The Khan pushed his hips forwards again. She’d been on the sunny hill side, tending their livestock when she saw the group of mounted soldiers appear at one of the ridge lines. She was also secured with her hands above her head with her back to the pole and then left among the group of confused and distraught girls. The Khan leaned backwards, holding himself better to position himself between her legs, then pushed forwards to find his mark. He caught her by the ankle and her robe had slid open with her struggles. His fingers moved through her hair until they found her silky slit. Her mind swam, dissociated from the moment and she recalled a time on the farm when a stallion mounted one of their mares in heat. It was like a floating on a golden river of joy with waves of pleasure lapping over her, an all-consuming delight encompassing her being.
