this chronicle was written based on the approximation of a referee. However the plot and descriptions are mine. it contains extremum force and cruelty. Please note that the author wishes to describe a put on world which has no connecter to any place, person or thought whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme violence, including murder and mutiliation, do n't interpret this. If you can take it, hope you enjoy it.
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The specializer
"goodness evening Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the electric chair looked up with half closed oculus, the petite torch in the room insufficient to tell his reflection. The man circling him however, did not seem to need such entropy, he had all he wanted. wellspring almost.
"What do you want ?"asked the man in the chair, getting up menacingly."How did you get in here ?"
"Wouldn't it be wiser to ask who we are ? Or do you already know ?"the well-dressed man who'd been circling the early, now stopped and asked.
"Yes I know who you are. But what do you want ?"
"Depends on whether we're satisfied with you. Suffice it to say that we've heard a lot of undecomposed matter about you, and we're print. But before we can trust you, we'd like the unit story."
"If you know so much already, I've nothing more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to have sex. Now get the fuck out of here."He took two quick stride towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a oceanic abyss mark on your wrist, Mr Rashid. Care to begin with how you got it ?"
"Some bitch bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a stray dog"he waved his curved blade casually"kindly give the inside information. And yes, you can receive a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the way for Sir Thomas More assaulter. He quickly noticed two more than blocking the doors to the step and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's instincts told him they were armed. escape cock was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to have it off quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could intrust you with the whole story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the chase Rashid"
"fine, fine. Where do I begin ? You know I'm not a native, my skin colour says as much. You would also know by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a blasted station filled with nothing but gun and moxie. And oh yes, a few dozen tribes always at each former's throats. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's birdsong it the Jamalliya tribe.
My dad was a close congener of the headman, so I'd a skillful luck of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the former family feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My mother gave me to a relative who's husband and son had been killed during a Recent foray. I never saw my female parent again. My new family consisted of two lady friend and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the girls grew curves and I developed muscle. But in these waste lands there's little time to savour family life, and men and women are generally expected to live apart and do their own study. If you excel in your work, you get a position on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your family taken away.
There's little to distinguish oneself in in those desiccate lands beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing tiddler, if you're a woman. I had potential in the former, having learnt to cod a horse by the time I was ten, and could inject from the saddle by 16. I also had a roughshod streak, they used to say. When we raided the small town of the enemy folk ( and once a foreigners'oil society role ), the men used to first vote down all grownup Male, then take the cleaning lady. By charwoman I mean any pussycat that was ten years and above. We were left with the residuum. Among them were the old charwoman and the tiddler. I developed a habit of plunging my sword into the stomach of those old men and women, hearing them riot in their cracked voices before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the school principal of my putting to death back to the Village, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and cleaning woman killed during the raid.
Now you'd say, what gloriole is there in killing old women ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs real resplendency if he's to encounter a side of mightiness in the kinship group. All the more so in my case since there were those who were determined to prevent me getting the headship. So I formed my own radical of spoiler, composed of men of my age. With them I used to bust the villages without reinforcement, sometimes being forced to unsay when matter got too hot. At other clip however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended small town who's women had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
First we would go from star sign to sign of the zodiac, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal loss leader, I didn't Order all the teenaged male child to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their endowment, made component of our mathematical group. The cleaning woman on the other hand, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their bodies having nothing to put up in return for sparing their lives. I followed the common method of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up tits, watching them implode in a bloody batch as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, golden shower erupted from between their leg.
The back group consisted of women between 30 and fifty, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but young enough to be raped. They were tied by their hired hand to the terminal, their asses either resting on the land or raised in the air. Their stage were then stretched till they touched those of the next woman ; these were then tied, forming a yearn blood line of bound women with exposed twat. Leaving two to three men in cathexis of the youngest group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to line. Each woman was unlike to be honest, and most judge to chip in their topper to persuade us to let them live. Some however, glared at us as we violated their most familiar areas. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the rape resumed again.
I could evidence you about a dozen or so cleaning woman who stood out for their especial tightness and indeed, carrying into action on my cock. Sadly a good bulk of them must receive been puritan, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 year old woman ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a woman was blinded there was fiddling use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a turn on her to try out her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd kill the quietus. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a tongue into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their gist itself and blurt out to the flavor of a dying fair sex spasming on your cock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out out some of the bloody ejaculate from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to toss off them directly, beheading them with one quick stroke of my sword. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on film have you ? Well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the clip we'd learnt to cod a gymnastic horse, so to speak. And there's something unequalled about the way her lumbering head, eyes still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big round ball placed atop a thin receptacle. If you were good enough, you could snaffle the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your former hand into the soft neck as well.
Anyway, once the second radical had been raped, and a good many killed off, the few who wanted to call for souvernirs did so, chopping off arm, heading ( if they'd gutted the womanhood ) and tits as the rest of us surveyed the most important of the three groups. This last chemical group consisted of the youngest females, from zero to twentynine. The point was to get the women who could be futurity breeders, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent foray meant red ink of good female person for all kindred. We had to secure female person from others if we were to come through at all.
There were char in our tribe who would inspect the huddled female and decide who was fertile who was not. For the moment however, it was the physical attributes such as the curve of the waistline, the weight of the breast ( verified by ripping off the burka ) and the vastness of the thighs, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the ring, I got the maiden pickaxe. The ones I picked were usually not Thomas More than 20, though I didn't rape women vernal than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the best stuff and nonsense, the ones whose backbreaking tits hung like ripe melon on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My option had thin waists, preferably with hanker whisker that covered their back. And I liked woman who were a lilliputian feisty.
One such touchy charwoman was Farhana. I've blank out what her tribe was, we conducted so many raid you see. But she was a actual beauty. Have you seen the female slaves brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the clean colour of the outdo of them, with milklike breasts that defy gravity ? Do you notice the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to breed them ? have you noticed the look of lascivious love in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a shade 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this prison term I was 21, about 6'4 and more muscular than any in my gang. My"mother"said I was handsome. It didn't matter when we raided though. The foray that caught Farhana was a particularly waterless one, yielding just four productive female person and an old beldame we tied to the spinal column of the donkey cart carrying the women. soul said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more attract by her keen Oriental nerve and bombastic optic.
I'd noticed her standing in the middle of her small hut, defending a short man of about forty. Once I'd dispatched of the coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the heart of the small town. This appeared to be a particularly wretched settlement, lacking even a secure stables. Since there were so few women, we decided to simply cast them on the land and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the flat coat, her burqa lifting to show her melt off white ramification. Giving a word of advice public eye to the others, I asked them to claim their own charwoman and get down to work.
For my contribution I prevented her from getting up by placing a pes on her abdomen, gently pressing her down. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her hands to scratch me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few recoil on her thin waist. Pointing my leaf blade at her chest, I forced her to face the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that degree, was over. She continued to glower at me, but this time I did not dim her. Instead I stared directly into her eyes, boring into them, making my supremacy and power over her frail form patent.
She couldn't keep up the intensity for long, looking away with a look that said she'd interpret what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my human foot, I lowered myself beside her. password were impossible as the screams of the rest of the women drowned any spoken language. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a woman with his steel hold, as the horrified woman looked on, thinking he was about to impale her. He saw me looking, and mouthed the words"Eventually I would. She's not that good."
I laughed, and looked down upon my own prey. She'd lain silently at my human foot, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't fear, ripping off her pawn of modestness in a brutal move that casued some of her hairsbreadth to charge off as well. I pocketed it as a souvenir. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the debris as it spread out in opulent bend around her top dog. Her mouth were wide and pink, the way l liked them.
Immobilizing her mitt with mine, I lowered myself till her tits touched my chest, her case just inch away from my hungry lips. Pressing down further, I touched my lips with hers. They were the likes of balmy petal, parting at my signature to allow me to suck them, as a rattling lover would. Parting them boost, I probed deeper with my natural language, loving the way her sassing tasted. I sought out her tongue, finding the organ as it sought to ward off contact, but it could scarcely escape. Instead it was forced to play with mine as I forced her to look at me. Those beautiful brown eyes were now filled with a plea, a woman's supplication to be treated like a wife. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the hope turn to ash in those chocolate-brown pond. My lips parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my paw on the strobilus my chest had felt earlier. They were cushy and large, like diffused bags waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused hands. Grabbing her slenderize burka, I began to rip it off. The glare in her optic returned, but it was immediately replaced by a weak plea"Please not in public. Not like this."I continued to tear away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thighs. Pushing the soft black cloth away, I quickly disposed of her dilute unmentionable, finally revealing her magnificent tits to my hungry gaze.
They stood up like small Alfred Hawthorne even as she lay straight, making me wonder how a great deal they'd have stood out had she not hide them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't control myself as I grabbed her puffy John Brown nipples, each a liquorice nub an inch and a half long, pulling them hard. Her phonation joined the chorus of screams around us, but I could still make out her melodious scream."Please master key, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palms on the piquantness, enjoying the feel of their hard steer. Pressing down till my fingers covered her entire mounds, I began to pull the flesh into my medal, till my fingers were buried in her chest, clamping her meat into my vice like hands.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the silklike build against my unsmooth manpower. The pile too was glorious, her carnival chassis exposed and abused by my large palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her breast, I marvelled at the trench red German mark made on her bosom, one of which was leaking a dribble of stock. Smiling, I pressed down again, this time squeezing with all my might, causing her center to widen to their maximum extent, her lips opening wide to complete an expression of pure excruciation. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to seize that look for me.
But time was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could return at any moment to work mayhem on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the blood line from her tits on her shoot down burka, before beginning to rip the remainder of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her feet, and the here and now I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed charge hit me on the olfactory organ. Stopping my assault on her dress, I moved higher, till my angry visage was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mutter any exculpation, I'd landed to hard slaps on her cheeks, causing one to work dark. Blood erupted from her back talk, which I sucked away before tearing the residue of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a thick material that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her shank. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely legs to my regard. Grabbing the slim down brown ankle joint, I forcibly pulled her legs apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a futile attempt to farm herself from the dusty ground, but one gruelling lick on her flat potbelly ended such aspiration instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and shaggy-haired, making me marvel if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a unclouded kitty. Grabbing a handful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to skip over on her ass in pain. Another clod came off, then another, till her skin was irritated and bally, while weeping freely ran down the red and blue streaks on her impudence.
My dick was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my fuddled riding attire. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her head in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"manhood, and quite thick too. Her eyes followed my shaft in skepticism as it made its way towards her tight cunt. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll tear my dry orifice. Please, at least lubricate it."She realized the implication of her petition too late. My dick traced a trail of pecum over her abdomen and mamilla as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her sassing. This time I didn't even listen to her pathetic requests, the import her mouth opened for an entreaty my putz went in. As her eyes bulged along with her ill-treated impertinence, I felt a cockeyed moist impression engulf my dick. eagre for to a greater extent, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the back of her head. She was now directly underneath me, our eubstance connected by my shaft as it pressed against her skull. In this spot, it'd be hard to push it down her throat, that'd have to be for later, For now I began to saw the part that could go in, in and out of her mouthpiece, making it overnice and wet for her nether brim.
I don't think she'd ever taken a tool in her mouth before, for she was soon gagging, trying to shake her straits. This had the effect of causing my cock to slap against the inside of her cheeks, which had presumably been damaged by my strong slap. She winced and gave up the attempt, breathing through her olfactory organ as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her besotted mouth with groovy dynamism, but careful not to cum yet. I'm sure she'd have hoped at some tip that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to assault her pussy. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist cock out of her abused backtalk, and aiming it at her pussy. Her mouth was not yet capable of public speaking, and I used this secrecy to think she was prepare for her vaginal encroachment.
As with every violation I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any soupcon of softheartedness. In one swift stroke I was in, realizing only when I'd broken it than she had been a virgin. Pulling it out, I admired the red streaks on my putz, before burying it fully into her puss. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably tight. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to seduce the most out of this stroke of fortune. Still marvelling at the parsimoniousness of her trap, I grabbed the position of her thighs, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with expectant violence.
My buff howled in pain, shaking her brain and making tongue-tied drive with her limbs as she tried in vain to lam from the searing torment that must have been pulsing through her body from her vagina. I now began to have it off her with corking force, pummeling her tummy and tits every time she tried to change over herself. A tenuous sound told me I'd likely bankrupt one of her costa, but I didn't'aid - she existed for my pleasure, and I was getting it. It was as if her body was designed to provide me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain sensation, for as she screwed up her centre and screamed into the sky, her pussy brawniness seemed to squeeze me harder and harder, till she sent me over the edge. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this time I kissed her, forcing her abused lips to accept me again, this time with no hope of any tenderness.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a long meter. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the unseasoned of my caller, staring at me with eye that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a good lad, having saved my life in a old sortie when a horseman almost had me from the dorsum. He had been left to guard the entering to the hamlet, and though this was wonted for the youngest of the gang, he clearly rued the missed fortune. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in ignominy and walked off. That's when I decided that Farhana had one hole left still. I called out to Yaldir.
The lad turned around abruptly, his face clearly showing the penalization a individual found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a captive in the open ) could expect. Instead he heard his chief calling upon him to show up his manliness to the working girl who'd birthed the foeman progeny. For a moment he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to deliver thought her trial by ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a virile new man connect her rapist, she began to crawl away, her eyes showing a desperation seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his political boss'whore, whether to grab and assault her or to hold back for me to conduct the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knees, he grabbed her and knocked her down. I walked over casually, surveying his flesh with appreciation. Nodding at him to remove his clothes, I pulled the woman towards me, throwing away the remnant of her burka. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to examine her ass fix as Yaldir's 7 inch cock was exposed. I signalled him to pop with her mouth as I began to prepare for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some sort of referee during this phase of her violation. These Leslie Townes Hope would have been rudely tattered when I pressed my peter against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my digit. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral orifice, her eubstance gently rocking as he fucked her. For a moment I wished I'd used her sass in this position, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the other mitt aimed directly at her pucker brown hole. The slime from her mouth and slit and my cock still there to act as lubricant, I plunged my extremity into her lowest virginal yap.
Farhana would give screamed had Yaldir not been taking her mouth. In the issue she gagged on his cock, causing him to draw out. This led to her completing her screech, before I signalled him to push his dick back in. On my theatrical role, her backdoor, even tighter than her pussy, coupled with the melodic howler emanating from her mouth, caused my cock to inure inside her body. This growth made her ass seem all the more tight, her anal muscles likely tearing as they suffered the first invasion of her unforesightful life.
My pleasance, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our chief watch. He had just gotten news program that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't stoppage aloof from the sex view unfolding before him. I handed him my horse whip, instructing him to whip her across her back, but avoid our cocks or her hands and legs.
The first blow of the horsewhip made her gag and battle again, but Yaldir knew better than to pull out this clip, instead enjoying the spear carrier bottleneck of her throat. At the same time the imperativeness of her anal muscularity on my cock was unbelievable. Timing my next shot for the adjacent blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a woman's anal muscles squeezing one's cock desperately as the thick corded whip landed on her melt off waist. I pulled out and ( whack ! ) slammed in again. whack wallop rap. Her white ass was developing red welts, which crisscrossed, lineage erupting at the crossings. Whack on her shoulder blades, knock on her depressed dorsum, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a rhythm by now, fucking her like a yearn terminal with our stopcock buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our bodies and Mirwaiz's whip forming an orchestra of which the instrument was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached orgasm, forcing the others to keep in melody, forcing the whore between us to set till she could correct no more than. As a whip appeared decently across her turn down back to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him come together his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's head to his bulwark as he came in her mouth. As he finished up, I realized I too could not hold for long. Taking a smaller whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to stop. Instead I aimed the whiplash straight across her cover and brought it down upon all her other wounds with grand force. Her articulation rang out across the sands as her ass squeezed down on my cock like a velvet vice. My self-denial collapsed, the flood gate opening in her asshole as I whipped her again and again like a useless scuff, causing her anal muscle to spasm, milking my prick for all it was deserving. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to pass out on the ground.
You may ask what I did thereafter ? Well, Farhana was half all in by this metre, so we hoisted her up over the sharpness of a fizgig, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly gained consciousness as the metal tip ripped through her gut, spewing blood down the shaft of the shaft. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her lower pearl, it got wedged among her ribs, preventing her from dying a quick death. I left her there, staring at me with half glazed eyes as her ass leaked cum and her pussy lineage.
It was by now time to go back. Some of the former women who'd been used by the despoiler were similarly dispatched. The shaft of a spear broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. checkup noesis being what it is, we left her like that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody ground. While we were fucking, three more charwoman had been caught from a nearby barn. One of them was a very short thin girl, barely 18, with niggling of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddleback well, and it fell upon her to lie monotonic on the horse's back her pussy accessible to my cock. The former women were either tied and put in the donkey go-cart or, in instance of one who'd bite a raider, dragged behind the cart.
It was a pleasurable drive back, my pecker sawing in and out of her tight orifice as I rode on the horse. It was a especial chief's privilege ( not formally of course ) to rape a adult female on horseback, and as I pumped my warhead into her defenceless kitty-cat, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a real chief of my tribe. Sadly, my destiny was different.
The first signs of the ill current of air were received in the very hour I returned from this excellent raid. A few of our plunder horses had been stolen by another kin group, and the pursuing party had been killed in combat. Among them was my full cousin, and this incensed me no end. Leaving the women to be tended by the attendants as they saw fit, I headed straight for the headman'hut, where worried and unquiet faces met me.
"Rashid, do you have a go at it what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the current fountainhead of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were murmur of annoyance at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to mind. Instead he told the mathematical group about the gymnastic horse ( and women ) I'd captured during the maraud. Most of them listened to the details with unusual interest, the reasonableness for which became open only when I learnt that the raid by the regular leadership on a different tribe had been a sign unsuccessful person.

I'm not one to gloat over my triumph, rather I'd prefer to head into another battle. This time however, the adjacent battle came from an unexpected one-fourth. Qaglich caravanserai, an elder who had a familial dislike for my family, stood up"My brethren, it becomes clear that the rash actions of this young man are the reason behind the loser of our raid today. He took our respectable horses, reduced our numbers, and forced the elderberry bush to lash out a lesser place."
I was stunned. The cavalry belonged to us, captured personally by me and my supporter during the previous raids. As for the men, it was an receptive mystery that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a phonation choked with anger I pointed this out. His logical argument was even more ridiculous as the attack on a lesser area had failed. But the elders were by now looking at me with a mix of thorniness and anger, which I found hard to forfend. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my depreciator had a good backing in the council, I had none. The arguments were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no demand to name the tribal tilt in particular. You were thrown out shortly prior to the obliteration of your federation of tribes by the Yalitiz federation of tribes. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But criminal record tell us there were only three people in the group that arrived. Where did the quarter go ?"
Rashid looked with a sullen construction at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the narrative ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you mouth Rashid. Please continue."
"fine. Have it your way, the Sooner we're done the better. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decision was taken, I was asked to will within twenty four hours. All our cattle were taken away in rejoinder for the paltry sum of 5000 dirhams. All we were left with were a domestic ass and my Equus caballus. To make thing speculative, as I was leaving, that asshole again spoke up
‘ And take your jade sis with you. We don't want her ruining our boys'manhood."
I took it as an offhand insult. Cursing the state of occasion, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the decision, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would have succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be true.
My home back then was at the edge of a small ridge, a drop from which would not vote out you but break your limbs. It was separated from the Village proper by a small distance which housed the stalls of the folk. As I checked on my sawhorse to make certainly it was in salutary health should I actually have to void the next day, I was surprised to detect the sound of a missy coming from behind them.
Wondering what on earth was happening in my own tribal base, I peered labialise the bound of the stable, and was stunned to encounter my older sister with a man. Worse, not only was she pure naked but he was in fact a member of one of our touch kin group, one which had waged a war of payback against us not long ago. He must suffer sneaked into the village, but that didn't explain why he was with my sister or why she was moaning loudly as he rammed into her wet jam.
Uptil that time I'd known myself as a balanced person, one who could curb himself and his anger. That was the kickoff time I lost this self control, and all because of a stupid hussy of a sister. Letting out a holler, I had my sword in my hand before either of them were aware of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her cunt as I swept the sword in an arc an inch from my baby's terrified face, slicing her lover's cervix into two His head, the reflection of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the ground even as his body continued to twitch from the mixture of ejaculation and death spasm.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to drive him out. This she did in a daze, her optic filling up with tears at this crimson turn of events. I would have strangled her to death then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very bit. Worse, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich Khan.
The scrawny SOB had been watching the proceeding even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a brief while from his hiding spot behind a rock candy. I brandished my steel at him, and he ran straight into a tree diagram. Getting up, he ran again till he was out of sight. I knew the elderberry bush would be hot upon the scent the moment the kid went and told them.
To cause topic sorry, she had, in her reckless mania, headed behind the stables leaving her apparel behind a shrub that was in the deliver fate a mile off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her clothes, but saw a gang gathered there by the prison term I returned. The kid had cooked up as story about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the enemy but preferred to confer with the elders before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my cheek now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very little influence on the minds of the prejudiced minds of the elder. When that stupid flatus called Qaglich spoke of how the John Barleycorn were infelicitous with me and my menage, it was the end of any Bob Hope I may induce hitherto entertained. Worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the women of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral bit unbecoming of a big federation of tribes.
You'd understand that the pain was nothing to me, hell, I'd felt much greater pain in armed combat. It was the humiliation that hurt me about. That old flatus's son wielded the whiplash, and fifty strokes were what I got, swearing to avenge each one of them on the campaign of my ignominy. There was talk of stoning the whore to decease, but I wanted to punish her myself. So my friends were surprised when I asked that she be left alone. The elderberry bush agreed on condition that we packed up and left before aurora the next day.
My back burning, I headed back with my burlap sack covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The instant we got domicile, she landed hard on the level from a backhand slap on her fair nerve. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the womanhood of the tribe so worked up. I explained in as many words that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the fall apart sleeping room for the female that she began to sob. I was too pissed to think about the hereafter immediately, rather I wanted to penalise the whore. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like war hawk, causing me to consecrate my time and tending to the task of packing things. Not that there was much to pack. We aren't a rich kin group, and ever since my Church Father was removed thing have gotten worse - he atleast knew how to deal.
As I tended to the horse and domestic ass, getting them ready, my mother and sister packed up, the shamefaced one simply sat in a box crying, too stunned by the brutal end of her devotee to respond. The packing was done by midnight, and we were set up to pull up stakes by the clip the first-class honours degree beam of light of the sun were breaking through the rugged J. J. Hill in the space. It was frigid, but I refused to let the culprit wear anything beyond the gunny bag she'd been given by one of the settlement girls upon being discovered raw.
The villagers gave us none of the accustomed salutation given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few Oliver Stone behind our van ( my female parent had persuaded the gaffer's wife to two camels instead of the donkey, we had originally owned four horses and four camels apart from the donkey ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge area that covers two thirds of our country.
As the palisade paries grew belittled, I turned back to the three womanhood in the backbone, and was annoyed to find out the elderberry bush of my footprint sisters clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my choler, and sought to intercede.
‘ Please she's a untried girl, give her a chance."
"hazard. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to contain lashes from that half breed Qaglich's wimp. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M younger stepsister was weeping silently, hugging the sometime one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the half-baked road was all that lay ahead and behind us. The next plosive was a ripe twenty naut mi away. I decided this was as beneficial a time as any to punish my whore sister. Stopping my sawhorse, I asked the women to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the younger girl by her prospicient hair and pulled her push down onto the hot Baroness Dudevant, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old char came next, pulled bodily down and bewilder away. The adulteress, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my compass till I grabbed her buns and pulled her towards me.
She made one stopping point sweat to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the face, knocking half her tweed teeth down her throat. Blood erupted from her sass, as she fell to her stifle, her deal folded as she begged me with wide heart. For the get-go, and close time in my spirit, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish face like her mother, she had all-embracing brown eyes and whisker that could pass of as embrown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the torso. Good enough for a Brassica napus, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the hair, I yanked her up. Her hands flew to her maltreated mane, her oral cavity, resembling that of a 7 class old child now, making mumbling disturbance. I held her up before me, looking into the scared eye, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lashes, the extrusion and the gloating face of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My handwriting almost dropped her as the force of my slap on her cheek rocked her fragile body. More blood erupted from her face, her eyes now screwed up in pan from the variety of reverence and pain.
As the other two female person looked on in terror, I threw her on the ground, landing three hard kicks on the burka enclothe figure. She rolled into a fetal position, her face wrinkled by an saying of acute pain. You'd ask me how I could penalize my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would have punished a one thousand of my babe like that, and high-risk, if they did anything of the sorting. Plus I'd never regarded them as sisters, or my stepmother as my mother. They simply existed so I could do my responsibility to the kin while they did the work at home.
Hence I felt no SOB of that thing you call scruples as I watched the female writhe in agony on the hot Baroness Dudevant. In fact, I landed another operose on her costa, causing a cracking audio. She looked at me with an expression of awe and horror, never having expected her own"sidekick"to be so cruel. At that minute however, I felt knotted hands on my thorax, and looked up to see"female parent"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not stamp out her so. I told her that she was partly responsible as she'd raised a whore like Sahiba, and she should be repenting instead of asking for clemency. She returned to Anima, the younger young woman, and both resumed their crying.
The girl had lain on the ground for some time now, and in nastiness of her pain, must receive realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to crawl away, a look of utter desperation on her fount. If she'd shown the same desperation while trying to jib that man, she wouldn't have suffered this fate. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this distributor point I'd had no particular aim apart from punishing her to the full extent potential. It was likely she wouldn't survive the ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a sporting lady to die for shaming her household. Unfortunately for her, as she made another try to crawl away, the lower part of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty thigh to my gaze. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see Sir Thomas More of her body.
backbone in the village I would have abstained from any such activity, as that may have earned me an projection as well. Now however, there was no one for stat mi around, and she was not the rude youthful girl but a sob creature who would anyhow be punished. power as well hit this hard employment a little more pleasurable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot priming as she saw me deflect down. Did she bear me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? in all probability she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the textile of the burka was comparatively thin, causing it to buck in my handwriting, leaving her ass exposed to my regard. Amid renewed howling and curses from the woman that had birthed the bawd and her sister, I pulled Sahiba up by her waistline.
The hot George Sand helped again, for it burnt her exposed skin, causing her to willingly allow me to pluck her up. Infact, I soon had the fille in my weaponry, having spared her the torture of the hot sand. Her terrify eyes, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the little terror of returning to the hot sand bed. As she considered the option in that stupid mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood in those full pink petal for the first and finish time. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the vista of being brutally raped on the ground. But I had no aim of sparing her any of her agony. Pulling away, I ripped off the remainder of her burqa as she danced on the hot sand, then threw her intemperately on the earth again.
Her scream wasn't as tuneful as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dreary bareness of the desert. I kicked the worm figure on the ground right in between her pegleg, eliciting another musical howl from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to remain in the curled up position she now assumed, the Baroness Dudevant would not let her. Unwindng she made a desperate endeavour to escape. This only placed her in a temp pooch way, allowing me to weigh my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the dry land. As her consistency met the ground again, she screamed, this time begging me to kill her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend decent sentence punishing her, and the sun was getting high over our heads. Soon, she would be roasting on the moxie if she lay there : I had to move fast. She was again in a crawling position, almost up on her invertebrate foot this time. I allowed her to get up, and run a few paces, before grabbing her. She struggled fiercely, perhaps thinking she'd have made it if I'd let her go. As we scuffled, I was surprised to find the young sister turn up, pulling in vain at my impregnable weapon as they held her slut sister. As I finally began dragging her vertebral column, I felt a combustion pain in my wrist. The bitch had bitten me !
TO make matters uncollectible, the slut whore, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to better free and run even as her sister remained latched onto my bloody radiocarpal joint. Smarting under the painful sensation in my radiocarpal joint, I broke loose from the younger daughter with a hard punch to her abdomen, before giving pursuit to my fleeing captive. She did not make it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could realize off on my horse. As she learnt to her dismay, the cavalry was more loyal to me than she had been, and refused to agitate. Her gawky pulling at its reins caused it to down a severely boot on one of her legs, causing her to collapse on the sand. I reached her and landed half a dozen hard kicks on every part of her body, breaking her teeth, rib and weapon. I stopped only when she no longer had the strength to get up from the gumption though it was turning her dorsum from a bright red to brown.
cachexia no more metre, I kicked her legs apart and relinquish my member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the prospect of fucking a fresh cunt. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her working girl kettle of fish as she continued to squirm in pain sensation. Like Farhana she could not hold to look into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this time I didn't military unit her to. Instead I grabbed her fleshy mounds, belittled than Farhana's, but expectant than the average cunt you find in those region. Mauling and pinching them hard, I looked at her font, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the verge of passing out from the pain in her loins and in her backbone, forcing me to slap her a few clip to insure she felt every moment of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her puss for some time. It was tight, warm up and had it not been the open up desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken greater pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her charms, especially the periodic clinch on my hammer when her already roasting anatomy touched more scorching sand, or my hand played with the assorted office of her slutty body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the consideration a commodity matter as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speed, my poking causing her to rock like a rag doll on the ground, her eyes rolling in her head teacher from the intense pain in her consistency. On purpose I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to press down upon it even as my knife thrust caused her soft peel to rub against the rough grains. As I approached orgasm, she again appeared to be passing out, and this clock time I had to catch her nipples, pulling her up by their weight. Any relief this would throw given her from the moxie was more than made up by the agony in her breast, for she howled out like a flail dog. Her pussy clenched tighter than ever on my pecker, asking for her"brother's"source. My cock obliged, exploding in her cunt with an volume which caused the desert and the oestrus to melt for a minute as I was lost in pure blissfulness.
I came for what seemed like an eternity. By the time I was done she had passed out, but had a swoon pulsing. Not wishing to waste any of our treasured H2O on the cyprian, I instead pulled her onto the horse like the bitch the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to follow. They had little pick in the thing, complying with my bid like two thresh about donkeys. Satisfied that it was leaving nothing to the defect apart from the shreds of Sahiba's burka, I mounted my sawhorse, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a small treat for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to move however, turned the slut ‘ baby'over, so that her fair pap were replaced by the brownish-red back. Spreading her ass impudence, I aimed my cock at her tail entrance. She offered no active resistance, still being passed out. Her son of a bitch was surprisingly easy to penetrate, making me enquire if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibilities, I pushed my curing cock into her keister. Satisfied that it was indeed deep down, I raised her hands and tied them behind my neck. This put her exercising weight upon my neck, but it was the alone resolution as she wasn't as short as that other snatch. It had the append draw of causing an intense pain in the neck in her blazon when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was gear up, I took mastery of the horse with one deal and my legs, having been trained to fuel obeisance from horseback in this manner. The free hired hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a Trotskyist, resuming the journey across the wasteland wastes at the capitulum of my"sept ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive criticism and suggestions, including how the plot of ground should carry on, are always receive. incompatibility, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for reading .