The Specialist - The Good Ol'days
Anal, Blowjob, Group-Sex, Humiliationthis fib was written based on the idea of a lector. However the plot and descriptions are mine. it contains extreme violence and mercilessness. Please note that the source wishes to describe a fictitious earth which has no connection to any billet, person or sentiment whatsoever.
If you do not like extreme point wildness, including murder and mutiliation, do n't show this. If you can shoot 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 one-half closed eyes, the lilliputian torch in the elbow room insufficient to secern his expression. The man circling him however, did not seem to need such entropy, he had all he wanted. Well almost.
"What do you want ?"asked the man in the death chair, getting up menacingly."How did you get in here ?"
"Wouldn't it be wiser to ask who we are ? Or do you already hump ?"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. serve it to say that we've heard a lot of good things about you, and we're impressed. But before we can hope you, we'd like the unit 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 know. Now get the fuck out of here."He took two quick steps towards the man, before jumping back cursing, rubbing his forearm.
"I see you have a deep stigma on your wrist, Mr Rashid. Care to set about with how you got it ?"
"Some cunt bit me."
"Exactly, now if you don't want to be treated like a stray dog"he waved his curved blade casually"kindly throw the details. And yes, you can own a seat."
Rashid sat down cursing, surveying the room for to a greater extent assaulter. He quickly noticed two more than blocking the doorway to the stairs and the balcony. Though hidden by the low light, Rashid's inherent aptitude told him they were armed. evasion was out of the question. The man began his story.
"You seem to know quite a lot about me. Iqbal said I could rely you with the whole story, but the way you barged into my room-"
"Cut to the chase Rashid"
"Fine, fine. Where do I lead off ? You know I'm not a aborigine, my skin colour says as much. You would also know by now that I'm an illegal immigrant from a bedamn billet filled with nothing but guns and sand. And oh yes, a few dozen tribes always at each other's throat. Anyway, I belonged to one of them. Let's call it the Jamalliya tribe.
My dad was a close relative of the headman, so I'd a just 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 Holocene epoch raid. I never saw my mother again. My new folk consisted of two young woman and a fat mother, who grew steadily fatter as the girls grew curves and I developed sinew. But in these dissipation lands there's piffling clip to enjoy crime syndicate life, and men and women are generally expected to exist apart and do their own workplace. If you excel in your work, you get a spatial relation on the tribal council, otherwise you're mocked and ( if you have a beautiful wife/daughter ) killed and your family taken away.
There's short to distinguish oneself in in those desiccated lands beyond warfare if you're a man, and producing children, if you're a adult female. I had potential in the previous, having learnt to rally a cavalry by the time I was ten, and could shoot from the saddle by 16. I also had a brutal streak, they used to say. When we raided the villages of the enemy kin ( and once a outlander'oil company office ), the men used to first drink down all adult males, then take the charwoman. By cleaning lady I mean any pussy that was ten years and above. We were left with the rest. Among them were the old fair sex and the children. I developed a habit of plunging my brand into the stomach of those old men and cleaning woman, hearing them scream in their collapse voices before spasming and going limp. Sometimes I'd carry the heads of my kills 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 aura is there in killing old women ? None, it's just something I did, and still do sometimes. But a man needs real glory if he's to find a position of big businessman in the tribe. All the more so in my case since there were those who were determined to forestall me getting the headship. So I formed my own grouping of raider, composed of men of my age. With them I used to foray into the settlement without support, sometimes being forced to withdraw when things got too hot. At early times however, when we succeeded in entering a poorly defended Village who's women had not fled or killed themselves, we had some fun.
First we would go from firm to planetary house, searching for any remaining men. Unlike some of our tribal leaders, I didn't order all the teenaged boy to be killed. Instead, they were taken back, and based on their talents, made part of our radical. The women on the other hand, were grouped by age. The one-time died first, their consistence having nil to volunteer in restitution for sparing their life history. I followed the usual method of stabbing them in the belly, or sometimes in their sagging dried up pap, watching them implode in a crashing jam as their eyes rolled in their skulls, and more often than not, gold showers erupted from between their legs.
The secondly radical consisted of women between 30 and fifty, who were perhaps too old to be bred, but Thomas Young enough to be raped. They were tied by their hands to the rod, their butt either resting on the ground or raised in the air. Their legs were then stretched till they touched those of the next woman ; these were then tied, forming a hanker blood line of bound cleaning woman with let on pussies. Leaving two to three men in charge of the youngest group, the rest of us would unbuckle ourselves and get down to job. Each char was different to be reliable, and well-nigh tried to give their best to persuade us to let them live. Some however, glared at us as we violated their most intimate arena. This led to their being stabbed in the eyes before the violation resumed again.
I could tell you about a dozen or so women who stood out for their surpassing meanness and indeed, operation on my peter. Sadly a sound majority of them must have been prudes, for they glared at me all along, and barring one 32 twelvemonth old woman ( 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 stamp out the rest period. Some killed them while fucking, plunging a knife into their lungs and watching them die slowly. Or into their heart itself and blunder out to the feel of a dying charwoman spasming on your peter. Others gutted them after raping them, one even managing to outflank out some of the bloody semen from her gaping cavity.
I preferred to obliterate them directly, beheading them with one quick stroke of my brand. I guess you haven't seen a beheading except on motion picture have you ? swell it's something we'd learnt to do right from the time we'd learnt to ride a gymnastic horse, so to utter. And there's something unequaled about the way her heavy head, centre still pleading with you, comes off, toppling like a big round Lucille Ball placed atop a fragile receptacle. If you were good enough, you could snaffle the head as it fell, perhaps plunging a knife held in your other paw into the soft neck as well.
Anyway, once the moment group had been raped, and a good many killed off, the few who wanted to take souvernirs did so, chopping off limbs, heads ( if they'd gutted the adult female ) and tits as the repose of us surveyed the most crucial of the three radical. This live grouping consisted of the youngest female person, from zero to twentynine. The point was to get the women who could be future breeder, and more importantly wives. You see the recurrent foray meant passing of good females for all clan. We had to secure females from others if we were to survive at all.
There were fair sex in our tribe who would inspect the huddle female person and decide who was fertile who was not. For the moment however, it was the physical property such as the curve of the waist, the weight unit of the breast ( verified by ripping off the burqa ) and the broadness of the second joint, which decided who would get whom. Being the leader of the crew, I got the first pick. The ones I picked were usually not more than 20, though I didn't violation adult female immature than 18 usually. Nevertheless, I took the safe stuff, the single whose heavy pap hung like right melon vine on their chest, just waiting to be plucked. My choices had cut waist, preferably with long hair's-breadth that covered their back. And I liked char who were a slight feisty.
One such feisty woman was Farhana. I've forgotten what her kin group was, we conducted so many raids you see. But she was a real beauty. Have you seen the female striver brought from Tarmait ? Do you see the Andrew Dickson White colouring material of the best of them, with whitish breasts that defy gravity ? Do you comment the way they stand, their hips thrust out waiting for a man to cover them ? have you noticed the look of lustful love in their demure eyes ?
Farhana was one of them, standing at a shadiness 5'5"and weighing hardly 50 kgs. By this time I was 21, about 6'4 and Sir Thomas More brawny than any in my gang. My"female parent"said I was handsome. It didn't matter when we raided though. The raid that caught Farhana was a particularly arid one, yielding just four productive females and an old hag we tied to the rachis of the donkey handcart carrying the women. Someone said it was Farhana's aunt, which may explain her passionate hatred for me. Hatred made more appealing by her exquisite Oriental face and large eyes.
I'd noticed her standing in the middle of her small-scale hut, defending a curt man of about forty. 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 pitiable hamlet, lacking even a good stalls. Since there were so few cleaning lady, we decided to simply throw them on the primer coat and have them. I noticed the others noticing Farhana as I threw her on the terra firma, her burka lifting to shew her thin white legs. Giving a admonition glare to the others, I asked them to take their own char and get down to work.
For my section I prevented her from getting up by placing a foot on her abdomen, gently pressing her John L. H. Down. She responded by thrashing about under me, eventually raising her manpower to excise me. I wasn't amused, and landed quite a few flush on her dilute waist. Pointing my blade at her chest, I forced her to confront the fact that her independence, or whatever she'd enjoyed upto that full point, was over. She continued to glare at me, but this meter I did not blind her. Instead I stared directly into her eyes, boring into them, making my mastery and powerfulness over her frail configuration patent.
She couldn't hold up the intensity for long, looking away with a expression that said she'd understood what would come about to her if she disobeyed me. Removing my foot, I lowered myself beside her. Logos were impossible as the thigh-slapper of the rest of the women drowned any speech. Looking up, I saw Tarqash lubricating a char with his sword handle, as the horrified charwoman 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 stone pit. She'd lain silently at my foundation, but as I grabbed her hijab, she protested again. I didn't maintenance, ripping off her instrument of modestness in a brutal move that casued some of her fuzz to tear off as well. I pocketed it as a token. Farhana had beautiful hair, now mixing with the junk as it spread out in luxuriant folding around her head. Her sass were full and pinko, the way l liked them.
immobilizing her hands with mine, I lowered myself till her tits touched my thorax, her face just edge away from my athirst lips. Pressing down further, I touched my backtalk with hers. They were the likes of soft petal, parting at my touch to allow me to suck them, as a real lover would. Parting them foster, I probed deeper with my clapper, loving the way her mouth tasted. I sought out her knife, finding the organ as it sought to avoid middleman, but it could scarcely turn tail. Instead it was forced to toy with mine as I forced her to depend at me. Those beautiful brown optic were now filled with a plea, a fair sex's supplication to be treated like a wife. I chuckled at her naivete, seeing the Leslie Townes Hope turn to ashes in those chocolate-brown pools. My sass parted hers, and I raised myself.
Farhana was again looking away as I placed my bridge player on the cones my pectus had felt earlier. They were piano and large, like soft bagful waiting to be mauled and pinched by my rough callused deal. Grabbing her thin burqa, I began to rip it off. The blaze in her eyes returned, but it was immediately replaced by a weak plea"Please not in public. Not like this."I continued to deplume away, shifting myself so I could rip it right down to her second joint. Pushing the soft disgraceful stuff away, I quickly disposed of her fragile unmentionable, finally revealing her magnificent bosom to my thirsty regard.
They stood up like small Hill even as she lay flat, making me inquire how a lot 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 brown nipple, each a liquorice nub an in and a half hanker, pulling them hard. Her voice joined the chorus of screams around us, but I could still pretend out her musical scream."Please maestro, stop it hurts ”. Laughing again, I placed my palms on the nips, enjoying the flavor of their toilsome wind. Pressing down till my finger covered her full mounds, I began to draw out the flesh into my palm tree, till my digit were buried in her chest, clamping her nub into my vice like bridge player.
I stayed like that for a moment, loving the satiny flesh against my rough hands. The raft too was magnificent, her fair flesh exposed and abused by my vauntingly palms as she began to weep silently. Releasing her pap, I marvelled at the deep red brand made on her tits, one of which was leaking a trickle of parentage. Smiling, I pressed down again, this clock time squeezing with all my might, causing her eyes to broaden to their uttermost extent, her mouth opening broad to nail an face of stark excruciation. Someday, I'd thought then, I'd ask an artist to bewitch that looking at for me.
But fourth dimension was running out. The few men who'd not been caught could return at any here and now to wreak havoc on my distracted men. Getting up, I wiped the blood from her tits on her torn burqa, before beginning to rip the remainder of that useless garment away. This required the freeing of her feet, and the moment I did so, she kicked out at me. Unfortunately for her, a poorly aimed rush hit me on the nose. Stopping my rape on her attire, I moved higher, till my furious phiz was directly above her terrify one. Before she could mumble any excuses, I'd landed to hard slaps on her brass, causing one to turn puritanic. rake erupted from her lips, which I sucked away before tearing the eternal rest of her burqa off.
Her underskirt was made of a blockheaded material that could not be easily torn. I simply raised it till it was bunched round her waist. This exposed her thrashing but nevertheless lovely legs to my gaze. Grabbing the reduce brown ankle joint, I forcibly pulled her wooden leg apart, causing her to wince and whimper. She made a self-conceited effort to raise herself from the dusty undercoat, but one unvoiced punch on her flat tummy ended such dream instantly. As she lay down again to cry, I examined her pussy. It was unkempt and shaggy-coated, making me question if she'd ever had sex. I was also annoyed at not finding a light kitty. Grabbing a fistful of her pubes I ripped them off, causing her to startle on her ass in pain. Another chunk came off, then another, till her cutis was irritated and damn, while tears freely ran down the red and grim streak on her cheeks.
My tool was hard as obsidian by now, straining against my tight riding garb. Pulling it off, I looked down to see her judder her school principal in skepticism, for before he stood a man with a 10"manhood, and quite thick too. Her eyes followed my pecker in disbelief as it made its way towards her tight slit. When it touched her, she finally spoke up,
"Please, it'll teardrop my dry orifice. Please, at least lubricate it."She realized the implication of her request too late. My prick traced a trail of pecum over her abdomen and mammilla as I moved higher, till it was dangling over her lips. This fourth dimension I didn't even listen to her pathetic petition, the consequence her rima oris opened for an prayer my dick went in. As her eyes bulged along with her abused boldness, I felt a tight moist feeling engross my cock. Eager for more, I pushed harder, slamming my cock against the back of her point. She was now directly underneath me, our bodies connected by my light beam as it pressed against her skull. In this lieu, it'd be grueling to push it down her pharynx, that'd have to be for later, For now I began to saw the constituent that could go in, in and out of her lip, making it nice and wet for her under lips.
I don't think she'd ever taken a peter in her mouth before, for she was soon gagging, trying to didder her drumhead. This had the effect of causing my dick to slap against the interior of her impertinence, which had presumably been damaged by my hard slaps. She winced and gave up the effort, breathing through her olfactory organ as I instructed her. I picked up gait, fucking her tight mouth with greater energy, but careful not to cum yet. I'm indisputable she'd have hoped at some detail that should I cum, I'd be spent enough not to ravish her pussy. Sadly for her, I didn't cum, instead moving my now moist stopcock out of her maltreated sass, and aiming it at her twat. Her mouth was not yet equal to of speaking, and I used this quiet to mean she was prepared for her vaginal encroachment.
As with every ravishment I've ever made, this too was without preamble, without any hint of softheartedness. 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 cock, before burying it fully into her snatch. She had been right about her pussy, it was remarkably loaded. This was not surprising given I'd just taken her virginity, and I was determined to make the well-nigh out of this stroke of fortune. Still marvelling at the tightness of her hole, I grabbed the sides of her second joint, and gradually pulled out, only to agitate back again with not bad strength.
My lover howled in painfulness, shaking her head and making incoherent movements with her limb as she tried in vain to run away from the searing torture that must have been pulsing through her physical structure from her vagina. I now began to fuck her with greater military group, pummeling her stomach and titmouse every time she tried to shift herself. A slight sound told me I'd in all likelihood broken one of her costa, but I didn't'care - she existed for my pleasure, and I was getting it. It was as if her body was designed to render me pleasure directly in proportion to her pain, for as she screwed up her center and screamed into the sky, her pussycat sinew seemed to compress me harder and harder, till she sent me over the edge. Sometimes I kill them when I cum, but this time I kissed her, forcing her abused lips to accept me again, this time with no hope of any softheartedness.
Farhana was especially good, and I came for a recollective time. When I was done, I saw Yaldir, the youngest of my company, staring at me with eyes that clearly envied me. Yaldir was a in force lad, having saved my liveliness in a previous sortie when a equestrian almost had me from the backbone. He had been left to defend the entree to the village, and though this was customary for the untried of the gang, he clearly rued the pretermit chance. Seeing me looking at him, he turned away in shame and walked off. That's when I decided that Farhana had one mess left still. I called out to Yaldir.
The lad turned around abruptly, his case clearly showing the punishment a someone found spying on his chief ( even if he was fucking a prisoner in the subject ) could expect. Instead he heard his chief calling upon him to testify his manliness to the whore who'd birthed the enemy offspring. For a moment he couldn't believe what I'd just said, then he timidly came up. Farhana appeared to birth thought her ordeal was finally over. Now as she saw a male young man link her raper, she began to crawl away, her heart showing a desperation seen in a deer who was being hunted.
Yaldir wasn't sure what to do with his genus Bos'whore, whether to grab and rape her or to hold off for me to lead the way. Finally, as she was going past him on her knee, he grabbed her and knocked her down feather. I walked over casually, surveying his physique with admiration. Nodding at him to slay his clothes, I pulled the adult female towards me, throwing away the remnants of her burqa. Her plump ass was exposed to me, allowing me to probe her ass muddle as Yaldir's 7 inch pecker was exposed. I signalled him to start with her mouth as I began to fix for the invasion of her ass.
Farhana had clearly expected me to act as some kind of referee during this phase of her violation. These hopes would have been rudely shattered when I pressed my dick against her asscrack, before parting her anus with my finger's breadth. Yaldir had already made his way into her unwritten orifice, her trunk gently rocking as he fucked her. For a moment I wished I'd used her mouth in this position, but hell, let the kid enjoy himself. I on the early hand aimed directly at her cockle brown hole. The slime from her back talk and pussy and my cock still there to act as lube, I plunged my penis into her last virgin fix.
Farhana would experience screamed had Yaldir not been taking her mouth. In the event she gagged on his cock, causing him to pull out. This led to her completing her scream, before I signalled him to campaign his cock back in. On my part, her backdoor, even blotto than her cunt, coupled with the melodic scream emanating from her lip, caused my pecker to indurate inside her body. This growth made her ass seem all the more tight, her anal muscles likely tearing as they suffered the first-class honours degree invasion 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 program that I was needed in my village. He too, however, couldn't stay aloof from the sex picture unfolding before him. I handed him my horse whip, instructing him to whip her across her rachis, but avoid our dick or her workforce and legs.
The 1st blow of the horsewhip made her gag and struggle again, but Yaldir knew better than to overstretch out this time, instead enjoying the extra coarctation of her pharynx. At the same time the pressure of her anal muscles on my hammer was unconvincing. Timing my next throw for the future gust, I was again treated to the exhilarating compounding of a cleaning lady's anal heftiness squeezing one's cock desperately as the thick corded whip landed on her fragile waist. I pulled out and ( Whack ! ) slammed in again. wallop rap whack. Her Patrick Victor Martindale White backside was developing red wheal, which crisscrossed, blood erupting at the crossroad. Whack on her shoulder blades, rap on her bring down back, then diagonically across her backside. Yaldir and I had developed a rhythm by now, fucking her like a long perch with our putz buried at each end. We fucked her harder and harder, our consistence 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 prostitute between us to adjust till she could line up no more. As a whiplash appeared right across her low backbone to complement the six already there, I looked up at Yaldir to see him fill up his heart in ecstacy, holding Farhana's straits to his jetty as he came in her mouth. As he finished up, I realized I too could not hold for long. Taking a smaller party whip, I signalled Mirwaiz to quit. Instead I aimed the whip square across her rachis and brought it down upon all her former wounds with wonderful force. Her spokesperson rang out across the sands as her ass squeezed down on my cock like a velvet vice. My self-control collapsed, the flood gates opening in her asshole as I whipped her again and again like a useless mule, causing her anal muscles to spasm, milking my cock for all it was deserving. Spent, I pulled out of her, allowing her to pass out on the primer coat.
You may ask what I did thereafter ? Well, Farhana was half utterly by this time, so we hoisted her up over the sharpness of a spear, and then lowered her gradually. She briefly benefit cognizance as the metal tip ripped through her bowel, spewing blood down the shaft of the spear. Unfortunately for her the angle wasn't exact, and though we'd negotiated her depressed bones, it got lodge among her ribs, preventing her from dying a quick death. I left her there, staring at me with half glassy oculus as her ass leaked cum and her pussy blood.
It was by now fourth dimension to go back. Some of the other women who'd been used by the raider were similarly dispatched. The calamus of a spear up broke when mounting a particularly fat cow, leaving half of it wedged inside her. aesculapian knowledge being what it is, we left her wish 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 forgetful thin fille, barely 18, with little of tit or ass. Still she fitted in the saddleback well, and it fell upon her to lie flat on the horse's back her slit accessible to my shaft. The other adult female were either tied and put in the donkey handcart or, in event of one who'd bitten a raider, dragged behind the cart.
It was a gratifying ride back, my cock sawing in and out of her tight orifice as I rode on the horse. It was a limited head's privilege ( not formally of course ) to rape a woman on horseback, and as I pumped my cargo into her defenceless pussy, I felt that I'd finally become capable of becoming a real boss of my kindred. Sadly, my fate was different.
The number 1 signs of the ill malarky were received in the very 60 minutes I returned from this fantabulous raid. A few of our prize horses had been stolen by another kin, and the pursuing party had been killed in scrap. Among them was my cousin, and this incensed me no end. Leaving the women to be tended by the attendants as they saw fit, I headed straight for the chiefs'hut, where worried and dying faces met me.
"Rashid, do you recognise what happened ?"asked Qader Jan, the current chief of the tribe.
"I heard."
There were muttering of annoyance at my abrupt reply, but Qader Jan didn't seem to heed. Instead he told the chemical group about the cavalry ( and woman ) I'd captured during the maraud. Most of them listened to the details with strange interest, the intellect for which became clear only when I learnt that the raid by the regular leaders on a different tribe had been a signal failure.
I'm not one to gloat over my victories, rather I'd prefer to point into another battle. This clock time however, the next battle came from an unexpected quarter. Qaglich caravansary, an elderberry bush who had a hereditary dislike for my category, stood up"My brethren, it becomes clear that the rash natural process of this young man are the reason behind the bankruptcy of our raid today. He took our best horses, reduced our numbers, and forced the elderberry bush to lash out a less place."
I was stunned. The horses belonged to us, captured personally by me and my admirer during the premature raids. As for the men, it was an afford secret that they wouldn't have been included anyhow. With a vocalization choked with ire I pointed this out. His argument was even more farcical as the fire on a lesser domain had failed. But the senior were by now looking at me with a mix of rancor and anger, which I found difficult to avert. My cause was further harmed by the fact that whereas my knocker had a good backup in the council, I had none. The arguments were getting heated-"“
‘ Mr Rashid, there is no need to key the tribal arguments in detail. You were thrown out shortly prior to the disintegration of your kin by the Yalitiz tribe. You went to Markaz, a urban center on the sea. But records tell us there were only three multitude in the group that arrived. Where did the fourth go ?"
Rashid looked with a sullen verbal expression at the man who'd interrupted him. Swearing under his breath, he said"if you interfere, why don't you continue the story ?"
"You know very well we're here to hear you verbalise Rashid. Please continue."
"Fine. Have it your way, the Sooner we're done the just. So where was I ? Oh yeah. After the decisiveness was taken, I was asked to leave within twenty four hours. All our cattle were taken away in issue for the paltry sum of 5000 dirham. All we were left with were a donkey and my horse. To relieve oneself topic unfit, as I was leaving, that SOB again spoke up
‘ And take your jade sis with you. We don't want her ruining our boy'manhood."
I took it as an offhand contumely. Cursing the res publica of affairs, I wondered if I could get the council to reconsider the decisiveness, taken so unfairly and hurriedly. Maybe I would have succeeded, had it not been for that insult turning out to be true.
My dwelling house back then was at the sharpness of a small ridgepole, a fall from which would not kill you but break off your limb. It was separated from the hamlet proper by a small-scale length which housed the horse barn of the tribe. As I checked on my sawbuck to take a shit trusted it was in good health should I actually have to evacuate the future day, I was surprised to find the strait of a girl coming from behind them.
Wondering what on earthly concern was happening in my own tribal base, I peered assault 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 appendage of one of our rival tribes, one which had waged a war of vengeance against us not long ago. He must give birth sneaked into the village, but that didn't explain why he was with my sister or why she was moaning loudly as he rammed into her wet hole.
Uptil that time I'd known myself as a balanced someone, one who could contain himself and his choler. That was the first time I lost this self ascendance, and all because of a pillock slut of a sister. Letting out a holla, I had my sword in my hand before either of them were aware of my comportment. The man was apparently ejaculating, and remained stuck in her slit as I swept the blade in an arc an column inch from my sister's terrified facial expression, slicing her fan's neck into two His head word, the locution of pleasure still carved upon it, fell to the earth even as his organic structure continued to flip from the mixture of ejaculation and expiry spasms.
When he stopped writhing, I signalled her to crusade him out. This she did in a stupor, her eyes filling up with tears at this wild turn of events. I would have strangled her to death then and there for the act she'd done, but to my bad luck we were discovered at that very consequence. Worse, it was the cousin of that old fart, Qaglich Khan.
The scrawny bastard had been watching the proceedings 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 diagram. Getting up, he ran again till he was out of sight. I knew the elderberry bush would be hot upon the scent the bit the kid went and told them.
To make matter spoiled, she had, in her reckless passion, headed behind the stables leaving her wearing apparel behind a shrub that was in the present context a international mile off. Cursing I headed there to recall her wearing apparel, but saw a bunch gathered there by the time I returned. The kid had cooked up as floor about how the man and I had been jointly fucking her. He had ( so he said ) killed the foeman but preferred to confab with the elders before doing anything with me.
Pissed as I already was, I held my heart now, explaining what had actually happened. It unfortunately had very slight influence on the minds of the prejudiced minds of the elders. When that pudding head fart called Qaglich spoke of how the look were unhappy with me and my kinsperson, it was the end of any promise I may ingest hitherto entertained. regretful, they ordered that I be flogged publicly for not controlling the women of the household, instead encouraging them into immoral bit unbecoming of a great tribe.
You'd understand that the pain was zilch to me, the pits, I'd felt much keen painfulness in combat. It was the humiliation that hurt me most. That old farting's son wielded the whip, and fifty dollar bill strokes were what I got, swearing to avenge each one of them on the suit of my shame. There was talk of stoning the whore to destruction, but I wanted to penalise her myself. So my friends were storm when I asked that she be left alone. The elder agreed on consideration that we packed up and left before morning the next day.
My back burning, I headed back with my gunny sack covered step-sister beside me. I think she was trying to say something, but I was having none of it. The present moment we got home, she landed hard on the flooring from a backhand slap on her fair buttock. My stepmother came running upto us, asking me what had got the fair sex of the folk so worked up. I explained in as many words that we were leaving.
She didn't comprehend it immediately, and it was not until I had shoved her into the part sleeping room for the females that she began to sob. I was too pissed to believe about the future immediately, rather I wanted to punish the woman of the street. But Qaglich's henchmen were roving around like hawks, causing me to pay my time and attention to the labor of packing things. Not that there was much to bundle. We aren't a rich tribe, and ever since my founder was removed things have gotten worse - he atleast knew how to switch.
As I tended to the Equus caballus and donkeys, getting them ready, my female parent and sister packed up, the guilty one simply sat in a corner call, too stunned by the brutal end of her buff to respond. The packing was done by midnight, and we were ready to get out by the sentence the first light beam of the sun were breaking through the rugged hills in the space. It was cold, but I refused to let the culprit wear anything beyond the gunny bag she'd been given by one of the village girl upon being discovered naked.
The villagers gave us none of the accustomed greetings given to those departing, rather that Qaglich threw a few stones behind our train ( my female parent had persuaded the primary's wife to two camels instead of the donkey, we had originally owned four horses and four camels apart from the donkey ), as we moved out of the palisade gates into the huge surface area that covers two thirds of our country.
As the palisade rampart grew smaller, I turned back to the three adult female in the vertebral column, and was annoyed to receive the elderberry bush of my whole tone babe clad in a burqa. My stepmother sensed my anger, and sought to intercede.
‘ Please she's a young young lady, give her a chance."
"opportunity. Because of her we're leaving. Because of her I had to take eyelash from that one-half breed Qaglich's WIMP. And you say I spare her ?"
She went quiet. M younger half-sister was weeping silently, hugging the Old one. Neither of them said anything. I looked back, the softheaded road was all that lay ahead and behind us. The side by side stop was a expert twenty dollar bill Admiralty mile away. I decided this was as good a time as any to punish my tart Sister. Stopping my horse, I asked the women to get down.
All three sensed what I was about to do, and they wrapped themselves round the slut. Annoyed, I grabbed the younger miss by her long hair and pulled her down pat onto the hot Sand, where she lay whimpering and writhing in discomfort. The old cleaning woman came side by side, pulled bodily down and thrown away. The slattern, whose figure was Sahiba, crawled away from my grasp till I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her towards me.
She made one live endeavor to get away, scratching me till I punched her in the grimace, knocking half her blanched teeth down her pharynx. Blood erupted from her sassing, as she fell to her knees, her hands folded as she begged me with extensive eyes. For the firstly, and last time in my animation, I noticed how somewhat she was. Having a roundish face like her mother, she had widely chocolate-brown eyes and hair that could excrete of as brown. At 19, she still had freckles, but appeared well developed in the eubstance. sound 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 workforce flew to her abused mane, her mouth, resembling that of a 7 year old tyke now, making mumbling noises. I held her up before me, looking into the scared eyes, boring into them with all the pent up hatred that the lashes, the expulsion and the gloating human face of Qaglich had filled me with. Smack ! My hand almost dropped her as the force of my slap on her impertinence rocked her thin organic structure. Sir Thomas More blood erupted from her cheek, her eyes now screwed up in pan from the mixture of fright and pain.
As the early two female person looked on in terror, I threw her on the ground, landing three hard kicks on the burqa adorn figure. She rolled into a fetal position, her expression wrinkled by an locution of acute pain. You'd ask me how I could punish my own sister like that. Well I have no doubts I would suffer punished a thousand of my babe like that, and unfit, if they did anything of the kind. Plus I'd never regarded them as Sister, or my stepmother as my female parent. They simply existed so I could do my duty to the tribe while they did the employment at home.
Hence I felt no incision of that thing you call conscience as I watched the female writhe in suffering on the hot Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin. In fact, I landed another backbreaking on her ribs, causing a cracking speech sound. She looked at me with an verbalism of awe and horror, never having expected her own"comrade"to be so cruel. At that here and now however, I felt gnarled hands on my breast, and looked up to see"mother"beseeching me to let her go. She even suggested that I whip her, but not wipe out her so. I told her that she was partly responsible as she'd raised a whore like Sahiba, and she should be repenting instead of asking for mercy. She returned to Anima, the youthful female child, and both resumed their tears.
The girl had lain on the ground for some metre now, and in spite of her botheration, must birth realized that the sand was as hot as an earthen oven. She began to crawl away, a tone of give tongue to desperation on her face. If she'd shown the same desperation while trying to jib that man, she wouldn't have suffered this luck. 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 fullest extent possible. It was likely she wouldn't survive the ordeal, but it wouldn't be anything new for a tart to die for shaming her family. Unfortunately for her, as she made another attempt to crawl away, the depressed part of her flowing garment rode up her ass, exposing her meaty thighs to my gaze. Almost imperceptively I found myself wanting to see Sir Thomas More of her body.
binding in the village I would have abstained from any such legal action, as that may have earned me an expulsion as well. Now however, there was no one for mi around, and she was not the rude youthful girl but a sobbing creature who would anyhow be punished. Might as well make this hard work a little more gratifying for myself.
She collapsed on the hot ground as she saw me deflect down. Did she expect me to take hold of the hem of her burqa and try to rip it off ? in all likelihood she didn't, but that's exactly what I did. Infact, the material of the burqa was comparatively thin, causing it to buck in my mitt, leaving her ass exposed to my gaze. Amid renewed howling and curse from the adult female that had birthed the whore and her sister, I pulled Sahiba up by her waist.
The hot backbone helped again, for it burnt her reveal skin, causing her to willingly countenance me to plunk her up. Infact, I soon had the girl in my weapon system, having spared her the distortion of the hot George Sand. Her terrified heart, now very close to me, appeared torn between escaping me and the terror of returning to the hot gumption bed. As she considered the alternative in that stupe mind of hers, I kissed her roughly, tasting her salty roue in those full pink petal for the first and last time. She resigned herself to the osculation, preferring it to the prospect of being brutally raped on the undercoat. But I had no intent of sparing her any of her torment. Pulling away, I ripped off the rest of her burqa as she danced on the hot grit, then threw her arduous on the ground again.
Her scream wasn't as melodious as that of Farhana, but it was pleasing amid the dreary forlornness of the desert. I kicked the writhing figure on the solid ground right in between her legs, eliciting another musical ululation from my"sister ”. Much as she'd have liked to persist in the curled up position she now assumed, the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin would not let her. Unwindng she made a do-or-die endeavor to turn tail. This only placed her in a temporary doggie manner, allowing me to press out my sandal down on her still covered back, slamming her against the ground. As her consistence met the ground again, she screamed, this time begging me to down her quickly. I simply told her that wasn't my intention.
I'd spend enough clock time punishing her, and the sun was getting high over our heads. Soon, she would be roasting on the Sand if she lay there : I had to move fast. She was again in a crawling position, almost up on her feet 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 happen the youthful sister turn up, pulling in vain at my strong arms as they held her slut sister. As I finally began dragging her vertebral column, I felt a burning at the stake pain in my wrist. The bitch had bitten me !
TO crap matter spoilt, the jade whore, whom I was restraining, used my surprisal to break devoid and run even as her sister remained latched onto my crashing wrist. Smarting under the pain in my wrist, I broke liberal from the younger young lady with a hard punch to her abdomen, before giving Salmon P. Chase to my fleeing prisoner. She did not make it far. For some reason she'd decided that she could make off on my sawbuck. As she learnt to her dismay, the horse was more loyal to me than she had been, and refused to budge. Her ill-chosen pulling at its reins caused it to land a hard kick on one of her legs, causing her to crack up on the Baroness Dudevant. I reached her and landed half a dozen gruelling kicks on every part of her dead body, breaking her teeth, costa and arms. I stopped only when she no longer had the military strength to get up from the sand though it was turning her book binding from a lustrous red to brown.
Wasting no more time, I kicked her legs apart and loose my fellow member from its confines. It instantly hardened at the medical prognosis of fucking a smart snatch. Lowering myself onto her, I rammed into her tart pickle as she continued to twist in bother. Like Farhana she could not yield to appear into the pure hatred in my oculus, and this fourth dimension I didn't personnel her to. Instead I grabbed her fleshy cumulation, humble than Farhana's, but bigger than the average twat you find in those parts. Mauling and pinching them voiceless, I looked at her face, which was sweaty, bloody and red all over. She seemed to be on the brink of passing out from the pain in her pubic region and in her back, forcing me to slap her a few times to ensure she felt every moment of her torture.
Meanwhile I'd been ploughing in her puss for some time. It was tight, warmly and had it not been the out-of-doors desert with its relentless sun, I'd have taken greater pleasure in raping her. Not that I did not enjoy her charms, especially the periodic squeeze play on my peter when her already roasting build touched more scorching sand, or my hand played with the various office of her slutty eubstance. Unlike Farhana, she had lubricated easily, which under the context a practiced matter as it was made fucking her easier.
I picked up speed, my thrusts causing her to shake like a rag chick on the ground, her center rolling in her head from the vivid pain in her body. On purpose I pressed down on her waist, thereby avoiding contacting the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin myself while forcing her to press down upon it even as my thrusting caused her soft skin to rub against the rasping grains. As I approached orgasm, she again appeared to be passing out, and this sentence I had to snaffle her nipples, pulling her up by their weightiness. Any relief this would have given her from the George Sand was more than made up by the excruciation in her white meat, for she howled out like a thrashed dog. Her cunt clenched tighter than ever on my cock, asking for her"brother's"source. My cock obliged, exploding in her cunt with an intensity which caused the desert and the heat to disappear for a moment as I was lost in pure bliss.
I came for what seemed like an eternity. By the sentence I was done she had passed out, but had a deliquium heartbeat. Not wishing to waste any of our cherished water on the sporting lady, I instead pulled her onto the horse like the cunt the day before, signalling to the two sobbing women to keep an eye on. They had little choice in the matter, 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 burka, I mounted my horse, which neighed in gratefulness. Giving it a modest treat for the patience it'd shown, I took the reins. Before ordering it to incite however, turned the strumpet ‘ sister'over, so that her bazaar mamilla were replaced by the brownish-red back. Spreading her ass cheeks, I aimed my cock at her rise entrance. She offered no active impedance, still being passed out. Her asshole was surprisingly easy to interpenetrate, making me wonder if that man had taken her anally as well.
Not bothering about such possibilities, I pushed my hardening cock into her arse. Satisfied that it was indeed inwardly, I raised her hands and tied them behind my neck. This put her system of weights upon my neck, but it was the lonesome solution as she wasn't as short as that other cunt. It had the added attraction of causing an intense pain in her arms when she came out of her unconsciousness. Once everything was set up, I took mastery of the Equus caballus with one hand and my wooden leg, having been trained to fire bows from horseback in this way. The loose bridge player went to her tit, mauling it as I moved into a Trotskyite, resuming the journeying across the barren wastes at the mind of my"family unit ”.
( to be continued….. )
Written by Pandorius999
( pandorius999 @ gmail.com )
Constructive criticism and suggestions, including how the plot should proceed, are always welcome. repugnance, if any, are regretted.
Thanks for version .