this account was written based on the melodic theme of a reviewer. However the game and description are mine. it contains extreme point violence and pitilessness. Please tone that the author wishes to describe a fabricated mankind which has no connection to any place, person or sentiment whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme force, including murder and mutiliation, do n't take this. If you can take it, hope you enjoy it.
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The specialiser
"good even Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chair looked up with one-half shut eyes, the bantam Aaron's rod in the elbow room insufficient to differentiate his expression. The man circling him however, did not seem to need such information, he had all he wanted. Well almost.
"What do you desire ?"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 cognize ?"the well-groomed man who'd been circling the former, now stopped and asked.
"Yes I know who you are. But what do you want ?"
"Depends on whether we're satisfied with you. Suffice it to say that we've heard a lot of good things about you, and we're impress. But before we can trust you, we'd like the whole story."
"If you know so much already, I've cipher more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to fuck. Now get the shag out of here."He took two fast steps towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a deep fool on your wrist, Mr Rashid. attention to lead off 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 slew steel casually"kindly chip in the details. And yes, you can take a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the elbow room for more assailants. He quickly noticed two more blocking the doors to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's inherent aptitude told him they were armed. relief valve was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could trust you with the unscathed 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 native, my clamber colour says as much. You would also know by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a maledict place filled with nothing but guns and sand. And oh yes, a few dozen folk always at each early's pharynx. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call it the Jamalliya kin.
My dad was a closely relative of the chieftain, so I'd a full chance of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the other families 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 foray. I never saw my mother again. My new family consisted of two daughter and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the girls grew curves and I developed sinew. But in these waste lands there's little clock time to bask family life, and men and women are generally expected to endure apart and do their own work. If you excel in your oeuvre, you get a military 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 describe oneself in in those arid terra firma beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing tike, if you're a woman. I had potentiality in the onetime, having learnt to ride a horse by the time I was ten, and could burgeon forth from the saddle by 16. I also had a cruel run, they used to say. When we raided the villages of the foeman tribe ( and once a foreigners'oil company billet ), the men used to first vote down all adult male person, then take away the cleaning woman. By women I mean any pussy that was ten years and above. We were left with the rest. Among them were the old women and the children. I developed a habit of plunging my sword into the bellies of those old men and women, hearing them scream in their wacky voices before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the heads of my kill back to the village, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and fair sex killed during the raid.
Now you'd say, what glory is there in killing old women ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs veridical glory if he's to find a position of power in the tribe. All the more so in my casing since there were those who were determined to prevent me getting the headship. So I formed my own chemical group of plunderer, composed of men of my age. With them I used to raid the villages without support, sometimes being forced to back away when thing got too hot. At other clip however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended village who's char had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
First we would go from house to house, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leaders, I didn't order all the teenaged boys to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their endowment, made region of our mathematical group. The women on the former hand, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their soundbox having goose egg to offer 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 bloody mess as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, gilt showers erupted from between their legs.
The bit grouping consisted of women between 30 and L, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but young enough to be raped. They were tied by their hands to the poles, their asses either resting on the ground or raised in the air. Their legs were then stretched till they touched those of the succeeding woman ; these were then tied, forming a long telephone circuit of limit fair sex with let on pussies. Leaving two to three men in complaint of the youthful group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to business. Each cleaning lady was different to be honest, and most tried to grant their respectable to sway us to let them live. Some however, glared at us as we violated their almost intimate areas. This led to their being stabbed in the eye before the violation resumed again.
I could tell you about a dozen or so adult female who stood out for their olympian stringency and indeed, carrying into action on my cock. Sadly a good majority of them must have been prude, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 yr old woman ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a woman was blinded there was small use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a turn on her to taste her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd kill the balance. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a knife into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their heart itself and ejaculate to the feeling of a dying charwoman spasming on your cock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the bloody come from her gaping pit.
I preferred to kill them directly, beheading them with one straightaway stroke of my steel. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on picture show have you ? Well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the time we'd learnt to depend on a horse, so to utter. And there's something unique about the way her heavy head, eyes still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big bout testis placed atop a thin receptacle. If you were good enough, you could grab the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other hired man into the soft neck as well.
Anyway, once the second mathematical group had been raped, and a good many killed off, the few who wanted to shoot souvernirs did so, chopping off limb, foreland ( if they'd gutted the fair sex ) and tits as the eternal sleep of us surveyed the most crucial of the three group. This final group consisted of the vernal female, from zero to twentynine. The breaker point was to get the womanhood who could be future breeder, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raid meant loss of trade good female for all federation of tribes. We had to insure females from others if we were to survive at all.
There were women in our federation of tribes who would audit the huddle together female and settle who was fertile who was not. For the here and now however, it was the physical property such as the curve of the waist, the system of weights of the breasts ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the wideness of the second joint, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the mob, I got the foremost pick. The ones I picked were usually not more than 20, though I didn't assault women vernal than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the near clobber, the ones whose heavy tits hung like ripe melon vine on their bureau, just waiting to be plucked. My choices had sparse shank, preferably with recollective hair that covered their cover. And I liked cleaning woman who were a little feisty.
One such thin-skinned char was Farhana. I've forgotten what her folk was, we conducted so many raid you see. But she was a genuine beauty. Have you seen the female hard worker brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the Caucasian colour of the best of them, with milky white meat that defy gravitation ? Do you notice the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to breed them ? have you noticed the feel of lustful love in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a shade 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this time I was 21, about 6'4 and more than hefty than any in my crew. My"mother"said I was handsome. It didn't matter when we raided though. The raid that caught Farhana was a particularly desiccate one, yielding just four fertile females and an old witch we tied to the dorsum of the domestic ass cart carrying the charwoman. mortal said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explicate her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more appealing by her exquisite Oriental face and large centre.
I'd noticed her standing in the middle of her small hut, defending a unawares man of about forty. Once I'd dispatched of the Noel Coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the heart of the Village. This appeared to be a particularly poor village, lacking even a good stalls. Since there were so few women, we decided to simply fox them on the footing and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the primer, her burqa lifting to demonstrate her thin Caucasian legs. Giving a warning public eye to the others, I asked them to take their own womanhood and get down to go.
For my part I prevented her from getting up by placing a human foot on her belly, gently pressing her pile. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her manpower to scratch me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few kicks on her thin waist. Pointing my blade at her chest, I forced her to front the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that gunpoint, was over. She continued to glower at me, but this time I did not blind her. Instead I stared directly into her eyes, boring into them, making my supremacy and index over her fragile figure patent of invention.
She couldn't keep up the intensity for long, looking away with a expression that said she'd understood what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my metrical foot, I lowered myself beside her. news were unsufferable as the screams of the quietus of the women drowned any address. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a woman with his steel handle, as the horrified woman looked on, thinking he was about to impale her. He saw me looking, and mouthed the language"Eventually I would. She's not that good."
I laughed, and looked down upon my own quarry. She'd lain silently at my invertebrate foot, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't care, ripping off her instrument of modestness in a beastly relocation that casued some of her haircloth to bust off as well. I pocketed it as a souvenir. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the detritus as it spread out in princely folds around her promontory. Her lips were full moon and pink, the way l liked them.
Immobilizing her hands with mine, I lowered myself till her pap touched my bureau, her face just edge away from my hungry brim. Pressing down further, I touched my lips with hers. They were same soft petals, parting at my touch to allow me to suck them, as a real buff would. Parting them farther, I probed deeper with my spit, loving the way her sassing tasted. I sought out her lingua, finding the organ as it sought to avoid contact, but it could scarcely escape. Instead it was forced to toy with mine as I forced her to look at me. Those beautiful brown centre were now filled with a plea, a adult female's plea to be treated like a married woman. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the hope turn to ashes in those brown pools. My sass parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my hands on the cones my chest had felt earlier. They were soft and large, like diffuse pocketbook waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused hired hand. Grabbing her thin burka, I began to rip it off. The glare in her eyes returned, but it was immediately replaced by a weak supplication"Please not in public. Not like this."I continued to deplume away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thigh. Pushing the delicate pitch blackness textile away, I quickly disposed of her thin undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent bosom to my hungry gaze.
They stood up like small hills even as she lay flat, making me enquire how much they'd have stood out had she not cover them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't control myself as I grabbed her puffy dark-brown teat, each a liquorice nub an inch and a half foresightful, pulling them unvoiced. Her voice joined the Greek chorus of screams around us, but I could still progress to out her musical scream."Please professional, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palm tree on the tanginess, enjoying the feel of their hard tips. Pressing down till my finger covered her entire mounds, I began to root for the flesh into my palm, till my fingers were buried in her chest of drawers, clamping her meat into my vice like hand.
I stayed like that for a mo, loving the slick anatomy against my approximate work force. The sight too was magnificent, her comely flesh exposed and abused by my large palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the rich red marks made on her tits, one of which was leaking a trickle of rake. Smiling, I pressed down again, this clock time squeezing with all my might, causing her eye to let out to their upper limit extent, her lips opening full to complete an saying of utter agony. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to enamour that look for me.
But prison term was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could hark back at any present moment to wreak havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the pedigree from her teat on her lacerated burqa, before beginning to rip the remainder of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her feet, and the moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed beef hit me on the nose. Stopping my assault on her dress, I moved higher, till my angry visage was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any alibi, I'd landed to hard slap on her face, causing one to turn puritanic. stock erupted from her lips, which I sucked away before tearing the rest period of her burka off.
Her underskirt was made of a dense textile that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her waist. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely wooden leg to my regard. Grabbing the thin brown ankle, I forcibly pulled her legs apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a vain attempt to raise herself from the dusty ground, but one hard poke on her flat pot ended such ambitiousness instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her snatch. It was unkempt and bushy, making me inquire if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a unobjectionable twat. Grabbing a handful of her pubic bone I ripped them off, causing her to jump on her ass in hurting. Another clump came off, then another, till her skin was irritated and all-fired, while bust freely ran down the red and blue stripe on her impertinence.
My dick was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding dress. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her read/write head in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"manhood, and quite slurred too. Her eyes followed my dick in disbelief as it made its way towards her plastered snatch. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll tear my dry porta. Please, at to the lowest degree lube it."She realized the implications of her request too late. My dick traced a track of pecum over her belly and tits as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her brim. This time I didn't even listen to her pathetic requests, the mo her back talk opened for an entreaty my gumshoe went in. As her eyes bulged along with her misuse nerve, I felt a stringent moist tactile sensation immerse my dick. Eager for more, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the dorsum of her head. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my gibe as it pressed against her skull. In this position, it'd be hard to push it down her 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 oral fissure, making it gracious and wet for her chthonian lips.
I don't think she'd ever taken a dick in her mouth before, for she was soon gagging, trying to didder her psyche. This had the upshot of causing my tool to slap against the insides of her face, which had presumably been damaged by my knockout slaps. She winced and gave up the try, breathing through her nose as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her plastered mouth with big vigour, 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 cock out of her abused lips, and aiming it at her pussy. Her mouth was not yet able of speechmaking, and I used this silence to have in mind she was devise for her vaginal intrusion.
As with every violation I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any pinch 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 streak on my cock, before burying it fully into her cunt. 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 make the near out of this stroke of circumstances. Still marvelling at the tightness of her hole, I grabbed the sides of her thigh, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with not bad force.
My lover howled in pain, shaking her heading and making tongue-tied movements with her arm as she tried in vain to escape from the searing agony that must own been pulsing through her body from her vagina. I now began to make out her with greater force, pummeling her tummy and teat every fourth dimension she tried to transfer herself. A slim sound told me I'd likely broken one of her ribs, but I didn't'aid - she existed for my joy, and I was getting it. It was as if her consistence was designed to provide me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain, for as she screwed up her eyes and screamed into the sky, her pussycat muscles seemed to coerce me harder and harder, till she sent me over the edge. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this sentence I kissed her, forcing her abused rim to accept me again, this time with no hope of any warmheartedness.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a tenacious meter. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the youngest of my company, staring at me with eyes that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a good lad, having saved my life in a former sortie when a horseback rider almost had me from the back. He had been left to guard the entry to the Greenwich Village, and though this was customary for the youngest of the mob, he clearly rued the missed chance. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in pity and walked off. That's when I decided that Farhana had one muddle left still. I called out to Yaldir.
The lad turned around abruptly, his face clearly showing the punishment a person found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a captive in the opened ) could expect. Instead he heard his foreman calling upon him to show his manliness to the working girl who'd birthed the enemy young. For a moment he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to give birth thought her trial by ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a virile young man get together her rapist, she began to creep away, her middle showing a desperation seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his boss'working girl, whether to grab and rape her or to waitress for me to lead the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knees, he grabbed her and knocked her down. I walked over casually, surveying his flesh with grasp. Nodding at him to slay his clothes, I pulled the womanhood 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 cock was exposed. I signalled him to start with her mouth as I began to ready for the encroachment of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some variety of referee during this form of her infraction. These Bob Hope would have been rudely shattered when I pressed my shaft against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my fingers. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral examination orifice, her physical structure gently rocking as he fucked her. For a import I wished I'd used her back talk in this side, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the early hand aimed directly at her puckered brownness gob. The sludge from her mouth and pussy and my turncock still there to act as lubricator, I plunged my member into her last virginal maw.
Farhana would let screamed had Yaldir not been taking her sassing. In the event she gagged on his cock, causing him to draw in 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 snatch, coupled with the melodic screech emanating from her mouthpiece, caused my cock to harden inside her consistence. This growth made her ass seem all the Thomas More stiff, her anal muscles likely tearing as they suffered the first invasion of her short life.
My delight, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our boss scout. He had just gotten news that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't stop aloof from the sex fit unfolding before him. I handed him my knight whip, instructing him to scald her across her back, but avoid our cocks or her hired hand and legs.
The first blow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew better than to deplumate out this time, instead enjoying the extra constriction of her throat. At the same time the force per unit area of her anal sinew on my shaft was unbelievable. Timing my next cam stroke for the following coke, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a woman's anal heftiness squeezing one's turncock desperately as the midst corded whip landed on her thin waist. I pulled out and ( knock ! ) slammed in again. Whack whack whack. Her white stern was developing red welts, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the crossings. whack on her shoulder blades, rap on her lower rachis, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a rhythm by now, fucking her like a longsighted pole with our cocks buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our bodies and Mirwaiz's whiplash forming an orchestra of which the musical instrument was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached orgasm, forcing the others to save in melodic line, forcing the whore between us to aline till she could adjust no more. As a whiplash appeared flop across her lower vertebral column to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him close his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's nous to his bulwark as he came in her mouthpiece. As he finished up, I realized I too could not hold for long. Taking a smaller party whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to stop. Instead I aimed the whiplash straight across her back and brought it down upon all her former wound with tremendous force. Her voice rang out across the sands as her ass squeezed down on my cock like a velvet vice. My self-possession collapsed, the flood logic gate opening in her bunghole as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal muscles to spasm, milking my cock for all it was worth. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to excrete out on the ground.
You may ask what I did thereafter ? Well, Farhana was half beat by this time, so we hoisted her up over the edge of a fizgig, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly pull in awareness as the metal tip ripped through her bowels, spewing descent down the shaft of the fishgig. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her lower bones, it got lodge among her ribs, preventing her from dying a quick demise. I left her there, staring at me with half glazed center as her ass leaked cum and her pussy blood.
It was by now meter to go back. Some of the other women who'd been used by the raiders were similarly dispatched. The shaft of a fishgig broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. Medical noesis being what it is, we left her like that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody reason. While we were fucking, three Sir Thomas More woman had been caught from a nearby b. One of them was a very dead thin girl, barely 18, with piffling of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddle well, and it fell upon her to lie flat on the buck's back her pussy approachable to my shaft. The other char were either tied and put in the Equus asinus cart or, in eccentric of one who'd bitten a raider, dragged behind the pushcart.
It was a gratifying ride back, my cock sawing in and out of her tight orifice as I rode on the horse. It was a special chief's privilege ( not formally of course of study ) to dishonour a woman on horseback, and as I pumped my load into her defenceless kitty, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a very chief of my tribe. Sadly, my circumstances was different.
The starting time signs of the ill wind were received in the very hour I returned from this excellent raid. A few of our prize Equus caballus had been stolen by another kin, and the pursuing company had been killed in combat. Among them was my full cousin, and this incensed me no end. Leaving the cleaning woman to be tended by the attendant as they saw fit, I headed straight for the chiefs'hut, where worried and anxious faces met me.
"Rashid, do you know what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the current head of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were murmurs of pain in the neck at my sharp reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to mind. Instead he told the group about the Equus caballus ( and woman ) I'd captured during the raid. Most of them listened to the inside information with strange stake, the ground for which became clear only when I learnt that the foray by the fixture leaders on a different tribe had been a signal failure.

I'm not one to gloat over my triumph, rather I'd prefer to lead into another struggle. This time however, the next engagement came from an unexpected one-quarter. Qaglich Khan, an elder who had a transmitted disapproval for my family, stood up"My crony, it becomes top that the rash action at law of this Danton True Young man are the cause behind the failure of our raid today. He took our honorable knight, reduced our numbers, and forced the elderberry bush to attack a lesser place."
I was stunned. The horses belonged to us, captured personally by me and my ally during the previous raid. As for the men, it was an heart-to-heart secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a spokesperson choked with anger I pointed this out. His argument was even more ridiculous as the attack on a lesser area had failed. But the elders were by now looking at me with a mix of jaundice and ire, which I found difficult to deflect. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my knocker had a upright championship in the council, I had none. The disputation were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no need to draw the tribal arguments in detail. You were thrown out shortly prior to the obliteration of your tribe by the Yalitiz tribe. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But records tell us there were only three masses in the group that arrived. Where did the quarter go ?"
Rashid looked with a sullen formula 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 try you speak Rashid. Please continue."
"Fine. Have it your way, the Oklahoman we're done the better. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the determination was taken, I was asked to leave alone within twenty four 60 minutes. All our cattle were taken away in return for the paltry sum of 5000 dirhams. All we were left with were a domestic ass and my horse. To cook subject speculative, as I was leaving, that asshole again spoke up
‘ And take your jade sister with you. We don't want her ruining our son'manhood."
I took it as an offhand revilement. Cursing the state of thing, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the decision, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would have succeeded, had it not been for that contumely turning out to be true.
My rest home back then was at the edge of a small rooftree, a fall from which would not kill you but go your limbs. It was separated from the Greenwich Village proper by a pocket-size space which housed the stalls of the kindred. As I checked on my horse cavalry to score sure it was in good health should I actually have to void the next day, I was surprised to find the audio of a female child coming from behind them.
Wondering what on earth was happening in my own tribal base, I peered brush up the boundary of the stable, and was stunned to receive my one-time babe with a man. Worse, not only was she stark naked but he was in fact a member of one of our match tribes, one which had waged a war of vengeance against us not long ago. He must have sneaked into the Greenwich 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 ire. That was the first time I lost this self control, and all because of a stupid slut of a sister. Letting out a roar, I had my brand in my manus before either of them were aware of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her cunt as I swept the brand in an arc an inch from my sister's terrified face, slicing her lover's neck opening into two His heading, the expression of delight still carved upon it, fell to the ground even as his body continued to tweet from the mixture of ejaculation and death muscle spasm.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to force him out. This she did in a daze, her eyes filling up with split at this crimson turn of event. I would have strangled her to death then and there for the act she'd done, but to my ill luck we were discovered at that very moment. tough, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich Khan.
The scrawny whoreson had been watching the proceedings even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a brief while from his hiding topographic point behind a rock. I brandished my sword 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 ready matter tough, she had, in her reckless passion, headed behind the stables leaving her apparel behind a shrub that was in the present tense fortune a mile off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her clothes, but saw a crowd gathered there by the meter I returned. The kid had cooked up as story about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the enemy but preferred to confer with the elders before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my spunk now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very little influence on the nous of the prepossess minds of the senior. When that stupid breaking wind called Qaglich spoke of how the disembodied spirit were unhappy with me and my family, it was the end of any Hope I may ingest hitherto entertained. worsened, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the women of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral Acts of the Apostles unbecoming of a swell tribe.
You'd understand that the pain was goose egg to me, hell, I'd felt lots outstanding pain in combat. It was the chagrin that hurt me well-nigh. That old fart's son wielded the whip, and fifty dollar bill slash were what I got, swearing to avenge each one of them on the case of my shame. There was talk of stoning the prostitute to expiry, 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 dawn the following day.
My back combustion, I headed back with my burlap sack covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The instant we got menage, she landed hard on the floor from a backhand stroke slap on her fair cheek. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the fair sex of the kin so worked up. I explained in as many language that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the tell dormancy room for the females that she began to sob. I was too micturate to cerebrate about the futurity immediately, rather I wanted to punish the whore. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like hawk, causing me to devote my time and attention to the task of packing things. Not that there was much to backpack. We aren't a plentiful tribe, and ever since my father was removed matter have gotten worse - he atleast recognize how to swap.
As I tended to the horse and Equus asinus, getting them ready, my mother and sister packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a corner crying, too stunned by the beastly end of her fan to react. The packing was done by midnight, and we were quick to go away by the metre the 1st rays of the sun were breaking through the rugged hills in the space. 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 miss upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the customary greetings given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few stones behind our caravan ( my mother 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 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 small, I turned back to the three women in the back, and was annoyed to retrieve the elder of my stair sis clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my ira, and sought to intercede.
‘ Please she's a young daughter, hold her a chance."
"Chance. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to demand lashes from that half breed Qaglich's crybaby. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quietly. M younger stepsister was weeping silently, hugging the older one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the underdone road was all that lay ahead and behind us. The next stop was a good twenty Roman mile away. I decided this was as good a prison term as any to punish my sporting lady sister. 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 slovenly woman. Annoyed, I grabbed the youthful girl by her farseeing haircloth and pulled her down onto the hot grit, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old woman came next, pulled bodily down and cast off away. The slut, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my grasp till I grabbed her can and pulled her towards me.
She made one net endeavor to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the aspect, knocking half her Edward D. White teeth down her throat. Blood erupted from her oral cavity, as she fell to her knee, her hands folded as she begged me with wide eyes. For the first, and live on time in my lifespan, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish face like her mother, she had panoptic browned centre and hair's-breadth that could pass of as dark-brown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the body. Good enough for a ravishment, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the haircloth, I yanked her up. Her hands flew to her maltreated mane, her backtalk, resembling that of a 7 class old tiddler now, making mumble noises. I held her up before me, looking into the dash eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the thong, the ejection and the gloating face of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My hand almost dropped her as the power of my slap on her face rocked her sparse organic structure. more than blood erupted from her face, her middle now screwed up in pan from the variety of fear and nuisance.
As the other two female looked on in threat, I threw her on the ground, landing three hard rush on the burqa clad figure. She rolled into a fetal emplacement, her nerve wrinkled by an verbalism of acute pain in the neck. You'd ask me how I could penalize my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would have punished a chiliad of my sisters like that, and worse, if they did anything of the sort. Plus I'd never regarded them as sis, or my stepmother as my mother. They simply existed so I could do my obligation to the federation of tribes while they did the study at home.
Hence I felt no scratch of that thing you call sense of right and wrong as I watched the female person writhe in agony on the hot sand. In fact, I landed another severe on her rib, causing a cracking auditory sensation. She looked at me with an expression of awe and repugnance, never having expected her own"pal"to be so barbarous. At that minute however, I felt gnarly helping hand on my breast, 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 fille, and both resumed their tears.
The girl had lain on the ground for some time now, and in venom of her pain in the neck, must have realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to fawn away, a look of talk desperation on her cheek. If she'd shown the same despair while trying to resist that man, she wouldn't have suffered this destiny. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this point I'd had no particular aim apart from punishing her to the fullest extent possible. 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 crawl away, the lower office of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty thighs to my gaze. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see more of her body.
Back in the hamlet I would deliver abstained from any such action, as that may have earned me an exclusion as well. Now however, there was no one for miles around, and she was not the rude vernal lady friend but a sobbing creature who would anyhow be punished. mightiness as well make this grueling work a little more pleasurable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot flat coat as she saw me flex down. Did she require me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? potential she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the cloth of the burka was comparatively flimsy, causing it to tear in my work force, leaving her ass exposed to my gaze. Amid renewed howling and bane from the cleaning lady that had birthed the woman of the street and her sister, I pulled Sahiba up by her waistline.
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 arms, having spared her the torture of the hot guts. Her terrified heart, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the threat of returning to the hot sand bed. As she considered the alternative in that stupid person mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood in those full pink flower petal for the low and last time. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the candidate of being brutally raped on the priming coat. But I had no purpose of sparing her any of her agony. Pulling away, I ripped off the rest of her burka as she danced on the hot Sand, then threw her backbreaking on the ground again.
Her scream wasn't as melodious as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dreary desolation of the desert. I kicked the wriggling public figure on the ground right in between her ramification, eliciting another musical howl from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to remain in the curled up stead she now assumed, the sand would not let her. Unwindng she made a do-or-die try to escape. This only placed her in a temporary doggie style, allowing me to squeeze my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the ground. As her body met the earth again, she screamed, this clock time begging me to kill her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend enough prison term 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 lieu, almost up on her pes this clock time. I allowed her to get up, and run a few paces, before grabbing her. She struggled fiercely, perhaps thinking she'd have made it if I'd let her go. As we scuffled, I was surprised to find the vernal sister turn up, pulling in vain at my firm arms as they held her strumpet sister. As I finally began dragging her back, I felt a burning pain in my wrist. The bitch had bitten me !
TO establish matter worse, the slut whore, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to break free and run even as her sister remained latched onto my bloody wrist joint. Smarting under the painfulness in my wrist, I broke dislodge from the youthful girl with a hard punch to her abdomen, before giving chase to my fleeing prisoner. She did not pull in it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could make off on my knight. As she learnt to her dismay, the horse was more loyal to me than she had been, and refused to budge. Her bungling pulling at its reins caused it to land a voiceless kick on one of her legs, causing her to give way on the sand. I reached her and landed half a 12 heavily bang on every part of her body, breaking her teeth, costa and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the strength to get up from the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin though it was turning her back from a bright red to brown.
Wasting no More meter, I kicked her legs apart and freed my member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the candidate of fucking a fresh cunt. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her lady of pleasure hole as she continued to writhe in pain. Like Farhana she could not bear to count into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this sentence I didn't power her to. Instead I grabbed her fleshy mounds, smaller than Farhana's, but with child than the average cunt you find in those parts. Mauling and pinching them arduous, I looked at her facial expression, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the wand of passing out from the pain in her loins and in her back, forcing me to slap her a few times to ensure she felt every mo of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her pussy for some time. It was tight, warm and had it not been the open desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken greater pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her charms, especially the periodic credit crunch on my prick when her already roasting physical body touched more scorching sand, or my helping hand played with the various parts of her slutty consistence. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the circumstances a good thing as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up stop number, my drive causing her to rock like a rag bird on the ground, her oculus rolling in her head from the intense nuisance in her soundbox. On role I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the grit myself while forcing her to iron down upon it even as my thrust caused her soft pelt to rub against the jolting grains. As I approached orgasm, she again appeared to be passing out, and this time I had to snap up her nipples, pulling her up by their weight. Any alleviation this would suffer given her from the gumption was more than made up by the excruciation in her breasts, for she howled out like a thrashed dog. Her kitty-cat clenched tighter than ever on my cock, asking for her"brother's"seed. My cock obliged, exploding in her cunt with an chroma which caused the desert and the heat to disappear for a second as I was lost in pure bliss.
I came for what seemed like an timeless existence. By the fourth dimension I was done she had passed out, but had a faint pulse. Not wishing to desolate any of our cherished water on the whore, I instead pulled her onto the buck like the cunt the day before, signalling to the two sobbing charwoman to fall out. They had footling choice in the thing, complying with my program line like two thrashed donkeys. Satisfied that it was leaving nothing to the forsake apart from the shreds of Sahiba's burka, I mounted my horse, which neighed in appreciativeness. Giving it a humble goody for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to affect however, turned the slut ‘ sis'over, so that her honest tits were replaced by the brownish-red back. Spreading her ass nerve, I aimed my cock at her rear ingress. She offered no fighting underground, still being passed out. Her motherfucker was surprisingly easy to penetrate, making me question if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such hypothesis, I pushed my hardening cock into her asshole. Satisfied that it was indeed inwardly, I raised her custody and tied them behind my cervix. This put her weighting upon my neck, but it was the merely solvent as she wasn't as short circuit as that early cunt. It had the added attraction of causing an intense pain in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was ready, I took control of the buck with one hired hand and my legs, having been trained to provoke bows from horseback in this manner. The free hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a pony, resuming the journeying across the barren wastes at the head of my"menage ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive unfavorable judgment and suggestions, including how the game should go on, are always receive. Inconsistencies, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for meter reading .