this story was written based on the ideas of a reader. However the secret plan and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme point violence and harshness. Please tone that the author wishes to describe a fictitious world which has no connection to any place, person or sentiment whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme violence, including slaying and mutiliation, do n't take this. If you can require it, hope you enjoy it.
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The medical specialist
"Good eventide Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chair looked up with one-half closed eyes, the tiny torch in the room insufficient to distinguish his look. The man circling him however, did not seem to involve such information, he had all he wanted. fountainhead almost.
"What do you want ?"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 eff ?"the well-groomed man who'd been circling the other, now stopped and asked.
"Yes I know who you are. But what do you desire ?"
"Depends on whether we're satisfied with you. suffice it to say that we've heard a lot of trade good things about you, and we're impressed. But before we can intrust you, we'd like the unit 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 promptly stair towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a oceanic abyss marker on your wrist, Mr Rashid. Care to begin with how you got it ?"
"Some beef bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a stray dog"he waved his curved leaf blade casually"kindly give the details. And yes, you can feature a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the way for more than aggressor. He quickly noticed two to a greater extent blocking the room access to the stair and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's inherent aptitude told him they were armed. Escape was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to love quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could trust you with the hale story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the Salmon Portland Chase Rashid"
"fine, fine. Where do I set out ? You know I'm not a native, my skin colour says as much. You would also have sex by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a blessed place filled with goose egg but gunman and sand. And oh yes, a few XII tribes always at each former's throats. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call it the Jamalliya tribe.
My dad was a close relative of the headman, so I'd a in effect opportunity of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the other sept feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My mother gave me to a relative who's husband and son had been killed during a recent foray. I never saw my mother again. My new family consisted of two young lady and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the female child grew curves and I developed sinew. But in these waste lands there's little time to enjoy crime syndicate living, and men and women are generally expected to know apart and do their own work. If you excel in your piece of work, you get a stance 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 secern oneself in in those desiccated lands beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing tike, if you're a womanhood. I had potential drop in the late, having learnt to mount a gymnastic horse by the time I was ten, and could fool away from the saddle by 16. I also had a roughshod stripe, they used to say. When we raided the Greenwich Village of the enemy tribe ( and once a foreigner'oil company office ), the men used to first pop all adult males, then take the cleaning woman. By char I mean any pussy that was ten years and above. We were left with the quietus. Among them were the old women and the shaver. I developed a habit of plunging my sword into the abdomen of those old men and women, hearing them scream in their cracked voices before spasming and going hitch. Sometimes I'd carry the heads of my killing back to the settlement, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the raid.
Now you'd say, what glorification is there in killing old women ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs tangible glory if he's to obtain a position of business leader in the tribe. All the more so in my case since there were those who were determined to foreclose me getting the headship. So I formed my own group of raiders, composed of men of my age. With them I used to foray into the villages without support, sometimes being forced to call in when matter got too hot. At other clip however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended small town who's char had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
low gear we would go from menage to mansion, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leader, I didn't order all the teenaged boys to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talents, made part of our group. The womanhood on the former hand, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their bodies having goose egg to offer in return for sparing their life-time. I followed the common methods of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up nipple, watching them implode in a bloody mess as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, golden exhibitioner erupted from between their branch.
The second group consisted of women between 30 and fifty dollar bill, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but new enough to be raped. They were tied by their handwriting to the rod, their asses either resting on the ground or raised in the air. Their legs were then stretched till they touched those of the next woman ; these were then tied, forming a long blood of bound women with exposed snatch. Leaving two to three men in rush of the youngest group, the sleep of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to concern. Each cleaning woman was different to be fair, and about render to collapse their best to persuade us to let them hold out. Some however, glared at us as we violated their most familiar areas. This led to their being stabbed in the center before the assault resumed again.
I could differentiate you about a twelve or so women who stood out for their exceptional niggardness and indeed, performance on my turncock. Sadly a near majority of them must let been prudes, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 year old woman ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a cleaning lady was blinded there was niggling use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a turn on her to try her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd pour down the rest. 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 woman spasming on your turncock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the all-fired semen from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to down them directly, beheading them with one fast stroke of my sword. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on film have you ? well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the time we'd learnt to ride a sawbuck, so to speak. And there's something unequaled about the way her heavy head, eye still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big round ball placed atop a thin receptacle. If you were good enough, you could grab the head teacher as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other hand into the soft neck as well.
Anyway, once the 2d radical had been raped, and a good many killed off, the few who wanted to take souvernirs did so, chopping off limb, principal ( if they'd gutted the woman ) and tits as the rest of us surveyed the most of the essence of the three grouping. This last grouping consisted of the youngest female person, from zero to twentynine. The point was to get the charwoman who could be future stock breeder, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raids have in mind loss of good females for all kin group. We had to secure female from others if we were to survive at all.
There were fair sex in our federation of tribes who would scrutinise the huddled female person and settle who was fertile who was not. For the import however, it was the physical dimension such as the curve ball of the waist, the weight unit of the breast ( verified by ripping off the burka ) and the wideness of the thighs, which decided who would get whom. Being the drawing card of the gang, I got the first plectrum. The ones I picked were usually not Thomas More than 20, though I didn't violation fair sex vernal than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the best stuff, the ones whose lumbering tits hung like ripe melon vine on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My option had lean waist, preferably with long hair that covered their back. And I liked women who were a little feisty.
One such feisty woman was Farhana. I've forgotten what her folk was, we conducted so many raid you see. But she was a tangible beauty. Have you seen the female slave brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the white coloration of the best of them, with milky breasts that defy sombreness ? Do you observe the way they stand, their pelvic arch thrust out waiting for a man to breed them ? have you noticed the tone of lustful love in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a subtlety 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this time I was 21, about 6'4 and more powerful than any in my gang. My"mother"said I was handsome. It didn't affair when we raided though. The maraud that caught Farhana was a particularly desiccate one, yielding just four fertile females and an old witch we tied to the dorsum of the donkey cart carrying the fair sex. somebody said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more attract by her exquisite Oriental face and declamatory eye.
I'd noticed her standing in the midsection of her small hut, defending a short man of about forty. Once I'd dispatched of the coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the midsection of the village. This appeared to be a particularly miserable village, lacking even a good horse barn. Since there were so few women, we decided to simply throw them on the ground and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the ground, her burka lifting to render her slight white legs. Giving a admonition limelight to the others, I asked them to make their own women and get down to work.
For my part I prevented her from getting up by placing a foot on her abdomen, gently pressing her down. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her custody to scrape up me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few kicks on her thin waist. Pointing my sword at her chest, I forced her to face the fact that her Independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that point, was over. She continued to glower at me, but this time I did not blind her. Instead I stared directly into her middle, boring into them, making my domination and exponent over her frail cast patent of invention.
She couldn't keep up the intensity level for long, looking away with a face that said she'd understood what would go on to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my foot, I lowered myself beside her. speech were impossible as the screams of the repose of the charwoman drowned any speech. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a char with his sword handle, as the horrified woman looked on, thinking he was about to impale her. He saw me looking, and mouthed the words"Eventually I would. She's not that good."
I laughed, and looked down upon my own quarry. She'd lain silently at my groundwork, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't attention, ripping off her instrument of modesty in a unrelenting relocation that casued some of her hair to shoot off as well. I pocketed it as a memento. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the junk as it spread out in gilded sheepcote around her foreland. Her lips were full and pink, the way l liked them.
immobilization her hired hand with mine, I lowered myself till her teat touched my chest, her face just edge away from my hungry lips. Pressing down further, I touched my sass with hers. They were like cushy petals, parting at my touching to permit me to suck them, as a real lover would. Parting them farther, I probed deeper with my glossa, loving the way her mouthpiece tasted. I sought out her tongue, finding the organ as it sought to annul contact, but it could scarcely lam. Instead it was forced to play with mine as I forced her to await at me. Those beautiful brown eyes were now filled with a supplication, a woman's plea to be treated like a married woman. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the promise crook to ash in those dark-brown pools. My sassing 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 easy traveling bag 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 decrepit supplication"Please not in public. Not like this."I continued to pluck away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thighs. Pushing the soft mordant material away, I quickly disposed of her thin undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent mamilla to my hungry regard.
They stood up like pocket-size hill even as she lay flavourless, making me wonder how much they'd have stood out had she not hidden them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't command myself as I grabbed her tumid chocolate-brown mammilla, each a liquorice nub an column inch and a half long, pulling them hard. Her voice joined the chorus of thigh-slapper around us, but I could still make out her musical shrieking."Please master, end it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my medal on the zest, enjoying the flavour of their laborious tips. Pressing down till my fingers covered her entire hummock, I began to pull the shape into my palm, till my finger's breadth were buried in her chest, clamping her meat into my vice like hands.
I stayed like that for a mo, loving the silklike flesh against my rough hands. The sight too was brilliant, her just physique exposed and abused by my vauntingly palm tree as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the abstruse red marks made on her titty, one of which was leaking a dribble of bloodline. Smiling, I pressed down again, this time squeezing with all my might, causing her center to widen to their upper limit extent, her lips opening wide to nail an construction of let out excruciation. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to capture that looking for me.
But fourth dimension was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could rejoin at any consequence to work havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the blood from her tit on her shoot burqa, before beginning to rip the residue of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her feet, and the present moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed kick hit me on the nose. Stopping my assault on her dress, I moved higher, till my angry countenance was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any excuses, I'd landed to hard slaps on her buttock, causing one to turn blue. line of descent erupted from her sassing, which I sucked away before tearing the balance of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a duncical 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 Brown ankle joint, I forcibly pulled her ramification apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a conceited attack to nurture herself from the dust-covered flat coat, but one difficult punch on her monotone 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 fresh pussy. Grabbing a handful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to jump on her ass in hurting. Another clump came off, then another, till her tegument was irritated and bally, while tears freely ran down the red and gamey streaks on her cheeks.
My dick was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding attire. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her fountainhead in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"manhood, and quite thick too. Her eyes followed my pecker in mental rejection as it made its way towards her tight cunt. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll tear my dry orifice. Please, at least lube it."She realized the import of her request too late. My dick traced a trail of pecum over her abdomen and tits as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her backtalk. This time I didn't even listen to her pathetic requests, the moment her mouth opened for an appeal my gumshoe went in. As her centre bulged along with her clapperclaw impudence, I felt a tight moist impression engulf my tool. eager for Sir Thomas More, I pushed harder, slamming my gumshoe against the spinal column of her head. She was now directly underneath me, our trunk connected by my shaft 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 component that could go in, in and out of her mouth, making it nice and wet for her nether brim.
I don't think she'd ever taken a dick in her back talk before, for she was soon gagging, trying to shake her nous. This had the gist of causing my dick to slap against the insides of her cheeks, which had presumably been damaged by my operose smacking. She winced and gave up the endeavour, breathing through her nose as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her taut mouth with large vigour, but careful not to cum yet. I'm trusted she'd have hoped at some point that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to assault her kitty. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist cock out of her mistreated lips, and aiming it at her pussycat. Her sassing was not yet adequate to of speaking, and I used this silence to think she was prepared for her vaginal invasion.
As with every violation I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any hint of tenderheartedness. 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 tool, before burying it fully into her pussy. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably tight. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to score the near out of this stroke of fortune. Still marvelling at the tightness of her trap, I grabbed the sides of her thighs, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with greater force.
My fan howled in pain, shaking her head and making incoherent movements with her limbs as she tried in vain to get away from the searing agony that must have been pulsing through her body from her vagina. I now began to have it off her with greater force-out, pummeling her tummy and tits every time she tried to switch herself. A slight speech sound told me I'd likely give out one of her ribs, but I didn't'fear - she existed for my pleasure, and I was getting it. It was as if her body was designed to provide me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain, for as she screwed up her middle and screamed into the sky, her pussy muscles seemed to constrict me severely and harder, till she sent me over the sharpness. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this time I kissed her, forcing her mistreat rim to bear me again, this metre with no Hope of any philia.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a long time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the youngest of my company, staring at me with centre that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a in effect lad, having saved my life in a premature sortie when a horseman almost had me from the back. He had been left to guard the entering to the hamlet, and though this was customary for the youngest of the crew, he clearly rued the missed luck. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in shame 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 brass clearly showing the penalization a person found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a captive in the open ) could expect. Instead he heard his foreman 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 manly Cy Young man join her raper, she began to crawl away, her eyes showing a desperation seen in a cervid who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his boss'tart, whether to snap up and rape her or to wait for me to conduce the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knee, he grabbed her and knocked her down. I walked over casually, surveying his body-build with grasp. Nodding at him to take his clothes, I pulled the woman towards me, throwing away the remnant of her burka. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to examine her ass gob as Yaldir's 7 inch cock was exposed. I signalled him to start with her mouthpiece as I began to educate for the encroachment of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some sort of referee during this phase of her violation. These hopes would have been rudely shattered when I pressed my pecker against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my digit. Yaldir had already made his way into her viva orifice, her body gently rocking as he fucked her. For a import I wished I'd used her sassing in this place, but hellhole, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the early hand aimed directly at her puckered brown kettle of fish. The slime from her mouth and pussy and my cock still there to act as lubricant, I plunged my phallus into her last virgin hollow.
Farhana would have screamed had Yaldir not been taking her backtalk. In the event she gagged on his cock, causing him to commit out. This led to her completing her scream, before I signalled him to fight his prick back in. On my part, her backdoor, even tighter than her pussy, coupled with the melodic scream emanating from her back talk, caused my cock to harden inside her dead body. This growth made her ass seem all the more tight, her anal brawn likely tearing as they suffered the starting time encroachment of her unretentive aliveness.
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 village. He too, however, couldn't hitch aloof from the sex scene unfolding before him. I handed him my horse lash, instructing him to whip her across her backbone, but avoid our dick or her hand and legs.
The beginning blow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew better than to tear out this time, instead enjoying the extra constriction of her throat. At the Same time the pressure of her anal heftiness on my stopcock was unbelievable. Timing my next chance event for the following nose candy, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a woman's anal muscle squeezing one's cock desperately as the thick corded whiplash landed on her melt off waist. I pulled out and ( Whack ! ) slammed in again. Whack whack whack. Her white backside was developing red wheal, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the crossing. wallop on her shoulder blades, rap on her crushed back, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a calendar method by now, fucking her like a foresightful pole with our peter buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our dead body and Mirwaiz's party whip forming an orchestra of which the legal document was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached orgasm, forcing the others to keep in line, forcing the whore between us to adjust till she could adjust no more. As a whiplash appeared right across her lower rear to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him close down his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's head to his seawall as he came in her mouth. As he finished up, I realized I too could not check for long. Taking a smaller whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to stop. Instead I aimed the whip directly across her dorsum and brought it down upon all her other wounds with marvellous force. Her voice rang out across the littoral as her ass squeezed down on my tool like a velvet vice. My self-control collapsed, the alluvion Gates opening in her bunghole as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal retentive brawn to spasm, milking my cock for all it was worth. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to pass on 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 sharpness of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly gained consciousness as the alloy tip ripped through her bowels, spewing line of descent down the shaft of the spear. Unfortunately for her the Angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her take down bones, it got wedged among her costa, preventing her from dying a ready decease. I left her there, staring at me with half glazed eye as her ass leaked cum and her pussy blood.
It was by now time 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 checkup knowledge being what it is, we left her wish that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody dry land. While we were fucking, three more woman had been caught from a nearby barn. One of them was a very short-change thin lady friend, barely 18, with trivial of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddle well, and it fell upon her to lie flat on the Equus caballus's back her kitty-cat accessible to my prick. The other women were either tied and put in the donkey cart or, in shell of one who'd bitten a freebooter, dragged behind the go-cart.
It was a pleasurable ride back, my prick sawing in and out of her tight orifice as I rode on the horse. It was a special chief's privilege ( not formally of grade ) to despoil a woman on hogback, and as I pumped my load into her defenseless kitty-cat, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a genuine top dog of my kin. Sadly, my destiny was different.
The starting time signs of the ill wind were received in the very hour I returned from this first-class raid. A few of our prize gymnastic horse 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 woman to be tended by the attendants as they saw fit, I headed straight for the chiefs'hut, where worried and dying faces met me.
"Rashid, do you know what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the flow head of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were murmurs of annoyance at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to bear in mind. Instead he told the group about the cavalry ( and women ) I'd captured during the maraud. Most of them listened to the particular with strange stake, the reason for which became clear only when I learnt that the raid by the regular leader on a different tribe had been a signaling failure.

I'm not one to gloat over my victory, rather I'd prefer to head into another battle. This time however, the adjacent engagement came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich Khan, an elder who had a hereditary disfavour for my family unit, stood up"My buddy, it becomes authorise that the rash actions of this youthful man are the reason behind the failure of our foray today. He took our best horses, reduced our telephone number, and forced the elders to attack a lesser place."
I was stunned. The horses belonged to us, captured personally by me and my friends during the previous raids. As for the men, it was an loose secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a representative choked with anger I pointed this out. His disputation 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 bitterness and angriness, which I found hard to distract. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my detractor had a good funding in the council, I had none. The contention were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no demand to describe the tribal arguments in detail. You were thrown out shortly prior to the annihilation of your tribe by the Yalitiz tribe. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But platter tell us there were only three people in the group that arrived. Where did the fourth go ?"
Rashid looked with a dour expression at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the chronicle ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you speak Rashid. Please continue."
"Fine. Have it your way, the Sooner we're done the better. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decisiveness was taken, I was asked to leave within twenty four hours. All our cows were taken away in yield for the paltry sum of 5000 Moroccan dirham. All we were left with were a domestic ass and my horse. To make matters worse, as I was leaving, that bunghole again spoke up
‘ And take your trollop baby with you. We don't want her ruining our boy'manhood."
I took it as an offhand insult. Cursing the state of matter of affairs, 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 affront turning out to be true.
My home back then was at the sharpness of a small ridge, a downfall from which would not kill you but break your limbs. It was separated from the hamlet proper by a diminished space which housed the stables of the folk. As I checked on my horse cavalry to make certain it was in good wellness should I actually have to evacuate the future day, I was surprised to witness the sound of a girl coming from behind them.
Wondering what on earth was happening in my own tribal al-Qa'ida, I peered round the edge of the stable, and was stunned to get hold my older sis with a man. unsound, not only was she barren au naturel but he was in fact a member of one of our rival folk, one which had waged a war of vengeance against us not long ago. He must own sneaked into the village, but that didn't explain why he was with my sister or why she was moaning loudly as he rammed into her wet hole.
Uptil that time I'd known myself as a balanced mortal, one who could check himself and his anger. That was the first time I lost this self control, and all because of a stupefied slut of a sister. Letting out a roaring, I had my steel in my hand before either of them were aware of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her pussy as I swept the blade in an arc an in from my sister's terrified fount, slicing her buff's neck into two His fountainhead, the facial expression of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the primer even as his soundbox continued to twitch from the mixture of ejaculation and death muscle spasm.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to push him out. This she did in a shock, her eyes filling up with tears at this violent turn of events. I would have strangled her to Death then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very second. unfit, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich khan.
The scrawny bastard had been watching the transactions even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a legal brief while from his hiding place behind a Rock. I brandished my steel 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 make issue worse, she had, in her reckless passion, headed behind the stables leaving her clothes behind a shrub that was in the demonstrate setting a sea mile off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her clothes, but saw a crew gathered there by the time I returned. The kid had cooked up as fib about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the enemy but preferred to consult with the elders before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my nerve now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very piffling influence on the creative thinker of the prepossess minds of the elders. When that stupid fart called Qaglich spoke of how the liquor were unhappy with me and my family, it was the end of any hopes I may let hitherto entertained. worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the fair sex of the menage, instead encouraging them into base acts unbecoming of a great tribe.
You'd understand that the pain was nothing to me, hell, I'd felt much greater pain in combat. It was the humiliation that hurt me most. That old wind's son wielded the whip, and l solidus were what I got, swearing to avenge each one of them on the lawsuit of my pity. There was public lecture of stoning the lady of pleasure to end, but I wanted to punish her myself. So my admirer were surprised when I asked that she be left alone. The senior agreed on consideration that we packed up and left before dawn the next day.
My back burning at the stake, I headed back with my burlap hammock covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The moment we got home, she landed hard on the storey from a backhand slap on her fair cheek. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the women of the kin so worked up. I explained in as many word of honor that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the dissever sleeping elbow room for the female person that she began to sob. I was too besotted to mean about the future immediately, rather I wanted to punish the whore. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like hawk, causing me to devote my meter and attending to the task of packing affair. Not that there was much to pack. We aren't a full-bodied kin group, and ever since my father was removed things have gotten spoiled - he atleast knew how to sell.
As I tended to the horse and domestic ass, getting them ready, my mother and sister packed up, the hangdog one simply sat in a street corner crying, too stunned by the unrelenting end of her devotee to respond. The packing was done by midnight, and we were set up to entrust by the time the first rays of the sun were breaking through the rugged hills in the distance. It was common cold, but I refused to let the perpetrator wear anything beyond the gunny bag she'd been given by one of the village fille upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the customary salutation given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few I. F. Stone 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 third base of our country.
As the palisade wall grew smaller, I turned back to the three fair sex in the dorsum, and was annoyed to find the elder of my footmark sis clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my anger, and sought to liaise.
‘ Please she's a young girlfriend, give her a chance."
"opportunity. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to take lashes from that half breed Qaglich's wimp. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M untried stepsister was weeping silently, hugging the older one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the half-baked road was all that lay ahead and behind us. The succeeding stoppage was a good 20 miles away. I decided this was as undecomposed a time as any to penalise my working girl baby. Stopping my sawbuck, I asked the adult female to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the immature girl by her hanker hair and pulled her mastered onto the hot Baroness Dudevant, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old char came side by side, pulled bodily down and thrown away. The slovenly woman, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my clutches cashbox I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her towards me.
She made one end cause to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the human face, knocking half her white teeth down her throat. rip erupted from her sassing, as she fell to her knees, her hands folded as she begged me with wide eyes. For the first, and death metre in my lifespan, I noticed how reasonably she was. Having a roundish face like her female parent, she had wide brown eyes and hair that could pass of as brown. At 19, she still had freckle, but appeared well developed in the consistence. Good enough for a colza, 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 blackguard head of hair, her rima oris, resembling that of a 7 year old youngster now, making mussitate noise. I held her up before me, looking into the mark eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lashes, the riddance and the gloating expression of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My hand almost dropped her as the force of my slap on her cheek rocked her thin body. more than bloodline erupted from her cheek, her centre now screwed up in pan from the commixture of fear and pain.
As the other two female person looked on in scourge, I threw her on the ground, landing three hard kicks on the burqa clad figure. She rolled into a fetal position, her face wrinkled by an reflection of ague pain. You'd ask me how I could punish my own sister like that. Well I have no question I would have punished a thousand of my babe like that, and spoiled, if they did anything of the sort. Plus I'd never regarded them as baby, or my stepmother as my female parent. They simply existed so I could do my duty to the tribe while they did the work at home.
Hence I felt no pricks of that thing you call sense of right and wrong as I watched the female person writhe in agony on the hot Baroness Dudevant. In fact, I landed another hard on her ribs, causing a snap strait. She looked at me with an grammatical construction of awe and revulsion, never having expected her own"brother"to be so cruel. At that present moment however, I felt knotted hands on my dresser, 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 creditworthy as she'd raised a whore like Sahiba, and she should be repenting instead of asking for clemency. She returned to Anima, the younger little girl, and both resumed their crying.
The daughter had lain on the ground for some time now, and in spite of her painful sensation, must have realized that the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to cower away, a tone of utter desperation on her face. If she'd shown the same desperation while trying to balk that man, she wouldn't have suffered this luck. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this gunpoint I'd had no finical aim apart from punishing her to the fullest extent possible. It was probably she wouldn't survive the ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a cocotte to die for shaming her family. Unfortunately for her, as she made another endeavour to grovel away, the lower region of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty thighs to my regard. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see Thomas More of her soundbox.
back in the village I would receive abstained from any such action, as that may make earned me an extrusion as well. Now however, there was no one for Roman mile around, and she was not the rude youthful girl but a sobbing brute who would anyhow be punished. Might as well puddle this concentrated oeuvre a little more gratifying for myself.
She collapsed on the hot ground as she saw me bend down. Did she wait me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? in all probability she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the textile of the burqa was comparatively slight, causing it to pull 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 baby, I pulled Sahiba up by her waist.
The hot Sand helped again, for it burnt her uncover pelt, causing her to willingly permit me to pick her up. Infact, I soon had the female child in my subdivision, having spared her the torture of the hot sand. Her terrified eyes, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the brat of returning to the hot sand bed. As she considered the option in that pillock mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood in those full pink petals for the first off and finally time. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the prospect of being brutally raped on the basis. But I had no intent of sparing her any of her agony. Pulling away, I ripped off the rest of her burqa as she danced on the hot grit, then threw her tough on the earth again.
Her wow wasn't as melodious as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dismal loneliness of the desert. I kicked the worm physical body on the ground right in between her wooden leg, eliciting another musical howling from my"babe ”. Much as she'd have liked to persist in the curled up position she now assumed, the guts would not let her. Unwindng she made a desperate attempt to escape. This only placed her in a temporary doggie vogue, allowing me to press my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the priming coat. As her body met the ground again, she screamed, this time begging me to pop her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend plenty time punishing her, and the sun was getting high over our fountainhead. Soon, she would be roasting on the sand if she lay there : I had to be active fast. She was again in a fawn position, almost up on her feet this prison term. I allowed her to get up, and run a few footstep, 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 younger baby turn up, pulling in vain at my strong subdivision as they held her slut sister. As I finally began dragging her vertebral column, I felt a burning pain in my wrist. The kick had bitten me !
TO make thing worse, the strumpet whore, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to break relinquish and run even as her sister remained latched onto my bloody wrist joint. Smarting under the pain in the ass in my wrist, I broke free from the unseasoned little girl with a hard punch to her stomach, before giving Salmon Portland Chase to my fleeing captive. She did not arrive at it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could cook off on my gymnastic horse. As she learnt to her disheartenment, the gymnastic horse was more loyal to me than she had been, and refused to agitate. Her bungling pulling at its reins caused it to land a strong kick on one of her legs, causing her to collapse on the George Sand. I reached her and landed half a twelve laborious flush on every part of her body, breaking her teeth, rib and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the strength to get up from the sand though it was turning her back from a burnished red to brown.
atrophy no more time, I kicked her peg apart and freed my member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the medical prognosis of fucking a refreshed pussy. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her whore hole as she continued to writhe in pain. Like Farhana she could not behave to appear into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this time I didn't force her to. Instead I grabbed her fleshy knoll, modest than Farhana's, but bigger than the ordinary cunt you find in those component part. Mauling and pinching them hard, I looked at her typeface, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the brink of passing out from the pain in her loins and in her vertebral column, forcing me to slap her a few times to control she felt every moment of her straining.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her twat for some clock time. It was tight, warm and had it not been the open desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken dandy delight in raping her. Not that I did not savor her charms, especially the occasional credit crunch on my cock when her already roasting form touched more singe Baroness Dudevant, or my hand played with the various portion of her slutty body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the circumstances a good matter as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speed, my push causing her to shake like a rag wench on the flat coat, her eyes rolling in her head from the intense pain in her body. On purpose I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to press down upon it even as my thrusts caused her soft skin to rub against the gravelly grains. As I approached sexual climax, she again appeared to be passing out, and this time I had to grab her nipples, pulling her up by their weight. Any relief this would have given her from the backbone was more than made up by the torture in her breasts, for she howled out like a flail dog. Her puss clenched mingy than ever on my cock, asking for her"blood brother's"seed. My hammer obliged, exploding in her snatch with an intensity which caused the desert and the heat to disappear for a moment as I was lost in pure blissfulness.
I came for what seemed like an eternity. By the meter I was done she had passed out, but had a faint heart rate. Not wishing to waste any of our precious water on the whore, I instead pulled her onto the horse like the pussy the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to pursue. They had little choice in the issue, complying with my dictation like two thrashed donkeys. Satisfied that it was leaving nix to the desert apart from the iota of Sahiba's burqa, I mounted my horse, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a small delicacy for the forbearance it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to incite however, turned the slut ‘ sis'over, so that her comely mamilla were replaced by the brownish-red cover. Spreading her ass cheeks, I aimed my cock at her rear ingress. She offered no combat-ready resistor, still being passed out. Her cocksucker was surprisingly easy to riddle, making me inquire if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibilities, I pushed my hardening cock into her fundament. Satisfied that it was indeed inside, I raised her bridge player and tied them behind my neck. This put her weight upon my cervix, but it was the lonesome solution as she wasn't as short as that other cunt. It had the added attractive force of causing an intense botheration in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was ready, I took ascendency of the horse with one hand and my pegleg, having been trained to fire bow from horseback in this fashion. The rid mitt went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a trot, resuming the journeying across the wasteland wastes at the capitulum of my"fellowship ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive literary criticism and prompting, including how the plot of land should carry on, are always welcome. Inconsistencies, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for indication .