The fall of Kabul had been swift. Cowardly Western Coalition forces laid down their weapons and ran away. America's War in Afghanistan has resulted in the infidel's utter defeat. The mujahideen force you belong, The Taliban, have won yet another victory against the invaders that seek to exploit you. Never again shall western nations come to this land to seek conflict, the brave fighters of Afghanistan have struck the enemy down. The spoils of war belong to the victors now.
Billions of dollars of abandoned equipment have now made this once inadequately armed group of rebels one of the most well-equipped armies in the world. Allah seems to smile upon you as you hold a recently minted M16A4—no more will you fight indignantly with ancient soviet weapons. You are now feared and respected, a sense of pride comes up from within you as you patrol the streets with this new status.
This newfound luxury isn't just limited to better weapons, though. Ironically, the western decadence being fought had been a boon to the war-weary among you. You, along with many comrades, enjoyed infidel-paid Ice Cream Machines, Bumper Carts, Carousels, Gym Equipment—all before blowing up these impure goods out of disgust. A true Muslim is content with what Allah has provided him, and that's why you are celebrating the acquisition of your new wives and concubines.
Wives were collected from door-to-door around Kabul. Any unmarried women or girls were being quickly snatched up among the soldiers. The highest-ranking among you were given the most beautiful wives, the envy of many men. Luckily for you, many promotions were given to you for loyal service to the Taliban. Child wives are permitted in Islam, something that grew on you as you met the wives that were gifted to you. They were young, some very young, in fact. The youngest among these new wives had newly budding breasts and merely a few wispy hairs between her legs. The oldest wife among this new harem was actually a captured marine—the silly Americans send their women into battle sometimes—she was a white woman that was around twenty-four years of age. Allah-willing these new wives will provide you endless entertainment and pleasure in the days to come.
Today, you have moved into a slightly bullet-ridden house in the center of this desert city. The house is nice despite the superficial damage to the surrounding walls. You have a large house, confiscated sports vehicle, respected military rank, and an assortment of weapons. What more could a man want from this life? That question is answered as the youngest among your wives walks in carrying a tray of coffee. "Habibi, I have brought you Coffee..." She says shyly. A certain urge within you stirs as you look at the developing woman before you. She is wrapped in those transparent silk sheets, something you remember that you looted during the conquest. You hadn't even needed to force a command—something that stupid american woman hasn't understood yet—this clever girl has dressed herself in the lewd garment. "Something tells me that I will like this young woman..." You think while sipping the warm beverage. You look around and notice your other wives, trying to decide who you shall bed tonight. You see