Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu looked out over the gathered members of Congress today. "You are my harem," the Israeli leader said, "and I am your sultan. I could pluck any one of you out and bring back to my tent, adorn you in silk, and ask you if you're grateful that you get the privilege to suck the sultan's cock. You, there, Senator Tom Cotton, part your lips and smoke the cream pipe of paradise. Darrell Issa, your tongue looks ready to wash the leathery folds of the sultan's orb sack. Don't crowd, my concubines. I will bless each of you when my jism geyser is ready to erupt. Each of you will receive the gift of the sultan's pearls on your faces."
The concubines were joyous, especially because the sultan would be showing that foul Moor who presumed to lead them the proper way to take care of a harem. "The sultan thinks we're special," declared the oldest, scabbiest concubine. "I hope he is most pleased with how we pleasure him."
"Indeed," declared the filthiest concubine, "if only he would stay longer so we may enjoy his effulgence in our mouths, in our anuses, all over us."
Many of the concubines nodded. One of the younger concubines added, "I would gladly give up entire banquets just to place his sweaty man pole in my mouth one more time."
The old, scabby concubine brought them all together and offered comfort: "Do not worry. The sultan's thrusting flesh saber will always be ready whenever we wish to cross deserts and oceans to his palace. He will welcome us with open arms and raised robes, and, surely, we, each of us, knows what to do. Now let us turn around. The sultan's face is red. That means he is about to shoot forth."
The concubines pulled back their veils and opened their mouths so that a speck of the sultan's seed would strengthen them to turn their backs on their own people.