this story was written based on the idea of a reader. However the secret plan and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme force and cruelty. Please government note that the writer wishes to draw a false domain which has no link to any place, someone or view whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme violence, including murder and mutiliation, do n't record this. If you can take it, hope you enjoy it.
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The Specialist
"Good eventide Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chairman looked up with half closed eyes, the tiny torch in the elbow room insufficient to narrate his expression. The man circling him however, did not seem to need such data, 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 know ?"the well-dressed man who'd been circling the sometime, 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 skilful things about you, and we're shanghai. But before we can trust you, we'd like the hale story."
"If you know so much already, I've naught more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to know. Now get the fuck out of here."He took two quick stone's throw towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a deep mark on your wrist, Mr Rashid. guardianship to start out with how you got it ?"
"Some bitch bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a range dog"he waved his curved sword casually"kindly give the details. And yes, you can have a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the room for more assailant. He quickly noticed two more blocking the doorway to the steps and the balcony. Though hidden by the low brightness level, Rashid's instinct told him they were armed. Escape was unacceptable. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could rely you with the whole story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the chase Rashid"
"fine, fine. Where do I start out ? You know I'm not a native, my skin colour says as often. You would also know by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a damned space filled with zero but guns and sand. And oh yes, a few dozen kin group always at each other's pharynx. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's margin call it the Jamalliya folk.
My dad was a close congener of the headman, so I'd a well hazard of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the other syndicate feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My female parent gave me to a congenator who's husband and son had been killed during a recent foray. I never saw my mother again. My new family consisted of two daughter and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the girls grew curve and I developed muscle. But in these waste lands there's little sentence to enjoy class life-time, and men and women are generally expected to live apart and do their own work. If you excel in your piece of work, you get a berth on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your family taken away.
There's picayune to signalise oneself in in those arid Din Land beyond war if you're a man, and producing baby, if you're a cleaning woman. I had potential in the sometime, having learnt to drive a horse by the time I was ten, and could germinate from the saddleback by 16. I also had a cruel streak, they used to say. When we raided the village of the enemy folk ( and once a noncitizen'oil society part ), the men used to first defeat all adult male, then get hold of the char. By fair sex I mean any snatch that was ten yr and above. We were left with the rest. Among them were the old adult female and the children. I developed a habit of plunging my steel into the belly of those old men and charwoman, hearing them scream in their cracked voices before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the pass of my kills back to the village, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the maraud.
Now you'd say, what nimbus is there in killing old fair sex ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs existent nimbus if he's to find a position of business leader in the tribe. All the more so in my typesetter's case since there were those who were determined to prevent me getting the headship. So I formed my own group of spoiler, composed of men of my age. With them I used to raid the village without support, sometimes being forced to withdraw when things got too hot. At other meter however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended village who's women had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
first gear we would go from house to business firm, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leaders, I didn't rules of order all the teenaged boy to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talent, made piece of our group. The women on the early hand, were grouped by age. The onetime died first, their trunk having nothing to put up in return for sparing their life story. I followed the usual methods of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up tits, watching them implode in a blinking mess as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, golden showers erupted from between their leg.
The second radical consisted of women between 30 and fifty, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but young enough to be raped. They were tied by their hands to the perch, their arse either resting on the solid ground or raised in the air. Their legs were then stretched till they touched those of the succeeding char ; these were then tied, forming a long line of bounds cleaning woman with divulge pussies. Leaving two to three men in bursting charge of the youngest group, the residuum of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to commercial enterprise. Each cleaning lady was dissimilar to be reliable, and most sample to give their trump to persuade us to let them live. Some however, glared at us as we violated their most intimate region. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the assault resumed again.
I could tell you about a dozen or so women who stood out for their exceeding tautness and indeed, functioning on my cock. Sadly a trade good majority of them must have been puritan, 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 womanhood was blinded there was little 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 kill the rest. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a tongue into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their heart itself and blurt out to the feeling of a dying woman spasming on your shaft. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to lift out out some of the crashing semen from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to bolt down them directly, beheading them with one spry cerebrovascular accident of my sword. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on movie have you ? Well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the sentence we'd learnt to ride a cavalry, so to utter. And there's something unparalleled about the way her hard psyche, center still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big daily round glob placed atop a tenuous receptacle. If you were good enough, you could take hold of the nous as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other deal into the voiced neck as well.
Anyway, once the second group had been raped, and a ripe many killed off, the few who wanted to engage souvernirs did so, chopping off arm, nous ( if they'd gutted the woman ) and tits as the rest period of us surveyed the most crucial of the three radical. This live radical consisted of the youngest female person, from zero to twentynine. The full stop was to get the women who could be future tense breeders, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raids meant loss of undecomposed female for all federation of tribes. We had to insure females from others if we were to come through at all.
There were cleaning lady in our tribe who would scrutinise the cower female and decide who was fertile who was not. For the present moment however, it was the physical dimension such as the curve of the waist, the weight of the breasts ( verified by ripping off the burka ) and the vastness of the second joint, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the pack, I got the first pick. The I I picked were usually not Sir Thomas More than 20, though I didn't rape women younger than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the outflank hooey, the 1 whose backbreaking tits hung like ripe melon on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My choices had slenderize waists, preferably with recollective hair that covered their back. And I liked women who were a minuscule feisty.
One such plucky woman was Farhana. I've bury what her kin group was, we conducted so many maraud you see. But she was a real dish. Have you seen the female person slaves brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the White vividness of the dear of them, with milky breasts that defy gravity ? Do you notice the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to breed them ? have you noticed the looking of lubricious love in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a shade 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this time I was 21, about 6'4 and more mesomorphic than any in my crowd. My"female parent"said I was handsome. It didn't subject when we raided though. The maraud that caught Farhana was a particularly arid one, yielding just four fertile female and an old witch we tied to the back of the donkey pushcart carrying the women. Someone said it was Farhana's aunty, which may excuse her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more likable by her exquisite Oriental face and expectant eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the centre of her belittled hut, defending a shortly man of about forty. Once I'd dispatched of the Sir Noel Pierce Coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the center of the village. This appeared to be a particularly inadequate Village, lacking even a good stables. Since there were so few charwoman, we decided to simply befuddle them on the ground and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the ground, her burqa lifting to designate her thin white peg. Giving a monition glare to the others, I asked them to take their own women and get down to mold.
For my region I prevented her from getting up by placing a ft on her abdomen, gently pressing her down. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her script to scratch me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few kicks on her thin waist. Pointing my blade at her dresser, I forced her to look the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that point, was over. She continued to glare at me, but this clip I did not dim her. Instead I stared directly into her eye, boring into them, making my supremacy and power over her imperfect manikin letters patent.
She couldn't sustain up the intensity for long, looking away with a look that said she'd understood what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my foundation, I lowered myself beside her. Words were unacceptable as the riot of the remainder of the women drowned any words. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a woman with his sword handle, as the horrified adult female looked on, thinking he was about to spike 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 stone pit. She'd lain silently at my foundation, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't care, ripping off her instrument of modesty in a brutal relocation that casued some of her hair to displume off as well. I pocketed it as a souvenir. Farhana had beautiful fuzz, now mixing with the dust as it spread out in voluptuary folds around her head. Her lips were full and pink, the way l liked them.
Immobilizing her hands with mine, I lowered myself till her tit touched my chest, her aspect just inches away from my hungry sass. Pressing down further, I touched my lips with hers. They were like flabby petals, parting at my touch to allow me to give suck them, as a real lover would. Parting them further, I probed deeper with my natural language, loving the way her mouthpiece tasted. I sought out her tongue, finding the organ as it sought to avoid contact, but it could scarcely escape. Instead it was forced to wager with mine as I forced her to look at me. Those beautiful dark-brown centre were now filled with a plea, a womanhood's plea to be treated like a married woman. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the hope turn to ashes in those Brown syndicate. My lips parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my mitt on the cone my bureau had felt earlier. They were balmy and declamatory, like balmy grip waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused helping hand. Grabbing her slenderize burqa, I began to rip it off. The glare in her eyes returned, but it was immediately replaced by a weak supplication"Please not in populace. Not like this."I continued to charge away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her second joint. Pushing the soft black stuff away, I quickly disposed of her thin unmentionable, finally revealing her magnificent tits to my athirst gaze.
They stood up like small hills even as she lay 2-dimensional, making me question how much they'd have stood out had she not veil them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't control condition myself as I grabbed her turgid Brown University mammilla, each a Glycyrrhiza glabra nub an inch and a half foresighted, pulling them severely. Her voice joined the chorus of screeching around us, but I could still piddle out her musical scream."Please maestro, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palms on the nips, enjoying the smell of their hard top. Pressing down till my finger covered her full mounds, I began to pull the physique into my palm, till my fingerbreadth were buried in her chest, clamping her essence into my frailty like manus.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the sleek flesh against my gravelly manpower. The sight too was brilliant, her fair flesh exposed and abused by my with child palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the deep red patsy made on her knocker, one of which was leaking a trickle of bloodline. Smiling, I pressed down again, this meter squeezing with all my might, causing her eyes to let out to their utmost extent, her sass opening all-inclusive to discharge an verbal expression of everlasting torment. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an creative person to becharm that look for me.
But time was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could return at any consequence to wreak havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the stock from her pap on her torn burqa, before beginning to rip the remainder of that useless garment away. This required the release of her feet, and the moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed kick hit me on the nozzle. Stopping my assault on her wearing apparel, I moved higher, till my wild kisser was directly above her terrified one. Before she could mumble any self-justification, I'd landed to hard smack on her cheek, causing one to turn gamy. blood line erupted from her lips, which I sucked away before tearing the rest of her burka off.
Her half-slip was made of a fatheaded fabric that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her waist. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely stage to my gaze. Grabbing the reduce brown ankle joint, I forcibly pulled her stage apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a fruitless attempt to raise herself from the dusty ground, but one knockout poke on her monotone tummy ended such ambitions instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and bushy, making me marvel if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a plum pussy. Grabbing a handful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to jump on her ass in pain. Another thump came off, then another, till her skin was irritated and bally, while tears freely ran down the red and blue streaks on her face.
My putz was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my soused riding dress. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her escape from her capitulum in skepticism, for before he stood a man with a 10"manhood, and quite thick too. Her eyes followed my dick in disbelief as it made its way towards her tight pussy. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll rupture my dry porta. Please, at least lube it."She realized the import of her request too late. My tool traced a trail of pecum over her abdomen and tit as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her mouth. This metre I didn't even listen to her pitiful requests, the moment her mouth opened for an entreaty my dick went in. As her middle bulged along with her mistreat cheeks, I felt a cockeyed moist feeling engulf my dick. bore for Sir Thomas More, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the back of her head. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my tool as it pressed against her skull. In this position, it'd be hard to campaign it down her throat, that'd have to be for later, For now I began to saw the part that could go in, in and out of her sassing, making it gracious and wet for her chthonic sass.
I don't think she'd ever taken a dick in her mouth before, for she was soon gagging, trying to excite her question. This had the effect of causing my prick to slap against the interior of her cheeks, which had presumably been damaged by my severely smacking. She winced and gave up the try, breathing through her nose as I instructed her. I picked up tempo, fucking her stiff sass with greater vigour, but deliberate not to cum yet. I'm sure she'd have hoped at some power point that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to ravish her pussy. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist putz out of her abused lips, and aiming it at her twat. Her mouth was not yet up to of oral presentation, and I used this silence to think of she was prepared for her vaginal encroachment.
As with every violation I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any hint of tenderness. In one Dean 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 cock, before burying it fully into her cunt. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably fuddled. This was not surprise given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to wee the most out of this stroke of fortune. Still marvelling at the compactness of her yap, I grabbed the sides of her thighs, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with capital effect.
My lover howled in pain, shaking her principal and making tongue-tied effort with her tree branch as she tried in vain to escape from the searing excruciation that must ingest been pulsing through her consistency from her vagina. I now began to fuck her with majuscule force, pummeling her bay window and mamilla every time she tried to careen herself. A little speech sound told me I'd likely broken one of her ribs, but I didn't'care - she existed for my pleasance, and I was getting it. It was as if her trunk was designed to provide me pleasure directly in symmetry to her pain, for as she screwed up her eyes and screamed into the sky, her pussy muscle seemed to squeeze me harder and harder, till she sent me over the boundary. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this time I kissed her, forcing her abused lips to accept me again, this time with no hope of any warmheartedness.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a long time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the untried of my troupe, staring at me with heart that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a good lad, having saved my life in a old sally when a horseback rider almost had me from the back. He had been left to ward the entry to the Greenwich Village, and though this was customary for the new of the gang, he clearly rued the lose chance. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in shame and walked off. That's when I decided that Farhana had one hollow left still. I called out to Yaldir.
The lad turned around abruptly, his grimace clearly showing the punishment a person found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a captive in the outdoors ) could bear. Instead he heard his chief calling upon him to show his manfulness to the whore who'd birthed the foeman materialisation. For a moment he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to give thought her ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a potent immature man join her rapist, she began to fawn away, her eyes showing a desperation seen in a cervid who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his chief'whore, whether to grab and rape her or to await for me to take the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her articulatio genus, he grabbed her and knocked her down. I walked over casually, surveying his physique with appreciation. Nodding at him to remove his dress, I pulled the womanhood 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 start with her mouth as I began to prepare for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some kind of referee during this phase of her misdemeanour. These Bob Hope would take in been rudely tattered when I pressed my putz against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my fingers. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral orifice, her consistency gently rocking as he fucked her. For a moment I wished I'd used her sass in this position, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the other hand aimed directly at her puckered embrown muddle. The guck from her mouth and cunt and my peter still there to act as lube, I plunged my member into her last Virgin kettle of fish.
Farhana would have screamed had Yaldir not been taking her sass. In the event she gagged on his cock, causing him to pull out. This led to her completing her belly laugh, before I signalled him to push his hawkshaw back in. On my part, her backdoor, even slopped than her pussy, coupled with the melodic scream emanating from her mouth, caused my cock to harden inside her torso. This growth made her ass seem all the more than stringent, her anal brawniness likely tearing as they suffered the for the first time invasion of her short circuit life.
My pleasure, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our foreman spotter. He had just gotten news that I was needed in my Village. He too, however, couldn't check aloof from the sex scene unfolding before him. I handed him my sawhorse whip, instructing him to whip her across her back, but avoid our cocks or her hands and legs.
The initiatory snow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew upright than to deplumate out this sentence, instead enjoying the extra constriction of her throat. At the like time the pressure of her anal retentive brawniness on my cock was unbelievable. Timing my succeeding chance event for the adjacent blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating compounding of a cleaning woman's anal muscles squeezing one's cock desperately as the thick corded whip landed on her thin waist. I pulled out and ( Whack ! ) slammed in again. wham whack whack. Her white backside was developing red wale, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the crossroad. Whack on her shoulder blades, rap on her scummy back, then diagonically across her tooshie. Yaldir and I had developed a rhythm by now, fucking her like a foresighted perch with our pecker buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our organic structure and Mirwaiz's whip forming an orchestra of which the instrument was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached orgasm, forcing the others to keep in tune, forcing the whore between us to adjust till she could align no More. As a whiplash appeared proper across her lour spine to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him close his centre in ecstacy, holding Farhana's fountainhead to his groin as he came in her mouth. As he finished up, I realized I too could not hold for long. Taking a minuscule whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to stop. Instead I aimed the whiplash straight across her cover and brought it down upon all her early wounds with tremendous force. Her voice rang out across the Baroness Dudevant as her ass squeezed down on my cock like a velvet frailty. My self-control collapsed, the photoflood gates opening in her bastard as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal muscles to spasm, milking my rooster for all it was worth. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to fleet out on the solid ground.
You may ask what I did thereafter ? Well, Farhana was half dead by this time, so we hoisted her up over the border of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly reach consciousness as the metal tip ripped through her bowels, spewing blood down the light beam of the spear. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her gloomy bones, it got lodge among her rib, preventing her from dying a quick death. I left her there, staring at me with half glazed heart as her ass leaked cum and her pussy blood.
It was by now prison term to go back. Some of the early women who'd been used by the despoiler were similarly dispatched. The shaft of a spear broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. Medical knowledge being what it is, we left her like that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody ground. While we were fucking, three more adult female had been caught from a nearby barn. One of them was a very short thin lady friend, barely 18, with picayune of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddle well, and it fell upon her to lie flat on the horse's back her pussy accessible to my dick. The other fair sex were either tied and put in the donkey pushcart or, in compositor's case of one who'd bitten a raider, dragged behind the cart.
It was a pleasurable ride back, my dick sawing in and out of her fuddled porta as I rode on the horse. It was a especial chief's privilege ( not formally of course ) to spoil a cleaning woman on horseback, and as I pumped my lode into her defenceless pussy, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a existent head of my folk. Sadly, my portion was different.
The first of all signs of the ill wind were received in the very time of day I returned from this first-class raid. A few of our loot gymnastic horse had been stolen by another folk, and the pursuing political 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 attendant as they saw fit, I headed straight for the chiefs'hut, where worried and anxious faces met me.
"Rashid, do you make out what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the current headway of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were mussitation of botheration at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to mind. Instead he told the group about the sawbuck ( and charwoman ) I'd captured during the maraud. to the highest degree of them listened to the particular with unusual pastime, the reasonableness for which became clear only when I learnt that the raid by the regular leaders on a unlike tribe had been a signal nonstarter.

I'm not one to gloat over my victories, rather I'd prefer to head into another battle. This time however, the next battle came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich khan, an elder who had a hereditary dislike for my syndicate, stood up"My brethren, it becomes earn that the rash actions of this youthful man are the reason behind the failure of our maraud today. He took our best gymnastic horse, reduced our numbers, and forced the elderberry bush to round a lesser place."
I was stunned. The buck belonged to us, captured personally by me and my friends during the previous maraud. As for the men, it was an out-of-doors secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a vox choked with choler I pointed this out. His debate was even more ridiculous as the attack on a lesser area had failed. But the elderberry bush were by now looking at me with a mix of bitterness and anger, which I found difficult to deflect. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my detractors had a good funding in the council, I had none. The arguments were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no pauperism to describe the tribal logical argument in particular. You were thrown out shortly prior to the annihilation of your kin by the Yalitiz kindred. You went to Markaz, a city on the sea. But records tell us there were only three the great unwashed in the group that arrived. Where did the fourth go ?"
Rashid looked with a sour expression at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the story ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you mouth Rashid. Please continue."
"Fine. 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 hours. All our cattle were taken away in takings for the paltry sum of 5000 United Arab Emirate dirham. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse. To make thing unfit, as I was leaving, that asshole again spoke up
‘ And take your slut sister with you. We don't want her ruining our boys'manhood."
I took it as an offhand insult. Cursing the land of occasion, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the decision, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would feature succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be lawful.
My home base back then was at the edge of a small ridge, a fall from which would not kill you but split up your limbs. It was separated from the Greenwich Village proper by a small distance which housed the stables of the tribe. As I checked on my sawbuck to nominate sure it was in soundly health should I actually have to evacuate the side by side day, I was surprised to notice the strait of a girlfriend coming from behind them.
Wondering what on earthly concern was happening in my own tribal base, I peered round out the border of the unchanging, and was stunned to find my Old baby with a man. Worse, not only was she pure naked but he was in fact a appendage of one of our competition 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 cakehole.
Uptil that metre I'd known myself as a balanced person, one who could control himself and his anger. That was the first-class honours degree prison term I lost this self control condition, and all because of a stupid slut of a sister. Letting out a roar, I had my blade in my helping hand before either of them were aware of my presence. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her cunt as I swept the blade in an arc an inch from my babe's terrified fount, slicing her fan's neck opening into two His head, the expression of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the earth even as his body continued to pinch from the mix of ejaculation and death spasms.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to push him out. This she did in a daze, 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 ill luck we were discovered at that very moment. spoilt, it was the cousin of that old farting, Qaglich caravan inn.
The scrawny illegitimate child had been watching the legal proceeding even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a brief while from his hiding position 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 visual sense. I knew the elder would be hot upon the aroma the moment the kid went and told them.
To make matters defective, she had, in her foolhardy love, headed behind the stable leaving her clothes behind a shrub that was in the face portion a mil off. Cursing I headed there to think her wearing apparel, but saw a crew gathered there by the time I returned. The kid had cooked up as narration about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the enemy but preferred to confer with the elderberry bush before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my boldness now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very fiddling influence on the judgment of the prepossess minds of the elders. When that stupid breaking wind called Qaglich spoke of how the strong drink were infelicitous with me and my family, it was the end of any hopes I may accept hitherto entertained. spoiled, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the women of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral deed unbecoming of a great tribe.
You'd understand that the pain in the ass was nothing to me, hell, I'd felt practically bang-up pain in the neck in combat. It was the abasement that hurt me almost. That old fart's son wielded the lash, and fifty shot were what I got, swearing to avenge each one of them on the cause of my shame. There was talk of stoning the whore to demise, but I wanted to penalise her myself. So my Quaker were storm when I asked that she be left alone. The elder agreed on condition that we packed up and left before dawn the next day.
My back electrocution, I headed back with my gunny dismission covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The import we got family, she landed hard on the floor from a backhand smacking on her fairish cheek. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the women of the kinship group so worked up. I explained in as many words that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the separate sleeping way for the females that she began to sob. I was too fuddled to intend about the future immediately, rather I wanted to penalise the bawd. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like mortarboard, causing me to devote my time and aid to the task of packing matter. Not that there was much to take. We aren't a rich kinship group, and ever since my father was removed thing have gotten bad - he atleast screw how to trade.
As I tended to the sawbuck and donkeys, getting them ready, my mother and babe packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a corner crying, too stunned by the barbarous end of her lover to react. The packing was done by midnight, and we were fix to result by the metre the first rays of the sun were breaking through the rugged James Jerome Hill in the distance. It was cold, but I refused to let the culprit wear anything beyond the gunny bag she'd been given by one of the village girl upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the customary salutation given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few Harlan F. Stone behind our caravan ( my mother had persuaded the chief's wife to two camels instead of the donkey, we had originally owned four Equus caballus and four camels apart from the Equus asinus ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the immense sweep that covers two third of our country.
As the palisade wall grew smaller, I turned back to the three woman in the dorsum, and was annoyed to detect the senior of my footmark sisters clad in a burka. My stepmother sensed my choler, and sought to intermediate.
‘ Please she's a young young lady, give her a chance."
"Chance. 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 younger half-sister 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 following stop was a good 20 geographical mile away. I decided this was as soundly a fourth dimension as any to punish my working girl sister. Stopping my gymnastic horse, I asked the cleaning lady to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the new girl by her recollective hair and pulled her downhearted onto the hot sand, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old woman came next, pulled bodily down and confuse away. The slut, whose public figure was Sahiba, crawled away from my range cashbox I grabbed her tail and pulled her towards me.
She made one hold up effort to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the fount, knocking one-half her white dentition down her throat. profligate erupted from her mouth, as she fell to her knees, her work force folded as she begged me with wide optic. For the first, and last sentence in my life, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish face like her mother, she had wide-eyed brown eyes and hair that could fade of as chocolate-brown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the body. well enough for a rapine, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the hair, I yanked her up. Her hands flew to her abused mane, her mouth, resembling that of a 7 year old shaver now, making mumbling noises. I held her up before me, looking into the scared eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the whip, the exclusion and the gloating grimace of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My hand almost dropped her as the force of my smack on her cheek rocked her thin body. More blood erupted from her face, her heart now screwed up in pan from the mix of veneration and nuisance.
As the other two female looked on in terror, I threw her on the ground, landing three hard kick on the burka clad trope. She rolled into a fetal placement, her face wrinkled by an expression of acute hurting. You'd ask me how I could punish my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would stimulate punished a thousand of my babe like that, and worse, if they did anything of the sort. 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 workplace at home.
Hence I felt no mother fucker of that affair you call conscience as I watched the female writhe in agony on the hot Sand. In fact, I landed another operose on her ribs, causing a cracking sound. She looked at me with an locution of awe and repugnance, never having expected her own"buddy"to be so cruel. At that present moment however, I felt gnarled manus on my chest, and looked up to see"female parent"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not vote down 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 young lady, and both resumed their cry.
The girl had lain on the ground for some time now, and in spite of her pain, must have realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to grovel away, a spirit of pure desperation on her face. If she'd shown the Lapplander desperation while trying to baulk that man, she wouldn't have suffered this circumstances. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this dot I'd had no particular aim apart from punishing her to the fullest extent possible. 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 kinsperson. Unfortunately for her, as she made another attack to crawl away, the lower office of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty second joint to my regard. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see Sir Thomas More of her body.
Back in the village I would have abstained from any such natural action, as that may hold earned me an expulsion as well. Now however, there was no one for miles around, and she was not the rude vernal girl but a sobbing animal who would anyhow be punished. mightiness as well get this hard work a little more pleasurable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot ground as she saw me flex down. Did she expect me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? probable she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the stuff of the burka was comparatively fragile, causing it to tear in my hands, 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 sand helped again, for it burnt her uncover tegument, causing her to willingly allow me to pick her up. Infact, I soon had the girlfriend in my arm, having spared her the torturing of the hot Baroness Dudevant. Her terrorise eye, 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 stupid judgement of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood in those full pink petal for the first and last-place clock time. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the prospect of being brutally raped on the ground. 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 sand, then threw her hard on the dry land again.
Her scream wasn't as tuneful as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the grim desolation of the desert. I kicked the squirm figure of speech on the primer right in between her stage, eliciting another musical comedy howl from my"Sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to remain in the curled up locating she now assumed, the sand would not let her. Unwindng she made a desperate endeavor to escape. This only placed her in a impermanent doggie style, allowing me to press my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the ground. As her body met the dry land again, she screamed, this time begging me to drink down 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 principal. Soon, she would be roasting on the backbone if she lay there : I had to move fast. She was again in a fawn positioning, almost up on her infantry this time. I allowed her to get up, and run a few paces, before grabbing her. She struggled fiercely, perhaps thinking she'd have made it if I'd let her go. As we scuffled, I was surprised to get the younger sister turn up, pulling in vain at my strong weapon system as they held her trollop sis. As I finally began dragging her binding, I felt a burning pain in my wrist. The kick had bitten me !
TO make matters worse, the slut whore, whom I was restraining, used my surprisal to break spare and run even as her sister remained latched onto my bloody wrist. Smarting under the pain in my wrist, I broke free from the younger girl with a hard punch to her abdomen, before giving chase to my fleeing prisoner. She did not arrive at it far. For some rationality she'd decided that she could make off on my buck. As she learnt to her consternation, the horse was more patriotic to me than she had been, and refused to budge. Her clumsy pulling at its reins caused it to land a hard kick on one of her legs, causing her to crumple on the grit. I reached her and landed half a dozen hard kicks on every character of her eubstance, breaking her tooth, rib and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the strength to get up from the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin though it was turning her back from a brightly red to brown.
atrophy no more than metre, I kicked her ramification apart and freed my member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the prospect of fucking a saucy cunt. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her whore hole as she continued to wrestle in painfulness. Like Farhana she could not comport to attend into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this clip I didn't force her to. Instead I grabbed her fleshy mounds, smaller than Farhana's, but grownup than the middling cunt you find in those component. Mauling and pinching them hard, I looked at her cheek, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the sceptre of passing out from the pain in her loins and in her cover, forcing me to slap her a few times to ensure she felt every minute of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her pussy for some clock time. It was tight, ardent and had it not been the undefendable desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken dandy pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her appealingness, especially the occasional clinch on my shaft when her already roasting shape touched more scorching guts, or my hand played with the various component part of her slutty body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the circumstances a safe thing as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speed, my thrusts causing her to rock like a rag doll on the basis, her eyes rolling in her forefront from the acute pain in her soundbox. On role I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to exhort down upon it even as my jab caused her soft skin to rub against the rough metric grain. As I approached coming, she again appeared to be passing out, and this fourth dimension I had to grab her mammilla, pulling her up by their weight. Any ease this would have given her from the sand was more than made up by the agony in her knocker, for she howled out like a thrashed dog. Her pussy clenched tighter than ever on my cock, asking for her"brother's"seed. My prick obliged, exploding in her cunt with an intensity which caused the desert and the high temperature 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 waste any of our precious water on the whore, I instead pulled her onto the gymnastic horse like the cunt the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to succeed. They had picayune selection in the matter, complying with my bid like two thrashed donkeys. Satisfied that it was leaving nothing to the desolate apart from the shreds of Sahiba's burqa, I mounted my horse, which neighed in appreciativeness. Giving it a small treat for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to displace however, turned the strumpet ‘ sis'over, so that her fair mammilla were replaced by the maroon back. Spreading her ass cheeks, I aimed my tool at her rear entrance. She offered no dynamic resistance, still being passed out. Her asshole was surprisingly well-heeled to penetrate, making me inquire if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibilities, I pushed my curing hammer into her arse. Satisfied that it was indeed inside, I raised her hands and tied them behind my neck opening. This put her weight upon my cervix, but it was the only when root as she wasn't as short as that other cunt. It had the total attracter of causing an intense bother in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was make, I took control of the cavalry with one hand and my peg, having been trained to fire curtain call from horseback in this manner. The unfreeze hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a trot, resuming the journeying across the barren wastes at the mind of my"menage ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive criticism and suggestions, including how the plot should go along, are always welcome. inconsistency, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for reading .