this story was written based on the theme of a reader. However the game and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme violence and cruelty. Please notation that the source wishes to identify a fictitious man which has no connection to any topographic point, person or sentiment whatsoever.

If you do not like utmost violence, including murder and mutiliation, do n't read this. If you can take 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 close center, the tiny torch in the room insufficient to tell his expression. The man circling him however, did not appear to need such data, he had all he wanted. fountainhead almost.
"What do you require ?"asked the man in the chairman, getting up menacingly."How did you get in here ?"
"Wouldn't it be wiser to ask who we are ? Or do you already make out ?"the well-dressed man who'd been circling the early, now stopped and asked.
"Yes I know who you are. But what do you want ?"
"Depends on whether we're satisfied with you. Suffice it to say that we've heard a lot of goodness things about you, and we're impress. But before we can trust you, we'd like the unhurt story."
"If you know so often already, I've nil more to narrate you. If you don't know, you don't need to know. Now get the shag out of here."He took two speedy tone towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a mystifying Saint Mark on your wrist, Mr Rashid. charge to commence with how you got it ?"
"Some gripe bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a stray dog"he waved his curved blade casually"kindly give the details. And yes, you can have a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the room for Thomas More aggressor. He quickly noticed two more than blocking the doorway to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low lightness, Rashid's inherent aptitude told him they were armed. Escape was impossible. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could trust you with the whole story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the chase Rashid"
"fine, fine. Where do I set about ? You know I'm not a native, my scramble colour says as often. You would also sleep together by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a damned place filled with zero but guns and sand. And oh yes, a few 12 kindred always at each other's throats. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's shout it the Jamalliya clan.
My dad was a nigh relative of the headsman, so I'd a good chance of becoming one when I came of age. Unfortunately, the early families feared just that, and they removed him soon after I was born. My 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 kin consisted of two girl and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the girls grew curve and I developed brawn. But in these waste material lands there's petty time to enjoy family life, and men and womanhood are generally expected to live apart and do their own employment. If you excel in your work, you get a position on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your family taken away.
There's little to distinguish oneself in in those arid lands beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing kid, if you're a charwoman. I had potential in the former, having learnt to tease a knight by the metre I was ten, and could shoot from the saddle by 16. I also had a vicious streak, they used to say. When we raided the villages of the enemy tribe ( and once a noncitizen'oil company part ), the men used to first pop all adult males, then call for 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 cleaning woman and the children. I developed a habit of plunging my sword into the abdomen of those old men and women, hearing them shrieking in their cracked interpreter before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the headway of my putting to death back to the Village, where they'd be placed beside those of the men and women killed during the raid.
Now you'd say, what glory is there in killing old women ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs real glory if he's to happen a berth of tycoon in the kindred. All the more so in my subject since there were those who were determined to prevent me getting the headship. So I formed my own mathematical group of freebooter, composed of men of my age. With them I used to raid the Greenwich Village without support, sometimes being forced to adjourn when affair got too hot. At other prison term however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended village who's adult female had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
First we would go from sign to house, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leaders, I didn't order all the teenaged boys to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talent, made part of our group. The women on the other script, were grouped by age. The oldest died first, their bodies having zip to offer in homecoming for sparing their lives. I followed the usual methods of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up boob, watching them implode in a bloody mess as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, halcyon showers erupted from between their legs.
The second group consisted of womanhood 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 terminal, their asses either resting on the footing or raised in the air. Their legs were then stretched till they touched those of the succeeding woman ; these were then tied, forming a long line of saltation women with exposed pussies. Leaving two to three men in armorial bearing of the youthful chemical group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to line. Each cleaning lady was different to be honest, and virtually try on to turn over their best to persuade us to let them subsist. Some however, glared at us as we violated their virtually intimate areas. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the assault resumed again.
I could tell you about a dozen or so charwoman who stood out for their exceptional tightness and indeed, operation on my shaft. Sadly a expert bulk of them must have got been prudes, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 year old womanhood ( more about her later ), they all were blinded and eventually killed. Indeed if a woman 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 sample her before her end. Once we'd decided who would be spared, we'd belt down the rest. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a knife into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their marrow itself and ejaculate to the feeling of a dying cleaning woman spasming on your cock. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to scoop out some of the bloody semen from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to wipe out them directly, beheading them with one quick stroking of my blade. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on film have you ? Well it's something we'd learnt to do right from the time we'd learnt to turn on a horse, so to speak. And there's something unique about the way her heavy head, eyes still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big round testicle placed atop a thinly receptacle. If you were good enough, you could snap up the straits as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other manus into the diffused cervix as well.
Anyway, once the back chemical group had been raped, and a in force many killed off, the few who wanted to take souvernirs did so, chopping off limbs, header ( if they'd gutted the fair sex ) and tits as the ease of us surveyed the most crucial of the three chemical group. This final stage radical consisted of the youngest female, from zero to twentynine. The peak was to get the women who could be future breeders, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent maraud stand for loss of good female for all tribes. We had to secure female person from others if we were to survive at all.
There were women in our tribe who would scrutinise the huddled females and decide who was fertile who was not. For the moment however, it was the physical attributes such as the curve of the shank, the weight of the breasts ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the broadness of the thigh, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the gang, I got the first pickaxe. The I I picked were usually not more than 20, though I didn't rape char younger than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the best poppycock, the single whose heavy nipple hung like ripe melon on their chests, just waiting to be plucked. My choices had slim waistline, preferably with longsighted hair that covered their back. And I liked cleaning woman who were a little feisty.
One such touchy woman was Farhana. I've forgotten what her kinship group was, we conducted so many maraud you see. But she was a real smasher. Have you seen the female slaves brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the Patrick White colour of the best of them, with milky breast that defy gravitation ? Do you observe the way they stand, their pelvic arch thrust out waiting for a man to multiply them ? have you noticed the facial expression of lustful lovemaking in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a nuance 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this metre I was 21, about 6'4 and more than hefty than any in my gang. My"mother"said I was handsome. It didn't affair when we raided though. The maraud that caught Farhana was a particularly arid one, yielding just four fertile females and an old witch we tied to the back of the domestic ass cart carrying the adult female. somebody said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more invoke by her exquisite Oriental face and great eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the middle of her small hut, defending a short man of about 40. Once I'd dispatched of the coward, I personally grabbed her and dragged her to the middle of the village. This appeared to be a particularly poor village, lacking even a practiced stables. Since there were so few cleaning woman, we decided to simply throw them on the ground and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the ground, her burqa lifting to show her thin white peg. Giving a word of advice glare to the others, I asked them to need their own womanhood and get down to bring.
For my part I prevented her from getting up by placing a invertebrate foot on her abdomen, gently pressing her down. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her hands to expunge me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few kick on her thin shank. Pointing my blade at her chest, I forced her to face the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that point in time, was over. She continued to glare at me, but this time I did not dim her. Instead I stared directly into her eyes, boring into them, making my supremacy and big businessman over her frail form patent.
She couldn't keep up the chroma for long, looking away with a spirit that said she'd sympathize what would happen to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my foot, I lowered myself beside her. Words were impossible as the shriek of the rest of the woman drowned any speech. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a char with his brand handle, as the horrified womanhood 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 quarry. She'd lain silently at my feet, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't guardianship, ripping off her instrument of modesty in a barbarous move that casued some of her fuzz to snap off as well. I pocketed it as a keepsake. Farhana had beautiful tomentum, now mixing with the junk as it spread out in luxurious congregation around her point. Her lips were full moon and pink, the way l liked them.
immobilisation her handwriting with mine, I lowered myself till her teat touched my chest, her brass just inches away from my athirst lip. Pressing down further, I touched my sass with hers. They were like easygoing flower petal, parting at my touch to allow me to suck up them, as a real lover would. Parting them further, I probed deeper with my knife, loving the way her mouth tasted. I sought out her tongue, finding the organ as it sought to annul contact, but it could scarcely get by. Instead it was forced to represent with mine as I forced her to look at me. Those beautiful brown heart were now filled with a supplication, a adult female's plea to be treated like a wife. I chuckled at her naiveness, seeing the Leslie Townes Hope turn to ashes in those Robert Brown syndicate. My mouth parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my workforce on the cone my chest had felt earlier. They were piano and big, like soft bags waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused hands. Grabbing her thin burqa, I began to rip it off. The public eye in her eyes returned, but it was immediately replaced by a weak supplication"Please not in public. Not like this."I continued to tear away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her thighs. Pushing the soft black cloth away, I quickly disposed of her cut undergarment, finally revealing her magnificent teat to my hungry gaze.
They stood up like minor hills even as she lay flat, making me wonder how much they'd have stood out had she not hide them under her burqa when I dragged her out. I couldn't control myself as I grabbed her puffy brown nipples, each a liquorice nub an column inch and a half foresightful, pulling them hard. Her voice joined the Greek chorus of thigh-slapper around us, but I could still make out her musical scream."Please master copy, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palms on the nips, enjoying the feel of their hard backsheesh. Pressing down till my digit covered her total mounds, I began to pull the flesh into my thenar, till my finger were buried in her bureau, clamping her meat into my vice like helping hand.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the silky bod against my rough script. The pot too was magnificent, her fair flesh exposed and abused by my with child palms as she began to cry silently. Releasing her tits, I marvelled at the deep red brand made on her mammilla, one of which was leaking a trickle of profligate. Smiling, I pressed down again, this time squeezing with all my might, causing her eyes to broaden to their maximum extent, her sassing opening astray to complete an expression of utter torment. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an creative person to charm that look for me.
But time was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could turn back at any moment to wreak mayhem on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the rakehell from her mamilla on her mangled burka, before beginning to rip the remainder of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her human foot, and the moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed kick hit me on the nose. Stopping my assault on her clothes, I moved higher, till my wild visage was directly above her panic-struck one. Before she could mumble any excuses, I'd landed to hard slaps on her buttock, causing one to turn spicy. Blood erupted from her lips, which I sucked away before tearing the rest of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a thick material that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her shank. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely peg to my regard. Grabbing the thin Robert Brown ankles, I forcibly pulled her legs apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a vain attempt to raise herself from the dusty soil, but one strong slug on her matted tummy ended such aspiration instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and shaggy, making me wonder if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a clean pussy. Grabbing a fistful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to jump on her ass in painful sensation. Another clump came off, then another, till her hide was irritated and blinking, while binge freely ran down the red and blue streaks on her cheeks.
My cock was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my crocked riding dress. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her shake her question in disbelief, for before he stood a man with a 10"humanness, and quite heavyset too. Her eyes followed my dick in disbelief as it made its way towards her closely slit. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll rupture my dry opening. Please, at to the lowest degree lube it."She realized the implications of her request too late. My dick traced a lead of pecum over her abdomen and tits as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her lips. This clip I didn't even listen to her pathetic requests, the minute her mouth opened for an entreaty my pecker went in. As her middle bulged along with her shout impertinence, I felt a sloshed moist tactual sensation plunge my dick. Eager for more, I pushed harder, slamming my putz against the backrest of her head. She was now directly underneath me, our dead body connected by my shaft as it pressed against her skull. In this position, it'd be toilsome to press it down her throat, that'd have to be for later, For now I began to saw the percentage that could go in, in and out of her mouth, making it nice and wet for her under lips.
I don't think she'd ever taken a dick in her rima oris before, for she was soon gagging, trying to shake her head. This had the effect of causing my hawkshaw to slap against the insides of her cheeks, which had presumably been damaged by my laborious smack. She winced and gave up the endeavor, breathing through her nuzzle as I instructed her. I picked up pace, fucking her sloshed oral cavity with big vigour, but measured not to cum yet. I'm for sure she'd have hoped at some point that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to outrage her pussy. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist cock out of her clapperclaw back talk, and aiming it at her snatch. Her mouthpiece was not yet equal to of speaking, and I used this silence to mean she was prepared for her vaginal encroachment.
As with every assault I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any breath of tenderness. In one swift stroke I was in, realizing only when I'd broken it than she had been a Virgo. Pulling it out, I admired the red streaks on my cock, before burying it fully into her pussycat. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably tight. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to pee the most out of this stroke of fortune. Still marvelling at the tightness of her hollow, I grabbed the sides of her thigh, and gradually pulled out, only to push back again with great force.
My lover howled in pain, shaking her head and making incoherent movement with her limbs as she tried in vain to escape from the searing suffering that must have been pulsing through her body from her vagina. I now began to be intimate her with big power, pummeling her tummy and teat every time she tried to lurch herself. A slight sound told me I'd in all likelihood intermit one of her rib, but I didn't'care - she existed for my pleasure, and I was getting it. It was as if her body was designed to supply me pleasure directly in symmetry to her pain in the neck, for as she screwed up her centre and screamed into the sky, her kitty muscles 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 misuse lips to have me again, this time with no Hope of any rawness.
Farhana was especially respectable, and I came for a farsighted time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the youngest of my company, staring at me with center that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a good lad, having saved my life sentence in a late sortie when a horse fancier almost had me from the back. He had been left to guard the entry to the Village, and though this was customary for the youngest of the gang, he clearly rued the omit chance. 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 aspect clearly showing the punishment a person found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a prisoner in the spread out ) could bear. Instead he heard his boss calling upon him to show his manliness to the whore who'd birthed the enemy materialization. For a here and now he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to have thought her ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a virile vernal man join her rapist, she began to crawl away, her middle showing a despair seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his boss'prostitute, whether to grab and rape her or to await for me to pass the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knees, he grabbed her and knocked her down. I walked over casually, surveying his physique with appreciation. Nodding at him to remove his apparel, I pulled the woman towards me, throwing away the remnant of her burqa. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to examine her ass gob as Yaldir's 7 in turncock was exposed. I signalled him to embark on with her mouth as I began to gear up for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some form of reader during this form of her violation. These Bob Hope would have been rudely shattered when I pressed my dick against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my fingerbreadth. Yaldir had already made his way into her oral opening, her body gently rocking as he fucked her. For a mo I wished I'd used her mouth in this emplacement, but infernal region, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the other hand aimed directly at her pucker brown muddle. The slime from her mouth and twat and my cock still there to act as lube, I plunged my fellow member into her hold out Virgo pickle.
Farhana would have screamed had Yaldir not been taking her mouth. In the event she gagged on his peter, causing him to pull in out. This led to her completing her scream, before I signalled him to drive his hawkshaw back in. On my part, her backdoor, even blind drunk than her pussy, coupled with the melodic wow emanating from her rima oris, caused my cock to harden inside her body. This growing made her ass seem all the more than tight, her anal retentive muscular tissue likely tearing as they suffered the first encroachment of her short life.
My pleasure, and also that of Yaldir was interrupted by the appearance of Mirwaiz, who was our chief scout. He had just gotten news that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't arrest aloof from the sex scene unfolding before him. I handed him my sawbuck whiplash, instructing him to whip her across her back, but avoid our cocks or her hands and legs.
The first blow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew easily than to pull out this time, instead enjoying the special constriction of her pharynx. At the Saami metre the force per unit area of her anal muscularity on my pecker was unbelievable. Timing my following slash for the succeeding blow, I was again treated to the exhilarating combination of a womanhood's anal retentive sinew squeezing one's cock desperately as the thick corded whip landed on her thin waist. I pulled out and ( whack ! ) slammed in again. Whack whack rap. Her white backside was developing red weal, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the crossings. Whack on her shoulder blades, knock on her lower back, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a rhythm by now, fucking her like a long pole with our cocks buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our bodies and Mirwaiz's whip forming an orchestra of which the tool was Farhana.
I fucked her harder and harder as I approached orgasm, forcing the others to proceed in strain, forcing the bawd between us to adjust till she could adapt no More. As a whip appeared veracious across her small back to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him close up his eyes in ecstacy, holding Farhana's header to his groin as he came in her mouth. As he finished up, I realized I too could not hold for long. Taking a little whiplash, I signalled Mirwaiz to turn back. Instead I aimed the party whip heterosexual person across her back and brought it down upon all her former combat injury with tremendous personnel. Her interpreter rang out across the grit as her ass squeezed down on my tool like a velvet frailty. My self-control collapsed, the flood gates opening in her cocksucker as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal musculus 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 absolutely by this time, so we hoisted her up over the bound of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly gained consciousness as the metal tip ripped through her bowel, spewing rip down the shaft of the spear. 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 quick death. I left her there, staring at me with half glaze over eyes as her ass leaked cum and her kitty origin.
It was by now time to go back. Some of the other women who'd been used by the raiders were similarly dispatched. The ray of a spear broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. medical exam knowledge being what it is, we left her like that as she blubbered and convulsed on the bloody flat coat. While we were fucking, three more fair sex had been caught from a nearby barn. One of them was a very inadequate thin little girl, barely 18, with petty of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the bicycle seat well, and it fell upon her to lie flat on the horse's back her pussy accessible to my stopcock. The other women were either tied and put in the Equus asinus cart or, in case of one who'd bitten a spoiler, dragged behind the handcart.
It was a enjoyable ride back, my dick sawing in and out of her mean orifice as I rode on the horse. It was a exceptional foreman's privilege ( not formally of course ) to despoil a cleaning woman on hogback, and as I pumped my freight into her defenceless kitty-cat, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a real chief of my tribe. Sadly, my destiny was different.
The first signs of the ill wind were received in the very hour I returned from this excellent raid. A few of our loot horses had been stolen by another tribe, and the pursuing political party had been killed in fight. Among them was my cousin, and this incensed me no end. Leaving the char to be tended by the attendants as they saw fit, I headed straight for the gaffer'hut, where worried and queasy faces met me.
"Rashid, do you have it away what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the current chief of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were mutter of annoyance at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to heed. Instead he told the group about the horses ( and women ) I'd captured during the raid. Most of them listened to the item with unusual interest, the rationality for which became clear only when I learnt that the raid by the regular leaders on a different tribe had been a signal unsuccessful person.

I'm not one to triumph over my victories, rather I'd prefer to head into another engagement. This time however, the future battle came from an unexpected stern. Qaglich caravan inn, an elder who had a hereditary disfavour for my category, stood up"My crony, it becomes clear-cut that the rash actions of this young man are the grounds behind the nonstarter of our raid today. He took our best sawhorse, reduced our numbers pool, and forced the elders to attack a lesser place."
I was stunned. The horses belonged to us, captured personally by me and my friends during the old raids. 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 literary argument was even more ridiculous as the flak on a lesser expanse had failed. But the elderberry bush were by now looking at me with a mix of bitterness and ire, which I found difficult to deflect. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my detractors had a goodness championship in the council, I had none. The tilt were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no need to trace the tribal arguing in point. You were thrown out shortly prior to the annihilation of your tribe by the Yalitiz tribe. You went to Markaz, a metropolis on the sea. But book tell us there were only three the great unwashed in the group that arrived. Where did the fourth 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 story ?"
"You know very well we're here to get a line you mouth Rashid. Please continue."
"Fine. Have it your way, the sooner we're done the ripe. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decision was taken, I was asked to leave within twenty four hour. All our Bos taurus were taken away in return for the paltry sum of 5000 dirhams. All we were left with were a Equus asinus and my horse. To make matters worse, as I was leaving, that asshole again spoke up
‘ And take your slovenly woman sister with you. We don't want her ruining our son'manhood."
I took it as an offhand insult. Cursing the state of personal matters, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the conclusion, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would consume succeeded, had it not been for that contumely turning out to be confessedly.
My rest home back then was at the border of a humble rooftree, a fall from which would not drink down you but break your limbs. It was separated from the settlement proper by a humble aloofness which housed the stables of the tribe. As I checked on my horse to bring in sure it was in good health should I actually have to evacuate the adjacent day, I was surprised to find the sound of a girl coming from behind them.
Wondering what on land was happening in my own tribal base, I peered lash out the edge of the stable, and was stunned to find my older sister with a man. Worse, not only was she stark naked but he was in fact a member of one of our rival tribes, one which had waged a war of vengeance against us not long ago. He must have sneaked into the village, but that didn't explain why he was with my sister or why she was moaning loudly as he rammed into her wet hole.
Uptil that sentence I'd known myself as a equilibrate someone, one who could control himself and his ire. That was the number one time I lost this self ascendance, and all because of a dullard slovenly woman of a sis. Letting out a roar, I had my sword in my manus before either of them were aware of my bearing. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her snatch as I swept the sword in an arc an inch from my sister's terrified face, slicing her devotee's neck opening into two His head, the look of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the solid ground even as his soundbox continued to pinch from the mixture of interjection and demise spasm.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to push him out. This she did in a fog, her eyes filling up with tears at this red bout of events. I would hold strangled her to death then and there for the act she'd done, but to my misfortune we were discovered at that very moment. Worse, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich Khan.
The scrawny bastard had been watching the transactions 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 fragrance the minute the kid went and told them.
To take in affair high-risk, she had, in her reckless passion, headed behind the horse barn leaving her clothes behind a shrub that was in the present circumstances a Roman mile off. Cursing I headed there to retrieve her clothes, but saw a crowd gathered there by the fourth dimension I returned. The kid had cooked up as news report 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 brass now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very lilliputian influence on the minds of the prejudiced minds of the elders. When that pudden-head farting called Qaglich spoke of how the spirits were unhappy with me and my crime 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 family, instead encouraging them into immoral acts unbecoming of a peachy tribe.
You'd understand that the pain sensation was nada to me, hell, I'd felt often greater pain in fighting. It was the humiliation that hurt me almost. That old fart's son wielded the whip, and fifty dollar bill cam stroke were what I got, swearing to avenge each one of them on the suit of my shame. There was talk of the town of stoning the whore to decease, but I wanted to punish her myself. So my friends were surprise when I asked that she be left alone. The elder agreed on shape that we packed up and left before dawn the next day.
My back burning, I headed back with my gunny dismissal covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The moment we got habitation, she landed hard on the floor from a backhand stroke 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 Holy Scripture that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the carve up dormancy elbow room for the females that she began to sob. I was too pissed to think about the future immediately, rather I wanted to penalize the whore. But Qaglich's confederate were roving around like hawks, causing me to devote my time and attention to the project of packing matter. Not that there was much to pack. We aren't a rich tribe, and ever since my father was removed things have gotten worse - he atleast cognize how to deal.
As I tended to the gymnastic horse and domestic ass, getting them gear up, my mother and sister packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a corner crying, too stunned by the brutish end of her buff to respond. The boxing was done by midnight, and we were ready to leave by the metre the first rays of the sun were breaking through the rugged hills in the aloofness. It was cold, but I refused to let the culprit wear anything beyond the burlap bag she'd been given by one of the village girls upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the accustomed greeting given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few stones behind our caravan ( my mother had persuaded the chief's married woman to two camels instead of the domestic ass, we had originally owned four horses and four camels apart from the donkey ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge expanse that covers two third base of our country.
As the palisade wall grew smaller, I turned back to the three cleaning lady in the back, and was annoyed to get hold the senior of my gradation sisters clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my anger, and sought to intercede.
‘ Please she's a young girl, consecrate her a chance."
"luck. Because of her we're going away. Because of her I had to take lashes from that one-half breed Qaglich's crybaby. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M jr. stepsister was weeping silently, hugging the older one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the crazy road was all that lay ahead and behind us. The following stopover was a near twenty sea mile away. I decided this was as beneficial a clock time as any to punish my woman of the street sister. Stopping my horse, 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 young lady friend by her long hair and pulled her down onto the hot sand, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old cleaning woman came next, pulled bodily down and thrown away. The slut, whose name was Sahiba, crawled away from my clasp public treasury I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her towards me.
She made one last effort to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the face, knocking one-half her white teeth down her throat. stemma erupted from her mouth, as she fell to her knees, her hired hand folded as she begged me with extensive eyes. For the first off, and last sentence in my life history, I noticed how somewhat she was. Having a roundish aspect like her female parent, she had encompassing brown eyes and hair that could overhaul of as brown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the trunk. Good enough for a rape, you'd say. I'd have agreed, for that's what I did.
Grabbing her roughly by the pilus, I yanked her up. Her bridge player flew to her abused mane, her mouth, resembling that of a 7 year old tiddler now, making mumbling racket. I held her up before me, looking into the pock eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the whiplash, the expulsion and the gloating face of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My mitt almost dropped her as the personnel of my slap on her cheek rocked her lose weight soundbox. more blood line erupted from her face, her eyes now screwed up in pan from the mixture of fear and pain.
As the other two females looked on in threat, I threw her on the ground, landing three tough gripe on the burqa clad design. She rolled into a fetal position, her boldness wrinkled by an saying of acute hurting. You'd ask me how I could penalize my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would have punished a thousand of my sis like that, and risky, if they did anything of the kind. Plus I'd never regarded them as sister, or my stepmother as my mother. They simply existed so I could do my obligation to the folk while they did the body of work at home.
Hence I felt no pricks of that thing you call conscience as I watched the female writhe in excruciation on the hot sand. In fact, I landed another hard on her rib, causing a cracking sound. She looked at me with an expression of awe and repulsion, never having expected her own"brother"to be so savage. At that moment however, I felt gnarled mitt on my chest of drawers, and looked up to see"mother"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not kill her so. I told her that she was partly creditworthy as she'd raised a whore like Sahiba, and she should be repenting instead of asking for mercifulness. She returned to Anima, the younger girl, and both resumed their crying.
The girl had lain on the ground for some time now, and in bitchiness of her annoyance, must deliver realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to crawl away, a look of utter desperation on her 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 wide-cut extent possible. It was likely she wouldn't survive the ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a whore to die for shaming her syndicate. Unfortunately for her, as she made another attack to crawl away, the crushed region of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty second joint to my gaze. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see more of her physical structure.
Back in the hamlet I would have abstained from any such military action, as that may have earned me an projection as well. Now however, there was no one for miles around, and she was not the rude youthful girl but a sobbing creature who would anyhow be punished. power as well cook this hard work a little more pleasurable for myself.
She collapsed on the hot basis as she saw me bend down. Did she require me to grab the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? Likely she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the fabric of the burqa was comparatively flimsy, causing it to pull in my hands, leaving her ass exposed to my regard. Amid renewed howling and swearing from the woman that had birthed the whore and her babe, I pulled Sahiba up by her waist.
The hot sand helped again, for it burnt her exposed skin, causing her to willingly grant me to peck her up. Infact, I soon had the lady friend in my weapons system, having spared her the torture of the hot sand. Her terrified eyes, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the terror of returning to the hot grit bed. As she considered the alternative in that dolt mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty blood in those good pink petal for the get-go and last time. She resigned herself to the kiss, preferring it to the prospect of being brutally raped on the primer. But I had no spirit of sparing her any of her agony. Pulling away, I ripped off the rest of her burqa as she danced on the hot moxie, then threw her surd on the primer coat again.
Her scream wasn't as melodious as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dingy bareness of the desert. I kicked the writhing public figure on the ground right in between her leg, eliciting another musical howling 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 desperate attempt to break away. This only placed her in a temporary worker doggy manner, allowing me to press my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the land. As her consistency met the priming coat again, she screamed, this time begging me to toss off her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend enough fourth dimension punishing her, and the sun was getting high over our straits. Soon, she would be roasting on the Sand if she lay there : I had to move fast. She was again in a crawling stead, almost up on her metrical unit 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 find the immature sister turn up, pulling in vain at my warm arms as they held her adulteress sis. As I finally began dragging her backbone, I felt a burning at the stake pain in my wrist. The beef had bitten me !
TO make matters worse, the jade whore, whom I was restraining, used my surprise to break free and run even as her sister remained latched onto my fucking articulatio radiocarpea. Smarting under the pain in my wrist, I broke gratis from the younger daughter with a surd clout to her abdomen, before giving chase to my fleeing prisoner. She did not build it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could clear off on my sawbuck. As she learnt to her dismay, the horse was more patriotic to me than she had been, and refused to budge. Her clumsy pull at its reins caused it to put down a gruelling recoil on one of her branch, causing her to collapse on the sand. I reached her and landed half a XII hard kicks on every part of her torso, breaking her teeth, ribs and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the forte to get up from the sand though it was turning her back from a shining red to brown.
Wasting no to a greater extent clip, I kicked her wooden leg apart and freed my fellow member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the prospect of fucking a impertinent cunt. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her working girl jam as she continued to writhe in pain. Like Farhana she could not bear to look into the pure hatred in my centre, and this fourth dimension I didn't military unit her to. Instead I grabbed her fleshy heap, smaller than Farhana's, but larger than the middling cunt you find in those share. Mauling and pinching them severely, I looked at her human face, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the wand of passing out from the pain in her loins and in her back, forcing me to slap her a few metre to ensure she felt every here and now of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her pussycat for some time. It was tight, fond and had it not been the exposed desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken gravid pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not delight her charms, especially the periodic squeezes on my putz when her already roasting human body touched more char sand, or my hand played with the various piece of her slutty consistency. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the circumstances a good thing as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speeding, my thrusts causing her to sway like a rag chick on the reason, her eyes rolling in her brain from the acute pain in her body. On purpose I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the sand myself while forcing her to compress down upon it even as my thrusts caused her voiced skin to rub against the unsmooth grains. As I approached orgasm, she again appeared to be passing out, and this metre I had to grab her nipple, pulling her up by their weighting. Any moderation this would have given her from the George Sand was Thomas More than made up by the suffering in her breasts, for she howled out like a mosh dog. Her kitty clenched tighter than ever on my cock, asking for her"brother's"seed. My cock obliged, exploding in her pussy 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 prison term I was done she had passed out, but had a faint pulsation. Not wishing to waste any of our preciously body of water on the cocotte, I instead pulled her onto the cavalry like the puss the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to trace. They had little choice in the matter, complying with my dictation like two thrash about donkey. Satisfied that it was leaving nada to the desert apart from the tag of Sahiba's burqa, I mounted my knight, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a small goody for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to strike however, turned the slut ‘ sis'over, so that her fair titmouse were replaced by the maroon back. Spreading her ass cheeks, I aimed my hammer at her derriere entrance. She offered no active opposition, still being passed out. Her asshole was surprisingly easy to penetrate, making me wonder if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibilities, I pushed my set hammer into her arse. Satisfied that it was indeed inside, I raised her handwriting and tied them behind my neck. This put her weighting upon my neck opening, but it was the only solution as she wasn't as short as that other pussy. It had the added attracter of causing an intense pain in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was ready, I took control of the horse cavalry with one paw and my peg, having been trained to elicit stem from hogback in this style. The free hand went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a Trotskyite, resuming the journey across the barren wastes at the head of my"class ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive criticism and suggestions, including how the plot should continue, are always welcome. incompatibility, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for interpretation .