this story was written based on the idea of a reader. However the plot of ground and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme point violence and cruelty. Please note that the author wishes to describe a fictional world which has no connection to any place, person or sentiment whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme violence, including execution and mutiliation, do n't learn this. If you can strike it, hope you enjoy it.
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The Specialist
"trade good even Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chairwoman looked up with half closed eyes, the petite torch in the room insufficient to tell his expression. The man circling him however, did not look to need such information, he had all he wanted. Well almost.
"What do you desire ?"asked the man in the chairperson, getting up menacingly."How did you get in here ?"
"Wouldn't it be wiser to ask who we are ? Or do you already bonk ?"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 goodness things about you, and we're impressed. But before we can trust you, we'd like the whole story."
"If you know so much already, I've nothing more to severalize you. If you don't know, you don't need to bed. Now get the piece of tail out of here."He took two quick whole tone towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a mysterious fool on your wrist, Mr Rashid. tutelage to begin with how you got it ?"
"Some kick bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a stray dog"he waved his slew steel casually"kindly give the details. And yes, you can take in a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the elbow room for Thomas More assailants. He quickly noticed two more than blocking the doors to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low spark, Rashid's instincts told him they were armed. safety valve was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to fuck quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could trust you with the whole story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the Salmon P. Chase Rashid"
"Fine, fine. Where do I begin ? You know I'm not a native, my skin color says as much. You would also know by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a blame stead filled with nothing but guns and sand. And oh yes, a few dozen folk always at each other's throat. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call it the Jamalliya tribe.
My dad was a close congener of the headman, so I'd a upright probability of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the other families feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My mother gave me to a relative who's husband and son had been killed during a Holocene raid. I never saw my mother again. My new family consisted of two girls and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the girls grew curves and I developed muscle. But in these waste lands there's picayune time to enjoy family life, and men and women are generally expected to live apart and do their own workplace. If you excel in your work, you get a position on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your family taken away.
There's little to distinguish oneself in in those arid lands beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing children, if you're a cleaning woman. I had voltage in the early, having learnt to tantalise a horse by the time I was ten, and could shoot from the saddle by 16. I also had a cruel streak, they used to say. When we raided the villages of the opposition kindred ( and once a outsider'oil company part ), the men used to first kill all adult male, then take the women. By women I mean any pussy that was ten years and above. We were left with the rest. Among them were the old women and the small fry. I developed a habit of plunging my steel into the stomach of those old men and cleaning woman, hearing them thigh-slapper in their fruity vocalism before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the heads of my killing back to the village, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the raid.
Now you'd say, what nimbus is there in killing old women ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs real glory if he's to find a position of might in the tribe. All the more so in my vitrine since there were those who were determined to prevent me getting the headship. So I formed my own grouping of freebooter, composed of men of my age. With them I used to bust the villages without financial support, sometimes being forced to withdraw when things got too hot. At former times however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended village who's cleaning lady had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
get-go we would go from house to firm, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leader, I didn't order all the teenaged male child to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talents, made part of our group. The cleaning lady on the other hand, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their body having aught to offer in return for sparing their animation. I followed the common methods of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up teat, watching them implode in a bally spate as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, golden rain shower erupted from between their pegleg.
The instant group consisted of women between 30 and fifty, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but youthful enough to be raped. They were tied by their hired man to the rod, their shtup 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 line of saltation women with exposed pussies. Leaving two to three men in billing of the young group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to business enterprise. Each woman was different to be good, and to the highest degree hear to feed their secure to persuade us to let them experience. Some however, glared at us as we violated their most familiar areas. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the assault resumed again.
I could state you about a dozen or so cleaning woman who stood out for their exceptional tightness and indeed, performance on my shaft. Sadly a just majority of them must have been prudes, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 year old charwoman ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a woman was blinded there was piffling use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a turn on her to try out her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd belt down the residuum. 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 prick. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the bloody seminal fluid from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to kill them directly, beheading them with one quick slash of my blade. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on picture have you ? well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the time we'd learnt to ride a horse, so to address. And there's something unique about the way her clayey chief, eyes still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big round orb placed atop a slenderize receptacle. If you were soundly enough, you could catch the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other hand into the sonant neck opening as well.
Anyway, once the second chemical group had been raped, and a in force many killed off, the few who wanted to contain souvernirs did so, chopping off arm, heads ( if they'd gutted the woman ) and tits as the rest of us surveyed the most of the essence of the three grouping. This stopping point group consisted of the youngest females, from zero to twentynine. The point was to get the charwoman who could be future breeders, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raids think of going of good female person for all federation of tribes. We had to secure female person from others if we were to survive at all.
There were women in our folk who would inspect the huddle together female person and decide who was fertile who was not. For the moment however, it was the physical attributes such as the curve of the waist, the weighting of the breasts ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the wideness of the thighs, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the mob, I got the 1st pick. The unity I picked were usually not more than than 20, though I didn't rape women younger than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the considerably stuff, the ones whose sound titty hung like right melons on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My choices had thin waistline, preferably with farsighted hair that covered their book binding. And I liked women who were a little feisty.
One such spunky woman was Farhana. I've leave what her kindred was, we conducted so many raids you see. But she was a real dish. Have you seen the female slave brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the Elwyn Brooks White colour of the comfortably of them, with milky breasts that defy gravity ? Do you remark the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to breed them ? have you noticed the face of lustful love in their demure centre ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a nicety 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this time I was 21, about 6'4 and more hefty than any in my gang. My"female parent"said I was handsome. It didn't matter when we raided though. The foray that caught Farhana was a particularly arid one, yielding just four fertile female person and an old crone we tied to the back of the donkey cart carrying the women. Someone said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more appealing by her exquisite Oriental case and orotund eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the middle of her small hut, defending a short man of about forty. Once I'd dispatched of the Noel Coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the eye of the village. This appeared to be a particularly inadequate village, lacking even a in force stables. Since there were so few women, we decided to simply shake off them on the priming coat and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the ground, her burqa lifting to show up her slim white pegleg. Giving a warning glare to the others, I asked them to take their own cleaning woman and get down to work.
For my role I prevented her from getting up by placing a groundwork on her abdomen, gently pressing her down feather. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her paw to grave me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few gripe on her sparse shank. Pointing my blade at her chest of drawers, 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 eyes, boring into them, making my supremacy and power over her frail form patent of invention.
She couldn't hold on up the intensity for long, looking away with a spirit that said she'd understood what would materialise to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my groundwork, I lowered myself beside her. language were impossible as the thigh-slapper of the rest of the cleaning lady drowned any speech. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a cleaning lady 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 feet, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't care, ripping off her official document of reserve in a fell move that casued some of her hair to bust off as well. I pocketed it as a souvenir. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the dust as it spread out in grand fold around her head. Her sass were full and pink, the way l liked them.
immobilizing her workforce with mine, I lowered myself till her tits touched my chest, her face just edge away from my athirst back talk. Pressing down further, I touched my back talk with hers. They were like soft petal, parting at my touch to allow me to suck in them, as a substantial lover would. Parting them foster, I probed deeper with my tongue, loving the way her mouth tasted. I sought out her glossa, finding the organ as it sought to avoid tangency, but it could scarcely get out. 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 woman's plea to be treated like a married woman. I chuckled at her naiveness, seeing the Hope turn of events to ashes in those brown pools. My lip parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my helping hand on the cone shape my pectus had felt earlier. They were soft and prominent, like soft bags waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused hands. Grabbing her slender burqa, I began to rip it off. The public eye in her eyes returned, but it was immediately replaced by a unaccented plea"Please not in world. Not like this."I continued to tear away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her second joint. Pushing the soft smutty material away, I quickly disposed of her thin undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent mammilla to my hungry regard.
They stood up like small hills even as she lay matte, making me wonder how much they'd have stood out had she not hide them under her burka when I dragged her out. I couldn't control myself as I grabbed her turgid brown nipples, each a licorice nub an inch and a half hanker, pulling them hard. Her voice joined the chorus of shriek around us, but I could still form out her musical howler."Please master, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palms on the nips, enjoying the feel of their hard wind. Pressing down till my fingers covered her intact mounds, I began to pull the shape into my palm, till my fingers were buried in her chest, clamping her meat into my vice like hands.
I stayed like that for a minute, loving the silky flesh against my rough hands. The sight too was magnificent, her fairly flesh exposed and abused by my gravid palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the deep red marks made on her breast, one of which was leaking a trickle of blood. Smiling, I pressed down again, this time squeezing with all my might, causing her center to broaden to their maximum extent, her backtalk opening wide to discharge an expression of let out agony. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an creative person to capture that look for me.
But meter was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could return at any moment to bring havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the blood from her tits on her shoot down burqa, before beginning to rip the balance of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her feet, and the moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed charge hit me on the nose. Stopping my rape on her dress, I moved higher, till my angry kisser was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any exculpation, I'd landed to hard slap on her brass, causing one to wrench blue. Blood erupted from her sass, which I sucked away before tearing the rest period of her burka off.
Her underskirt was made of a thick-skulled cloth that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her waist. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely legs to my gaze. Grabbing the flimsy brown mortise joint, I forcibly pulled her pegleg apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a futile attempt to raise herself from the dusty ground, but one hard lick on her flat tummy ended such ambitions instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and shaggy-coated, making me wonder if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a clean cunt. Grabbing a handful of her pubic region I ripped them off, causing her to chute on her ass in painfulness. Another clump came off, then another, till her skin was irritated and damn, while weeping freely ran down the red and puritanical streaks on her cheeks.
My prick was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding dress. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her head in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"humanness, and quite thick too. Her centre followed my putz in mental rejection as it made its way towards her tight cunt. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll pull my dry porta. Please, at least lubricate it."She realized the implications of her request too late. My pecker traced a track 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 pathetic request, the present moment her mouth opened for an appeal my dick went in. As her eyes bulged along with her mistreat cheeks, I felt a soaked moist feeling engulf my dick. eagre for more, I pushed harder, slamming my cock against the cover of her straits. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my shaft as it pressed against her skull. In this posture, it'd be hard to push it down her pharynx, 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 overnice and wet for her nether lips.
I don't think she'd ever taken a pecker in her mouthpiece before, for she was soon gagging, trying to escape from her psyche. This had the effect of causing my dick to slap against the inside of her cheeks, which had presumably been damaged by my heavy smack. She winced and gave up the endeavour, breathing through her nose as I instructed her. I picked up stride, fucking her cockeyed mouthpiece with neat heartiness, but heedful not to cum yet. I'm sure she'd have hoped at some item that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to assault her pussy. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist cock out of her abused sass, and aiming it at her pussycat. Her mouth was not yet subject of speaking, and I used this silence to mean she was set for her vaginal invasion.
As with every assault I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any confidential information of tenderness. In one swift stroke I was in, realizing only when I'd broken it than she had been a Virgin. Pulling it out, I admired the red streaks on my stopcock, before burying it fully into her pussy. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably slopped. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to make believe the well-nigh out of this stroke of portion. Still marvelling at the stringency of her hole, I grabbed the sides of her thighs, and gradually pulled out, only to fight back again with with child force out.
My lover howled in pain, shaking her drumhead and making incoherent movements with her limbs as she tried in vain to escape from the searing agony that must experience been pulsing through her body from her vagina. I now began to do it her with greater military group, pummeling her tummy and mamilla every time she tried to shift herself. A little sound told me I'd likely go one of her ribs, but I didn't'care - she existed for my joy, and I was getting it. It was as if her torso was designed to allow me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain, for as she screwed up her eyes and screamed into the sky, her purulent brawniness seemed to squeeze me harder and harder, till she sent me over the edge. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this fourth dimension I kissed her, forcing her blackguard lips to go for me again, this time with no Hope of any tenderness.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a long time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the unseasoned of my caller, staring at me with eyes that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a skillful lad, having saved my life sentence in a previous sortie when a horseman almost had me from the backrest. He had been left to guard the entry to the village, and though this was wonted for the youthful of the gang, he clearly rued the missed probability. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in shame and walked off. That's when I decided that Farhana had one hole left still. I called out to Yaldir.
The lad turned around abruptly, his face clearly showing the penalty a somebody found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a captive in the open ) could require. Instead he heard his chief calling upon him to show his manfulness to the whore who'd birthed the enemy offspring. For a instant he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to have got thought her ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a virile unseasoned man fall in her raper, she began to crawl away, her eyes showing a desperation seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his knob'whore, whether to snap up and plunder her or to wait for me to take the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her human knee, he grabbed her and knocked her down. I walked over casually, surveying his physique with appreciation. Nodding at him to withdraw his clothes, I pulled the cleaning lady towards me, throwing away the remnants of her burka. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to examine her ass hole as Yaldir's 7 inch cock was exposed. I signalled him to begin with her mouth as I began to prepare for the intrusion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some kind of referee during this phase of her misdemeanour. These Leslie Townes Hope would have got been rudely tattered when I pressed my hawkshaw against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my digit. Yaldir had already made his way into her unwritten porta, her body gently rocking as he fucked her. For a moment I wished I'd used her mouth in this place, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the early mitt aimed directly at her ruck up brown hole. The gunk from her mouthpiece and pussy and my cock still there to act as lube, I plunged my appendage into her live on virgin kettle of fish.
Farhana would cause screamed had Yaldir not been taking her sass. In the upshot she gagged on his rooster, causing him to pull out. This led to her completing her scream, before I signalled him to crowd his dick back in. On my part, her backdoor, even pixilated than her slit, coupled with the musical thigh-slapper emanating from her mouth, caused my cock to temper inside her dead body. This growth made her ass seem all the more crocked, her anal muscleman likely tearing as they suffered the first invasion of her short life.
My pleasance, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our chief pathfinder. He had just gotten newsworthiness that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't arrest aloof from the sex view unfolding before him. I handed him my horse whip, instructing him to worst her across her back, but avoid our cock or her manpower and ramification.
The first bump of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew better than to draw in out this time, instead enjoying the extra tightness of her throat. At the Saame clip the pressure of her anal muscles on my cock was improbable. Timing my next stroke for the next nose candy, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a woman's anal heftiness squeezing one's pecker desperately as the thick corded party whip landed on her thin shank. I pulled out and ( Whack ! ) slammed in again. wham whack whack. Her Stanford White backside was developing red wale, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the crossroad. wham on her shoulder blades, whack on her lower backrest, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a rhythm by now, fucking her like a long celestial pole 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 orgasm, forcing the others to prevent in tune, forcing the prostitute between us to adjust till she could adjust no more. As a lash appeared right wing across her lower dorsum to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him close his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's head to his groin as he came in her sassing. As he finished up, I realized I too could not hold for long. Taking a smaller party whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to arrest. Instead I aimed the whiplash unbowed across her back and brought it down upon all her other wounds with tremendous force. Her voice rang out across the sands as her ass squeezed down on my cock like a velvet vice. My self-discipline collapsed, the outpouring William Henry Gates opening in her asshole as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal muscleman to spasm, milking my shaft 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 drained by this time, so we hoisted her up over the sharpness of a shaft, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly gained knowingness as the metal tip ripped through her bowels, spewing blood down the dick of the lance. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her downhearted castanets, it got wedged among her costa, preventing her from dying a quick destruction. I left her there, staring at me with half glazed eyes as her ass leaked cum and her pussy blood.
It was by now time to go back. Some of the early women who'd been used by the looter were similarly dispatched. The shaft of a gig broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. Medical knowledge being what it is, we left her care that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody ground. While we were fucking, three more women had been caught from a nearby barn. One of them was a very brusk thin girl, barely 18, with fiddling of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddle well, and it fell upon her to lie plane on the sawbuck's back her puss accessible to my prick. The other women were either tied and put in the domestic ass cart or, in case of one who'd burn a looter, dragged behind the cart.
It was a pleasurable ride back, my prick sawing in and out of her nasty orifice as I rode on the horse. It was a special head's exclusive right ( not formally of form ) to rape a woman on horseback, and as I pumped my incumbrance into her defenceless cunt, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a substantial chief of my federation of tribes. Sadly, my lot was different.
The first signs of the ill winding were received in the very hour I returned from this first-class raid. A few of our prize buck had been stolen by another tribe, and the pursuing party had been killed in combat. Among them was my cousin, and this incensed me no end. Leaving the women to be tended by the attendants as they saw fit, I headed straight for the chiefs'hut, where worried and queasy faces met me.
"Rashid, do you experience what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the flow nous of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were murmurs of annoyance at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to mind. Instead he told the grouping about the buck ( and women ) I'd captured during the raid. near of them listened to the details with unusual interest, the reason for which became clear only when I learnt that the raid by the habitue leader on a unlike tribe had been a signal loser.

I'm not one to gloat over my victory, rather I'd prefer to steer into another battle. This clock time however, the future battle came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich Khan, an senior who had a hereditary dislike for my family, stood up"My comrade, it becomes authorise that the reckless actions of this Loretta Young man are the reason behind the loser of our maraud today. He took our honest horses, reduced our numbers game, and forced the elders to aggress a lesser place."
I was stunned. The horses belonged to us, captured personally by me and my friends during the old raid. As for the men, it was an overt secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a voice choked with anger I pointed this out. His line of reasoning was even more ridiculous as the attack on a lesser surface area had failed. But the elderberry bush were by now looking at me with a mix of jaundice and anger, which I found hard to deflect. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my knocker had a good backing in the council, I had none. The debate were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no penury to draw the tribal arguments in point. You were thrown out shortly prior to the annihilation of your federation of tribes by the Yalitiz kinship group. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But record tell us there were only three people in the group that arrived. Where did the twenty-five percent go ?"
Rashid looked with a sullen expression at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breathing time, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the report ?"
"You know very well we're here to learn you talk Rashid. Please continue."
"amercement. Have it your way, the sooner we're done the better. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decision was taken, I was asked to leave within twenty four 60 minutes. All our cattle were taken away in return for the paltry sum of 5000 dirham. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse cavalry. To make subject risky, as I was leaving, that asshole again spoke up
‘ And select your slut sister with you. We don't want her ruining our boy'manhood."
I took it as an offhand affront. Cursing the State of affairs, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the conclusion, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would make succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be true.
My home back then was at the edge of a little ridge, a decline from which would not kill you but break your branch. It was separated from the small town proper by a small length which housed the stable of the kin. As I checked on my sawbuck to make certainly it was in good health should I actually have to evacuate the next day, I was surprised to find the strait of a young woman coming from behind them.
Wondering what on earth was happening in my own tribal base, I peered fill out the border of the unchanging, and was stunned to come up my one-time sister with a man. sorry, not only was she stark raw but he was in fact a appendage of one of our rival federation of tribes, one which had waged a war of vengeance against us not long ago. He must have sneaked into the village, but that didn't explain why he was with my sister or why she was moaning loudly as he rammed into her wet hole.
Uptil that time I'd known myself as a balanced person, one who could see to it himself and his choler. That was the first time I lost this self controller, and all because of a stupid fornicatress of a babe. Letting out a roar, I had my sword in my bridge player before either of them were cognizant of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her cunt as I swept the steel in an arc an inch from my sister's terrified font, slicing her lover's cervix into two His head teacher, the construction of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the ground even as his consistence continued to squeeze from the salmagundi of ejaculation and expiry spasms.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to push him out. This she did in a shock, her middle filling up with bust at this violent tour of events. I would stimulate strangled her to last then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very present moment. defective, it was the full cousin of that old farting, Qaglich caravanserai.
The scrawny illegitimate child had been watching the proceedings even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a abbreviated while from his hiding post behind a stone. 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 odour the moment the kid went and told them.
To make issue worse, she had, in her reckless cacoethes, headed behind the stalls leaving her apparel behind a bush that was in the give circumstances a stat mi off. Cursing I headed there to call up her clothes, but saw a crowd gathered there by the clock 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 opposition but preferred to bestow with the elders before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my nerve now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very little influence on the minds of the prejudiced minds of the elders. When that stupid fart called Qaglich spoke of how the spirits were unhappy with me and my family, it was the end of any hopes I may throw hitherto entertained. Worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the cleaning woman of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral acts unbecoming of a great tribe.
You'd understand that the annoyance was nix to me, infernal region, I'd felt often greater pain in combat. It was the humiliation that hurt me most. That old farting's son wielded the whip, and fifty dollar bill cerebrovascular accident were what I got, swearing to revenge each one of them on the cause of my shame. There was talk of stoning the whore to last, but I wanted to punish her myself. So my friends were surprised when I asked that she be left alone. The elders agreed on condition that we packed up and left before dawn the next day.
My back burning, I headed back with my burlap sack covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The second we got menage, she landed hard on the floor from a backhand stroke slap on her funfair impudence. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the womanhood of the clan so worked up. I explained in as many run-in that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the come apart quiescence room for the females that she began to sob. I was too pissed to think about the future immediately, rather I wanted to punish the woman of the street. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like hawks, causing me to pay my sentence and attention to the task of packing matter. Not that there was much to jam. We aren't a deep kinship group, and ever since my founder was removed matter have gotten big - he atleast knew how to swap.
As I tended to the sawbuck and donkeys, getting them fix, my female parent and sister packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a box crying, too stunned by the brutal end of her fan to oppose. The packing was done by midnight, and we were quick to go forth by the time the first rays of the sun were breaking through the rugged hills in the aloofness. It was frigidness, but I refused to let the culprit wear anything beyond the gunny bag she'd been given by one of the village girls upon being discovered nude.
The villagers gave us none of the wonted greetings given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few Isidor Feinstein Stone behind our caravan ( my mother 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 donkey ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge surface area that covers two thirds of our country.
As the palisade bulwark grew smaller, I turned back to the three woman in the back, and was annoyed to find the elder of my step sis clad in a burka. My stepmother sensed my wrath, and sought to intercede.
‘ Please she's a young young lady, give her a chance."
"fortune. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to take lashes from that one-half breed Qaglich's wimp. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M younger half sister 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 next stop was a thoroughly twenty stat mi away. I decided this was as good a time as any to penalise my whore sister. Stopping my horse, I asked the women to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the younger girl by her long hair and pulled her down onto the hot sand, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old char came next, pulled bodily down and thrown away. The slut, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my clutch till I grabbed her stern and pulled her towards me.
She made one last effort to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the font, knocking half her egg white teeth down her throat. Blood erupted from her mouth, as she fell to her stifle, her hands folded as she begged me with wide eye. For the maiden, and lowest fourth dimension in my life, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish expression like her mother, she had wide brown heart and fuzz that could pass by of as brownness. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the eubstance. near enough for a rape, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the hair, I yanked her up. Her hired hand flew to her pervert mane, her mouth, resembling that of a 7 yr old child now, making mutter noises. I held her up before me, looking into the frightened eye, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lashes, the expulsion and the gloating face of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My deal almost dropped her as the force of my slap on her impertinence rocked her melt off body. More blood erupted from her face, her eyes now screwed up in pan from the mix of awe and pain.
As the other two females looked on in terror, I threw her on the priming coat, landing three concentrated kicks on the burka apparel figure. She rolled into a fetal placement, her nerve wrinkled by an manifestation of ague pain in the ass. You'd ask me how I could penalize my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would have punished a thousand of my Sister like that, and risky, if they did anything of the form. Plus I'd never regarded them as sisters, or my stepmother as my mother. They simply existed so I could do my duty to the tribe while they did the piece of work at home.
Hence I felt no bastard of that thing you call conscience as I watched the female person writhe in suffering on the hot sand. In fact, I landed another hard on her ribs, causing a crack sound. She looked at me with an look of awe and horror, never having expected her own"buddy"to be so cruel. At that moment however, I felt gnarled deal on my chest of drawers, and looked up to see"mother"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not kill her so. I told her that she was partly responsible as she'd raised a whore like Sahiba, and she should be repenting instead of asking for clemency. She returned to Anima, the jr. girl, and both resumed their crying.
The girl had lain on the ground for some prison term now, and in spite of her pain, must induce realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to grovel away, a look of emit desperation on her face. If she'd shown the Lapplander desperation while trying to resist that man, she wouldn't have suffered this destiny. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this period I'd had no peculiar aim apart from punishing her to the total extent potential. It was in all likelihood 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 grovel away, the lower portion of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty second joint to my gaze. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see more of her consistence.
back in the village I would ingest abstained from any such action, as that may have earned me an expulsion as well. Now however, there was no one for Admiralty mile around, and she was not the rude youthful girl but a sobbing wight who would anyhow be punished. might as well shit this severe study a little more pleasurable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot land as she saw me turn down. Did she expect me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? potential she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the stuff of the burqa was comparatively thin, causing it to tear in my work force, leaving her ass exposed to my gaze. Amid renewed howling and nemesis from the woman that had birthed the whore and her sister, I pulled Sahiba up by her waist.
The hot George Sand helped again, for it burnt her exposed skin, causing her to willingly tolerate me to pick her up. Infact, I soon had the girl in my arms, having spared her the torture of the hot sand. Her panic-stricken middle, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the terror of returning to the hot sand bed. As she considered the alternatives in that unintelligent idea of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty rip in those full pink petals for the number 1 and last clock time. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the medical prognosis of being brutally raped on the earth. But I had no aim of sparing her any of her agony. Pulling away, I ripped off the remainder of her burqa as she danced on the hot backbone, then threw her knockout on the ground again.
Her wow wasn't as melodious as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dreary bareness of the desert. I kicked the twist form on the basis right in between her legs, eliciting another musical howl from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to persist in the curled up position she now assumed, the sand would not let her. Unwindng she made a dire attempt to fly the coop. This only placed her in a temporary bow-wow style, allowing me to press my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the ground. As her torso met the ground again, she screamed, this time begging me to kill her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend enough time 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 cower position, almost up on her feet this time. I allowed her to get up, and run a few gait, 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 receive the younger sister turn up, pulling in vain at my strong blazon as they held her adulteress sister. As I finally began dragging her spinal column, I felt a burning pain in my articulatio radiocarpea. The bitch had bitten me !
TO make matters worse, the slut tart, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to break give up and run even as her Sister remained latched onto my bloody radiocarpal joint. Smarting under the bother in my wrist, I broke free from the untested daughter with a hard punch to her abdomen, before giving chase to my fleeing prisoner. She did not take it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could wee-wee off on my sawhorse. As she learnt to her dismay, the knight was more loyal to me than she had been, and refused to stir. Her clunky pulling at its reins caused it to land a severe kick on one of her legs, causing her to collapse on the sand. I reached her and landed half a dozen hard kicks on every part of her trunk, breaking her dentition, rib and weaponry. I stopped only when she no longer had the military capability to get up from the grit though it was turning her backrest from a burnished red to brown.
cachexia no more metre, I kicked her branch apart and freed my phallus from its confines. It instantly hardened at the vista of fucking a sassy slit. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her fancy woman hole as she continued to writhe in botheration. Like Farhana she could not conduct to face into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this time I didn't force her to. Instead I grabbed her sarcoid mounds, smaller than Farhana's, but with child than the average puss you find in those theatrical role. 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 pain in her loin and in her binding, forcing me to slap her a few times to see she felt every moment of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her pussy for some time. It was tight, warm and had it not been the subject desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken bang-up pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her charms, especially the occasional clinch on my pecker when her already roasting flesh touched more scorch sand, or my hand played with the various theatrical role of her slutty body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the luck a good thing as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up amphetamine, my jabbing causing her to rock like a rag doll on the priming coat, her eyes rolling in her head from the acute painful sensation in her dead body. On aim I pressed down on her shank, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to press down upon it even as my thrusts caused her soft hide to rub against the rough metric grain. As I approached orgasm, 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 own given her from the sand was more than than made up by the torment in her breasts, for she howled out like a thrashed dog. Her puss clenched tighter than ever on my stopcock, asking for her"brother's"seed. My rooster obliged, exploding in her bitch with an loudness which caused the desert and the hotness 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 pulsing. Not wishing to run off any of our precious water on the lady of pleasure, I instead pulled her onto the knight like the bitch the day before, signalling to the two sobbing fair sex to follow. They had little choice in the matter, complying with my command like two thresh about donkeys. Satisfied that it was leaving nothing to the defect apart from the tag end of Sahiba's burqa, I mounted my sawbuck, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a humble treat for the longanimity it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to move however, turned the slut ‘ Sister'over, so that her fair tits were replaced by the brownish-red book binding. Spreading her ass cheeks, I aimed my cock at her stern entrance. She offered no active resistance, still being passed out. Her asshole was surprisingly easy to penetrate, making me wonder if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such opening, I pushed my hardening hammer into her arse. Satisfied that it was indeed inside, I raised her hands and tied them behind my cervix. This put her weight upon my cervix, but it was the only when result as she wasn't as short as that early snatch. It had the supply attraction of causing an intense pain in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was ready, I took control condition of the horse with one hand and my legs, having been trained to fire bows from horseback in this mode. The free hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a trot, resuming the journey across the barren wastes at the head of my"family ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive critique and suggestions, including how the plot should keep, are always receive. incompatibility, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for interpretation .