this chronicle was written based on the ideas of a reviewer. However the game and verbal description are mine. it contains extreme force and harshness. Please note that the author wishes to depict a fictitious world which has no connection to any topographic point, somebody or opinion whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme violence, including murder and mutiliation, do n't read this. If you can take it, hope you enjoy it.
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The medical specialist
"Good evening Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chairwoman looked up with half close down middle, the tiny torch in the room insufficient to tell his expression. The man circling him however, did not seem to postulate such information, he had all he wanted. Well almost.
"What do you need ?"asked the man in the chairman, getting up menacingly."How did you get in here ?"
"Wouldn't it be wiser to ask who we are ? Or do you already get laid ?"the well-dressed man who'd been circling the onetime, 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 dear matter about you, and we're impressed. But before we can trust you, we'd like the whole story."
"If you know so a great deal already, I've nothing more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to know. Now get the screwing out of here."He took two quick stone's throw towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a cryptical soft touch on your articulatio radiocarpea, Mr Rashid. caution 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 cave in the details. And yes, you can have a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the room for more assaulter. He quickly noticed two more blocking the threshold to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's inherent aptitude 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 confide you with the whole story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the following Rashid"
"fine, amercement. Where do I begin ? You know I'm not a indigen, my skin colour says as a good deal. You would also bonk by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a unredeemed piazza filled with naught but hitman and moxie. And oh yes, a few dozen tribes always at each other's throats. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call it the Jamalliya federation of tribes.
My dad was a closemouthed relative of the headman, so I'd a good chance of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the former class feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My mother gave me to a congeneric who's husband and son had been killed during a Holocene maraud. I never saw my mother again. My new family consisted of two female child and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the miss grew curved shape and I developed musculus. But in these waste lands there's footling time to love kin sprightliness, and men and women are generally expected to endure apart and do their own oeuvre. If you excel in your oeuvre, you get a position on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your family taken away.
There's little to distinguish oneself in in those waterless domain beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing children, if you're a char. I had potential in the old, having learnt to drive a sawbuck by the prison term I was ten, and could shoot from the saddle by 16. I also had a fell streak, they used to say. When we raided the small town of the enemy kinship group ( and once a foreigners'oil company office ), the men used to first bolt down all adult male, then take the women. By women I mean any pussy that was ten eld and above. We were left with the eternal sleep. Among them were the old adult female and the tiddler. I developed a habit of plunging my steel into the bellies of those old men and cleaning lady, hearing them scream in their roughened phonation before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the straits of my putting to death 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 char ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs existent resplendency if he's to get hold a position of power in the tribe. All the more so in my case since there were those who were determined to prevent me getting the headship. So I formed my own radical of freebooter, composed of men of my age. With them I used to raid the small town without supporting, sometimes being forced to withdraw when matter got too hot. At other times however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended village who's fair sex had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
starting time we would go from house to home, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leaders, I didn't fiat all the teenaged boys to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their endowment, made voice of our group. The char on the other hand, were grouped by age. The sure-enough died first, their bodies having nothing to declare oneself in return for sparing their lives. I followed the usual method acting of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up mamilla, watching them implode in a bloody raft as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, golden showers erupted from between their legs.
The second group consisted of women between 30 and fifty, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but youthful enough to be raped. They were tied by their custody to the pole, their rear end either resting on the basis or raised in the air. Their peg were then stretched till they touched those of the future woman ; these were then tied, forming a long line of bound cleaning woman with display cunt. Leaving two to three men in heraldic bearing of the unseasoned group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to business. Each woman was different to be good, and most taste to pay their near to persuade us to let them dwell. Some however, glared at us as we violated their to the highest degree cozy orbit. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the assault resumed again.
I could tell you about a XII or so women who stood out for their exceptional tightness and indeed, performance on my cock. Sadly a skillful bulk of them must throw been prudes, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 year old cleaning 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 twist 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 fondness itself and blurt out to the spirit of a dying charwoman spasming on your stopcock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the all-fired ejaculate from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to kill them directly, beheading them with one quick stroke of my sword. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on moving-picture show have you ? Well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the clip we'd learnt to ride a horse, so to verbalise. And there's something unequalled about the way her ponderous head, eye still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big daily round ball placed atop a slight receptacle. If you were good enough, you could grab the nous as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your early mitt into the mild cervix as well.
Anyway, once the second base group had been raped, and a dear many killed off, the few who wanted to take souvernirs did so, chopping off limbs, brain ( if they'd gutted the woman ) and tits as the rest of us surveyed the most crucial of the three groups. This finale group consisted of the young females, from zero to twentynine. The item was to get the women who could be future breeder, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raid meant passing of good female for all tribes. We had to insure females from others if we were to go at all.
There were women in our tribe who would scrutinise the huddled females and adjudicate who was fertile who was not. For the second however, it was the physical attributes such as the curve of the waist, the free weight of the chest ( verified by ripping off the burka ) and the wideness of the thigh, which decided who would get whom. Being the loss leader of the crew, I got the first filling. The ones I picked were usually not more than 20, though I didn't rape women new than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the C. H. Best stuff, the I whose intemperate tits hung like good melons on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My pick had flimsy waistline, preferably with long hair that covered their cover. And I liked women who were a little feisty.
One such feisty char 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 striver brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the Edward White colour of the upright of them, with milky breast that defy gravity ? Do you notice the way they stand, their rosehip thrust out waiting for a man to cover them ? have you noticed the look of lustful love in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a tad 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this time I was 21, about 6'4 and to a greater extent sinewy than any in my pack. My"female parent"said I was handsome. It didn't thing when we raided though. The raid that caught Farhana was a particularly arid one, yielding just four rich females and an old beldam we tied to the back of the donkey cart carrying the adult female. Someone said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more appealing by her exquisite oriental person nerve and large eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the middle of her small hut, defending a little 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 poor hamlet, lacking even a good stables. 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 background, her burqa lifting to register her thin white stage. Giving a warning glower to the others, I asked them to take their own adult female and get down to make for.
For my section I prevented her from getting up by placing a invertebrate foot on her venter, gently pressing her down feather. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her hands to scratch me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few bang on her slim down waist. Pointing my brand at her bureau, I forced her to look the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that point, was over. She continued to glower at me, but this clip I did not dim her. Instead I stared directly into her eye, boring into them, making my supremacy and index over her imperfect physique letters patent.
She couldn't keep up the intensity for long, looking away with a face that said she'd tacit what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my metrical unit, I lowered myself beside her. password were unacceptable as the screams of the remainder of the char drowned any speech. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a woman with his sword handle, as the horrified woman looked on, thinking he was about to impale her. He saw me looking, and mouthed the words"Eventually I would. She's not that good."
I laughed, and looked down upon my own quarry. She'd lain silently at my foundation, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't care, ripping off her instrument of modesty in a brutal move that casued some of her hair to snap off as well. I pocketed it as a souvenir. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the dust as it spread out in voluptuous bend around her head. Her back talk were wide and pink, the way l liked them.
immobilisation her mitt with mine, I lowered myself till her knocker touched my bureau, her human face just inches away from my hungry brim. Pressing down further, I touched my lips with hers. They were like soft petal, parting at my soupcon to allow me to suckle them, as a literal fan would. Parting them further, I probed deeper with my spit, loving the way her mouth tasted. I sought out her clapper, finding the Hammond organ as it sought to avoid contact, but it could scarcely escape. Instead it was forced to play with mine as I forced her to search at me. Those beautiful brown heart were now filled with a plea, a charwoman's plea to be treated like a married woman. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the Leslie Townes Hope round to ashes in those brown consortium. My lip parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my hand on the cone shape my chest had felt earlier. They were flabby and boastfully, like soft purse waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused hired hand. Grabbing her thin burqa, I began to rip it off. The glare in her centre returned, but it was immediately replaced by a debile plea"Please not in populace. Not like this."I continued to tear away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her second joint. Pushing the soft black-market material away, I quickly disposed of her slight undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent pap to my hungry gaze.
They stood up like small hills even as she lay prostrate, making me marvel how practically they'd have stood out had she not obliterate them under her burka when I dragged her out. I couldn't control myself as I grabbed her puffy brown mammilla, each a liquorice nub an inch and a half farsighted, pulling them hard. Her voice joined the chorus line of shrieking around us, but I could still make out her melodic screeching."Please maestro, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my ribbon on the tang, enjoying the feel of their gruelling crown. Pressing down till my finger's breadth covered her entire mounds, I began to pull the physique into my palm, till my finger's breadth were buried in her pectus, clamping her core into my vice like men.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the silky flesh against my rough hired hand. The sight too was splendid, her fair flesh exposed and abused by my tumid ribbon as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the deep red marks made on her tits, one of which was leaking a trickle of rip. Smiling, I pressed down again, this time squeezing with all my might, causing her center to widen to their utmost extent, her brim opening wide to fill in an formula of utter torment. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to capture that look for me.
But clip was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could riposte at any moment to wreak havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the blood from her nipple on her torn burka, before beginning to rip the difference of that useless garment away. This required the release of her feet, and the minute I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed boot hit me on the olfactory organ. Stopping my rape on her dress, I moved higher, till my furious physiognomy was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any excuses, I'd landed to hard slap on her nerve, causing one to wrick blue. Blood erupted from her lips, which I sucked away before tearing the balance of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a thickset material 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 slim down brown ankle, I forcibly pulled her legs apart, causing her to flinch and whimper. She made a vain attempt to leaven herself from the dust-covered background, but one surd poke on her flat tummy ended such ambition instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and bushy, making me wonder if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a blank pussy. Grabbing a smattering of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to derail on her ass in pain. Another clump came off, then another, till her pelt was irritated and bloody, while tears freely ran down the red and blue streaks on her cheeks.
My dick was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding attire. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her head in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"humanity, and quite deep too. Her middle followed my putz in disbelief as it made its way towards her tight cunt. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll snag my dry opening. Please, at least lube it."She realized the entailment of her request too late. My dick traced a lead of pecum over her abdomen and tits as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her sassing. This time I didn't even listen to her pathetic requests, the moment her mouth opened for an entreaty my dick went in. As her eyes bulged along with her abused cheeks, I felt a mean moist spirit steep my pecker. tidal bore for Thomas More, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the back of her head. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my lance as it pressed against her skull. In this berth, it'd be hard to push it down her throat, that'd have to be for later, For now I began to saw the portion that could go in, in and out of her mouth, making it overnice and wet for her nether lips.
I don't think she'd ever taken a dick in her mouth before, for she was soon gagging, trying to shake her headway. This had the effect of causing my dick to slap against the insides of her cheeks, which had presumably been damaged by my backbreaking slaps. She winced and gave up the attempt, breathing through her nose as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her mean oral cavity with greater vigour, but heedful not to cum yet. I'm sure she'd have hoped at some point in time 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 ill-use lips, and aiming it at her pussy. Her mouth was not yet able of speaking, and I used this secrecy 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 tenderness. In one swift stroke I was in, realizing only when I'd broken it than she had been a virgin. Pulling it out, I admired the red streaks on my stopcock, before burying it fully into her pussy. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably tight. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to defecate the most out of this solidus of fortune. Still marvelling at the minginess of her hole, I grabbed the side of her second joint, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with heavy force.
My lover howled in pain sensation, shaking her head and making incoherent movements with her branch as she tried in vain to get off from the searing agony that must have got been pulsing through her soundbox from her vagina. I now began to have a go at it her with greater force play, pummeling her corporation and tits every meter she tried to shift herself. A thin sound told me I'd likely broken one of her rib, but I didn't'care - she existed for my pleasure, and I was getting it. It was as if her consistency was designed to ply me pleasure directly in dimension to her bother, for as she screwed up her eyes and screamed into the sky, her kitty brawn seemed to squeeze me hard and harder, till she sent me over the edge. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this prison term I kissed her, forcing her step sassing to take on me again, this time with no hope of any tenderness.
Farhana was especially unspoiled, and I came for a long prison term. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the youngest of my caller, staring at me with eyes that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a just lad, having saved my lifespan in a late sortie when a horseman almost had me from the back. He had been left to guard the submission to the village, and though this was accustomed for the youngest of the ring, he clearly rued the lose chance. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in shame and walked off. That's when I decided that Farhana had one hollow left still. I called out to Yaldir.
The lad turned around abruptly, his boldness clearly showing the penalisation a person found spying on his chieftain ( even if he was fucking a prisoner in the undefended ) could expect. Instead he heard his chief calling upon him to register his manliness 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 have thought her ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a virile young man bring together her raper, she began to cringe away, her optic showing a despair seen in a cervid who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his boss'whore, whether to seize and rape her or to wait for me to precede the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knees, he grabbed her and knocked her pile. I walked over casually, surveying his physique with appreciation. Nodding at him to hit his clothes, I pulled the charwoman towards me, throwing away the remnants of her burqa. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to examine her ass jam as Yaldir's 7 inch cock was exposed. I signalled him to start with her mouth as I began to prepare for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some form of ref during this phase of her violation. These Leslie Townes Hope would have been rudely shattered when I pressed my dick against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my fingers. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral orifice, her consistency gently rocking as he fucked her. For a instant I wished I'd used her mouth in this lieu, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the other deal aimed directly at her puckered brown pickle. The slime from her sassing and pussy and my pecker still there to act as lube, I plunged my member into her in conclusion virgin hole.
Farhana would own screamed had Yaldir not been taking her mouth. In the outcome she gagged on his rooster, causing him to pull out. This led to her completing her scream, before I signalled him to push his dick back in. On my part, her backdoor, even tighter than her slit, coupled with the melodic scream emanating from her oral fissure, caused my cock to harden inside her body. This development made her ass seem all the more nasty, her anal sinew likely tearing as they suffered the first intrusion of her curtly life.
My pleasure, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the coming into court of Mirwaiz, who was our honcho scout. He had just gotten news that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't stay aloof from the sex prospect unfolding before him. I handed him my Equus caballus whip, instructing him to blister her across her dorsum, but avoid our pecker or her hands and ramification.
The first blow of the horsewhip made her gag and conflict again, but Yaldir knew better than to root for out this time, instead enjoying the extra constriction of her throat. At the same clock time the force per unit area of her anal muscles on my stopcock was unbelievable. Timing my future apoplexy for the future blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a woman's anal retentive muscles squeezing one's cock desperately as the thick corded whip landed on her thin out waist. I pulled out and ( belt ! ) slammed in again. whack rap rap. Her White person keister was developing red welts, which crisscrossed, pedigree erupting at the hybridisation. Whack on her shoulder blades, whack on her low-spirited binding, then diagonically across her nates. Yaldir and I had developed a round by now, fucking her like a farseeing perch with our stopcock buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our consistence and Mirwaiz's whip forming an orchestra of which the instrument was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached orgasm, forcing the others to keep in air, forcing the whore between us to adjust till she could adapt no More. As a whip appeared right across her lower back to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him come together his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's drumhead to his groin as he came in her rima oris. As he finished up, I realized I too could not entertain for long. Taking a belittled whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to barricade. Instead I aimed the whip directly across her cover and brought it down upon all her other wounds with howling force-out. Her voice rang out across the sands as her ass squeezed down on my cock like a velvet vice. My self-control collapsed, the inundation William Henry Gates opening in her cocksucker as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal retentive sinew to spasm, milking my cock for all it was Charles Frederick Worth. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to give-up the ghost 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 fizgig, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly realise consciousness as the metallic element tip ripped through her bowels, spewing ancestry down the light beam of the spear. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her lower bones, it got lodge among her rib, preventing her from dying a quick death. I left her there, staring at me with half glazed eyes as her ass leaked cum and her kitty-cat line.
It was by now prison term to go back. Some of the other women who'd been used by the plunderer were similarly dispatched. The shaft of a gig broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. Medical knowledge being what it is, we left her like that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody dry land. While we were fucking, three more women had been caught from a nearby barn. One of them was a very short thin girl, barely 18, with fiddling of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddleback well, and it fell upon her to lie flat on the horse's back her pussy accessible to my cock. The other cleaning lady were either tied and put in the donkey go-cart or, in display case of one who'd bitten a raider, dragged behind the cart.
It was a pleasurable ride back, my cock sawing in and out of her fuddled orifice as I rode on the knight. It was a particular chief's privilege ( not formally of class ) to assault a woman on horseback, and as I pumped my consignment into her defenceless slit, I felt that I'd finally become able of becoming a real chief of my tribe. Sadly, my fate was different.
The for the first time mansion of the ill wind were received in the very hr I returned from this fantabulous raid. A few of our prize cavalry had been stolen by another tribe, and the pursuing political party 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 concomitant as they saw fit, I headed straight for the chiefs'hut, where worried and dying faces met me.
"Rashid, do you know what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the electric current head of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were murmur of botheration at my abrupt response, but Qader Jan didn't seem to mind. Instead he told the grouping about the horse cavalry ( and adult female ) I'd captured during the maraud. Most of them listened to the item with unusual interest, the reason for which became crystallise only when I learnt that the maraud by the regular leaders on a different tribe had been a indicate failure.

I'm not one to gloat over my victory, rather I'd prefer to head into another battle. This fourth dimension however, the following battle came from an unexpected quartern. Qaglich khan, an elder who had a transmitted dislike for my family, stood up"My brethren, it becomes clear that the rash legal action of this young man are the reason behind the failure of our maraud today. He took our best horses, reduced our turn, and forced the elder to attack a lesser place."
I was stunned. The buck belonged to us, captured personally by me and my friends during the previous raids. As for the men, it was an open secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a voice choked with anger I pointed this out. His argument was even more preposterous as the approach on a lesser area had failed. But the elder were by now looking at me with a mix of rancour and ire, which I found difficult to fend off. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my detractors had a ripe backing in the council, I had none. The debate were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no motive to describe the tribal debate in detail. You were thrown out shortly prior to the annihilation of your kindred by the Yalitiz kin. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But records tell us there were only three masses in the grouping that arrived. Where did the fourth go ?"
Rashid looked with a sullen look at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the tale ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you speak Rashid. Please continue."
"Fine. Have it your way, the sooner we're done the proficient. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decision was taken, I was asked to leave within twenty four time of day. All our cattle were taken away in return for the paltry sum of 5000 dirhams. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse. To piddle thing worse, as I was leaving, that asshole again spoke up
‘ And postulate your slut sister with you. We don't want her ruining our boys'manhood."
I took it as an offhand insult. Cursing the province of matter, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the conclusion, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would consume succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be true.
My home back then was at the edge of a small ridgeline, a autumn from which would not kill you but wear your limbs. It was separated from the village proper by a small distance which housed the stables of the tribe. As I checked on my horse to make certain it was in commodity wellness should I actually have to empty the next day, I was surprised to determine the strait of a young woman coming from behind them.
Wondering what on earth was happening in my own tribal home, I peered round the edge of the stable, and was stunned to witness my former sister with a man. unsound, not only was she gross defenseless but he was in fact a phallus of one of our competition folk, one which had waged a war of payback against us not long ago. He must have 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 balanced person, one who could control himself and his anger. That was the first time I lost this self ascendance, and all because of a dullard slut of a baby. Letting out a holla, I had my blade in my hand before either of them were aware of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her pussy as I swept the brand in an arc an inch from my sis's terrified grimace, slicing her lover's cervix into two His head, the expression of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the ground even as his soundbox continued to twitch from the mixture of ejaculation and dying spasms.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to agitate him out. This she did in a fog, her eyes filling up with tears at this violent turn of events. I would have strangled her to dying then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very consequence. unfit, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich Khan.
The scrawny bastard had been watching the legal proceeding even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a brief while from his hiding office 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 sight. I knew the elders would be hot upon the scent the moment the kid went and told them.
To pee-pee matters worse, she had, in her foolhardy Passion, headed behind the horse barn leaving her clothes behind a shrub that was in the present circumstances a international mile off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her clothes, but saw a gang gathered there by the time I returned. The kid had cooked up as chronicle about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the enemy but preferred to confer with the elders before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my nerve now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very little influence on the minds of the prepossess judgement of the senior. When that stupid fart called Qaglich spoke of how the spirits were unhappy with me and my family, it was the end of any Hope I may have hitherto entertained. Worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the cleaning lady of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral acts unbecoming of a great tribe.
You'd understand that the pain was nix to me, underworld, I'd felt much greater infliction in scrap. It was the humiliation that hurt me most. That old fart's son wielded the whip, and L cerebrovascular accident were what I got, swearing to retaliate each one of them on the effort of my shame. There was lecture of stoning the whore to death, but I wanted to penalize her myself. So my friends were surprise when I asked that she be left alone. The elderberry bush agreed on circumstance that we packed up and left before dawn the next day.
My back burn, 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 mo we got family, she landed hard on the floor from a backhand stroke slap on her fair impudence. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the women of the kinship group so worked up. I explained in as many Logos that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the separate sleeping room for the females that she began to sob. I was too spend a penny to think about the future immediately, rather I wanted to penalize the cocotte. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like hawks, causing me to devote my time and aid to the task of packing thing. Not that there was much to pack. We aren't a racy federation of tribes, and ever since my founding father was removed things have gotten worse - he atleast knew how to trade.
As I tended to the horse and donkeys, getting them quick, my mother and baby packed up, the shamed one simply sat in a box weeping, too stunned by the brutish end of her lover to react. The packing was done by midnight, and we were ready to bequeath by the time the first beam of light of the sun were breaking through the furrowed Hill in the distance. It was cold, but I refused to let the perpetrator wear anything beyond the gunny bag she'd been given by one of the hamlet girls upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the customary salutation given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few stones behind our caravan ( my female parent had persuaded the chief's married woman to two camels instead of the donkey, we had originally owned four horses and four camels apart from the donkey ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge expanse that covers two thirds of our country.
As the palisade wall grew smaller, I turned back to the three adult female in the back, and was annoyed to find oneself the elder of my step Sister clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my ire, and sought to liaise.
‘ Please she's a young girl, commit her a chance."
"probability. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to take lash from that half breed Qaglich's WIMP. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M younger half sister was weeping silently, hugging the sure-enough one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the half-baked route was all that lay ahead and behind us. The future stop was a in effect 20 miles away. I decided this was as good a sentence as any to penalize my whore babe. Stopping my horse, I asked the char to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the immature girl by her recollective hair and pulled her downwards onto the hot moxie, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old char came next, pulled bodily down and bewilder away. The strumpet, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my grasp till I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her towards me.
She made one terminal cause to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the case, knocking half her white teeth down her throat. line of descent erupted from her rima oris, as she fell to her human knee, her hands folded as she begged me with wide eyes. For the first, and last time in my life, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish face like her mother, she had wide brownish optic and hair that could pass of as brown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the body. Good enough for a rape, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the hairsbreadth, I yanked her up. Her hands flew to her abused head of hair, her mouth, resembling that of a 7 twelvemonth old child now, making mumbling dissonance. I held her up before me, looking into the scared centre, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lashes, the ejection and the gloating face of Qaglich had filled me with. slap ! My hand almost dropped her as the force of my slap on her impudence rocked her dilute organic structure. More roue erupted from her grimace, her eyes now screwed up in pan from the mixture of fear and pain in the neck.
As the early two female person looked on in terror, I threw her on the ground, landing three difficult kicks on the burqa clad figure. She rolled into a foetal position, her face wrinkled by an expression of acute accent pain. You'd ask me how I could punish my own baby like that. Well I have no incertitude I would experience punished a thou of my babe like that, and forged, if they did anything of the form. 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 tribe while they did the oeuvre at home.
Hence I felt no SOB of that thing you call conscience as I watched the female writhe in excruciation on the hot sand. In fact, I landed another hard on her rib, causing a cracking sound. She looked at me with an expression of awe and horror, never having expected her own"brother"to be so cruel. At that minute however, I felt gnarled helping hand on my pectus, 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 vernal little girl, and both resumed their cry.
The daughter had lain on the ground for some metre now, and in spite of her painful sensation, must have realized that the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to crawl away, a facial expression of utter desperation on her expression. If she'd shown the same despair while trying to resist that man, she wouldn't have suffered this fate. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this degree I'd had no particular aim apart from punishing her to the full extent possible. It was likely she wouldn't survive the ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a fancy woman to die for shaming her family. Unfortunately for her, as she made another endeavour to crawl away, the lower character of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty second joint to my gaze. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see more than of her body.
Back in the Village I would have abstained from any such legal action, as that may feature earned me an expulsion as well. Now however, there was no one for miles around, and she was not the rude vernal lady friend but a sob fauna who would anyhow be punished. power as well make this hard body of work a little more pleasurable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot ground as she saw me deform down. Did she carry 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 material of the burqa was comparatively thin, causing it to tear in my hands, leaving her ass exposed to my gaze. Amid renewed howling and jinx from the woman that had birthed the whore and her sis, I pulled Sahiba up by her shank.
The hot sand helped again, for it burnt her exposed skin, causing her to willingly allow me to pick her up. Infact, I soon had the girl in my coat of arms, having spared her the torture of the hot Baroness Dudevant. Her terrify eyes, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the brat of returning to the hot sand bed. As she considered the option in that stupid mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood in those full pink flower petal for the first and utmost metre. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the prospect of being brutally raped on the reason. But I had no intent of sparing her any of her agony. Pulling away, I ripped off the quietus of her burqa as she danced on the hot sand, then threw her hard on the ground again.
Her screech wasn't as tuneful as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dreary forlornness of the desert. I kicked the wriggling figure on the reason right in between her legs, eliciting another musical howl from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to stay in the curled up emplacement she now assumed, the grit would not let her. Unwindng she made a do-or-die endeavour to escape. This only placed her in a temporary barker trend, allowing me to press my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the priming. As her physical structure met the earth again, she screamed, this sentence begging me to vote out her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend enough fourth dimension punishing her, and the sun was getting high over our heads. Soon, she would be roasting on the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin if she lay there : I had to affect fast. She was again in a grovel post, almost up on her feet this time. I allowed her to get up, and run a few tempo, before grabbing her. She struggled fiercely, perhaps thinking she'd have made it if I'd let her go. As we scuffled, I was surprised to find the young Sister turn up, pulling in vain at my unassailable weapons system as they held her hussy sister. As I finally began dragging her back, I felt a burning pain in my articulatio radiocarpea. The gripe had bitten me !
TO make matters worse, the loose woman woman of the street, whom I was restraining, used my surprisal to check barren and run even as her baby remained latched onto my bloody articulatio radiocarpea. Smarting under the pain in my wrist, I broke free people from the new young lady with a hard puncher to her abdomen, before giving chase to my fleeing captive. She did not get it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could micturate off on my horse. As she learnt to her consternation, the horse was more patriotic to me than she had been, and refused to budge. Her awkward pulling at its reins caused it to land a operose kick on one of her legs, causing her to give on the sand. I reached her and landed half a dozen hard kicks on every component of her body, breaking her teeth, rib and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the military capability to get up from the sand though it was turning her binding from a bright red to brown.
atrophy no more than time, I kicked her pegleg apart and free my fellow member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the medical prognosis of fucking a fresh cunt. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her whore hole as she continued to wriggle in pain. Like Farhana she could not hold to look into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this time I didn't force-out her to. Instead I grabbed her sarcoid pitcher's mound, humble than Farhana's, but bigger than the average cunt you find in those office. Mauling and pinching them hard, I looked at her face, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the sceptre of passing out from the pain in her loins and in her back, forcing me to slap her a few times to ascertain she felt every second of her torturing.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her kitty for some meter. It was tight, warm and had it not been the open desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken greater delight in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her magic spell, especially the periodic power play on my cock when her already roasting flesh touched more scorching sand, or my hired hand played with the assorted parts of her slutty consistency. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the lot a good matter as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up velocity, my drive causing her to rock like a rag doll on the ground, her eyes rolling in her head from the intense pain in her physical structure. On determination I pressed down on her waistline, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to exhort down upon it even as my knife thrust caused her balmy skin to rub against the rough texture. As I approached orgasm, she again appeared to be passing out, and this clip I had to grab her mamilla, pulling her up by their free weight. Any relief this would have given her from the Baroness Dudevant was more than than made up by the agony in her breasts, for she howled out like a lam dog. Her cunt clenched tighter than ever on my tool, asking for her"crony's"germ. My hammer obliged, exploding in her twat with an saturation which caused the desert and the oestrus to disappear for a moment as I was lost in pure bliss.
I came for what seemed like an eternity. By the time I was done she had passed out, but had a faint beat. Not wishing to neutralize any of our cherished water on the cocotte, I instead pulled her onto the horse like the cunt the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to stick with. They had lilliputian choice in the matter, complying with my command like two thrashed donkey. Satisfied that it was leaving nothing to the desert apart from the shreds of Sahiba's burqa, I mounted my buck, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a small goody for the longanimity it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to move however, turned the slut ‘ sister'over, so that her fair tits were replaced by the brownish-red book binding. Spreading her ass buttock, I aimed my cock at her rear entrance. She offered no active immunity, still being passed out. Her motherfucker was surprisingly well-situated to get across, making me inquire if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibleness, I pushed my solidifying cock into her arse. Satisfied that it was indeed inside, I raised her hands and tied them behind my neck. This put her weight upon my neck, but it was the only solution as she wasn't as short-change as that other cunt. It had the added attraction of causing an vivid painfulness in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was prepare, I took ascendancy of the cavalry with one hired man and my stage, having been trained to fire bows from horseback in this manner. The free hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a trot, resuming the journeying across the wasteland wastes at the head of my"kin ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive unfavorable judgment and trace, including how the plot should proceed, are always welcome. mutual exclusiveness, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for recital .