The black sheep usually doesn't follow the crowd because every once in a while, the crowd is literally going the wrong way in mass

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 The black sheep usually doesn't follow the crowd because every once in a while, the crowd is literally going the wrong way in mass   The black sheep usually doesn't follow the crowd because every once in a while, the crowd is literally going the wrong way in mass  It takes a black sheep to stand out and say, 'Hey, I think we're headed off a cliff here!' They may be labeled as outcasts or rebels, but in reality, they're the ones who are brave enough to challenge the status quo and forge their own path. Let's celebrate the black sheep in our lives - the ones who inspire us to think differently, to question the norms, and to embrace our individuality.

Warlord's Concubine

Warlord's Concubine


Warlord's Concubine

Deep within the fortress dungeons a beautiful woman cries out in terror. Nude and suspended high above the razor sharp tip of a brutal impalement post tears well up in her eyes as she finally realizes her desperate pleas for mercy are being ignored by the only man capable of saving her life, her lord and master, the warlord.


The warlord watches in silence as the executioner gradually lowers his former concubine downward on to the waiting point of the impalement post. He savors the exquisite look of fear visible within his concubine's deep blue eyes as the doomed young woman feels the tip of the impalement post brush between the moist folds of her sex.


unimaginable horror that fells the woman's seductive eyes as she feels the thick steel shaft of the impalement post sliding upward into her vagina forcing her sex to stretch to accommodated the shaft's massive belly straining girth as the moment of truth approaches. That final moment where the warlord could still chose to spare his beautiful concubine's life.

That brief, almost timeless, moment when the full weight of the concubine's sexy young body comes to rest upon the unyielding tip of the brutal impalement post, a moment shattered by an agonizingly high-pitched scream as the shaft's razor sharp tip ruptures the woman's cervix and impalement post continues its deadly upward journey into her abdomen.


Within a few short moments the woman's head comes back in a silent scream as the sharp tip of the impalement post slides obscenely upward from between her sensuous full lips. Working quickly the executioner guides the tip of the shaft upward until it enters the steel ring at the top of the woman's restraints. Untying the winch's rope, the executioner leaves the warlord's dying concubine fully impaled on the unyielding steel shaft, her dying body suspended from her manacled wrists, her toes forever unable to reach the dungeon floor. Young and strong, this one should linger for at least a day or two before she finally dies.

The warlord stops to admire the beauty of his former concubine one final time before returning the fortress above and to the woman he's already selected to take his slowly dying concubine's place in his bed. He knows that, in a year or two at most, he'll eventually grow bored with the new woman already awaiting him within his bedchamber she'll end up down here in the dungeons where she'll meet the same gruesome fate as all his previous concubines.

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