'Look at this filth,' he said. 'All your stories are about Muslim women getting fucked by black guys. You disgusting little whore, how dare you write such things in my house,' he continued. 'Muslim women are meant to obey their husband's, have kids and look after the house and that's it. They're not meant to try to be writers and certainly not disgusting shit like this,' he said. 'You have forgotten your culture and religion. You have dishonoured my family by writing such shit,' he finished.

He paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Salim stared at Rashida. His angry eyes did not leave for an instant. Rashida didn't dare look back at him. She continued to weep, staring at the floor as she did so. Several minutes of silence; it could have been several hours for all Rashida cared. Never had she been more terrified than she was at this present moment. There was silence between them and a tension that could be cut with a knife.

'Can I have my laptop?' she asked, almost pleadingly.

'No chance, I'm going to see what else you've been doing online before I decide what to do to you next,' he said. Salim stormed out of the kitchen and with the laptop in hand headed upstairs to the bedroom.

 

Upstairs, Salim sat down with her laptop and continued reading, disgusted by the words in front of him. Who the hell did she think she was, writing such rubbish? He checked her internet browsing history and all that came up was porn, nothing else. He clicked a few of the videos, shocked by what he was seeing. Not because he was prudish himself, just more shocked by the fact that Rashida would look at this stuff. Clearly he had failed in his duties to control his wife. She needed a severe lesson he thought.

About twenty minutes later, she heard Salim come down. She was still in the kitchen as he stormed in. She looked around for the knife...just in case.

'So you've been looking at porn and writing dirty stories,' he said. 'Got a thing for black cocks have you, noticed how you were looking at them more than others,' he said, laughing.

Rashida looked down; her dirty little secret was out. She was extremely worried though; would he use it against her? Would he tell her family? He was never shy about humiliating her publicly. Her father wasn't in the best of health and this would destroy him.

'Look, it's just fantasy, nothing more,' she said, trying to placate him.

'Sounds more than that to me, looks more like you want to try one,' he laughed.

'No I do not,' she yelled back at him.

There was a moment's pause.

'I'm sorry for all of this, I'll delete it all and you can have the laptop back, throw it away if you want, I don't care,' she said tearfully.

'No, no Rashida after all, you are a writer - he sniffed mockingly - and writers need inspiration. Leave it with me, I'll give you more inspiration than you will ever need,' he finished.