The Lieutenant's fate (With link to a picture)

The Leader sat still in the darkness, his every nerve on fire with the fear of discovery. He had felled the alien bitch with one blow, and she had gone down without a sound. Still his blood ran icy with terror. After the blessed good fortune of finding the cursed traps of the interlopers dormant, surely the Many Armed Gods would not be so cruel as to snatch away the coming victory from the True People ?

The seconds trickled by.....no sound, no sign of wakefulness from the camp. Breathing a little easier, the Leader rose from his frozen crouch. Grasping the fallen bitch by the wrists, he hauled her body slowly down the slope, each sound, every rustle of fallen leaves, every skitter of small stones, sounding as loud as thunder in his ears. Finally he reached the cover of the trees at the base of the incline, pulling the dead guardswoman after him.

The Leader paused to down smile in satisfied triumph at the dark skinned, haughty faced bitch he had felled, before begining the short journey back to his group. She had been a comely cunt, he had to admit, her ebony skin alien and exotic, her body slender, with beautifullly toned legs, delightfully tight buttocks,and proud high breasts displayed by her tight white clothing. The silver glint of the tags she wore around her neck caught his eyes...a perfect victory totem. He reached down to snatch them from her.

The bitch's tits were moving....still alive by the Many-Armed Ones.

With a low snarl, the Leader lifted a rock to smash down on the woman...then paused, a slow smile spreading over his face. No, far too easy.....he had a far better idea. Reaching out, his hand cupped one of the fallen cunt's breasts, kneading and stroking it as he whispered to her, feeling the thick nipple grow turgid, jutting against his massaging palm through the clinging fabric of her uniform.

"Oh you will die alien....but you will die slowly, knowing your fate"

Humming softly under his breath, the leader bound the dark skinned woman's wrists firmly together, before drawing a thong of banda-leather from his hunting pouch. Normally this was used to make snares, but it had other functions too. He soaked the leather with water from his pouch, before tying it tightly around her throat. It would dry slowly against the heat of her skin, constricting as it did so, **** the life from her. The Leader fervently hoped that the she would be awake to feel every moment's agony. Grinning fiercley, he rose, and moved silently back toward his group, leaving the Lieutenant to her fate......

((Address for an image of this thread))

http://www.raunchyminds.com/gallery/details.php?image_id=9807&mode=search