WARNING: This story contains graphic punishments for infidelity. Thanks to Nightbird for his editing skills. A Stitch in Time Okhasha Bin Mohsin rubbed his temples; his wife was driving him mad! She knew that he wanted an heir, but he had found a small wine skin containing Black Seed Oil among her possessions. Imbibing just a sip of that after they had joined would prevent her from having a child. Damn that bitch! He had taken her from an unsure fate and made her a wife, not just any wife, but a chieftain’s wife. He gave her everything she wanted, but she refused to bear his child. As chieftain of the Al Khamsa tribe, Okhasha was ruler of one of the most powerful Bedouin tribes. He was a feared opponent, yet he could not control his own wife! This problem will require much thought if I am to deal with it properly. He looked at his wife bent over from the waist reaching for something. Her slim body was still discernable through her flowing robes, her firm ass-cheeks pressing tightly against the fabric. The woman is an affront to Allah! Did not the prophet Muhammad state, “Women who would be dressed but naked, Curse them for they are truly cursed." It was a shame that such a woman would flaunt her god given beauty and have such a cold heart. ‘Twas merely a few days later than Bashka, one of the most disreputable members of his tribe, came to Okhasha and inferred that he had some information vital and would be glad to share it for some consideration. Okhasha had dealt with this type before, he stared at Bashka’s leering eyes and unwashed face; he felt his rage building. Okhasha threw the filthy insignificant creature to the floor and began flailing him with his sheathed scimitar. The shrieks brought Okhasha’s guards into his tent where they watched the spectacle with open mouths and their swords half drawn. “Tell me you misbegotten spawn of a scorpion, what news have you that you wished to squeeze a ransom from me?” The bruised and broken wastrel sobbed, pleading for mercy. “Your eminence, most kind chieftain of the Al Khamsa, stay your noble arm and I will tell you my most distressing news. Even as I speak, your misguided wife is in the tent of one Toualeb, the blackguard.” Okhasha drew his scimitar and held the curved bade to Bashka’s throat. “You had better not be lying to me dog or the sands will drink upon your blood this day.” Okhasha strode from his tent, led by his naked scimitar. A growing crowd of tribesmen, women and children followed in his wake. The tent of Toualeb was shut up tight, as if for the night. Okhasha’s sword quickly opened a slit in the side of the tent. He grabbed both sides and tore open a new doorway. A sight that would shock even the most jaded camel awaited him. His wife, his naked wife, kneeled in front of the brute Toualeb with his large cock in her mouth, the noises of her sucking was loud and the greatest outrage to Okhasha. Her eyes were closed, but Toualeb’s were not. They widened as he felt the sharp blade of the scimitar at his throat. His large uncut cock suddenly shriveled in her mouth and slipped out as he stepped back. The harlot’s eyes opened and she screamed. A trio of guards grabbed Toualeb disarming him and pushing him to his knees. Okhasha grabbed his sluttish wife by her long dark hair and dragged her from the tent. He dragged her to the center of the encampment and called everyone to him. Once the entire tribe had gathered around, he spoke loudly, “You see here my former wife, a harlot found naked with this man and pleasing him.” Okhasha pointed at Toualeb, who hung his head in shame. “They will be punished according to the laws that have been passed down through the generations, Observe!’ Toualeb was dragged forward stripped of all his clothes, his saddled horse held by a guard behind him. Okhasha drew his jeweled dagger and waved it aloft to the crowd. “Behold, a gift from my former wife, the slut, will be the instrument of her lover’s end.” A guard bent down and pulled his flaccid member forward from his kneeling body. One swift cut separated Toualeb’s genitals from his body; the guard dropped the bloody flesh to the ground. Okhasha went to Touleb’s horse and buried the dagger in the rear of the saddle. He grabbed the harlot by the hair and dragged her to his tent. Meanwhile two guards tied the screaming Toualeb backwards on his saddle, and sent the horse running out into the desert with a hearty slap to its flanks. Summoning his second in command, Okhasha requested his saddle, a large needle threaded with coarse twine, and all of the men, five at a time, to be brought to his tent. When his saddle was brought Okhasha dragged the slut to the end of it by her hair. He spun her around so that her feet were touching the saddle. Guards grabbed her by her ankles pulling her legs to either side of the saddle and tied her legs to it. He then plopped down on the saddle facing her spread foul hole of infidelity. Okhasha stuffed her fuck-hole with desert sand. Handful after handful was packed tight until no more would fit. The slut was whimpering as he rudely filled her unholy vessel of deceit. Okhasha then held up the needle with his right hand and grabbed her swollen lips with the other. She started screaming at the top of her lungs knowing what was to come. He proceeded to stitch her outer lips up tight, each thrust of the needle bringing a howl from the harlot. When the stitching was done, Okhasha cut her legs loose, rose, and threw her bodily across the saddle. Her stomach rested on the smooth leather, while her naked ass was stuck up into the air. The men inside the tent were speechless. None of them had every seen this before, although some had heard of it being practiced centuries before. Okhasha was washing his hands, the final task needed to separate any connection with the slut forever. Her name would be stricken from the history of Al Khamsa forever. It would be like she had never existed. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Okhasha growled at the waiting men. The first one unlimbered his shaft from his robes and walked to the prone harlot. He plunged his dry prick into her tight ass-hole. She started screaming once again, which was ignored by all. He pumped her virgin butt hard and fast, soon flooding her unclean hole with his cum. The next man strode forward. His cock was monstrous, and even with the dripping semen lubricating her sore ass it brought forth more howls and screams from the debased woman. The third man and every other man that followed spit on his cock then coated it with a covering of sand. Her ass started to bleed as Okhasha watched on satisfied. He knew this tale would be told around evening fires and he would never have to deal with a straying wife again. The last Okhasha, or anyone, saw of his nameless former wife was her staggering into the desert while the sun was hanging low in the sky. Copyright 2005 msboy8 (email=msboy8@yahoo.com)