this fib was written based on the theme of a lector. However the secret plan and description are mine. it contains extremum ferocity and cruelty. Please musical note that the author wishes to describe a fictitious world which has no connection to any position, person or sentiment whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme furiousness, including murder and mutiliation, do n't read this. If you can take on it, hope you enjoy it.
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The Specialist
"good evening Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the professorship looked up with half close down eyes, the tiny torch in the room insufficient to enjoin his saying. The man circling him however, did not seem to need such selective information, he had all he wanted. fountainhead almost.
"What do you require ?"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 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 salutary things about you, and we're strike. But before we can trust you, we'd like the whole story."
"If you know so much already, I've nix more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to eff. Now get the fuck out of here."He took two quick footstep towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a deep mark on your radiocarpal joint, Mr Rashid. upkeep to begin with how you got it ?"
"Some bitch bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a wander dog"he waved his curved steel casually"kindly give the details. And yes, you can hold a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the elbow room for Thomas More assailants. He quickly noticed two More blocking the door to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's instinct told him they were armed. escape was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could trust you with the hale story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the following Rashid"
"amercement, fine. Where do I set out ? You know I'm not a native, my hide colour says as practically. You would also know by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a damned place filled with aught but hired gun and sand. And oh yes, a few 12 tribe always at each former's throats. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call option it the Jamalliya tribe.
My dad was a close relative of the headman, so I'd a unspoilt luck of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the former families 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 raid. I never saw my mother again. My new family consisted of two miss and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the fille grew curves and I developed muscleman. But in these waste lands there's small clip to enjoy home animation, and men and women are generally expected to live apart and do their own workplace. 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 kin taken away.
There's little to distinguish oneself in in those desiccated ground beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing children, if you're a woman. I had potential in the other, having learnt to rag a knight by the time I was ten, and could scud from the saddle by 16. I also had a cruel streak, they used to say. When we raided the small town of the foe tribe ( and once a alien'oil ship's company office ), the men used to first kill all adult male person, then take the women. By women I mean any pussy that was ten years and above. We were left with the eternal sleep. Among them were the old char and the minor. I developed a substance abuse of plunging my sword into the bellies of those old men and fair sex, hearing them scream in their buggy representative before spasming and going hobble. Sometimes I'd carry the heads of my kill back to the village, 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 charwoman ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs real glory if he's to find a position of power in the folk. All the more so in my event since there were those who were determined to prevent me getting the headship. So I formed my own group of spoiler, composed of men of my age. With them I used to raid the villages without financial support, sometimes being forced to take away when things got too hot. At other times however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended small town who's womanhood had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
start we would go from star sign to theatre, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leaders, I didn't order all the teenaged boys to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their gift, made part of our group. The char on the other hired man, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their consistence having nothing to proffer in return for sparing their lives. I followed the usual methods of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up tits, watching them implode in a blooming mess as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, aureate showers erupted from between their stage.
The irregular chemical group consisted of women between 30 and 50, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but young enough to be raped. They were tied by their manus to the Pole, their asses either resting on the ground or raised in the air. Their ramification were then stretched till they touched those of the next charwoman ; these were then tied, forming a retentive crinkle of bound women with exposed slit. Leaving two to three men in charge of the young group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to business enterprise. Each cleaning lady was different to be honest, and most tried to give their best to persuade us to let them live. Some however, glared at us as we violated their most intimate country. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the assault resumed again.
I could tell you about a dozen or so women who stood out for their olympian tightness and indeed, performance on my tool. Sadly a good majority of them must make been prudes, 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 little use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a turn on her to sample her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd kill the rest period. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a knife into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their essence itself and ejaculate to the tone of a dying woman spasming on your stopcock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the bloody semen from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to kill them directly, beheading them with one quick stroking of my sword. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on film have you ? swell it's something we'd learnt to do right from the time we'd learnt to ride a horse, so to speak. And there's something singular about the way her grievous head, eyes still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big round ball placed atop a lose weight receptacle. If you were good enough, you could seize the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other hand into the soft neck as well.
Anyway, once the second group had been raped, and a adept many killed off, the few who wanted to take souvernirs did so, chopping off tree branch, nous ( if they'd gutted the adult female ) and tits as the relaxation of us surveyed the most of the essence of the three groups. This last grouping consisted of the youngest female, from zero to twentynine. The point was to get the women who could be future stock breeder, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raids meant loss of good female person for all tribes. We had to secure female from others if we were to live on at all.
There were womanhood in our folk who would scrutinize the huddled female person and determine who was fertile who was not. For the present moment however, it was the strong-arm attributes such as the curve of the waist, the weight unit of the breasts ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the greatness of the thighs, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the gang, I got the start pick. The unity I picked were usually not to a greater extent than 20, though I didn't colza women jr. than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the Charles Herbert Best clobber, the ones whose big breast hung like ripe melons on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My choices had thin waists, preferably with farseeing whisker that covered their binding. And I liked women who were a little feisty.
One such huffy woman was Farhana. I've forgotten what her tribe was, we conducted so many raids you see. But she was a real sweetheart. Have you seen the female slaves brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the white colour of the proficient of them, with milky breasts that defy gravitational attraction ? Do you notice the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to engender them ? have you noticed the expression of lubricious love in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a tad 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this sentence I was 21, about 6'4 and more muscular than any in my pack. My"mother"said I was handsome. It didn't matter when we raided though. The maraud that caught Farhana was a particularly waterless one, yielding just four fertile females and an old witch we tied to the dorsum of the donkey cart carrying the woman. Someone said it was Farhana's aunty, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more attract by her recherche Oriental face and prominent eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the middle of her humble hut, defending a unforesightful man of about forty. 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 miserable Greenwich Village, lacking even a good stable. Since there were so few adult female, we decided to simply shed them on the basis and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the soil, her burqa lifting to record her cut Edward D. White legs. Giving a warning glare to the others, I asked them to take their own women and get down to work.
For my region I prevented her from getting up by placing a fundament on her abdomen, gently pressing her down. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her hands to fret me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few kicks on her reduce shank. Pointing my blade at her chest, I forced her to face the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that point, was over. She continued to glare at me, but this time I did not blind her. Instead I stared directly into her eyes, boring into them, making my supremacy and might over her frail mannequin patent of invention.
She couldn't hold open up the intensity for long, looking away with a tone that said she'd understood what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my foundation, I lowered myself beside her. Words were impossible as the screams of the rest of the women drowned any oral communication. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a womanhood with his sword handle, as the dismay womanhood 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 quarry. She'd lain silently at my animal foot, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't maintenance, ripping off her instrumental role of reserve in a brutal motion that casued some of her hair to tear off as well. I pocketed it as a token. Farhana had beautiful pilus, now mixing with the dust as it spread out in grand folds around her head. Her lips were full moon and pink, the way l liked them.
immobilization her paw with mine, I lowered myself till her knocker touched my pectus, her face just edge away from my hungry back talk. Pressing down further, I touched my lips with hers. They were like soft petals, parting at my touch to appropriate me to fellate them, as a very devotee would. Parting them far, I probed deeper with my tongue, loving the way her mouth tasted. I sought out her tongue, finding the pipe organ as it sought to obviate contact, but it could scarcely escape. Instead it was forced to recreate with mine as I forced her to face at me. Those beautiful brown middle were now filled with a plea, a woman's plea to be treated like a wife. I chuckled at her naivety, seeing the hope act to ashes in those brown pools. My lips parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my hands on the retinal cone my chest had felt earlier. They were delicate and large, like soft handbag waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused work force. Grabbing her slight burqa, I began to rip it off. The spotlight in her optic returned, but it was immediately replaced by a debile plea"Please not in public. Not like this."I continued to buck away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thighs. Pushing the soft black material away, I quickly disposed of her thin undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent mamilla to my thirsty gaze.
They stood up like small hill even as she lay prostrate, making me question how much they'd have stood out had she not hidden them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't ascendancy myself as I grabbed her puffy chocolate-brown nipples, each a liquorice nub an inch and a half tenacious, pulling them hard. Her voice joined the chorus of screams around us, but I could still make water out her musical scream."Please passkey, block it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my decoration on the nips, enjoying the tactile property of their hard backsheesh. Pressing down till my fingers covered her stallion cumulus, I began to pull the figure into my palm, till my fingerbreadth were buried in her pectus, clamping her meat into my frailty like custody.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the silken bod against my rough hands. The pile too was glorious, her fair flesh exposed and abused by my large ribbon as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the trench red Marks made on her tits, one of which was leaking a dribble of line. Smiling, I pressed down again, this meter squeezing with all my might, causing her oculus to extend to their maximum extent, her backtalk opening wide to complete an formula of utter agony. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to capture that spirit for me.
But time was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could return at any import to play mayhem on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the blood from her tits on her torn burqa, before beginning to rip the balance of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her understructure, 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 garb, I moved higher, till my tempestuous visage was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any excuses, I'd landed to hard slaps on her cheeks, causing one to turn dreary. ancestry erupted from her lip, which I sucked away before tearing the quietus of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a compact fabric that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her waist. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely legs to my gaze. Grabbing the sparse brown ankles, I forcibly pulled her legs apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a vain try to invoke herself from the dusty ground, but one operose punch on her savourless bay window ended such ambitions instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and shaggy-coated, making me wonder if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a clean puss. Grabbing a fistful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to derail on her ass in pain. Another clump came off, then another, till her skin was irritated and bloody, while rip freely ran down the red and blue streaks on her cheeks.
My tool was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding garb. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her question in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"manhood, and quite thick too. Her heart followed my dick in unbelief as it made its way towards her tight cunt. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll pull my dry orifice. Please, at least lubricate it."She realized the implication of her request too late. My pecker traced a track of pecum over her belly and pap as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her lips. This prison term I didn't even listen to her pathetic requests, the present moment her mouth opened for an entreaty my dick went in. As her eyes bulged along with her mistreated cheeks, I felt a tight moist feeling engulf my dick. tidal bore for more, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the back of her school principal. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my shaft as it pressed against her skull. In this positioning, 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 rima oris, making it nice and wet for her chthonic lip.
I don't think she'd ever taken a dick in her sassing before, for she was soon gagging, trying to rock her foreland. This had the effect of causing my dick to slap against the interior of her nerve, which had presumably been damaged by my severely slap. She winced and gave up the endeavour, breathing through her nose as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her mean mouth with greater zip, but careful not to cum yet. I'm sure she'd have hoped at some point 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 pecker out of her blackguard brim, and aiming it at her cunt. Her sass was not yet adequate to of speaking, and I used this muteness to mean she was prepared for her vaginal invasion.
As with every ravishment I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any hint of affection. In one Dean 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 stripe on my rooster, before burying it fully into her pussy. She had been right about her twat, it was remarkably pixilated. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to crap the most out of this stroke of fortune. Still marvelling at the tightness of her jam, I grabbed the side of her second joint, and gradually pulled out, only to crusade back again with enceinte force.
My lover howled in botheration, shaking her head and making tongue-tied movements with her branch as she tried in vain to escape from the searing agony that must experience been pulsing through her eubstance from her vagina. I now began to fuck her with greater force-out, pummeling her tummy and tits every time she tried to shift herself. A slight sound told me I'd likely broken one of her ribs, but I didn't'care - she existed for my pleasure, and I was getting it. It was as if her body was designed to render me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain, for as she screwed up her center and screamed into the sky, her pussy muscles seemed to squeeze me gruelling 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 sass to accept me again, this time with no promise of any tenderness.
Farhana was especially secure, and I came for a long time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the young of my company, staring at me with eyes that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a commodity lad, having saved my spirit in a late sortie when a horseman almost had me from the back. He had been left to guard the unveiling to the village, and though this was customary for the untested of the mob, he clearly rued the missed chance. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in shame and walked off. That's when I decided that Farhana had one pickle left still. I called out to Yaldir.
The lad turned around abruptly, his face clearly showing the punishment a somebody found spying on his gaffer ( even if he was fucking a captive in the open ) could expect. Instead he heard his chieftain calling upon him to show his manliness to the cyprian who'd birthed the enemy offspring. For a second he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to have thought her ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a virile Pres Young man join her raper, she began to crawl away, her eyes showing a despair seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his boss'fancy woman, whether to grab and rape her or to await for me to conduce 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 physique with appreciation. Nodding at him to remove his clothes, I pulled the woman towards me, throwing away the remnants of her burqa. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to examine her ass hole as Yaldir's 7 inch putz was exposed. I signalled him to commence with her backtalk as I began to prepare for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some kind of referee during this phase angle of her ravishment. These hope would have been rudely shatter when I pressed my dick against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my finger. Yaldir had already made his way into her viva voce orifice, her body gently rocking as he fucked her. For a bit I wished I'd used her back talk in this position, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the early bridge player aimed directly at her puckered brown hole. The slime from her oral fissure and pussy and my cock still there to act as lubricator, I plunged my penis into her last virginal kettle of fish.
Farhana would have screamed had Yaldir not been taking her rima oris. In the event she gagged on his cock, causing him to overstretch out. This led to her completing her wow, before I signalled him to push his putz back in. On my part, her back entrance, even tighter than her pussy, coupled with the musical screaming emanating from her mouth, caused my dick to season inside her body. This growth made her ass seem all the more squiffy, her anal muscles likely tearing as they suffered the beginning intrusion of her short life history.
My pleasure, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the coming into court of Mirwaiz, who was our chief sentry. He had just gotten news show that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't stay aloof from the sex scene unfolding before him. I handed him my Equus caballus whip, instructing him to worst her across her back, but avoid our cocks or her workforce and legs.
The first reverse of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew better than to overstretch out this time, instead enjoying the superfluous constriction of her throat. At the Sami time the pressure of her anal brawn on my dick was improbable. Timing my following slash for the adjacent blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating compounding of a woman's anal retentive muscular tissue squeezing one's peter desperately as the midst corded lash landed on her thinly waist. I pulled out and ( belt ! ) slammed in again. whack whack knock. Her whiten buns was developing red welt, which crisscrossed, roue erupting at the crossings. Whack on her berm blades, whack on her lower backbone, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a calendar method of birth control by now, fucking her like a retentive pole with our pecker buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our bodies and Mirwaiz's party whip forming an orchestra of which the legal instrument was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached climax, forcing the others to keep back in melodic line, forcing the whore between us to adjust till she could adjust no to a greater extent. As a whip appeared right across her get down rachis to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him close his oculus in ecstacy, holding Farhana's head to his groin as he came in her sass. As he finished up, I realized I too could not hold for long. Taking a smaller whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to kibosh. Instead I aimed the whip straight across her book binding and brought it down upon all her other wounding with tremendous military unit. Her voice rang out across the Baroness Dudevant as her ass squeezed down on my cock like a velvet vice. My self-control collapsed, the flood lamp logic gate opening in her asshole as I whipped her again and again like a useless scuff, causing her anal brawn to spasm, milking my cock for all it was worth. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to glide by out on the ground.
You may ask what I did thereafter ? Well, Farhana was half suddenly by this time, so we hoisted her up over the edge of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly gained consciousness as the metallic element tip ripped through her bowels, spewing blood down the calamus of the fizgig. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her humbled castanets, it got wedged among her rib, preventing her from dying a fast dying. I left her there, staring at me with half glass over eyes as her ass leaked cum and her pussy blood.
It was by now metre to go back. Some of the former fair sex who'd been used by the raiders were similarly dispatched. The putz of a spear broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. medical knowledge being what it is, we left her wish that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody ground. While we were fucking, three more charwoman had been caught from a nearby b. One of them was a very curtly thin girl, barely 18, with little of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddleback well, and it fell upon her to lie flavourless on the sawbuck's back her slit accessible to my tool. The other women were either tied and put in the domestic ass cart or, in case of one who'd bitten a pillager, dragged behind the handcart.
It was a pleasurable ride back, my stopcock sawing in and out of her tight porta as I rode on the horse. It was a exceptional foreman's privilege ( not formally of track ) to rape a woman on horseback, and as I pumped my load into her defenceless pussy, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a really chief of my tribe. Sadly, my luck was different.
The first signs of the ill twist were received in the very time of day I returned from this excellent raid. A few of our award horse had been stolen by another tribe, and the pursuing company had been killed in armed combat. Among them was my 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 gaffer'hut, where worried and unquiet faces met me.
"Rashid, do you cognise what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the flow heading of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were mutter of annoyance at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to take care. Instead he told the group about the horses ( and cleaning lady ) I'd captured during the raid. virtually of them listened to the inside information with unusual interest, the reason for which became authorise only when I learnt that the raid by the regular leader on a different tribe had been a signal bankruptcy.

I'm not one to gloat over my victory, rather I'd prefer to manoeuvre into another battle. This sentence however, the next battle came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich Khan, an elder who had a transmissible dislike for my family, stood up"My comrade, it becomes clear that the rash activeness of this young man are the rationality behind the unsuccessful person of our raid today. He took our well horses, reduced our Book of Numbers, and forced the elders to aggress a lesser place."
I was stunned. The buck belonged to us, captured personally by me and my supporter during the previous raids. As for the men, it was an subject mystery that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a articulation choked with wrath I pointed this out. His argument was even more ridiculous as the onset on a lesser sphere had failed. But the elders were by now looking at me with a mix of bitterness and anger, which I found difficult to debar. My drive was further harmed by the fact that whereas my detractors had a honest funding 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 kin group. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But records tell us there were only three people in the group that arrived. Where did the one-fourth go ?"
Rashid looked with a sullen grammatical construction at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the story ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you verbalize 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 leave within twenty four hours. All our cattle were taken away in payoff for the paltry sum of 5000 dirhams. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse. To name affair defective, as I was leaving, that motherfucker again spoke up
‘ And accept your trollop sis with you. We don't want her ruining our boy'manhood."
I took it as an offhand insult. Cursing the state of social function, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the decision, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would induce succeeded, had it not been for that vilification turning out to be avowedly.
My domicile back then was at the bound of a minor ridge, a dip from which would not kill you but break your arm. It was separated from the small town proper by a low length which housed the stalls of the tribe. As I checked on my horse to make trusted it was in secure health should I actually have to evacuate the future day, I was surprised to find the sound of a girl coming from behind them.
Wondering what on solid ground was happening in my own tribal base of operations, I peered round off the edge of the stable, and was stunned to find my Old sis with a man. high-risk, not only was she stark au naturel but he was in fact a member of one of our rival tribe, one which had waged a war of retribution against us not long ago. He must give 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 hole.
Uptil that time I'd known myself as a equilibrate person, one who could control himself and his ira. That was the first fourth dimension I lost this self ascendence, and all because of a stupid slut of a sister. Letting out a bellow, I had my sword in my hand before either of them were cognizant 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 baby's terrified face, slicing her lover's neck opening into two His head, the expression of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the primer coat even as his organic structure continued to nip from the miscellany of ejaculation and destruction muscle spasm.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to force him out. This she did in a fog, her centre filling up with tears at this violent tour of events. I would throw strangled her to Death then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very moment. worsened, it was the cousin of that old farting, Qaglich khan.
The scrawny bastard had been watching the minutes even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a legal brief while from his hiding topographic point behind a rock. I brandished my sword at him, and he ran straight into a Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree. Getting up, he ran again till he was out of good deal. I knew the elders would be hot upon the scent the consequence the kid went and told them.
To take a leak matter bad, she had, in her reckless warmth, headed behind the stables leaving her wearing apparel behind a shrub that was in the present luck a naut mi off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her clothes, but saw a crowd gathered there by the time I returned. The kid had cooked up as tarradiddle 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 elderberry bush before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my heart now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very little influence on the head of the prejudiced minds of the elders. When that pudden-head fart called Qaglich spoke of how the spirits were distressed with me and my family, it was the end of any hopes I may have hitherto entertained. Worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the women of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral acts unbecoming of a great tribe.
You'd understand that the pain was nothing to me, hell, I'd felt a good deal greater pain in combat. It was the mortification that hurt me almost. That old flatus's son wielded the whip, and fifty throw were what I got, swearing to revenge each one of them on the cause of my shame. 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 elders agreed on condition that we packed up and left before dayspring the succeeding day.
My back burning, I headed back with my gunny poke covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The import we got home, she landed hard on the floor from a backhand slap on her mediocre buttock. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the woman 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 come apart quiescency room for the female person that she began to sob. I was too puddle to think about the future immediately, rather I wanted to punish the prostitute. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like hawks, causing me to consecrate my prison term and attention to the undertaking of packing affair. Not that there was much to pack. We aren't a rich tribe, and ever since my Padre was removed matter have gotten unsound - he atleast knew how to merchandise.
As I tended to the horse and domestic ass, getting them ready, my female parent and sis packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a street corner crying, too stunned by the brutal end of her devotee to react. The packing was done by midnight, and we were ready to leave by the time the first-class honours degree ray of the sun were breaking through the furrowed hill 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 little girl upon being discovered bare.
The villagers gave us none of the customary salutation given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few stones behind our van ( my female parent had persuaded the chief's wife to two camels instead of the domestic ass, we had originally owned four horses and four camels apart from the Equus asinus ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge expanse that covers two thirds of our country.
As the palisade wall grew pocket-size, I turned back to the three womanhood in the cover, and was annoyed to feel the elder of my stair sis clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my ire, and sought to intercede.
‘ Please she's a young girl, hand her a chance."
"hazard. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to take lashes from that half breed Qaglich's wimp. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M jr. stepsister was weeping silently, hugging the older one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the crazy route was all that lay ahead and behind us. The next closure was a goodness twenty miles away. I decided this was as salutary a time as any to punish my whore sister. Stopping my horse, I asked the woman to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the new girl by her longsighted fuzz and pulled her down onto the hot sand, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old char came next, pulled bodily down and thrown away. The hussy, whose epithet was Sahiba, crawled away from my grasp till I grabbed her butt and pulled her towards me.
She made one last drive to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the facial expression, knocking one-half her white tooth down her pharynx. Blood erupted from her mouth, as she fell to her knees, her hands folded as she begged me with wide of the mark eyes. For the first, and last time in my life, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish nerve like her female parent, she had all-inclusive browned eyes and tomentum that could pass of as brown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the dead body. Good enough for a ravishment, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the tomentum, I yanked her up. Her hands flew to her abused mane, her back talk, resembling that of a 7 twelvemonth old child now, making maunder stochasticity. I held her up before me, looking into the frightened center, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lashes, the expulsion and the gloating face of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My hand almost dropped her as the military force of my smacking on her impertinence rocked her thin body. Sir Thomas More blood line erupted from her face, her eyes now screwed up in pan from the miscellany of fear and pain.
As the early two female looked on in threat, I threw her on the ground, landing three surd kicks on the burqa fit out figure. She rolled into a foetal position, her expression wrinkled by an expression of ague pain. You'd ask me how I could punish my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would have punished a grand of my sis like that, and worse, if they did anything of the sort. Plus I'd never regarded them as sisters, or my stepmother as my mother. They simply existed so I could do my duty to the kindred while they did the employment at home.
Hence I felt no pricks of that thing you call moral sense as I watched the female writhe in agony on the hot sand. In fact, I landed another gruelling on her ribs, causing a cracking sound. She looked at me with an formulation of awe and horror, never having expected her own"brother"to be so roughshod. At that present moment however, I felt gnarly bridge player on my chest, and looked up to see"female parent"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not belt down 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 mercy. She returned to Anima, the younger girl, and both resumed their weeping.
The girl had lain on the ground for some time now, and in spite of her pain, must have realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to fawn away, a look of pure desperation on her face. If she'd shown the like desperation while trying to reject 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 peculiar aim apart from punishing her to the fullest extent potential. It was likely she wouldn't survive the ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a whore to die for shaming her family. Unfortunately for her, as she made another attempt to creep away, the turn down part of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty thigh to my gaze. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see to a greater extent of her body.
Back in the small town I would possess abstained from any such action, as that may have earned me an forcing out as well. Now however, there was no one for miles around, and she was not the rude vernal girl but a sobbing brute who would anyhow be punished. Might as well wee-wee this punishing body of work a little more enjoyable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot ground as she saw me twist 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 fabric of the burqa was comparatively melt off, causing it to bust in my hands, leaving her ass exposed to my gaze. Amid renewed howling and cuss from the adult female that had birthed the cyprian and her babe, I pulled Sahiba up by her waist.
The hot grit helped again, for it burnt her disclose skin, causing her to willingly provide me to clean her up. Infact, I soon had the girlfriend in my arms, having spared her the torture of the hot guts. Her terrified eyes, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the terror of returning to the hot George Sand bed. As she considered the choice in that stupid head of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood line in those full pink flower petal for the first and live clip. She resigned herself to the osculation, preferring it to the scene of being brutally raped on the soil. But I had no intent of sparing her any of her suffering. Pulling away, I ripped off the remainder of her burqa as she danced on the hot sand, then threw her hard on the earth again.
Her scream wasn't as tuneful as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dingy bareness of the desert. I kicked the writhing figure on the ground right in between her pegleg, eliciting another melodious howl from my"baby ”. Much as she'd have liked to continue in the curled up position she now assumed, the sand would not let her. Unwindng she made a despairing attempt to take to the woods. This only placed her in a temp doggie style, allowing me to press my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the ground. As her body met the earth again, she screamed, this time begging me to kill her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend decent metre punishing her, and the sun was getting high over our heads. Soon, she would be roasting on the sand if she lay there : I had to displace fast. She was again in a crawling post, almost up on her feet this metre. 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 come up the younger sister turn up, pulling in vain at my strong arms as they held her slut sis. As I finally began dragging her back, I felt a burn pain in my wrist. The bitch had bitten me !
TO make matters uncollectible, the slut cocotte, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to go bad free and run even as her sister remained latched onto my bloody radiocarpal joint. Smarting under the pain in the neck in my carpus, I broke free from the younger girl with a arduous puncher to her belly, before giving following to my fleeing captive. She did not make it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could make off on my buck. As she learnt to her dismay, the cavalry was more loyal to me than she had been, and refused to shift. Her clumsy pull at its reins caused it to land a operose squawk on one of her legs, causing her to collapse on the sand. I reached her and landed half a XII hard kicks on every part of her body, breaking her teeth, ribs and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the strength to get up from the Sand though it was turning her spinal column from a bright red to brown.
cachexy no Thomas More clip, I kicked her legs apart and give up my member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the prospect of fucking a fresh snatch. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her whore hole as she continued to writhe in pain. Like Farhana she could not turn out to look into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this clip I didn't military unit her to. Instead I grabbed her sarcoid mounds, smaller than Farhana's, but bigger than the average cunt you find in those parts. Mauling and pinching them surd, I looked at her face, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the verge of passing out from the pain in her pubes and in her back, forcing me to slap her a few times to ensure she felt every moment of her agony.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her pussy for some time. It was tight, warm and had it not been the exposed desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken bang-up pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her good luck charm, especially the periodical squeeze on my peter when her already roasting bod touched more blacken George Sand, or my manus played with the assorted persona of her slutty dead body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the circumstances a dear affair as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speed, my thrusts causing her to rock like a rag dame on the ground, her centre rolling in her fountainhead from the vivid pain in the neck in her body. On purpose I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the Baroness Dudevant myself while forcing her to press down upon it even as my thrusts caused her delicate skin to rub against the harsh grains. As I approached orgasm, she again appeared to be passing out, and this time I had to take hold of her nipples, pulling her up by their weight unit. Any relief this would have given her from the sand was more than made up by the agony in her breasts, for she howled out like a cream dog. Her pussy clenched tighter than ever on my cock, asking for her"brother's"seeded player. My hammer obliged, exploding in her cunt with an intensity which caused the desert and the heat to melt for a moment as I was lost in pure blissfulness.
I came for what seemed like an timeless existence. By the time I was done she had passed out, but had a faint heart rate. Not wishing to consume any of our wanted water on the whore, I instead pulled her onto the horse like the cunt the day before, signalling to the two sobbing cleaning woman to keep up. They had little choice in the affair, complying with my command like two thrashed donkeys. Satisfied that it was leaving cipher to the desert apart from the smidge of Sahiba's burka, I mounted my Equus caballus, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a small goody for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to move however, turned the slut ‘ sister'over, so that her fair nipple were replaced by the brownish-red back. Spreading her ass face, I aimed my cock at her put up entrance. She offered no dynamic immunity, still being passed out. Her prick was surprisingly leisurely to pervade, making me wonder if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibility, I pushed my solidification hammer into her bunghole. Satisfied that it was indeed inwardly, I raised her hands and tied them behind my neck. This put her weight upon my neck opening, but it was the only solvent as she wasn't as shortsighted as that other slit. It had the supply attraction of causing an intense pain in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was quick, I took control of the sawhorse with one hand and my legs, having been trained to burn obeisance from horseback in this manner. The free hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a trot, resuming the journey across the barren wastes at the headspring of my"family ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive unfavorable judgment and hint, including how the plot of ground should proceed, are always welcome. repugnance, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for reading .