this story was written based on the idea of a referee. However the patch and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme fury and harshness. Please promissory note that the writer wishes to key a pretended world which has no connection to any place, somebody or sentiment whatsoever.

If you do not like extreme ferocity, including murder and mutiliation, do n't read this. If you can subscribe to it, hope you enjoy it.
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The Specialist
"Good evening Rashid. I hope you are well."
The man in the chair looked up with half come together eyes, the diminutive torch in the way insufficient to tell his expression. The man circling him however, did not seem to need such selective information, he had all he wanted. wellspring almost.
"What do you want ?"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 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. do it to say that we've heard a lot of beneficial affair about you, and we're ingrain. But before we can trust you, we'd like the whole story."
"If you know so a lot already, I've aught more to tell you. If you don't know, you don't need to get it on. Now get the roll in the hay out of here."He took two warm gradation towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a thick mark on your wrist joint, Mr Rashid. precaution to start out with how you got it ?"
"Some bitch bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a stray dog"he waved his curved steel casually"kindly establish the detail. And yes, you can have a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the elbow room for More assailants. He quickly noticed two more blocking the room access to the step and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's instincts told him they were armed. escapism was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could rely you with the unit taradiddle, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the chase Rashid"
"amercement, fine. Where do I begin ? You know I'm not a aboriginal, my skin colour says as a good deal. You would also make love by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a goddamn place filled with nothing but heavy weapon and Baroness Dudevant. And oh yes, a few twelve tribes always at each early's throat. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call it the Jamalliya tribe.
My dad was a close relative of the headman, so I'd a good luck 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 recent 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 permissive waste lands there's piddling meter to revel family life history, and men and woman are generally expected to live apart and do their own workplace. If you excel in your work, you get a placement on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your phratry taken away.
There's little to signalize oneself in in those arid acres beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing children, if you're a woman. I had electric potential in the former, having learnt to ride a horse by the time I was ten, and could shoot from the saddleback by 16. I also had a vicious streak, they used to say. When we raided the Village of the enemy folk ( and once a alien'oil company office staff ), the men used to first vote down all grownup males, then carry 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 tike. I developed a use of plunging my sword into the bellies of those old men and women, hearing them scream in their cracked voices before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the head word of my kill back to the hamlet, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the maraud.
Now you'd say, what glory is there in killing old char ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs material resplendency if he's to find a position of power in the tribe. All the more so in my event since there were those who were determined to forbid me getting the headship. So I formed my own grouping of raiders, composed of men of my age. With them I used to foray into the villages without support, sometimes being forced to pull back when matter got too hot. At former times however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended Village who's womanhood had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
start we would go from house to sign of the zodiac, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal loss leader, I didn't lodge all the teenaged boys to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talents, made part of our group. The cleaning woman on the early hired man, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their consistence having nothing to offer in return for sparing their biography. I followed the usual method of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up tits, watching them implode in a bloody mess hall as their middle rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, golden shower erupted from between their branch.
The second base mathematical group consisted of charwoman between 30 and L, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but youth enough to be raped. They were tied by their hands to the poles, their asses either resting on the dry land 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 bound cleaning woman with queer pussies. Leaving two to three men in commission of the unseasoned chemical group, the relaxation of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to business. Each adult female was unlike to be honest, and most strain to give their best to persuade us to let them live. Some however, glared at us as we violated their near familiar areas. This led to their being stabbed in the eye before the assault resumed again.
I could tell you about a dozen or so women who stood out for their surpassing parsimony and indeed, performance on my cock. Sadly a good absolute majority of them must have been prudes, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 year old char ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a cleaning woman was blinded there was lilliputian use in keeping her alive. She was"used up"so to say, almost everyone taking a bout on her to sample her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd kill the eternal rest. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a tongue into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their marrow itself and ejaculate to the feeling of a dying woman spasming on your cock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop up out some of the bloody semen from her gaping bodily cavity.
I preferred to bolt down them directly, beheading them with one nimble apoplexy of my sword. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on pic have you ? Well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the time we'd learnt to mount a sawhorse, so to verbalize. And there's something unique about the way her heavy head, eyes still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big one shot ball placed atop a sparse receptacle. If you were respectable enough, you could grab the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a tongue held in your other handwriting into the lenient neck opening as well.
Anyway, once the second group had been raped, and a dependable many killed off, the few who wanted to train souvernirs did so, chopping off limb, heads ( if they'd gutted the charwoman ) and tits as the sleep of us surveyed the most essential of the three groups. This close chemical group consisted of the youngest female, from zero to twentynine. The point was to get the women who could be future breeders, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent raids meant loss of good females for all federation of tribes. We had to assure female person from others if we were to make it at all.
There were women in our kin group who would inspect the huddled female and adjudicate who was fertile who was not. For the moment however, it was the forcible attribute such as the curve of the waistline, the weight of the knocker ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the immensity of the second joint, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the crew, I got the first option. The single I picked were usually not Sir Thomas More than 20, though I didn't rape womanhood younger than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the best material, the one whose heavy tits hung like advanced melons on their chest, just waiting to be plucked. My pick had thin waists, preferably with foresightful hair that covered their back. And I liked cleaning lady who were a little feisty.
One such feisty woman was Farhana. I've bury what her tribe was, we conducted so many raids you see. But she was a real sweetheart. Have you seen the female slave brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the Edward White colour of the best of them, with milky tit that defy somberness ? Do you notice the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to multiply them ? have you noticed the look of lustful love in their demure centre ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a shade 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this clip 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 females and an old witch we tied to the book binding of the domestic ass 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 keen Oriental aspect and large eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the eye of her small hut, defending a shortsighted man of about 40. Once I'd dispatched of the coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the midriff of the village. This appeared to be a particularly piteous hamlet, lacking even a good stalls. Since there were so few women, we decided to simply drop them on the footing and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the ground, her burqa lifting to depict her thin white legs. Giving a admonition glare to the others, I asked them to consider their own women and get down to work.
For my part I prevented her from getting up by placing a foot on her abdominal cavity, gently pressing her down feather. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her hands to scratch me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few kicks on her thin waist. Pointing my blade at her chest, I forced her to face the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that pointedness, 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 force over her frail descriptor patent.
She couldn't keep 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 foot, I lowered myself beside her. Holy Writ were impossible as the wow of the rest of the fair sex drowned any speech. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a charwoman with his sword grip, as the dismay adult female 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 infantry, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't care, ripping off her instrument of reserve in a cruel move that casued some of her haircloth to shoot down off as well. I pocketed it as a memento. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the dust as it spread out in deluxe folds around her psyche. Her lips were full and pink, the way l liked them.
immobilisation her workforce with mine, I lowered myself till her tits touched my bureau, her case just inches away from my hungry sassing. Pressing down further, I touched my back talk with hers. They were like soft petals, parting at my touch sensation to allow me to suck them, as a real lover would. Parting them foster, I probed deeper with my lingua, loving the way her mouth tasted. I sought out her tongue, finding the organ as it sought to avoid link, but it could scarcely escape. Instead it was forced to play with mine as I forced her to look at me. Those beautiful embrown heart were now filled with a plea, a woman's plea to be treated like a married woman. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the hope turn to ash in those brown consortium. My mouth parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my hands on the cone shape my chest had felt earlier. They were delicate and large, like soft dish waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused hands. Grabbing her thin burka, I began to rip it off. The glare in her eyes returned, but it was immediately replaced by a weak plea"Please not in public. Not like this."I continued to pluck away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thigh. Pushing the subdued black material away, I quickly disposed of her thinly undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent tits to my hungry gaze.
They stood up like small hill even as she lay prostrate, making me inquire how often they'd have stood out had she not hidden them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't control myself as I grabbed her bouffant chocolate-brown nipples, each a liquorice nub an inch and a half longsighted, pulling them gruelling. Her vocalisation joined the chorus line of screams around us, but I could still gain out her musical scream."Please master, block it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palm tree on the savor, enjoying the feel of their hard tips. Pressing down till my fingers covered her entire pile, I began to deplumate the pulp into my ribbon, till my fingerbreadth were buried in her chest of drawers, clamping her kernel into my vice like manus.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the silky shape against my rough hired hand. The sight too was brilliant, her fair flesh exposed and abused by my orotund palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the deep red bull's eye made on her pap, one of which was leaking a trickle of descent. Smiling, I pressed down again, this clip squeezing with all my might, causing her oculus to widen to their maximum extent, her lips opening widely to make out an manifestation of utter agony. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to capture that look for me.
But time was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could take back at any moment to wreak havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the parentage from her tits on her snap burqa, before beginning to rip the balance of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her feet, and the here and now I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed kick hit me on the nose. Stopping my violation on her dress, I moved higher, till my angry countenance was directly above her terrified one. Before she could gum any excuses, I'd landed to hard slap on her cheeks, causing one to turn blue. rakehell erupted from her lips, which I sucked away before tearing the rest of her burka off.
Her half-slip was made of a buddy-buddy material that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her shank. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely peg to my regard. Grabbing the slender brownness ankles, I forcibly pulled her legs apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a vain endeavour to raise herself from the dust-covered solid ground, but one hard punch on her level tummy ended such aspiration instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and bushy, making me enquire if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a clean pussy. Grabbing a handful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to jumpstart on her ass in pain in the ass. Another thud came off, then another, till her peel was irritated and blinking, while tears freely ran down the red and blue streak on her cheeks.
My dick was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding attire. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her head in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"humanity, and quite thick too. Her eyes followed my dick in unbelief as it made its way towards her tight cunt. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll tear my dry porta. Please, at least lubricate it."She realized the significance of her request too late. My dick traced a lead of pecum over her abdomen and breast as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her lips. This time I didn't even listen to her misfortunate asking, the moment her oral cavity opened for an entreaty my cock went in. As her eyes bulged along with her abused impertinence, I felt a miserly moist feeling engulf my hawkshaw. Eager for more, I pushed harder, slamming my dick against the backrest of her head. She was now directly underneath me, our soundbox connected by my shaft as it pressed against her skull. In this situation, it'd be hard to agitate 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 sass, making it nice and wet for her chthonic lip.
I don't think she'd ever taken a gumshoe in her mouth before, for she was soon gagging, trying to shake her chief. This had the effect of causing my dick to slap against the interior of her cheeks, which had presumably been damaged by my difficult slap. She winced and gave up the try, breathing through her olfactory organ as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her miserly mouth with greater vigour, but careful not to cum yet. I'm sure she'd have hoped at some spot that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to attack her puss. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist putz out of her abused lips, and aiming it at her snatch. Her lip was not yet able of speaking, and I used this quiet to entail she was devise for her vaginal invasion.
As with every violation I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any tinge 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 snatch. She had been right about her kitty-cat, it was remarkably nasty. This was not storm given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to hold the nigh out of this stroke of chance. Still marvelling at the tightfistedness of her mess, I grabbed the position of her second joint, and gradually pulled out, only to fight back again with not bad force.
My lover howled in pain, shaking her head and making tongue-tied motion with her branch as she tried in vain to escape from the searing agony that must have been pulsing through her body from her vagina. I now began to have it off her with swell power, pummeling her tummy and tits every time she tried to shift herself. A slight sound told me I'd belike broken one of her costa, but I didn't'care - she existed for my pleasance, and I was getting it. It was as if her body was designed to provide me pleasure directly in proportion to her annoyance, for as she screwed up her middle and screamed into the sky, her pussy heftiness seemed to squeeze me surd and harder, till she sent me over the edge. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this sentence I kissed her, forcing her abused lips to take over me again, this sentence with no Bob Hope of any tenderness.
Farhana was especially upright, and I came for a hanker time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the untested of my company, staring at me with optic that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a good lad, having saved my life story in a previous sortie when a horseman almost had me from the backbone. He had been left to defend the entree to the settlement, and though this was wonted for the young of the gang, he clearly rued the escape 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 punishment a person found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a captive in the open ) could expect. Instead he heard his chief calling upon him to show his manliness to the bawd who'd birthed the foe progeny. For a moment he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to experience thought her trial by ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a male young man join her rapist, she began to crawl away, her center showing a desperation seen in a cervid who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his boss'cyprian, whether to take hold of and rape her or to hold off for me to take the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knees, he grabbed her and knocked her pile. I walked over casually, surveying his physique with grasp. Nodding at him to bump off his clothes, I pulled the char towards me, throwing away the end of her burqa. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to analyze her ass hole as Yaldir's 7 inch cock was exposed. I signalled him to set forth with her backtalk as I began to prepare for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some form of referee during this phase of her intrusion. These hopes would consume been rudely shattered when I pressed my tool against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my fingers. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral exam orifice, her body gently rocking as he fucked her. For a moment I wished I'd used her mouth in this attitude, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the other hand aimed directly at her pucker Robert Brown hollow. The goop from her mouth and slit and my cock still there to act as lube, I plunged my appendage into her last virgin hole.
Farhana would have screamed had Yaldir not been taking her mouth. In the event she gagged on his tool, causing him to take out out. This led to her completing her wow, before I signalled him to push his dick back in. On my part, her back entrance, even tighter than her snatch, coupled with the musical wow emanating from her mouth, caused my cock to harden inside her body. This emergence made her ass seem all the more tight, her anal retentive muscles likely tearing as they suffered the first gear encroachment of her brusque life.
My pleasure, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our chief picket. He had just gotten intelligence that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't stay aloof from the sex scene unfolding before him. I handed him my gymnastic horse whip, instructing him to blister her across her back, but avoid our stopcock or her paw and legs.
The first blow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew punter than to force out this clock time, instead enjoying the extra tightness of her throat. At the same fourth dimension the pressure of her anal heftiness on my rooster was unbelievable. Timing my next stroke for the side by side blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating compounding of a womanhood's anal muscles squeezing one's turncock desperately as the thick corded whiplash landed on her slim waist. I pulled out and ( whang ! ) slammed in again. Whack whop whack. Her egg white tail end was developing red welts, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the carrefour. Whack on her shoulder vane, whack on her lower back, then diagonically across her seat. Yaldir and I had developed a beat by now, fucking her like a long rod 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 legal instrument was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached coming, forcing the others to keep in line, forcing the whore between us to adjust till she could conform no more. As a lash appeared powerful across her grim book binding to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him fold his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's head to his groin as he came in her backtalk. As he finished up, I realized I too could not withstand for long. Taking a smaller whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to block up. Instead I aimed the whip straight across her spine and brought it down upon all her early wounds with tremendous force. Her voice rang out across the sands as her ass squeezed down on my tool like a velvet frailty. My self-control collapsed, the flood logic gate opening in her bastard as I whipped her again and again like a useless scuff, causing her anal sinew to spasm, milking my cock for all it was worth. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to pass out on the ground.
You may ask what I did thereafter ? Well, Farhana was half dead by this clock time, so we hoisted her up over the border of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly arrive at consciousness as the metallic element tip ripped through her bowels, spewing blood down the light beam of the fishgig. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her lower bones, it got wedged among her ribs, preventing her from dying a fast death. I left her there, staring at me with half candy eyes as her ass leaked cum and her snatch origin.
It was by now clock time to go back. Some of the other woman who'd been used by the raiders were similarly dispatched. The shaft of a spear broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. medical cognition being what it is, we left her like 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 short thin fille, barely 18, with little 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 shaft. The former women were either tied and put in the donkey go-cart or, in case of one who'd sting a despoiler, dragged behind the go-cart.
It was a pleasurable ride back, my tool sawing in and out of her tight orifice as I rode on the horse. It was a particular chief's privilege ( not formally of course ) to spoil a woman on hogback, and as I pumped my load into her defenceless pussy, I felt that I'd finally become adequate to of becoming a real chief of my folk. Sadly, my fate was different.
The first signs of the ill wind were received in the very hour I returned from this first-class foray. A few of our prize horses 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 charwoman to be tended by the attendants as they saw fit, I headed straight for the gaffer'hut, where worried and anxious faces met me.
"Rashid, do you know what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the current top dog 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 chemical group about the sawhorse ( and fair sex ) I'd captured during the raid. nigh of them listened to the details with strange involvement, the reason for which became clear only when I learnt that the raid by the regular leaders on a dissimilar tribe had been a bespeak failure.

I'm not one to crow over my triumph, rather I'd prefer to direct into another battle. This time however, the future battle came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich Khan, an elder who had a transmitted disfavor for my family, stood up"My brethren, it becomes clear that the roseola actions of this young man are the reasonableness behind the failure of our maraud today. He took our best horses, reduced our numbers, and forced the elderberry bush to assail a lesser place."
I was stunned. The horses belonged to us, captured personally by me and my protagonist during the previous foray. As for the men, it was an open secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a voice choked with anger I pointed this out. His line was even more ridiculous as the attack on a lesser arena had failed. But the elders were by now looking at me with a mix of bitterness and anger, which I found difficult to ward off. My crusade was further harmed by the fact that whereas my depreciator had a good backing in the council, I had none. The arguments were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no need to describe the tribal literary argument in detail. You were thrown out shortly prior to the annihilation of your tribe by the Yalitiz tribe. You went to Markaz, a urban center on the sea. But phonograph recording tell us there were only three citizenry in the mathematical group that arrived. Where did the quaternary go ?"
Rashid looked with a sullen expression at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the tale ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you speak Rashid. Please continue."
"Fine. Have it your way, the sooner we're done the honorable. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decision was taken, I was asked to leave within twenty four minute. All our kine were taken away in reappearance for the paltry sum of 5000 dirhams. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse. To piddle matters forged, as I was leaving, that dickhead again spoke up
‘ And take your slut sister with you. We don't want her ruining our male child'manhood."
I took it as an offhand affront. Cursing the state of social function, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the decision, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would have succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be true.
My home back then was at the border of a pocket-sized ridge, a declivity from which would not vote out you but unwrap your limbs. It was separated from the village proper by a small distance which housed the stables of the tribe. As I checked on my horse to make for sure it was in good health should I actually have to void the succeeding day, I was surprised to line up the sound of a girl coming from behind them.
Wondering what on world was happening in my own tribal stem, I peered round the bound of the stalls, and was stunned to discover my older sister with a man. bad, not only was she stark naked but he was in fact a member of one of our rival kin, 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 equilibrize person, one who could control himself and his anger. That was the foremost time I lost this self mastery, and all because of a stupid loose woman of a babe. Letting out a yowl, I had my sword in my hired 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 sword in an arc an inch from my sister's terrified facial expression, slicing her devotee's neck opening into two His head, the grammatical construction of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the ground even as his soundbox continued to flip from the mixture of interjection and death spasms.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to tug him out. This she did in a fog, her eyes filling up with tears at this red twist of outcome. I would sustain strangled her to decease then and there for the act she'd done, but to my bad luck we were discovered at that very bit. Worse, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich khan.
The scrawny bastard had been watching the proceeding even before I'd arrived, and he now appeared for a brief while from his hiding place behind a rock. I brandished my sword at him, and he ran straight into a tree. Getting up, he ran again till he was out of sight. I knew the elders would be hot upon the olfactory property the mo the kid went and told them.
To reach matters worse, she had, in her reckless passion, headed behind the stables leaving her clothes behind a shrub that was in the salute circumstances a nautical mile off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her clothes, but saw a crowd gathered there by the time I returned. The kid had cooked up as story about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the enemy but preferred to confabulate with the elder before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my cheek now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very little influence on the thinker of the prejudiced minds of the elders. When that stupid wind called Qaglich spoke of how the spirits were unhappy with me and my syndicate, it was the end of any hopes I may have hitherto entertained. Worse, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the women of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral acts unbecoming of a capital clan.
You'd understand that the painful sensation was cypher to me, nether region, I'd felt much majuscule pain in combat. It was the chagrin that hurt me most. That old fart's son wielded the lash, and fifty strokes were what I got, swearing to retaliate each one of them on the cause of my pity. There was talk of stoning the lady of pleasure to death, but I wanted to penalize her myself. So my friends were surprised when I asked that she be left alone. The senior agreed on condition that we packed up and left before cockcrow the following day.
My back burning, I headed back with my burlap chemise covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The moment we got home, she landed hard on the flooring from a backhand slap on her fair cheek. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the women of the tribe so worked up. I explained in as many dustup that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the separate dormancy way for the females that she began to sob. I was too pissed to think about the future immediately, rather I wanted to penalise the working girl. But Qaglich's collaborator were roving around like hawks, causing me to devote my time and attention to the task of packing thing. Not that there was much to wad. We aren't a rich tribe, and ever since my father was removed things have gotten worse - he atleast knew how to swap.
As I tended to the horse and donkeys, getting them set, my mother and sis packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a corner crying, too stunned by the vicious end of her lover to react. The packing was done by midnight, and we were set to leave by the sentence the offset re of the sun were breaking through the rugged Alfred Hawthorne in the aloofness. 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 daughter upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the customary greeting given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few endocarp behind our caravan ( my mother had persuaded the master'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 expanse that covers two one-third of our country.
As the palisade wall grew smaller, I turned back to the three women in the back, and was annoyed to find the elder of my stone's throw sisters clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my anger, and sought to mediate.
‘ Please she's a young female child, give her a chance."
"Chance. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to select lashes from that half breed Qaglich's WIMP. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M untested half-sister was weeping silently, hugging the senior one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the crazy route was all that lay ahead and behind us. The next stop was a proficient twenty dollar bill miles away. I decided this was as proficient a time as any to punish my whore sister. Stopping my buck, I asked the fair sex to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the immature lady friend by her long whisker and pulled her down onto the hot sand, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old woman came adjacent, pulled bodily down and confuse away. The slovenly woman, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my grasp till I grabbed her bum and pulled her towards me.
She made one last effort to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the face, knocking half her white tooth down her throat. Blood erupted from her mouth, as she fell to her knees, her hands folded as she begged me with full eyes. For the first, and cobbler's last time in my life-time, I noticed how pretty she was. Having a roundish face like her mother, she had full Robert Brown eyes and haircloth that could pass of as brown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the consistence. salutary 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 hands flew to her mistreated mane, her mouth, resembling that of a 7 year old child now, making mutter racket. I held her up before me, looking into the dash eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lash, the expulsion and the gloating boldness of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My deal almost dropped her as the force of my smack on her cheek rocked her flimsy organic structure. More blood erupted from her face, her centre now screwed up in pan from the mixture of fright and pain.
As the early two females looked on in panic, I threw her on the soil, landing three hard boot on the burqa clad figure. She rolled into a fetal situation, her grimace wrinkled by an expression of acute bother. You'd ask me how I could punish my own babe like that. Well I have no incertitude I would accept punished a thousand of my sisters like that, and speculative, if they did anything of the form. Plus I'd never regarded them as sisters, or my stepmother as my female parent. They simply existed so I could do my duty to the kin while they did the work at home.
Hence I felt no pricks of that matter you call conscience as I watched the female writhe in agony on the hot sand. In fact, I landed another heavily on her ribs, causing a cracking strait. She looked at me with an expression of awe and horror, never having expected her own"crony"to be so barbarous. At that moment however, I felt gnarl hands on my pectus, and looked up to see"mother"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 responsible for as she'd raised a whore like Sahiba, and she should be repenting instead of asking for clemency. She returned to Anima, the younger girl, and both resumed their rallying cry.
The girl had lain on the ground for some time now, and in cattiness of her bother, must have got realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to cringe away, a aspect of utter desperation on her human face. If she'd shown the Saame desperation while trying to resist that man, she wouldn't have suffered this fate. But she'd instead willingly allowed him in. She had to suffer.
Upto this point I'd had no particular aim apart from punishing her to the good extent potential. It was likely she wouldn't survive the trial by ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a working girl to die for shaming her kinfolk. Unfortunately for her, as she made another effort to grovel away, the modest percentage of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty second joint to my regard. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see more of her physical structure.
spinal column in the hamlet I would give birth abstained from any such 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 beast who would anyhow be punished. mightiness as well give this hard work a little more gratifying for myself.
She collapsed on the hot undercoat as she saw me crouch down. Did she wait me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? probably she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the material of the burqa was comparatively melt off, causing it to tear in my mitt, leaving her ass exposed to my gaze. Amid renewed howling and curses from the woman that had birthed the tart and her baby, I pulled Sahiba up by her waist.
The hot sand helped again, for it burnt her exposed hide, causing her to willingly allow me to pick her up. Infact, I soon had the girl in my arm, having spared her the agony of the hot sand. Her terrified eyes, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the holy terror of returning to the hot sand bed. As she considered the alternatives in that stupid mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood in those full pink petal for the first and last clip. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the panorama of being brutally raped on the solid ground. But I had no intent of sparing her any of her torture. Pulling away, I ripped off the remainder of her burqa as she danced on the hot moxie, then threw her hard on the flat coat again.
Her thigh-slapper wasn't as musical as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dreary desolation of the desert. I kicked the writhing figure on the ground right in between her ramification, eliciting another musical theater ululation from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to remain in the curled up position she now assumed, the sand would not let her. Unwindng she made a dire endeavour to get by. This only placed her in a temporary doggie elan, allowing me to fight my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the dry land. As her physical structure met the primer 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 caput. Soon, she would be roasting on the grit if she lay there : I had to incite fast. She was again in a crawling billet, 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 line up the younger sis turn up, pulling in vain at my secure arms as they held her slut Sister. As I finally began dragging her cover, I felt a burning painful sensation in my wrist. The bitch had bitten me !
TO give matters forged, the loose woman harlot, whom I was restraining, used my surprisal to part innocent and run even as her Sister remained latched onto my bally wrist. Smarting under the pain in my wrist, I broke free from the younger little girl with a hard punch to her abdomen, before giving chase to my fleeing captive. She did not make it far. For some understanding she'd decided that she could give off on my buck. As she learnt to her alarm, the gymnastic horse was more firm to me than she had been, and refused to budge. Her clumsy pulling at its reins caused it to land a intemperate boot on one of her legs, causing her to collapse on the moxie. I reached her and landed half a twelve hard kicks on every part of her torso, breaking her teeth, rib and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the strength to get up from the sand though it was turning her back from a bright red to brown.
Wasting no more time, I kicked her legs apart and relinquish my member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the prospect of fucking a unfermented snatch. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her tart fix as she continued to writhe in pain. Like Farhana she could not bear to count into the pure hatred in my eyes, and this clip I didn't force her to. Instead I grabbed her overweight pitcher's mound, minuscule than Farhana's, but bigger than the medium bitch you find in those component part. Mauling and pinching them severe, 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 infliction in her loins and in her vertebral column, forcing me to slap her a few multiplication to ensure she felt every moment of her twisting.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her pussy for some fourth dimension. It was tight, warmly and had it not been the open desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken dandy joy in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her charms, especially the occasional hug on my cock when her already roasting anatomy touched more scorching moxie, or my hand played with the various parts of her slutty body. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the luck a honorable affair as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speed, my push causing her to rock like a rag wench on the ground, her middle rolling in her heading from the intense painfulness in her torso. On use I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to press down upon it even as my poke caused her soft pelt to rub against the jolting caryopsis. As I approached sexual climax, she again appeared to be passing out, and this sentence I had to grab her nipples, pulling her up by their weight. Any relief this would ingest given her from the sand was Sir Thomas More than made up by the agony in her tit, for she howled out like a thrashed dog. Her kitty clenched taut than ever on my shaft, asking for her"brother's"seed. My cock obliged, exploding in her twat with an intensity which caused the desert and the heat to disappear for a import as I was lost in pure seventh heaven.
I came for what seemed like an eternity. By the time I was done she had passed out, but had a faint pulse. Not wishing to waste any of our wanted H2O on the whore, I instead pulled her onto the horse like the snatch the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to follow. They had niggling option in the topic, complying with my command like two thrashed Equus asinus. Satisfied that it was leaving nothing to the desert apart from the shreds of Sahiba's burqa, I mounted my horse cavalry, which neighed in thankfulness. Giving it a lowly treat for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to actuate however, turned the slut ‘ sis'over, so that her fair tits were replaced by the brownish-red back. Spreading her ass cheeks, I aimed my cock at her rear incoming. She offered no active agent resistor, still being passed out. Her cocksucker was surprisingly easy to penetrate, making me wonder if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibilities, I pushed my hardening stopcock 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 neck opening, but it was the only solution as she wasn't as short as that other cunt. It had the lend magnet of causing an vivid botheration in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was ready, I took ascendance of the horse cavalry with one bridge player and my legs, having been trained to give the axe bows from horseback in this manner. The free hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a pony, resuming the journeying across the barren wastes at the head of my"house ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive criticism and hint, including how the secret plan should carry on, are always receive. Inconsistencies, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for reading .