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Introduction:

Oleg, Exploding Butt plug maker for the Isil Caliphate
Oleg's Exploding Butt plugs for a really big bang

Oleg didn’t look much like a successful businessman or a pervert who took sadistic pleasure from other’s pain. either. He was in fact both. He wore a rather shabby white doctors coat with a screwdriver in the top pocket. His thick rimmed glasses perched on the end of his hooked nose. He just quietly and efficiently went about his business of making specialist sex toys.

Specialist designs not available elsewhere. Dildoes and Butt plugs for amateur smugglers. False breasts and Crack filled Breast implants for the advanced smugglers, Even false Baby Bumps for shoplifters.

But the real profit was in the Arab market. Jihad. Something for that unforgettable bang.

Exploding butt plugs. Exploding dildoes. He especially liked the exploding dildoes. They had to be quite large or so he told his customers. They needed 3 x C cell batteries for the radio, so they had to be quite big round. This meant ladies had to practice before using them. Unless they were sluts.

Oleg paid sluts to test his dildoes. He checked the small ads for prossies willing to put on a show. Lesbians were best. Someone who liked a fist up her cunt, and ass. He loved to watch them wanking themselves, easing two, three, four fingers up and then their own small fist before they eased the big black plastic bomb between their pussy lips. He only tested dummy dildoes, he had a buzzer connected instead of the detonator and made sure the dildo buzzed when he dialled the correct mobile phone numbers in the correct sequence.

It was important to check every dildo bomb casing before it was filled with semtex. It needed to be smooth. It must not chafe but it needed to stay in when the woman walked around. Some times a pair of latex pants would hold a dildo in but then the woman would not be able to walk normally, sexily.

Oleg always said a girl should be able to walk into Miss Selfies with men wolf whistling, do a twirl and then blow the lot of them to dust.

His dildoes were dolphin shaped. Thicker in the middle. Streamlined at the ends. Designed to stay in. Quite often he would test a new design by taking a girl on a bus trip to town with both a dildo and butt plugs up inside her. Sometimes just the shell. Sometimes with a dummy filling.

Oleg’s favourite was a special version which shot a stream of body heat fluid instead of exploding. Sluts liked these. He liked setting them off when the girl least expected it. On a pedestrian crossing. At a Supermarket check out. He loved watching the girls as they desperately tried to resist rubbing their clits as the fluids squirted. He also loved their embarrassment as the fluid inevitably leaked out if them as if they had wet themselves.

The Lady Butt plug was simple, just the biggest shell the lady could actually get up her ass. A hollow shell which could be filled with heroin, gold, a mobile phone or flick knife or semtex. The Arabs bought them filled with semtex with a detonator set to explode when the dildo next to it exploded. That’s why Oleg only made big ones, so some innocent young girl wouldn’t be forced to use one. At least not without a lot of practice and a lot of pain.

Some plugs had a big flange to stop them going in too far. Some were barrel shaped. Each was designed so the user could appear completely normal and relaxed until she exploded.

Once he got exploding and non exploding versions mixed up. He meant to give his girlfriend an orgasm in Freshco in Maitland street. Unfortunately he had miss labelled a semtex filled live bomb as a squirter. More unfortunately she was standing by the paint rack when seven pounds of semtex ripped her apart. This sent a fireball rushing through the store.

Luckily the CCTV was not working. The fire brigade blamed a gas leak. Oleg was quite upset at the time but as he admitted to himself the relationship was going nowhere and he had planned to dump her. Oleg gave up on girlfriends and concentrated on paying sluts after that.

The Gentleman’s Butt plug was an entirely different animal. It was based on a short necked wine bottle and required a considerable degree of persistence to ease one into position.

Oleg was educated at an English Public school. He knew more than enough about Homosexuality. Buggers as the boys called it. Every Saturday evening after lights out. Even now ten years later Oleg still had nightmares about it.

He loved to watch grown men oiling up their ass holes before they tried to force a 100 mm diameter glass bottle up their backsides. Oleg filmed them. Secretly. He played back the video when he felt depressed and soon tears of laughter ran down his cheeks. He had many hours of video which he sold through a specialist agency. The ISIL collection. On one occasion a bottle broke and the man had to go to Sheffield Royal Infirmary with broken glass up his ass. Oleg laughed so much when the Ambulance had gone that he thought he would have a seizure.

There was also a curved plastic Butt plug, 100 mm diameter and 400 mm long. It was almost guaranteed to do a serious injury but curiously they sold very well on Ebay, the squirting version that is. The explosive variant was only available to personal contacts.

He also did semtex breast implants, though a bomber would have to be seriously deranged to want any. The semtex padded bra and semtex baby bump were more practical but more easily spotted. However there was a certain irony with a bearded Arab with 38DD semtex breast implants wearing a Burkah trying to blend in in a crowd.

Oleg did alright financially. Money did not interest him. Power did not interest him. He wanted a quiet life. He loved music. Classical Music. Pop Music, anything except Bagpipes.

And Models, he loved models, Radio control boats and Drones with cameras mainly, people often forgot to draw the curtains in tower bocks. He was at once a nasty piece of work and also a boring little tit really. For a mass murderer.

He moulded the toys in a vintge 5 injection moulding machine which he bought at auction for ten pounds when Arkwrights in Hannibal street closed down. It was pretty worn out so his first plan to make statues of the Queen for Jubilee day was a non starter.

One day he needed some bits for his model boat and found his local Toymaster had become a sex shop. He looked at the dildoes and butt plugs and thought, ‘I can knock some of them out at a quarter that price.’ He promptly bought half a dozen as patterns to the young lady shop assistant’s amusement.

Oleg quickly made a batch of dildoes, changing the shape slightly to avoid copyright and had sold three on Salford indoor market before he was arrested for outraging public decency.

After that he stuck to Ebay but started getting complaints. One woman even sent a video explaining the dildo was a sod to push up but slipped straight back out.

Oleg sold almost 1000 copies of the video at £10 each, netting over £7500 after pay rip-off had their cut before some cunt put it on Tiava for free.

Oleg operated as G. Hardy supplies (Rochdale) Ltd from a shed at the bottom of his garden. His tax affairs were in order. He had the proper planning consent for his business and he even had a license to own and produce fire arms.

For Oleg had a contract with GCHQ. The government snooping centre at Cheltenham. Every explosive Butt Plug and dildo he made had its own individual GPS transmitter. Temperature sensing it activated as soon as it reached 36 degrees centigrade. Maybe a minute after someone shoved it up inside themselves. It was built into the detonator receiver which also was deactivated until it reached 36 degrees.

You might think Oleg was a cold hearted murderous bastard but in fact his parents were lawfully married even before he was born.

For several years Oleg drove to Sheffield each Thursday evening to pick up a slut. He would take them to the Premier Inn by the M1 and have them fist themselves. He loved to watch them struggle. He always took a rubber sheet and plenty of lube.

The old ones were the best, he wanted someone who could take the dildoes easily but not too easily. The teenagers were generally too tight, but on the other hand they fucked better.

Oleg never had problems, he used a rubber, was polite and paid well, but really he needed consistency. Someone who could test his output as he made it. A reliable fucking assistant. He had to be careful, the woman could not be allowed to know about the explosives. Eventually following an unfortunate mis understanding, GCHQ had arranged for one of their experienced field operatives to assist him.

Miss Jones was a silver haired dragon with a cunt like a cement mixer. Every Thursday evening she met Oleg outside the Dog and Duck in Rotherham and he took her home to test the week’s production. She was an ideal tester as for for many years she had combined a day job as an switchboard operator at the British Consulate in Cairo with an evening job working in a brothel. On several occasions she had allegedly broken the neck of an Arab who was screwing her. She liked to wait until he started to cum so he died with a smile on his face.

Oleg didn’t mind, though her cunt was so slack it was a bit like fucking a beer barrel so he still picked up sluts when he needed to.

Orders came from several sources, various branches of ISIL, Southend Air Services (SAS) and some private individuals.

Most of Olegs toys were never used but some were with quite spectacular results.

One of the more interesting dildoes was 12/01/12-BES2-2. It was a the second big black exploding dildo made on 12 January 2012. It was filled with 2 kg of Semtex and had been tested and approved by Miss Jones.

Part of a batch ordered by ISIL (West Bromwich) it was activated just south of Newport Pagnell at 22.35 hrs on13th February 2013 and exploded almost immediately. Oleg had inadvertently soldered the blue activation wires to the B (normally live) terminal on the switch instead of the C (normally dead) terminal.

The explosion triggered a chain reaction exploding several other explosive devices in a box in the boot. This blew the Toyota Avensis in half spreading Miss Fatima Ajima across both carriageways of the M1. Her accomplices were also thrown from the vehicle which stopped blocking all three southbound lanes of the main London to Birmingham Motorway.

However Oleg was personally involved with 12/01/19-BES2-1.

This was one of a batch he took to Ilkley Miners Institute to demonstrate to buyers from ISIL (Koln) who wanted an alternative to explosive vests. Oleg took the full range, Baby Bumb, false tits, standard explosive vests in three weights, seven butt plugs, six plastic and the glass one and four dildoes.

Twenty seven ISIL members sat round while Oleg explained how the various devices worked. He used a mannequin to demonstrate how they fitted the human body.

“So show us!” someone said, “Use the slut!”

A scared looking young woman was propelled forward, “You ready to die for Islam?” Oleg asked.

“No way weirdo,” she said in a Scouse accent, “I just need the cash.”

Oleg carefully peeled the girls pants down and raised her skirt. She shook gently. She was terrified. She mewed as Oleg parted her cunt lips with his thumb. He lubed the streamlined end of 12/01/19-BES2-1 and gently eased in into her cunt. It took a while, he pushed, then relaxed and pushed again. Normally he would have fucked her first like he did with Miss Jones.

Oleg found spunk was the best lubricant, at least that’s what he told Miss Jones. Miss Jones didn't argue as she wanted a kid before she got too old and lied that she was on the pill.

Oleg had no idea of the girl’s name, he simply fucked her with a semtex filled dildo until she got really excited and then he lubed up the butt plug with her cunt juice and put it on a chair.

“Sit yourself down love,” he suggested.

The anonymous girl sat on the butt plug. “Wriggle your ass love,” he whispered. Gradually the plug eased inside her.

“Try the vests and tits while you’re waiting,” Oleg suggested.

The girl squirmed easing the plug further inside her until with a plop the widest part was past and it popped into place.

“Pull your knickers up and walk about,” Oleg suggested.

The girl waddled like a pregnant duck.

“You might try you dopy bitch,” Oleg suggested.

“Oi wanker, shut it,” she replied pleasantly.

“For fuck’s sake!” Oleg replied, “I thought you said you had a well worn slut?”

“You said no one will know she has bomb inside,” an ISIL official countered.

The Institute was an old boiler house at Ilkley Main Colliery. It was built like a brick shit house but stronger. The walls were four feet thick. Back in the 1960s it had been converted to a social room when they had an electric winding engine installed. Now it remained as the only building in a wasteland where even the slag heaps had been levelled.

Oleg had his boxes in the back room, the kitchen, a four foot thick wall away from the main hall, “You come with me!” he ordered and he hustled the girl through the door.

He grabbed her crotch. She squealed. He groped wildly for the slippery black monster which he then tugged from her cunt.

“Aw!” she wailed.

Oleg twisted the end cap, the battery fell out and then he grabbed his bag, he pressed four buttons on a key pad and the world exploded.

He could not hear or see, he thought he was dead.

He felt something. Something warm. A girl. Her tears fell wetly on his face. “Its OK.” he said but he heard nothing.

Then the ringing in his ears diminished. The girl was sobbing, everything was covered with dust. A light bulb glowed faintly through the dust laden atmosphere.

Everything was quiet.

“What happened?” the girl shouted.

“Thunder,” Oleg laughed.

Part of the ceiling had collapsed. As the dust settled they saw the kitchen door was off its hinges. The big refrigerator had been knocked sideways and leaned drunkenly against a sink unit. Water poured from a ruptured pipe.

Oleg picked up his bag. “Time to go.”he said looking for a way out.

The window over the sink still had some glass left in it so Oleg smashed out what was left and they climbed out.

“You OK?” someone asked from the shadows.

“Headache,” Oleg said.

The girl just sobbed, “Look after her,” Oleg asked.

“No, you take her home, we’ll clear up here,” the shadowy figure insisted.

Oleg never saw the remains of twenty seven ISIL fighters spread like strawberry jam around the old Institute building. He wasn’t interested.

Nobody said thank you, he didn’t even get paid for the dildoes and vests which blew up.

He just found an extra £ 270 000 in his Swiss Bank account next time he checked.

And he had the satisfaction of a job well done. And a girl who’se life he had saved.

She thanked him. She thanked him several times. She really showed him how grateful she was when he stopped at his house to let her get cleaned up. She let him fuck her bareback. No one except her dad and Uncle John fucked her bareback. But she trusted Oleg.

And Oleg trusted her, when he found she was an illegal immigrant. She worked for him and lived with him and tested all hs products and prepared his meals and fucked when ever he wanted to and he didn’t have to pay her.

Pretty soon she started having kids.

Not all fairy tales have a happy ending
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