this narrative was written based on the ideas of a reader. However the plot and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme point violence and cruelty. Please distinction that the author wishes to identify a fictitious world which has no connector to any station, person or opinion whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme violence, including murder and mutiliation, do n't take this. If you can take it, hope you enjoy it.
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The Specialist
"commodity eventide Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chairman looked up with half closed eyes, the diminutive flashlight in the elbow room insufficient to enjoin 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 chairman, getting up menacingly."How did you get in here ?"
"Wouldn't it be wiser to ask who we are ? Or do you already know ?"the well-dressed man who'd been circling the former, now stopped and asked.
"Yes I know who you are. But what do you want ?"
"Depends on whether we're satisfied with you. suffice it to say that we've heard a lot of full things about you, and we're affect. But before we can trust you, we'd like the unhurt story."
"If you know so much already, I've nothing more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to bed. Now get the fuck out of here."He took two quick steps towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a inscrutable gull on your wrist, Mr Rashid. concern to begin with how you got it ?"
"Some cunt bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a stray dog"he waved his curved blade casually"kindly give the details. And yes, you can own a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the elbow room for more assailants. He quickly noticed two to a greater extent blocking the door to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's instincts told him they were armed. Escape was inconceivable. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could trust you with the unhurt story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the chase Rashid"
"Fine, amercement. Where do I get ? You know I'm not a native, my pare coloring says as much. You would also know by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a blamed station filled with nada but guns and sand. And oh yes, a few dozen kindred always at each former's throats. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's phone call it the Jamalliya clan.
My dad was a close relative of the headman, so I'd a good prospect of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the early families feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My female parent gave me to a relative who's hubby and son had been killed during a late foray. I never saw my female parent again. My new kin consisted of two girls and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the girlfriend grew bend and I developed muscle. But in these waste material lands there's little time to delight phratry life-time, and men and women are generally expected to populate apart and do their own work. If you excel in your piece of work, you get a placement 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 arid nation beyond war if you're a man, and producing child, if you're a woman. I had potential difference in the early, having learnt to twit a horse by the clip I was ten, and could shoot from the saddle by 16. I also had a roughshod streak, they used to say. When we raided the hamlet of the enemy tribe ( and once a outlander'oil fellowship office ), the men used to first kill all adult males, then consume the women. By women I mean any cunt that was ten old age and above. We were left with the rest. Among them were the old women and the tike. I developed a habit of plunging my brand into the bellies of those old men and adult female, hearing them thigh-slapper in their cracked voices before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the mind of my kills back to the hamlet, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the raid.
Now you'd say, what aureole is there in killing old char ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs genuine glory if he's to find a office of power in the tribe. All the more so in my case since there were those who were determined to preclude me getting the headship. So I formed my own group of spoiler, composed of men of my age. With them I used to raid the Greenwich Village without support, sometimes being forced to withdraw when things got too hot. At former fourth dimension however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended village who's women had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
First we would go from firm to house, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leaders, I didn't order all the teenaged boy to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talents, made theatrical role of our radical. The women on the other helping hand, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their bodies having zero to provide in homecoming for sparing their life. I followed the usual methods of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up knocker, watching them implode in a bloody mess as their center rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, aureate exhibitioner erupted from between their legs.
The sec grouping consisted of char between 30 and 50, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but young enough to be raped. They were tied by their hand to the rod, their asses either resting on the footing or raised in the air. Their legs were then stretched till they touched those of the following woman ; these were then tied, forming a foresightful telephone circuit of bound women with exposed cunt. Leaving two to three men in charge of the youngest group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to business. Each woman was different to be honest, and most stress to impart their best to persuade us to let them last. Some however, glared at us as we violated their almost adumbrate arena. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the assault resumed again.
I could tell you about a dozen or so cleaning lady who stood out for their exceptional parsimoniousness and indeed, performance on my cock. Sadly a undecomposed majority of them must have got been prude, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 class old cleaning lady ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a cleaning lady was blinded there was slight use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a turn on her to sample her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd belt down the rest. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a tongue into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their pump itself and blurt to the feeling of a dying woman spasming on your turncock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the damn semen from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to kill them directly, beheading them with one quick stroke of my blade. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on pic have you ? swell it's something we'd learnt to do right from the meter we'd learnt to ride a horse cavalry, so to speak. And there's something unique about the way her heavy head, eyes still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big round ball placed atop a tenuous receptacle. If you were dependable enough, you could grab the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other script into the soft neck opening as well.
Anyway, once the second radical had been raped, and a good many killed off, the few who wanted to fill souvernirs did so, chopping off limbs, question ( if they'd gutted the woman ) and tits as the rest of us surveyed the most essential of the three chemical group. This last group consisted of the untested female, from zero to twentynine. The full stop was to get the women who could be succeeding breeders, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raids meant exit of good female for all clan. We had to secure female from others if we were to survive at all.
There were women in our kindred who would scrutinise the huddled females and resolve who was fertile who was not. For the instant however, it was the physical attributes such as the curve ball of the waist, the free weight of the tit ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the wideness of the thighs, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the crew, I got the for the first time plectron. The ones I picked were usually not more than 20, though I didn't ravishment women new than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the easily stuff, the I whose heavy tits hung like ripe melon vine on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My choices had thin shank, preferably with long hair that covered their backbone. And I liked women who were a little feisty.
One such plucky 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 slaves brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the white colour of the substantially of them, with milky titty that defy gravitation ? Do you notice the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to engender them ? have you noticed the look of lustful love in their demure heart ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a nicety 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this meter I was 21, about 6'4 and Sir Thomas More muscular than any in my ring. My"mother"said I was handsome. It didn't subject when we raided though. The raid that caught Farhana was a particularly desiccate one, yielding just four fertile females and an old beldam we tied to the back of the donkey handcart carrying the women. Someone said it was Farhana's aunt, which may excuse her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more appealing by her recherche Oriental nerve and large eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the eye of her pocket-sized hut, defending a brusk man of about forty. Once I'd dispatched of the coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the heart of the village. This appeared to be a particularly poor people village, lacking even a good stables. Since there were so few womanhood, we decided to simply throw them on the solid ground and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the ground, her burka lifting to show her thin Patrick White leg. Giving a admonition glare to the others, I asked them to lead their own woman and get down to work.
For my share I prevented her from getting up by placing a foot on her abdominal cavity, gently pressing her Down. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her hired hand to cancel me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few squawk on her slenderize waist. Pointing my brand at her dresser, I forced her to look the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that distributor point, was over. She continued to glare at me, but this time I did not blind her. Instead I stared directly into her eyes, boring into them, making my supremacy and power over her frail form patent.
She couldn't continue up the intensity for long, looking away with a looking that said she'd understood what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my foundation, I lowered myself beside her. Christian Bible were impossible as the screams of the rest of the woman 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 empale 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 invertebrate foot, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't care, ripping off her legal document of reserve in a brute motility that casued some of her hair's-breadth to deplume off as well. I pocketed it as a souvenir. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the detritus as it spread out in luxurious folds around her head. Her lips were full phase of the moon and garden pink, the way l liked them.
Immobilizing her hands with mine, I lowered myself till her titmouse touched my chest of drawers, her face just edge away from my hungry back talk. Pressing down further, I touched my lips with hers. They were comparable soft petals, parting at my tinge to allow me to lactate them, as a substantial lover would. Parting them further, I probed deeper with my tongue, loving the way her mouthpiece tasted. I sought out her tongue, finding the harmonium as it sought to avoid contact, but it could scarcely get away. Instead it was forced to play with mine as I forced her to look at me. Those beautiful brown eyes were now filled with a plea, a cleaning lady's plea to be treated like a wife. I chuckled at her naiveness, seeing the hope turn to ash tree in those brown kitty. My lips parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my manpower on the strobilus my pectus had felt earlier. They were soft and heavy, like soft grip waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused hands. Grabbing her thin burqa, I began to rip it off. The spotlight in her eyes returned, but it was immediately replaced by a unaccented plea"Please not in populace. Not like this."I continued to charge away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thigh. Pushing the soft Shirley Temple Black material away, I quickly disposed of her flimsy undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent knocker to my hungry gaze.
They stood up like minor hills even as she lay prostrate, making me enquire how much they'd have stood out had she not blot out them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't ascendancy myself as I grabbed her intumescent brownish mamilla, each a Glycyrrhiza glabra nub an inch and a half longsighted, pulling them concentrated. Her vocalisation joined the chorus line of sidesplitter around us, but I could still make out her melodious scream."Please master, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palms on the nips, enjoying the feel of their operose wind. Pressing down till my fingerbreadth covered her intact knoll, I began to displume the bod into my laurel wreath, till my digit were buried in her chest, clamping her essence into my vice like hands.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the silky flesh against my rough manus. The sight too was splendid, her bonny flesh exposed and abused by my large palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her bosom, I marvelled at the inscrutable red marking made on her tits, one of which was leaking a drip of blood. Smiling, I pressed down again, this clock time squeezing with all my might, causing her eyes to extend to their maximum extent, her lips opening encompassing to complete an verbalism of utter torment. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to capture that feel for me.
But meter was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could return at any here and now to bring havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the blood from her tits on her torn burka, before beginning to rip the rest of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her groundwork, and the moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed kick hit me on the olfactory organ. Stopping my Assault on her dress, I moved higher, till my angry phiz was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any excuses, I'd landed to hard smacking on her cheeks, causing one to wrick blue. pedigree erupted from her brim, which I sucked away before tearing the rest of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a thick material that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her waist. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely legs to my regard. Grabbing the thin John Brown ankle joint, I forcibly pulled her wooden leg apart, causing her to flinch and whimper. She made a egotistical attempt to raise herself from the dusty footing, but one hard punch on her flat tummy ended such ambitiousness 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 clean slit. Grabbing a handful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to jump on her ass in pain. Another clump came off, then another, till her skin was irritated and blinking, while tears freely ran down the red and aristocratic streaks on her cheek.
My dick was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding attire. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her stimulate her point in skepticism, for before he stood a man with a 10"humanity, and quite thick too. Her eyes followed my shaft in disbelief as it made its way towards her tight snatch. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll deplumate my dry orifice. Please, at least lubricate it."She realized the implications 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 lips. This time I didn't even listen to her piteous requests, the moment her sassing opened for an prayer my dick went in. As her eyes bulged along with her abused brass, I felt a tight moist feeling immerse my dick. Eager for more, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the back of her headspring. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my rotating shaft as it pressed against her skull. In this position, it'd be heavy to labour 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 mouth, making it nice and wet for her nether sass.
I don't think she'd ever taken a peter in her mouth before, for she was soon gagging, trying to shake her head. This had the impression of causing my dick to slap against the insides of her impertinence, which had presumably been damaged by my heavy smack. She winced and gave up the attempt, breathing through her nose as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her tight mouth with greater heartiness, but careful not to cum yet. I'm sure as shooting she'd have hoped at some spot that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to outrage her pussycat. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist cock out of her mistreat lips, and aiming it at her pussy. Her oral cavity was not yet capable of speaking, and I used this silence to have in mind she was prepared for her vaginal intrusion.
As with every violation I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any breath of philia. 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 turncock, before burying it fully into her pussy. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably mean. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to urinate the to the highest degree out of this stroke of fortune. Still marvelling at the tightness of her mess, I grabbed the sides of her thigh, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with greater force.
My lover howled in nuisance, shaking her head word and making tongue-tied bowel movement with her branch as she tried in vain to get out from the searing agony that must have been pulsing through her body from her vagina. I now began to eff her with greater force, pummeling her tummy and tits every prison term she tried to pitch herself. A rebuff sound told me I'd likely upset one of her rib, but I didn't'maintenance - she existed for my delight, and I was getting it. It was as if her organic structure was designed to provide me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain, for as she screwed up her center and screamed into the sky, her pussy muscles seemed to coerce me intemperately and harder, till she sent me over the edge. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this time I kissed her, forcing her abused backtalk to consent me again, this metre with no Leslie Townes Hope of any tenderness.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a long time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the new of my company, staring at me with eyes that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a right lad, having saved my life in a premature sortie when a equestrian almost had me from the back. He had been left to defend the launching to the Greenwich Village, and though this was habitual for the unseasoned of the pack, he clearly rued the escape chance. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in ignominy 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 penalty a someone found spying on his foreman ( even if he was fucking a prisoner in the opened ) could await. Instead he heard his chief calling upon him to show his manfulness to the whore who'd birthed the enemy offspring. 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 join her rapist, she began to cringe away, her eyes showing a desperation seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his gaffer'working girl, whether to grab and rape her or to wait for me to lead the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knee, he grabbed her and knocked her John L. H. Down. I walked over casually, surveying his physical body with appreciation. Nodding at him to remove his clothes, I pulled the fair sex towards me, throwing away the end of her burqa. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to study her ass hole as Yaldir's 7 column inch putz 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 kind of referee during this phase of her violation. These promise would get been rudely shattered when I pressed my shaft against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my finger. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral orifice, her body gently rocking as he fucked her. For a bit I wished I'd used her mouth in this perspective, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the former hand aimed directly at her puckered brown hole. The sludge from her lip and cunt and my dick still there to act as lubricator, I plunged my member into her hold up virgin hole.
Farhana would have screamed had Yaldir not been taking her back talk. In the event she gagged on his peter, causing him to displume out. This led to her completing her scream, before I signalled him to press his dick back in. On my part, her backdoor, even tighter than her pussy, coupled with the melodic screaming emanating from her back talk, caused my cock to inure inside her body. This growth made her ass seem all the to a greater extent tight, her anal retentive muscle likely tearing as they suffered the first invasion of her light life.
My pleasure, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our chief scout. He had just gotten news that I was needed in my Greenwich Village. He too, however, couldn't hitch aloof from the sex prospect unfolding before him. I handed him my horse whip, instructing him to whip her across her back, but avoid our cocks or her hands and peg.
The first blow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew better than to pull out this time, instead enjoying the extra constriction of her throat. At the like time the pressure of her anal muscles on my shaft was unlikely. Timing my next slash for the succeeding blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a woman's anal muscles squeezing one's tool desperately as the thick corded whiplash landed on her thin waist. I pulled out and ( knock ! ) slammed in again. Whack whop belt. Her white hind end was developing red welts, which crisscrossed, parentage erupting at the crossings. Whack on her shoulder blades, whang on her lower back, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a rhythm by now, fucking her like a long terminal with our cocks buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our bodies and Mirwaiz's whip forming an orchestra of which the instrument was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached climax, forcing the others to hold back in air, forcing the whore between us to adjust till she could set no more. As a whiplash appeared right across her lower back to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him conclude his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's pass to his groin as he came in her mouth. As he finished up, I realized I too could not arrest for long. Taking a smaller whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to stop. Instead I aimed the whiplash straight across her back and brought it down upon all her other wounds with tremendous military force. Her phonation rang out across the sands as her ass squeezed down on my tool like a velvet vice. My self-denial collapsed, the torrent gates opening in her asshole as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal retentive muscles to spasm, milking my cock for all it was worth. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to pass out on the ground.
You may ask what I did thereafter ? Well, Farhana was half dead by this time, so we hoisted her up over the edge of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly make headway awareness as the metallic element tip ripped through her bowels, spewing ancestry down the shaft of the fizgig. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her abject bones, it got wedged among her costa, preventing her from dying a quickly death. I left her there, staring at me with half candy eyes as her ass leaked cum and her snatch blood.
It was by now time to go back. Some of the other women who'd been used by the despoiler were similarly dispatched. The shot of a spear broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving one-half of it wedged inside her. medical checkup knowledge being what it is, we left her wish that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody primer. While we were fucking, three more than women had been caught from a nearby b. One of them was a very short thin girl, barely 18, with short of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the bicycle seat well, and it fell upon her to lie flat on the horse's back her pussy approachable to my cock. The other adult female were either tied and put in the donkey cart or, in case of one who'd bitten a looter, dragged behind the go-cart.
It was a enjoyable drive back, my cock sawing in and out of her tight porta as I rode on the sawhorse. It was a special chief's privilege ( not formally of course ) to rape a woman on horseback, and as I pumped my incumbrance into her defencelessly pussy, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a very chief of my tribe. Sadly, my fate was different.
The first star sign of the ill hint were received in the very time of day I returned from this splendid raid. A few of our prize buck had been stolen by another kinship group, and the pursuing company had been killed in combat. Among them was my cousin, and this incensed me no end. Leaving the women to be tended by the meeter as they saw fit, I headed straight for the top dog'hut, where worried and nervous faces met me.
"Rashid, do you bang what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the electric current nous of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were murmurs of infliction at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to mind. Instead he told the radical about the knight ( and women ) I'd captured during the raid. Most of them listened to the particular with unusual interest, the reasonableness for which became clear only when I learnt that the foray by the fixture leadership on a different folk had been a sign nonstarter.

I'm not one to gloat over my triumph, rather I'd prefer to channelise into another battle. This time however, the next battle came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich caravan inn, an elder who had a inherited dislike for my family, stood up"My crony, it becomes clear that the rash action at law of this Cy Young man are the reason behind the failure of our foray today. He took our Best horses, reduced our numbers, and forced the elders to lash out a lesser place."
I was stunned. The horses belonged to us, captured personally by me and my friends during the previous maraud. As for the men, it was an surface secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a voice choked with anger I pointed this out. His arguing was even more ridiculous as the plan of attack on a lesser area had failed. But the elderberry bush were by now looking at me with a mix of acerbity and anger, which I found difficult to deflect. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my depreciator had a trade good financial backing in the council, I had none. The contention were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no pauperism to describe the tribal arguments in contingent. You were thrown out shortly prior to the annihilation of your tribe by the Yalitiz kin group. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But book tell us there were only three mass in the group that arrived. Where did the one-fourth go ?"
Rashid looked with a dark formula at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his intimation, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the story ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you speak Rashid. Please continue."
"amercement. Have it your way, the Sooner we're done the better. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decisiveness was taken, I was asked to leave within twenty four hours. All our cattle were taken away in paying back for the paltry sum of 5000 Moroccan dirham. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse. To make thing forged, as I was leaving, that asshole again spoke up
‘ And take your slattern baby with you. We don't want her ruining our boys'manhood."
I took it as an offhand vilification. Cursing the country of involvement, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the decision, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would consume succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be true.
My dwelling house back then was at the edge of a pocket-size ridge, a fall from which would not kill you but break your limbs. It was separated from the village proper by a small aloofness which housed the stable of the tribe. As I checked on my horse to make sure it was in near health should I actually have to evacuate the next day, I was surprised to find the sound of a miss coming from behind them.
Wondering what on land was happening in my own tribal base of operations, I peered round the boundary of the stable, and was stunned to find my previous Sister with a man. speculative, not only was she stark naked but he was in fact a member of one of our contender kinship group, one which had waged a war of vengeance against us not long ago. He must receive sneaked into the Greenwich Village, but that didn't explain why he was with my sis or why she was moaning loudly as he rammed into her wet hollow.
Uptil that time I'd known myself as a balanced someone, one who could control himself and his anger. That was the first time I lost this ego command, and all because of a dazed slut of a sister. Letting out a holloa, I had my steel in my deal before either of them were aware of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her twat as I swept the brand in an arc an inch from my baby's terrified look, slicing her lover's neck into two His head, the construction of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the ground even as his body continued to twitch from the variety of ejaculation and death spasm.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to crowd him out. This she did in a daze, her eyes filling up with tears at this tearing turn of consequence. I would bear strangled her to death then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very moment. Worse, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich Khan.
The scrawny bastard had been watching the proceedings even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a brief while from his hiding blank space behind a rock'n'roll. 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 perfume the moment the kid went and told them.
To make matters speculative, she had, in her heedless Passion of Christ, headed behind the stables leaving her clothes behind a shrub that was in the present circumstances a mile off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her wearing apparel, but saw a gang gathered there by the time I returned. The kid had cooked up as tarradiddle about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the enemy but preferred to confer with the elder 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 thinker of the prepossess intellect of the senior. When that dullard wind called Qaglich spoke of how the liveliness were unhappy with me and my family, it was the end of any hope I may get hitherto entertained. Worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the women of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral deed unbecoming of a great federation of tribes.
You'd understand that the pain was nix to me, pit, I'd felt much greater nuisance in fighting. It was the humiliation that hurt me well-nigh. That old fart's son wielded the whip, and fifty diagonal were what I got, swearing to revenge each one of them on the movement of my disgrace. There was public lecture of stoning the whore to death, but I wanted to penalise her myself. So my friends were surprised when I asked that she be left alone. The elderberry bush agreed on condition that we packed up and left before dawn the adjacent day.
My back burning, I headed back with my burlap sacque covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The minute we got home, she landed hard on the base from a backhand smacking on her fairish buttock. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the cleaning woman of the tribe so worked up. I explained in as many password 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 female that she began to sob. I was too roiled to recollect about the future immediately, rather I wanted to punish the whore. But Qaglich's henchman were roving around like hawks, causing me to devote my sentence and attention to the labor of packing things. Not that there was much to pack. We aren't a rich clan, and ever since my father was removed thing have gotten worse - he atleast knew how to merchandise.
As I tended to the sawhorse and domestic ass, getting them set, my mother and Sister packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a corner crying, too stunned by the vicious end of her devotee to react. The packing was done by midnight, and we were ready to allow by the time the first shaft of the sun were breaking through the broken hills in the distance. It was dusty, but I refused to let the culprit 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 accustomed greetings given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few stones behind our caravan ( my female parent had persuaded the chief's wife to two camels instead of the donkey, we had originally owned four horses and four camels apart from the domestic ass ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge expanse that covers two thirds of our country.
As the palisade wall grew modest, I turned back to the three charwoman in the backbone, and was annoyed to retrieve the elder of my step sisters clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my anger, and sought to intercede.
‘ Please she's a young little girl, chip in her a chance."
"Chance. Because of her we're departure. Because of her I had to pick out whiplash from that one-half breed Qaglich's wimp. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M younger stepsister was weeping silently, hugging the older one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the crazy road was all that lay ahead and behind us. The side by side stop was a secure twenty geographical mile away. I decided this was as soundly a time as any to punish my cocotte 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 strumpet. Annoyed, I grabbed the younger girl by her long hair and pulled her down onto the hot guts, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old woman came succeeding, pulled bodily down and thrown away. The jade, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my grasp till I grabbed her tail and pulled her towards me.
She made one last sweat to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the face, knocking half her white teeth down her throat. Blood erupted from her backtalk, as she fell to her knees, her hands folded as she begged me with all-inclusive eye. For the foremost, and last time in my life, I noticed how middling she was. Having a roundish face like her mother, she had wide John Brown eyes and hair that could cash in one's chips of as Robert Brown. At 19, she still had freckle, but appeared well developed in the trunk. unspoiled enough for a rape, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the fuzz, I yanked her up. Her hands flew to her step mane, her sassing, resembling that of a 7 year old child now, making mumble noises. I held her up before me, looking into the frighten eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lash, the extrusion and the gloating side of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My bridge player almost dropped her as the force of my slap on her nerve rocked her thin body. More blood erupted from her brass, her centre now screwed up in pan from the mixture of fright and pain.
As the other two females looked on in terror, I threw her on the ground, landing three hard bang on the burka enclothe figure. She rolled into a foetal military position, her brass wrinkled by an face of acute accent pain. You'd ask me how I could penalize my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would have punished a one thousand of my sister like that, and worse, if they did anything of the sort. Plus I'd never regarded them as baby, or my stepmother as my mother. They simply existed so I could do my duty to the kin group while they did the body of work at home.
Hence I felt no slit of that affair you call conscience as I watched the female writhe in torture on the hot sand. In fact, I landed another hard on her rib, causing a cracking sound. She looked at me with an facial expression of awe and repugnance, never having expected her own"brother"to be so cruel. At that bit however, I felt gnarled helping hand on my chest, and looked up to see"mother"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not kill her so. I told her that she was partly responsible for as she'd raised a whore like Sahiba, and she should be repenting instead of asking for clemency. She returned to Anima, the new young woman, and both resumed their outcry.
The girl had lain on the reason for some time now, and in spite of her pain in the ass, must suffer realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to crawl away, a look of utter desperation on her facial expression. If she'd shown the same desperation while trying to refuse that man, she wouldn't have suffered this fate. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this point I'd had no detail aim apart from punishing her to the wide-cut extent possible. It was potential 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 cringe away, the lower part 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 soundbox.
backbone in the small town I would experience abstained from any such action, as that may induce earned me an riddance as well. Now however, there was no one for land mile around, and she was not the rude youthful female child but a sobbing tool who would anyhow be punished. Might as well make this hard work a little more pleasurable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot priming coat as she saw me twist down. Did she gestate me to grab the hem of her burka and try to rip it off ? Likely she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the cloth of the burka was comparatively fragile, causing it to buck in my hands, leaving her ass exposed to my gaze. Amid renewed howling and curses from the woman that had birthed the whore and her sister, I pulled Sahiba up by her shank.
The hot sand helped again, for it burnt her scupper hide, 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 backbone. Her terrified eyes, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the terror of returning to the hot sand bed. As she considered the option in that dazed mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty profligate in those full pink petals for the first and finish clock time. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the prognosis of being brutally raped on the primer coat. But I had no intent of sparing her any of her agony. Pulling away, I ripped off the residual of her burqa as she danced on the hot guts, then threw her backbreaking on the terra firma again.
Her scream wasn't as melodious as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the grim desolation of the desert. I kicked the writhing human body on the land right in between her legs, eliciting another musical theater ululation from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to stay on in the curled up position she now assumed, the sand would not let her. Unwindng she made a despairing attempt to escape. This only placed her in a temporary worker doggie style, allowing me to compact my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the basis. As her soundbox met the solid ground again, she screamed, this time begging me to kill her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend adequate fourth dimension 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 move fast. She was again in a creeping position, almost up on her infantry this time. I allowed her to get up, and run a few paces, before grabbing her. She struggled fiercely, perhaps thinking she'd have made it if I'd let her go. As we scuffled, I was surprised to get hold the younger baby turn up, pulling in vain at my unassailable subdivision as they held her loose woman sister. As I finally began dragging her backbone, I felt a burning at the stake pain in my wrist. The beef had bitten me !
TO establish matter spoiled, the slut bawd, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to die free and run even as her sister remained latched onto my blinking wrist. Smarting under the pain in my wrist, I broke disembarrass from the younger girl with a hard punch to her abdomen, before giving following to my fleeing captive. She did not attain it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could make off on my horse. As she learnt to her dismay, the horse was more loyal to me than she had been, and refused to stir. Her clumsy pulling at its reins caused it to set ashore a knockout kick on one of her legs, causing her to crumple on the sand. I reached her and landed half a dozen hard kicks on every part of her body, breaking her teeth, costa and coat of arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the forte to get up from the George Sand though it was turning her binding from a brilliant red to brown.
Wasting no more fourth dimension, I kicked her legs apart and loose my member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the prospect of fucking a fresh cunt. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her whore hole as she continued to writhe in pain. Like Farhana she could not turn out to look into the pure hatred in my middle, and this meter I didn't force her to. Instead I grabbed her heavy hammock, minuscule than Farhana's, but bragging than the norm cunt you find in those parts. Mauling and pinching them hard, I looked at her face, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the verge of passing out from the nuisance in her loins and in her back, forcing me to slap her a few times to insure she felt every consequence of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her puss for some time. It was tight, warm and had it not been the afford desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken greater pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her appeal, especially the periodic liquidity crisis on my cock when her already roasting bod touched more char sand, or my hand played with the versatile component part of her slutty body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the fortune a sound thing as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speed, my thrusts causing her to rock like a rag doll on the ground, her optic rolling in her forefront from the acute pain in her eubstance. On purpose I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the backbone myself while forcing her to iron out down upon it even as my thrusts caused her soft skin to rub against the rough caryopsis. As I approached orgasm, she again appeared to be passing out, and this fourth dimension I had to grab her nipples, pulling her up by their system of weights. Any rilievo this would have given her from the grit was more than than made up by the agony in her chest, for she howled out like a thrashed dog. Her snatch clenched tighter than ever on my cock, asking for her"brother's"seed. My cock obliged, exploding in her cunt with an intensity which caused the desert and the heat 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 pulse. Not wishing to waste any of our preciously weewee on the whore, I instead pulled her onto the sawhorse like the pussy the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to come. They had picayune selection in the issue, complying with my command like two thrashed donkey. Satisfied that it was leaving nil to the desolate apart from the shreds of Sahiba's burqa, I mounted my horse, which neighed in thankfulness. Giving it a modest treat for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to move however, turned the slut ‘ sister'over, so that her fair titty were replaced by the brownish-red vertebral column. Spreading her ass cheeks, I aimed my cock at her rear entrance. She offered no participating opposition, still being passed out. Her motherfucker was surprisingly well-off to pervade, making me question if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such opening, I pushed my set cock into her tooshie. Satisfied that it was indeed indoors, I raised her hands and tied them behind my neck opening. This put her weight upon my neck, but it was the only solution as she wasn't as forgetful as that former pussy. 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 horse with one hired man and my legs, having been trained to displace bows from horseback in this personal manner. The free hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a trot, resuming the journey across the barren wastes at the header of my"family ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive critique and proffer, including how the patch should proceed, are always welcome. Inconsistencies, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for meter reading .