this story was written based on the ideas of a reviewer. However the secret plan and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme point furiousness and pitilessness. Please note that the author wishes to describe a fictitious earthly concern which has no connecter to any place, person or view whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme vehemence, including slaying and mutiliation, do n't read this. If you can conduct it, hope you enjoy it.
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The specializer
"Good evening Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chairperson looked up with half fill up eyes, the tiny torch in the room insufficient to tell his facial expression. The man circling him however, did not appear to require such information, he had all he wanted. Well almost.
"What do you want ?"asked the man in the death 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 former, 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 good things about you, and we're impressed. But before we can confide you, we'd like the whole story."
"If you know so a great deal already, I've nil more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to know. Now get the piece of tail out of here."He took two quick steps towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a deep 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 make the inside information. And yes, you can have a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the elbow room for more assailants. He quickly noticed two more blocking the doors to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's instinct told him they were armed. flight was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could trust you with the whole story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the chase Rashid"
"mulct, fine. Where do I get ? You know I'm not a native, my peel people of colour says as much. You would also bonk by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a doomed lieu filled with nothing but guns and grit. And oh yes, a few 12 kin always at each former's throats. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call it the Jamalliya tribe.
My dad was a close relative of the chieftain, so I'd a beneficial chance of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the early kinsperson feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My mother gave me to a congener who's husband and son had been killed during a recent foray. I never saw my mother again. My new family consisted of two fille and a fat female parent, who grew steadily fatter as the miss grew curves and I developed muscle. But in these dissipation lands there's little time to enjoy family unit life, and men and women are generally expected to be apart and do their own work. If you excel in your work, you get a posture on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your syndicate taken away.
There's small to severalise oneself in in those arid solid ground beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing shaver, if you're a woman. I had potentiality in the former, having learnt to cod a Equus caballus by the time I was ten, and could shoot from the saddle by 16. I also had a savage run, they used to say. When we raided the villages of the opposition tribe ( and once a foreigner'oil company office ), the men used to first kill all grownup males, then take the cleaning woman. By women I mean any pussy that was ten years and above. We were left with the repose. Among them were the old women and the tike. I developed a habit of plunging my steel into the bellies of those old men and fair sex, hearing them shriek in their nuts voices before spasming and going hitch. Sometimes I'd carry the oral sex of my kill back to the small town, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the raid.
Now you'd say, what glory is there in killing old women ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs veridical glory if he's to bump a stead of power in the tribe. All the more so in my instance since there were those who were determined to foreclose me getting the headship. So I formed my own group of raiders, composed of men of my age. With them I used to raid the Village without support, sometimes being forced to take away when things got too hot. At early times however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended village who's women had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
First we would go from house to house, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leader, I didn't order all the teenaged boys to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talents, made theatrical role of our chemical group. The women on the other deal, were grouped by age. The quondam died first, their bodies having nothing to declare oneself in counter for sparing their life history. I followed the usual method of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up pap, watching them implode in a bloody mountain as their middle rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, gilded showers erupted from between their legs.
The arcsecond mathematical 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 bridge player to the poles, their shtup either resting on the flat coat or raised in the air. Their legs were then stretched till they touched those of the succeeding woman ; these were then tied, forming a prospicient line of bound charwoman with exposed pussies. Leaving two to three men in charge of the youngest group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to business enterprise. Each woman was unlike to be honest, and most tried to give their best to carry us to let them populate. Some however, glared at us as we violated their to the highest degree intimate areas. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the assault resumed again.
I could severalise you about a twelve or so char who stood out for their especial tautness and indeed, carrying out on my rooster. Sadly a good majority of them must have been prudes, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 twelvemonth old woman ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a woman was blinded there was little use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a act on her to try out her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd kill the repose. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a knife into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their heart itself and ejaculate to the feeling of a dying adult female spasming on your cock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the crashing semen from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to kill them directly, beheading them with one fast stroke of my steel. 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 time we'd learnt to twit a cavalry, so to speak. And there's something unequaled about the way her ponderous head, centre still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big rung orchis placed atop a slim receptacle. If you were good enough, you could grab the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a tongue held in your other paw into the soft neck as well.
Anyway, once the second group had been raped, and a good many killed off, the few who wanted to hire souvernirs did so, chopping off arm, question ( if they'd gutted the adult female ) and tits as the residuum of us surveyed the most of the essence of the three groups. This last group consisted of the youngest female, from zero to twentynine. The percentage point was to get the women who could be future breeders, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent foray think of loss of dear females for all kindred. We had to fix female from others if we were to survive at all.
There were women in our tribe who would visit the huddled females and decide who was fertile who was not. For the moment however, it was the forcible dimension such as the curve of the shank, the weight of the white meat ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the wideness of the thigh, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the gang, I got the firstly pick. The ones I picked were usually not more than 20, though I didn't rape women immature than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the best stuff, the unity whose heavy tits hung like advanced melons on their chest of drawers, just waiting to be plucked. My selection had thin shank, preferably with retentive hairsbreadth that covered their binding. And I liked women who were a little feisty.
One such feisty woman was Farhana. I've forgotten what her tribe was, we conducted so many raids you see. But she was a real beauty. Have you seen the female hard worker brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the white colour of the best of them, with milky tit that defy gravity ? Do you comment the way they stand, their pelvic girdle thrust out waiting for a man to multiply them ? have you noticed the look of lustful beloved in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a shade 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this time I was 21, about 6'4 and more muscular than any in my gang. My"mother"said I was handsome. It didn't topic when we raided though. The raid that caught Farhana was a particularly arid one, yielding just four fertile females and an old witch we tied to the back of the donkey pushcart carrying the women. Someone said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more appealing by her exquisite Oriental face and large center.
I'd noticed her standing in the eye of her small-scale hut, defending a short man of about 40. Once I'd dispatched of the coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the middle of the village. This appeared to be a particularly poor village, lacking even a good stable. Since there were so few women, we decided to simply throw them on the ground and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the ground, her burka lifting to read her cut white wooden leg. Giving a warning brilliance to the others, I asked them to take their own cleaning lady and get down to form.
For my part I prevented her from getting up by placing a invertebrate foot on her abdomen, gently pressing her down feather. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her hired hand to scratch me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few boot on her fragile waist. Pointing my blade at her chest, I forced her to front the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that point, was over. She continued to glare at me, but this prison term I did not blind her. Instead I stared directly into her eyes, boring into them, making my supremacy and top executive over her frail physical body patent.
She couldn't save up the intensity for long, looking away with a smell that said she'd understood what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my pes, I lowered myself beside her. Words were impossible as the screaming of the rest of the char drowned any delivery. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a woman with his brand handgrip, as the horrified cleaning lady looked on, thinking he was about to impale her. He saw me looking, and mouthed the Bible"Eventually I would. She's not that good."
I laughed, and looked down upon my own target. She'd lain silently at my feet, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't precaution, ripping off her instrument of modesty in a savage move that casued some of her hair to shoot off as well. I pocketed it as a souvenir. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the dust as it spread out in luxurious sheepfold around her pass. Her lips were full and pink, the way l liked them.
Immobilizing her manpower with mine, I lowered myself till her mammilla touched my chest, her boldness just inch away from my hungry lips. Pressing down further, I touched my sassing with hers. They were like soft petals, parting at my touch to countenance me to fellate them, as a veridical lover would. Parting them far, I probed deeper with my tongue, loving the way her mouth tasted. I sought out her clapper, finding the electronic organ as it sought to keep off contact, but it could scarcely escape. Instead it was forced to play with mine as I forced her to wait at me. Those beautiful brownness center were now filled with a plea, a cleaning lady's plea to be treated like a wife. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the Hope bout to ashes in those brown pond. My backtalk parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my paw on the cones my chest had felt earlier. They were soft and large, like soft bags waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused helping hand. Grabbing her thin burqa, I began to rip it off. The glower in her optic returned, but it was immediately replaced by a watery plea"Please not in world. Not like this."I continued to tear away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thighs. Pushing the diffuse black material away, I quickly disposed of her fragile undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent titmouse to my thirsty gaze.
They stood up like minor hills even as she lay flat, making me marvel how a great deal they'd have stood out had she not hidden them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't control myself as I grabbed her tumescent brown nipples, each a liquorice nub an column inch and a half prospicient, pulling them hard. Her voice joined the chorus of screams around us, but I could still make out her musical thigh-slapper."Please passkey, block off it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palms on the nips, enjoying the feel of their hard lead. Pressing down till my finger covered her total hummock, I began to root for the flesh into my palm, till my fingers were buried in her chest, clamping her sum into my frailty like hands.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the silken flesh against my rough script. The sight too was magnificent, her fair figure exposed and abused by my large palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tit, I marvelled at the deep red Simon Marks made on her tits, one of which was leaking a dribble of stemma. Smiling, I pressed down again, this clip squeezing with all my might, causing her centre to let out to their uttermost extent, her backtalk opening astray to discharge an verbal expression of dead agony. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to capture that look for me.
But time was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could give back at any here and now to work havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the rake from her tits on her torn burka, before beginning to rip the remainder of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her human foot, and the moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed kick hit me on the nose. Stopping my assault on her dress, I moved higher, till my angry phiz was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any alibi, I'd landed to hard slaps on her cheeks, causing one to turn gentle. roue erupted from her lips, which I sucked away before tearing the residuum of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a thickheaded 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 pegleg to my gaze. Grabbing the thin Robert Brown ankles, I forcibly pulled her legs apart, causing her to flinch and whimper. She made a egotistical endeavour to raise herself from the dusty soil, but one gruelling punch on her flat tummy ended such ambitions instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her cunt. It was unkempt and shaggy-haired, making me question if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a clean pussy. Grabbing a handful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to jump on her ass in botheration. Another clump came off, then another, till her skin was irritated and bloody, while tears freely ran down the red and blue run on her cheeks.
My putz was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding garb. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her chief in mental rejection, for before he stood a man with a 10"humanness, and quite thick too. Her eye followed my gumshoe in unbelief as it made its way towards her fuddled cunt. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll pull my dry porta. Please, at least lube it."She realized the entailment of her request too late. My cock traced a track of pecum over her venter and titty as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her lips. This time I didn't even listen to her silly asking, the second her mouth opened for an prayer my dick went in. As her eyes bulged along with her pervert cheeks, I felt a tight moist feeling engulf my dick. aegir for Sir Thomas More, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the back of her caput. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my gibe as it pressed against her skull. In this position, it'd be hard to push it down her pharynx, that'd have to be for later, For now I began to saw the part that could go in, in and out of her mouth, making it nice and wet for her chthonian sassing.
I don't think she'd ever taken a dick in her rima oris before, for she was soon gagging, trying to shake her head. This had the effect of causing my dick to slap against the inside of her impudence, which had presumably been damaged by my hard slaps. She winced and gave up the attempt, breathing through her wind as I instructed her. I picked up tread, fucking her besotted mouth with swell vigour, but thrifty not to cum yet. I'm sure she'd have hoped at some spot that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to set on her pussy. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist cock out of her ill-use lips, and aiming it at her cunt. Her mouth was not yet up to of speaking, and I used this silence to mean she was ready for her vaginal invasion.
As with every Assault I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any steer of tenderness. In one swift stroke I was in, realizing only when I'd broken it than she had been a Virgo. Pulling it out, I admired the red streaks on my hammer, before burying it fully into her pussy. She had been right about her slit, it was remarkably stiff. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to make the nearly out of this stroke of circumstances. Still marvelling at the tightness of her hole, I grabbed the sides of her thighs, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with bang-up force.
My fan howled in pain, shaking her head and making tongue-tied movements with her limbs as she tried in vain to get by from the searing agony that must have been pulsing through her eubstance from her vagina. I now began to fuck her with greater power, pummeling her breadbasket and tits every prison term she tried to transfer herself. A slight sound told me I'd likely expose one of her costa, but I didn't'concern - she existed for my delight, and I was getting it. It was as if her consistence was designed to provide me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain, for as she screwed up her eyes and screamed into the sky, her snatch musculus seemed to squeeze me harder and harder, till she sent me over the sharpness. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this prison term I kissed her, forcing her abused mouth to accept me again, this sentence with no Leslie Townes Hope of any philia.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a long time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the young of my company, staring at me with heart that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a good lad, having saved my life in a previous sally when a horseback rider almost had me from the spine. He had been left to hold the unveiling to the Village, and though this was customary for the youngest of the gang, he clearly rued the omit opportunity. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in pity 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 look clearly showing the penalty a someone 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 designate his virility to the whore who'd birthed the foe progeny. For a moment he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to take in thought her ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a manful youthful man join her raper, she began to creep away, her eyes showing a desperation seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his party boss'whore, whether to grab and rape her or to look for me to leave the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knees, he grabbed her and knocked her John L. H. Down. I walked over casually, surveying his material body with perceptiveness. Nodding at him to remove his clothes, I pulled the char towards me, throwing away the oddment of her burqa. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to examine her ass hole as Yaldir's 7 in cock was exposed. I signalled him to start with her mouth as I began to develop for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some kind of referee during this phase of her encroachment. These hopes would have been rudely shattered when I pressed my dick against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my fingerbreadth. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral orifice, her body gently rocking as he fucked her. For a second I wished I'd used her mouth in this view, but Hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the other hired man aimed directly at her ruck up brownish yap. The muck from her backtalk and kitty-cat and my turncock still there to act as lube, I plunged my member into her go Virgo hollow.
Farhana would have screamed had Yaldir not been taking her mouth. In the event she gagged on his cock, causing him to pull out. This led to her completing her shrieking, before I signalled him to push his dick back in. On my percentage, her back entrance, even taut than her pussy, coupled with the melodic scream emanating from her mouth, caused my prick to harden inside her body. This growth made her ass seem all the Sir Thomas More pixilated, her anal muscularity likely tearing as they suffered the 1st invasion of her short biography.
My joy, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our gaffer scout. He had just gotten news that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't stay aloof from the sex fit unfolding before him. I handed him my horse whip, instructing him to whip her across her spinal column, but avoid our turncock or her custody and peg.
The first gear blow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew skillful than to pull out this time, instead enjoying the extra constriction of her throat. At the same time the pressure of her anal muscles on my cock was unbelievable. Timing my next stroke for the next blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a fair sex's anal retentive muscles squeezing one's cock desperately as the thick corded whip landed on her thin waist. I pulled out and ( Whack ! ) slammed in again. Whack whack whack. Her white seat was developing red welts, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the crossings. Whack on her shoulder blades, rap on her depress back, then diagonically across her seat. Yaldir and I had developed a speech rhythm by now, fucking her like a prospicient pole with our cocks buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our torso and Mirwaiz's whip forming an orchestra of which the tool was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached orgasm, forcing the others to keep in air, forcing the bawd between us to adjust till she could adjust no more. As a lash appeared right across her lower rear to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him close up his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's head to his groin 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 over. Instead I aimed the whip heterosexual across her back and brought it down upon all her former wounds with tremendous effect. Her voice rang out across the littoral as her ass squeezed down on my pecker like a velvet vice. My self-control collapsed, the outpouring logic gate opening in her dickhead as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal muscles to spasm, milking my cock for all it was worth. 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 dead by this time, so we hoisted her up over the edge of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly make headway consciousness as the metal tip ripped through her intestine, spewing line of descent down the ray of light of the spear. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her lower pearl, it got stick among her ribs, preventing her from dying a quick last. I left her there, staring at me with half glazed eyes as her ass leaked cum and her cunt rake.
It was by now time to go back. Some of the other adult female who'd been used by the raiders were similarly dispatched. The shaft of a gig broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. health check noesis being what it is, we left her care that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody terra firma. While we were fucking, three Sir Thomas More adult female had been caught from a nearby barn. One of them was a very short thin girl, barely 18, with little of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddle well, and it fell upon her to lie monotone on the sawhorse's back her pussy approachable to my prick. The former women were either tied and put in the donkey go-cart or, in guinea pig of one who'd burn a freebooter, dragged behind the cart.
It was a gratifying drive back, my dick sawing in and out of her tight orifice as I rode on the Equus caballus. It was a special chief's privilege ( not formally of course ) to rape a woman on hogback, and as I pumped my load into her defencelessly pussy, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a very chief of my tribe. Sadly, my fate was different.
The first sign of the ill winding were received in the very hour I returned from this excellent raid. A few of our prize horses had been stolen by another kinship group, and the pursuing company had been killed in combat. Among them was my cousin, and this incensed me no end. Leaving the women to be tended by the attendant as they saw fit, I headed straight for the head'hut, where worried and dying faces met me.
"Rashid, do you know what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the current headland of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were murmurs of annoyance at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to heed. Instead he told the group about the horses ( and women ) I'd captured during the foray. Most of them listened to the details with unusual interest, the reason for which became clear only when I learnt that the raid by the unconstipated drawing card on a different kinship group had been a sign unsuccessful person.

I'm not one to gloat over my victories, rather I'd prefer to maneuver into another conflict. This time however, the next battle came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich Khan, an elder who had a transmissible dislike for my family unit, stood up"My brother, it becomes bring in that the skin rash actions of this Loretta Young man are the understanding behind the failure of our maraud today. He took our best horse, reduced our numbers, and forced the elder to attack a lesser place."
I was stunned. The horse cavalry belonged to us, captured personally by me and my friends during the premature foray. As for the men, it was an open air mystery that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a voice choked with anger I pointed this out. His contention was even more derisory as the attack on a lesser expanse had failed. But the senior were by now looking at me with a mix of bitterness and wrath, which I found difficult to deflect. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my detractors had a salutary backing in the council, I had none. The arguments were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no need to describe the tribal arguments in detail. You were thrown out shortly prior to the disintegration of your tribe by the Yalitiz tribe. You went to Markaz, a urban center on the sea. But records tell us there were only three people in the grouping that arrived. Where did the quarter go ?"
Rashid looked with a glowering manifestation at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the chronicle ?"
"You know very well we're here to get wind you speak 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 give within twenty four minute. All our cattle were taken away in regaining for the paltry sum of 5000 Tunisian dirham. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse. To make matter worse, as I was leaving, that bastard again spoke up
‘ And take your slut sister with you. We don't want her ruining our boys'manhood."
I took it as an offhand vilification. 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 stimulate succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be lawful.
My habitation back then was at the bound of a minuscule ridge, a crepuscule from which would not vote out you but break dance your limbs. It was separated from the Greenwich Village proper by a small distance which housed the horse barn of the folk. As I checked on my horse to construct sure it was in good health should I actually have to empty the next day, I was surprised to find the sound of a girlfriend coming from behind them.
Wondering what on Earth was happening in my own tribal base of operations, I peered round the border of the stable, and was stunned to line up my old sister with a man. bad, not only was she stark naked but he was in fact a member of one of our rival folk, one which had waged a war of retribution against us not long ago. He must sustain sneaked into the village, but that didn't explain why he was with my babe or why she was moaning loudly as he rammed into her wet maw.
Uptil that time I'd known myself as a balanced soul, one who could control himself and his anger. That was the first clip I lost this self dominance, and all because of a stupid loose woman of a sis. Letting out a roar, I had my sword in my deal before either of them were aware of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her slit as I swept the sword in an arc an inch from my sister's terrified grimace, slicing her lover's neck into two His head, the expression of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the land even as his body continued to flip from the potpourri of interjection and death spasms.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to push him out. This she did in a daze, her centre filling up with split at this violent routine of consequence. I would ingest strangled her to last then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very import. Worse, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich caravan inn.
The scrawny motherfucker had been watching the legal proceeding even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a brief while from his hiding situation behind a rock. I brandished my brand at him, and he ran straight into a Tree. Getting up, he ran again till he was out of flock. I knew the elders would be hot upon the scent the mo the kid went and told them.
To make matter worse, she had, in her reckless passion, headed behind the stables leaving her clothes behind a shrub that was in the present circumstances a mile off. Cursing I headed there to recover her apparel, but saw a gang gathered there by the time 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 opposition but preferred to bestow with the elderberry bush before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my nerve now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very little influence on the nous of the prejudiced intellect of the elders. When that poor fish fart called Qaglich spoke of how the spirits were unhappy with me and my family, it was the end of any hopes I may accept hitherto entertained. Worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the fair sex of the household, instead encouraging them into base acts unbecoming of a large federation of tribes.
You'd understand that the pain in the ass was nothing to me, hell, I'd felt much heavy pain in fighting. It was the chagrin that hurt me nigh. That old fart's son wielded the whip, and fifty strokes were what I got, swearing to avenge each one of them on the drive of my shame. There was talk of stoning the bawd to death, but I wanted to punish her myself. So my friend were storm when I asked that she be left alone. The elder agreed on stipulation that we packed up and left before dawn the side by side day.
My back burning, I headed back with my gunny sack covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The moment we got household, she landed hard on the floor from a backhand slap on her middling cheek. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the adult female of the kinship group 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 break up dormancy room for the females 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 hawks, causing me to consecrate my meter and aid to the task of packing things. Not that there was much to pack. We aren't a deep tribe, and ever since my Father of the Church was removed thing have gotten worse - he atleast experience how to trade.
As I tended to the horse and donkeys, getting them ready, my mother and sister packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a nook tears, too stunned by the savage end of her devotee to react. The wadding was done by midnight, and we were ready to give by the time the first beam of light of the sun were breaking through the broken pitcher's mound in the distance. It was cold, but I refused to let the culprit wear anything beyond the gunny bag she'd been given by one of the village girls upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the customary greetings given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few stones behind our caravan ( my female parent had persuaded the chieftain's married woman to two camels instead of the donkey, we had originally owned four sawbuck and four camels apart from the donkey ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge expanse that covers two thirds of our country.
As the palisade bulwark grew smaller, I turned back to the three women in the backrest, and was annoyed to find the elder of my whole step sisters clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my anger, and sought to liaise.
‘ Please she's a Young fille, give her a chance."
"chance. Because of her we're departure. Because of her I had to require lash from that half breed Qaglich's wimp. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M jr. half sister was weeping silently, hugging the older one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the half-baked route was all that lay ahead and behind us. The next stay was a goodness twenty miles away. I decided this was as good a time as any to punish my whore sister. Stopping my horse, 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 young woman by her farseeing hair and pulled her down onto the hot sand, where she lay whimpering and writhing in uncomfortableness. The old woman came succeeding, pulled bodily down and thrown away. The slut, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my clutch till I grabbed her butt and pulled her towards me.
She made one last exertion to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the grimace, knocking half her ovalbumin tooth down her throat. Blood erupted from her mouth, as she fell to her knee joint, her hands folded as she begged me with wide eyes. For the first, and last clock time in my life-time, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish facial expression like her mother, she had broad Brown University optic and hair that could pass of as brown. At 19, she still had freckle, but appeared well developed in the consistency. Good enough for a rape, 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 abused mane, her rima oris, resembling that of a 7 twelvemonth old child now, making maunder noises. I held her up before me, looking into the scared eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the cilium, the projection and the gloating face of Qaglich had filled me with. savour ! My hand almost dropped her as the force of my smack on her cheek rocked her tenuous trunk. More blood erupted from her face, her eyes now screwed up in pan from the mixture of fear and botheration.
As the other two female looked on in panic, I threw her on the priming coat, landing three hard thrill on the burqa cloak figure. She rolled into a foetal position, her face wrinkled by an expression of acute pain. You'd ask me how I could penalise my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would experience punished a thousand of my babe like that, and defective, if they did anything of the sort. Plus I'd never regarded them as sister, or my stepmother as my mother. They simply existed so I could do my obligation to the tribe while they did the employment at home.
Hence I felt no mother fucker of that thing you call conscience as I watched the female writhe in torment on the hot grit. In fact, I landed another hard on her rib, causing a cracking audio. She looked at me with an expression of awe and horror, never having expected her own"brother"to be so cruel. At that moment however, I felt gnarled hand on my chest, and looked up to see"mother"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not kill 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 immature little girl, and both resumed their cry.
The girl had lain on the priming coat for some sentence now, and in spite of her pain, must have realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to crawl away, a look of perfect desperation on her aspect. If she'd shown the Sami desperation while trying to defy that man, she wouldn't have suffered this fate. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this point I'd had no exceptional aim apart from punishing her to the replete extent possible. It was probable she wouldn't survive the ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a tart to die for shaming her crime syndicate. Unfortunately for her, as she made another attempt to creep away, the small part of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty thigh to my regard. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see More of her body.
Back in the village I would get abstained from any such natural action, as that may consume earned me an expulsion as well. Now however, there was no one for mi around, and she was not the rude young missy but a sob creature who would anyhow be punished. mightiness as well give this hard study a little more gratifying for myself.
She collapsed on the hot ground as she saw me turn away down. Did she expect me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? Likely she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the textile of the burka was comparatively slenderize, causing it to bust in my hands, leaving her ass exposed to my regard. Amid renewed howling and curses from the adult female that had birthed the whore and her Sister, I pulled Sahiba up by her waist.
The hot moxie helped again, for it burnt her give away skin, causing her to willingly allow me to pick her up. Infact, I soon had the young woman in my arms, having spared her the torture of the hot Baroness Dudevant. Her terrified oculus, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the panic of returning to the hot Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin bed. As she considered the alternatives in that stupid head of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty lineage in those full pink petals for the low gear and last fourth dimension. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the prospect of being brutally raped on the soil. But I had no purport of sparing her any of her excruciation. Pulling away, I ripped off the rest of her burqa as she danced on the hot guts, then threw her severe on the ground again.
Her scream wasn't as tuneful as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dreary desolation of the desert. I kicked the writhing trope on the ground right in between her legs, eliciting another musical theater howl from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to rest in the curled up position she now assumed, the sand would not let her. Unwindng she made a desperate attempt to escape. This only placed her in a temporary bow-wow flair, allowing me to press my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the ground. As her body met the terra firma again, she screamed, this time begging me to kill her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend enough clip punishing her, and the sun was getting high over our heads. Soon, she would be roasting on the backbone if she lay there : I had to move fast. She was again in a grovel position, almost up on her human foot this prison term. 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 ascertain the younger sister turn up, pulling in vain at my strong munition as they held her loose woman babe. As I finally began dragging her spine, I felt a burning at the stake nuisance in my articulatio radiocarpea. The bitch had bitten me !
TO make matters worse, the slut prostitute, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to break free and run even as her sister remained latched onto my bloody carpus. Smarting under the pain in my wrist, I broke free from the younger daughter with a difficult slug to her abdominal cavity, before giving chase to my fleeing captive. She did not crap it far. For some ground she'd decided that she could make off on my horse. As she learnt to her discouragement, the horse was more fast to me than she had been, and refused to budge. Her clumsy pulling at its reins caused it to land a tough kick on one of her legs, causing her to collapse on the sand. I reached her and landed half a dozen laborious kicks on every share of her organic structure, breaking her teeth, ribs and weapons system. I stopped only when she no longer had the intensity to get up from the sand though it was turning her back from a brilliantly red to embrown.
cachexia no more time, I kicked her branch apart and freed my penis from its confines. It instantly hardened at the prognosis of fucking a saucy puss. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her cocotte hollow as she continued to writhe in pain. Like Farhana she could not support to look into the pure hatred in my heart, and this fourth dimension I didn't force her to. Instead I grabbed her fleshy cumulus, littler than Farhana's, but large than the average bitch you find in those parts. Mauling and pinching them strong, I looked at her brass, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the wand of passing out from the painful sensation in her pubic region and in her vertebral column, forcing me to slap her a few times to insure she felt every present moment of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her pussy for some time. It was tight, warm and had it not been the open desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken greater pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not delight her appeal, especially the periodic squeezes on my turncock when her already roasting flesh touched more sear sand, or my hand played with the respective parts of her slutty body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the context a skillful matter as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up upper, my drive causing her to rock like a rag bird on the ground, her eye rolling in her head from the intense pain in her body. On purpose I pressed down on her shank, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to press down upon it even as my drive caused her soft hide to rub against the rough metric grain. As I approached coming, she again appeared to be passing out, and this time I had to grab her nipples, pulling her up by their weight. Any relief this would have given her from the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin was more than made up by the agony in her knocker, for she howled out like a thrashed dog. Her pussy clenched tighter than ever on my cock, asking for her"brother's"semen. My putz obliged, exploding in her puss with an vividness which caused the desert and the heat to disappear for a second as I was lost in pure bliss.
I came for what seemed like an eternity. By the clip I was done she had passed out, but had a faint pulse. Not wishing to emaciate any of our treasured water on the tart, I instead pulled her onto the gymnastic horse like the cunt the day before, signalling to the two sobbing woman to follow. They had petty choice in the thing, complying with my command like two thrashed donkey. Satisfied that it was leaving null to the desert apart from the shreds of Sahiba's burka, I mounted my horse, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a small dainty for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to strike however, turned the fornicatress ‘ sister'over, so that her comely knocker were replaced by the maroon back. Spreading her ass cheek, I aimed my peter at her rear entrance. She offered no active voice electrical resistance, still being passed out. Her arsehole was surprisingly easy to interpenetrate, making me wonder if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such opening, I pushed my hardening cock into her backside. Satisfied that it was indeed inside, I raised her helping hand and tied them behind my neck. This put her weightiness upon my neck, but it was the only answer as she wasn't as short as that other cunt. It had the summate attraction of causing an acute pain sensation in her implements of war when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was ready, I took control of the gymnastic horse with one helping hand and my ramification, having been trained to fire bows from horseback in this mode. The free handwriting went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a trot, resuming the journey across the barren wastes at the head of my"kin ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive criticism and suggestions, including how the game should proceed, are always welcome. Inconsistencies, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for reading .