of the body parts.  Moaning was a constant hum, pierced so frequently by gasps and squeals of pure delight.

The fully uniformed US Air Force Guards stayed dressed, judiciously, and took some souvenir photographs to supplement the films which automatically recorded everything.  Phil and our Barack commanded them to get undressed and join them on the bed.  They were forced to follow orders and did add some re-enforcements to the apparent single body of fun-lovers.  The invisible aliens were writing and dictating quickly to create reports for their superiors awaiting them in their invisible space ships.  They filmed a lot of it because they knew that this was unbelievable and never seen before by aliens who had a lot to learn about Humanity.

At the bell for breakfast, the mass of bodies on the Brigham’s bed reluctantly disengaged and filed into the Turkish Bath, right down the hall.  There were about some twenty younger staff that helped them bath and just relax.  There was no question of the end result.  Ten younger men and ten younger women were induced to join them nakedly for some further re-enforcements to the revelry of this night’s joviality.  The aliens used up all their tapes and steno pads and memory sticks for their cameras, all invisible, of course.  They were beamed up on schedule just before another round of climaxes that would have made them wonder what Humanity was up to.  As it was, they had no clue and would have to study hours of film to come to some inane conclusion that the Human Race was quite disorganized and quite chaotic at the level of their leadership, but quite restricted for the ordinary hordes, which numbered now over six billion, strong.  They did however note that at the poorest levels of society, behaviour was akin to that observed at these high levels.  There were those episodes where more than three or four single bodies merged just like they did this morning on the Presidential Bed and later in the Turkish Bath.  The aliens were fascinated by the throbbing mass that would eventuate that sometimes lasted half a day.

Breakfast time was quiet as the huge participating throng got dressed and acted formally to sit and eat a feast of food-stuffs from around the world.  The aliens duly noted that all of them, the rulers and the servants, smiled a lot and sheepishly responded to some silly jokes and some meaningful, and meaningless, communications.  By lunch, the bunch of them remained completely dressed and went about their business quietly and often surreptitiously.  They found on some occasions that some naked coupling did occur in closets and secluded nooks and crannies of Camp David, as it did in other buildings on the Earth.  The aliens just shrugged their shoulders and concluded that the chaos sometimes seen was necessary for the procreation and the artistic re-creation on the Planet.

Barack and his Adele approached the siblings of Bagdad.  They proposed that they might have asylum in America until the Bagdad mess is sorted out.  They knew of several very wealthy families that would be happy to protect them in disguise.  They also offered funds to straighten everything out peacefully.  Phil and Brenda Fites were chosen to make the bin Mohammeds to feel right at home in luxury.  Their Seattle Castle-like abode was perfect for seclusion and protection.  Phil and Brenda Fites were often out of town but had a huge live-in household staff which doubled as security people as well as cooks and cleaners, launderers and gardeners.  The Brighams did agree with the Itaras. The Fites’ Estate would be a perfect temporary, American asylum for the siblings of Bagdad.

SECTION III:

At Phil’s and Brenda’s fortress in Seattle, Jasmine, Moamar and her Aladdin felt safe and well.  Phil and Brenda greeted all of them and then flew off to South Africa where many charitable activities they sponsored were ongoing.  Jasmine’s room was in between her brother’s and had doors which would allow them access to each other’s rooms, without going into the big halls.  The views of Puget Sound they all found wonderful as was the hospitality of the Fites’ huge staff.  They were getting quite accustomed to the cameras and listening bugs, accepting them as “normal” aspects of their present lives.

The Brighams came to visit them and told the siblings the bad news.  A suicide whole fleet of taxicabs had blown up both their mansions and their factories.  The siblings were quite worried since a great deal of their staff were friends of theirs.  The loss of life was quite significant.  The innocents were again the victims of some maniac’s evil machinations.  Tragically, the day care centres that they fostered were destroyed during the day which meant the children all were murdered.  Jasmine made a gruesome list of relatives who were survivors and she planned to compensate them generously through her insurance divisions of her siblings’ companies and their private funds.  Luckily, the bin Mohammedans were well insured and moneys would be coming in for compensation and a fund for massive rebuilding, if they chose.

Phil and Sylvie Brigham were quite sympathetic while also being good financial experts.  The five of them sat down before their dinner and planned out the moves that the bin Mohammeds could be making.  The plans were satisfactory to all the siblings and involved the building of Bin Mohammed Industries in the State of Washington, perhaps in Seattle or Tacoma next to Puget Sound.  The siblings had deep pockets plus the Brigham’s re-assured them that there would be funds available from wealthy democrats who would want the group from Bagdad to succeed.  In fact, Sylvie made a strong suggestion that the company offer public sales of several kinds of stocks and bonds and options to increase their working capital and thus allow many ordinary Americans to participate in profits for the future.  Moamar and Aladdin, with their strong legal backgrounds were enthusiastic.  Jasmine was ecstatic.

Temporarily, the siblings made their headquarters at the Fites.  It was ideal.  The room was spacious and the computer facilities were outstanding.  Their hosts were generous and built them a specially secured system with the latest Windows programing and the best that internet could offer.  The Fites themselves had offered over a million US dollars to be in on the initial offering of Bin Mohammed Industries, or BMIB on the NASDAQ stock exchange.  The IP was at a low $12.OO USD and immediately jumped to $22.22 when news leaked out that Fites had strongly invested.  It peaked at $33.33 in one whole month and then it did correct to $25.23 at the end of the month.  The trend was upwards at a steep incline and reached $96.78 at years end to fetch the charter investors a handsome profit for the year.  The next correction brought the stock to $65.29 and then it started rising once more but slower toward $150.  It made a very large head and shoulders which was the profit taking for the fiscal year in June and then corrected back to $102.88.  The siblings, Fites and Brighams were delighted and so was President Itara and his wife Adele.

A sniper picked off Moamar when he was walking by the Sound.  The news was detrimental to the stock price but it recovered in a year to reach $254.89 at fiscal June.  Jasmine was so concerned, she took Itara’s offer of the US Air Force Guards.  Phil Fites and his wife Brenda were also pleased because the mansion was so vulnerable from the Sound and from the air.  The proximity of Mt. Ste. Helena also posed a threat for terrorists to hide and possible explode a charge which would excite the sub-continental tectonic plates.  The two remaining siblings moved their operations back to Camp David, temporarily, until another plan was conceived.  They had feared another sniper so a funeral for Moamar was not made public.  Jasmine’s heart was broken for the lose of yet another sibling to some enemy that was not yet so visible.  Homeland security and Brigham had not yet found the mystery cruel enemy of the bin Mohammeds.  The secret service doubled all its efforts to protect Jasmine and her Aladdin from another assassination plan.

To no avail…  Aladdin was the victim of a “freak” railroad accident as he was travelling on the Amtrak from Camp David to New York to make a deal with some very wealthy New York Democrats and Republicans including a young Rockefeller, a famous female Hilton and Mayor Bloomberg’s financial cartel.  The first class railroad car on which Aladdin was enjoying lunch was suddenly derailed by stuff that was placed upon the track.  Investigations showed that these were simple coins, the kind that children leave on all the tracks to flatten them and make them into pendants.  No evidence of terrorism was suspected except it was suspicious that it targeted the very train car that Aladdin was eating lunch on.  Forty-three people, men women and children, lost their lives as the train cars sandwiched each other without letting passengers escape.  No one came forward to take credit for the carnage.  The internet was strangely non-committal with regard to possible terrorism.  The media was reluctant to whip up suspicions because rail travel was already so infrequent.  Besides, Itara had big plans to build some infrastructure and make jobs for millions with some high speed railroads like the ones in Europe and the Orient between say Washington, DC, and New York, NY, as well as Chicago, IL, and Atlanta, GA, and San Diego, CA, to Vancouver, BC, in Canada, which might link up with the Canadian VIA system and the American Amtrak projects, already operating.

Jasmine felt a deep depression and decided to obtain some psychiatric help..  Sylvie and Adele were helpful as they pointed out that grieving for a loved one was quite normal and normally it takes 11 months to recover fully.  She saw a shrink who confirmed the theories put forth by Adele and Sylvie and said it was rarely necessary to administer antidepressants or relaxants.  He recommended active mourning to relieve her pain, for now she was the last remaining bin Mohammed and felt it as a heavy burden for survival of her family’s name and spirit for the future.  In the frequent company of Sylvie and Adele, she recovered gradually to attain again the functionality that was required for being sole proprietor of her families concerns.  She missed her brothers strongly, as she’d missed her dad.  No more were there the loving brothers who could comfort her inside and out.  No more was there the security of knowing that a handsome brother was at hand to take her hand and anything that she would give to him for love and comfort.  She took advantage of Phil’s great generosity with his own body and his wife’s acceptance of her husband’s greatest helpfulness.  For an interlude of one whole month she moved into their wonderful NY condo and enjoyed the comforts of their bed and bodies.  Sometimes Elsie and her fiancée would drop in and have fun with all of them.  They had winning spirits, just like Phil, and just like Sylvie had predicted.  The interlude was helpful in getting Jasmine through the “wall,” the difficulty well described by cancer doctors who take care of patients and their families that need to make a peace with their impending deaths.

The stock of BMIB had levelled off at about $250 for a year of sideways movement.  A strong top seemed to be developing in BMIB as well as IBM, AAPL, GOOG, GM, and MSFT, XRX, AA and TOY.  Only ABX, SIL, UUU and WJA were making what looked like solid bottoms.  The experts were predicting a significant crash, or huge corrections, for the market which they felt were overbought.  Investors seemed to heed this warning and took their profits and held their cash until further developments occurred.  The insiders were certain that this was only a sideways correction in an otherwise strong bull market so they bought on weakness, wisely.  The insiders were right.  The market paused for several weeks but surged towards new highs within the next two quarters.  Then the insiders sold to take their profits.  The stock chart formations were a definite indication that the major market trend was south.  Jasmine knew enough to follow inside information as she judged it by the volume and the trends on her own semi-logarithmic stock charts.  She made a lot of money for her personal large coffers and a lot of money for BMIB and its stockholders.  She traded options with intelligence and the good luck from feeling confident about the markets and the individual stock trends.

SECTION IV:

Phil Brigham was attentive to our Jasmine but was sensitive to Sylvie’s need to be the number one main squeeze of her own special man.  Despite all evidence that pointed to some problems with his marriage, Phil was fully cognizant about his Sylvie’s needs to be a winner. Slyly, Phil did introduce Jasmine to Robert Roberts, of the J. P. Morgan Office in downtown Washington, DC.  Roberts was divorced and had two twin boys to which he had constant access by agreement with his ex-wife.  He was tall and handsome and looked quite like Humphrey Bogart and even talked like him.  He was some ten years Jasmine’s senior but it didn’t seem to cramp their respective styles.  They hit it off, immediately, and they started fantasizing, instantly.  Jasmine acted shy, to no avail.  Roberts was intuitive and quickly centred on Jasmines strong spirit for tremendous physicality in love-making and she apparently found him the same, as she had read his mind as openly as he read hers.  They didn’t wait for three traditional dates to strip down to their altogethers and attack each other, artfully.  They fit together very well and fell in love quite quickly.  They both adored their stunning looks and stunning private parts and stunning personalities, which were quite open to adventure, serendipity and curiosity, as well as creativity and inside knowledge of the way things were put together.

For the first time ever, Jasmine was impregnated, possibly on the first occasion that they did the dirty, vertical and horizontal mambo.  She checked it out with Adele and Sylvie and they did their mock examination of her private parts, inside and out, and pronounced her truly nailed by Roberts.  Two weeks later, she was confirmed as pregnant by the tests done by the White House Gynecologist and Obstetrician, who was kept quite busy by the ever fucking staff despite the warnings by their bosses, the Itara’s of the Oval Office, who heeded not their own strong warnings.  Adele and Sylvie started giggling with their Jasmine, as they told their funny stories of their own early pregnancies.  Phil played doctor several times to get a good look at the growing pulchritude of Jasmine and to partake in some nice explorations of the changes that occurred.  Roberts joined them, frequently, and altogether went for Jasmine to assure her that because she was so pregnant was no excuse for leaving all her private parts alone.  In fact, there wasn’t any hour that passed that someone close to her would fondle Jasmine and ensure that she was feeling warm and fuzzy, even quite orgasmic, if the truth be known.  Her hormones had induced the wonderful alterations that both men and women liked to find out more about.  And Jasmine was as curious as anybody.  If there was no one around to pull her chain, she pulled it by herself and found it quite delightful.  Roberts was her best bet to achieve a climax while Phil and Sylvie and Adele were adept at everything as well, but not as swift as Roberts was.

Jasmine and her man Robert were betrothed and married with a double ceremony, one in Babylonian Arabic and one in Roman Catholic Latin.  In spirit, all the bin Mohammedans were there.  Phil Brigham was the Emcee at the reception at the White House West Wing.  Billy Graham’s son presided for the Roman Catholic Christian part and a Professor of Mid-eastern studies, at the Naval Academy in Bethesda, MD, did the Babylonian Muslim part.  Jasmine was about an hundred pounds heavier than usual and twins had been found on the ultrasounds.  During the wedding ceremonies, her waters broke and the OB-GYNE specialists of the White House delivered triplet to her and Robert, all identical females who looked immediately quite beautiful.

Bliss and happiness were never greater for this long suffering woman who had seen her brothers die before their time.  She looked so wonderful just every time whether pregnant huge or non-pregnant svelte.  She looked as spectacularly beautiful whether dressed or not, or whether dark or light, or whether winter, spring, summer or fall.  She was always full of energy and full of the spirit of her parents who were consistently inspiring.  No other pregnancies occurred.  Certainly, three female children were a handful and she could have felt it was enough.  Roberts reported to her and to everyone that her inner private parts and her outer private parts had beautifully returned to their pre-pregnant gorgeous state.  Roberts liked to parade her proudly at all social and business functions.  She and he would have preferred that they do it in the nude but they thought better of it unless it was a small, private party with the Brighams or the Itaras.

Remarkably, Jasmine retained control of BMIB.  The stock had held its own on the NASDEQ and the bonds and options were preferred by inside traders in the bond markets and the CBOE.  The original stock price would have been over $600 but well-timed stock splits had brought the price down to a more convenient $50 range.  This allowed more small investors to participate.  Two strong hostile take-over bids were thwarted by Jasmine who held out for much higher prices that anyone could afford by using private funds to buy ferociously and drive the stock price higher than expected.  The attackers were quite secretive and handled offers through the brokers who were not obligated to reveal their customer’s identity.  Roberts tried seriously and surreptitiously to discover who they were, to no avail.  Apparently, the secrecy was quite secure and must have been a strong part of the whole agreement.

SECTION V:

It was Xi Xen Chu originally who was behind the attempts to grab the Bin Mohammed Industry of Bagdad from its owners.  Xi had been the one that made the deal with Wal-Mart to move into China.  Xi was so enormously wealthy that he had much trouble finding suitable investments in his own or other countries.  The government of China was reluctant to have him spend his money outside of China.  Chu was a psychopath and had no qualms about killing to achieve his ends.  He’d hired about a hundred agents who were chosen for their ruthlessness quite reminiscent of the SS troops in Germany, in WWII.  He’d admired the movies from England and America which showed clandestine groups of spies, like Shmersh, who were allowed to carry guns and gun down other spies without remorse.  His background as a Mongol gave him genetics which when combined with sociopathic personalities bred leaders who were unremorseful when they killed or rendered useless large numbers of people, just like CEO’s who make decisions to reduce their employee numbers to make a lot of money for themselves and for their stockholders.  It was Chu who spotted the fine company of bin Mohammed Industries and who plotted to just take it from its sibling owners.

Chu could see that Jasmine was the spiritual and genius leader of what became BMIB.  He had the devilish notion that mysterious assaults on her three brothers would be sweeter than a direct assassination of Jasmine, herself.  In essence he was watching too many movies that involved romantic notions of the vicious infrastructure of most wealthy businesses.  He hadn’t seen that Jasmine was a favourite of some very powerful agencies and people in the democratic countries of the world, especially America.  The ease with which he’d gained compete control of operations of the humongous Wal-Mart, without his visibility had made him confident enough to try to just take the bin Mohammeds and chew them up.  His attempts at imitating movie plots were quite unsuccessful, but he was persistent with an ego bigger than a breadbox and stubbornness as big as Texas and Alaska.  Chu miscalculated that the sexual bizarreness would lead to her undoing but apparently Americans were quite tolerant of sexual misconduct in the rich and powerful societal environment in higher places.

Finally, Chu decided he must hit Jasmine with a tragedy that she could not withstand.  His agents had her whereabouts continually monitored and he could see how much she valued her offspring and the great relationship with Robert Roberts.  Of course, he didn’t want himself linked to any murderous plot or any act of terrorism.  He hatched his final plan in Tokyo, vacationing in the Grand Imperial Hotel, downtown.  He liked the Geisha Girls and all the gentle refinements of their services.  He contacted his psychopathic operatives in Washington, DC.  He wanted all three triplets kidnapped, held for ransom and then killed.  He telegraphed a cheque for $500,000 USD to each of three of his most trusted agents and promised another cheque for the same amount to the operative that would do the dirty job quickly and efficiently.

Three US Air Force Guards were killed by those three operatives without completing their assignment.  In fact, the three were killed immediately in retaliation.  Police reported only accidental deaths of three US Air Force Guards who had surprised three thieves in a daytime robbery.  They also reported that a SWAT Team had been on the spot to halt the robbers in the act of robbing a large Japanese Antique Jewelry Store in the Embassy Section of Washington, DC.  Chu was furious.  The loss of 1.5 really big ones was not a problem for this wealthy maniac, but his ego was deflated and he wanted revenge so badly, he could taste it.  Chu was already a business man of interest because of other underhanded practices.  When he was spotted in America, a red alert was issued for his apprehension and detainment.  He had entered USA by way of Montreal and come south by Amtrak trains, presumably in an effective disguise, because he wasn’t picked up at the border by Homeland Security Agents.  Some investigative work discovered that he’d used a Japanese forged passport that he’d purchased in Tokyo.  Jasmine agreed to having a Homeland Security woman pose as her and her three children who were actually midgets fully trained in guerrilla warfare.   Another trap was set in one of Washington, DC’s surreptitious Geisha Houses associated with the giant Hilton Hotel right next to the Embassy area of the city.  A Poetry Convention was ongoing at the Hilton featuring the Poet Laureates of the USA, past and present.  Antonio Benedetto and the Modernaires were the featured artists at the awards dinner which was scheduled for Sunday evening.

Jasmine cleared it privately with Phil and Sylvie Brigham.  She wanted to settle an old sore score with this Chinese business maniac and she knew just how she wanted to do it.  She used her own personal cache of gold to finance her own operation, making sure that Chu and only Chu would be eliminated, once and for all.  Homeland Security Operatives were very dense in the city of Washington, DC.  The doppelgängers for Jasmine and her three triplet girls were lurking at the park near the white house.  Her own children were safely sequestered under the guidance of Adele Itara and her three teenage girls at Camp David.  Jasmine paid the Geisha House to hire her as a special treat for any visitor who liked tall dark half-breed Japanese women, with large breasts and derrieres.  The other Geishas were paid generously to take a two week vacation from the House within the grounds of the Hilton DC Washington.  An unofficial rumour of a million dollar bounty from Jasmine abounded in the security guards placed all over the city.  No sightings had yet been made.  It was probable that Chu was disguised and would be hard to spot.  His psychopathic personality was legendary amongst security forces all over the world.  He was highly intelligent and highly dangerous.

In fact, Chu had very cleverly disguised himself as a fashionable Chinese woman, apparently in Washington, seeing the sites and spending her husband’s hard-earned money.  He played the part well, ready to flash his forged passport and credit cards for all to see.  He had taken on the name Tan Ti Xi.  None of the clerks at the boutiques and hotels in which he stayed was suspicious.  His disguise was perfect.  In fact, he was staying at the Hilton and had registered as a participant in the Fourth Biennial International Poetry Competition of the American Poetry Association.  His entry, for which he’d already received a bronze medallion and a crystal trophy, was a Haiku that had a chance to win one of the top prizes in the short poetry section.  The Haiku was printed and posted on the semi-finalists board and was as follows:

SHORT POETRY DIVISION

SEMI-FINALIST ENTRY

HAIKU OF THE GODS

The sun and mountains

Frame the spirit of the men

Who glorify Thor

By Tan Ti Xi

© China, Beijing

Chu as Xi inquired if ladies were taken by the Geisha House.  The clerk referred him to the Geisha House reception where he was told a special Geisha had been hired from Singapore.  She was tall and dark and had mixed Japanese and Middle Eastern Jewish blood.  Chu acted hesitantly and finally said, “Of course!  It sounds very interesting.”  Later in his room, he looked up tall and dark Geishas and found the phoney website that had been set up by Sylvia Brigham at Jasmine’s direction and requests.  As always, Chu was most suspicious of everything while he seemed satisfied that this unusual Geisha Girl was genuine.  Certainly he liked the nude photograph of Jasmine’s body.  Her make-up was very thick and the lines off the corners of the eyes gave a strong impression of oriental eyes.  Jasmine also used a lot of body make-up to cover up her pregnancy induced striae on her breasts and belly that might have reminded Chu about her body as he had seen her in the films showing incestuous sexual behaviour with her brothers, who were still alive at the time.  The touch about the Jewishness might have intrigued Chu.

Later that evening Chu returned to the Geisha reception area and asked if the new woman, Keninehora Kakamoto, “KK,” would be available to come to his room.  He had one of the presidential suites on the top floor which had a Jacuzzi and a message table and a mat for Yoga.  The receptionist demurely stated that Ms. Kakamoto was indeed available for all night consultations, in the presidential suite, for $10,000 USD, cash or gold equivalent.  Chu, as Tan, paid with an American Express Platinum credit card and took the receipts.  The arrangement was for after the awards ceremony and had a guaranteed full eight hours with KK.

Jasmine as Keninehora was put off by having to service a Chinese woman while she was waiting for Chu to show up.  ``Oh well, my dear self.  You`ve serviced other women before, including very famous women.  I`ll just take it as a bonus for my revenge, when Chu shows up, if he ever does.  He must be a better agent than the three that he sent after me and the three that killed my brothers.  Allah Bless my precious brothers up in Heaven!  Bless them and keep them safe until I join them!”  The woman did not undress.  Instead she said, “Miss. Keninehora Kakamoto?  I gave the clerk my credit card for 10,000 big ones.  Are you available right now to spend the evening in my room?  We’ll have an oversized Jacuzzi and any leathers that you may require.  I was told that you are the best and will be worth every cent of my ten thousand American dollars!”

Jasmine as Kakamoto recognized that this blond, long-haired, middle aged woman was Chu wearing a tight black short dress with generous bra falsies that made him look somewhat attractive.  Jasmine gave it all she had.  She was stark naked in the Geisha pool and stood up to show her magnificent breasts to full advantage, so that Chu would be impressed.  She was confident of her own make-up job which made her eyes look really Japanese.  Chu Xen Xi as Tan Xi Ti, the poetess, helped Jasmine up and out and had the opportunity to check out Jasmine’s derriere and was very interested in it.  The clerk re-entered and supplied a silken robe for Jasmine so that she could cover up and accompany the lady, Tan, to her expensive Presidential Suite.  Chu and the clerk were ogling Jasmine.  Jasmine took it all in and put on her robe extremely slowly to allow the show to be impressive.

In the Presidential Suite, Chu said, “I have a great surprise for you, Ms. Keninehora.  I’m a man!”  He quickly got undressed and thus revealed   his true identity to Jasmine.  He had a huge erection which was pointing right at her.  Jasmine countered with, “I have my own surprise for you, you bastard!”  She removed a jack-knife from her vagina which had a very sharp, long blade.  She moved right in and cut Chu’s penis off.  The blood spurted everywhere.  Then she stabbed him in the heart and twisted the long blade.  More blood came spurting out and Chu dropped to his knees.  “Please, don’t kill me Keninehora,” he pleaded, but to no avail.  Jasmine screamed.  “I am Jasmine bin Mohammed and you are a dead man, Chu Xen Xi!”  She plunged the knife into his neck and almost cut his head off.  “My brothers in Heaven will be laughing now!”  She plunged the knife into his ribs and must have pierced his lungs.  Chu fell to the floor, a pool of blood enlarging rapidly.  His body convulsed in the throes of death.  Jasmine pressed a button on the knife handle.  Within five minutes, five Air Force Operatives appeared to help her as she stood naked and akimbo over her dead victim who had bleed to death.  They tore the sheets off the bed and covered her and whisked her out to safety in a SWAT Air Force Truck that was waiting outside.  The Air Force folks took care of Chu’s dead body, preparing to make it disappear in some cement foundation, nearby.

Philip and Sylvia, Adele and Elsie, greeted Jasmine at Camp David.  Her triplets were happy to see her and hugged her lovingly.  Adele and Sylvia prepared a hot bubble bath for Jasmine and helped her just relax and calm down.  Philip winked at her and gave her a thumbs up sign and said, “Well done, my dear Jasmine!  You were great!”  The Air Force Agents had briefed him in detail and he passed it along to the President, who was very pleased.

Over the next few years, Bin Mohammed Industries of Bagdad did extremely well.  Jasmine took up residence in Bethesda, Maryland.  She became a vital link with the Middle East and its important resources for the US Presidents that followed Itara in the Oval Office.  She cherished Robert Roberts and her family and made peace with all the turmoil that had befallen her and her brothers.  Jasmine became one of the wealthiest women in the world.  Her company’s stock continued to rise and have a total value of over one trillion dollars.  Her charitable contributions to the plight of hungry Mid-East Children became legendary.  In memory of her fallen brothers, she directed to be built a Hospital for Sick Children, in Bagdad, and she ensured, with a large endowment fund, that it had the best physicians and equipment available.  The Hospital was named Bin Mohammed Memorial Hospital and separate wings were named Moamar, Aladdin and Achmed.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

September 9, 2013