This new room was different and was lavishly decorated. It contained desks and chairs, with maps, fruit and drinks aplenty. One area was sectioned off with a partially translucent veil across it. This area had a bed with a large throw and fur blanket. The solider led her to this sleeping area and then securely tied both her wrists with short lengths of material to iron rings on each side of the bed head. He then left her alone in this room.
The world became a dance of colours and warm feelings as she lay there. She lounged on the bed, trying to make sense of this all, not knowing what to expect. The fabric patterns in the roof of the tent gyrated and flowed before her eyes. Colours flashed then faded. Her body felt like it floated above the bed and astounded at a feeling of weightlessness. A single thought repeatedly wandered into her befuddled mind. ‘What was a Khan?’
It was starting to get dark when a servant came into the room. She watched him through the veil as he lit a fire and candles, then placed a meal on the desk. She tried to call to him, but her voice was quiet and slurred and he ignored her presence, quickly leaving. The meal smelled delicious and she was still hungry but it was far out of her reach.
A group of men came into the tent, each in the same dress, but with one clearly more ornate armour that the others. The men took turns talking to this man, who seemed to be their leader. He pointed to some of the maps, describing something about them or something he wanted done. The servant came in and distributed drinks then stood in the corner of the room waiting. The leader then gave a small speech in their incomprehensible tongue then all the men drank from their cups in unison then made a formal gesture of bowing. When showing this sign of respect, she heard the nearest utter the word ‘Khan’ and then they all left, save the leader and his servant. She realised this must be his tent and he must be the Khan.
She had not uttered a sound, and no-one had yet acknowledged her presence on the bed. Through her swimming vision she watched the Khan as he started to remove armour and under jacket assisted by the servant. He sat at the table and started his meal. He reviewed some documents his servant brought to him. He uttered some commands and the servant motioned towards then bed, clearer away the dishes and documents then left.
They were alone now and outside light had faded away, leaving only the candle light and the dancing patterns that the flames created on the tent wall and roof. The Khan came to the veil and parted it. She got to see him more clearly now. He was somewhat older than the other soldiers she had seen so far and clearly of the same ethnicity. He seemed unsurprised at her presence on his bed and started to remove his clothing, shirt first. He looked at her with an intense stare, and she had nowhere to hide from it.
The Khan’s body was scarred but was taut and trim. He removed his trousers and she saw his naked form. She saw his penis, large and semi erect, pointing towards her. It was the first time she’d seen a man expose himself in this way. He spoke to her, but she couldn’t understand. She now realised she hadn’t escaped the fate that the solider had in mind for her on her first capture, it had just been delayed and now knew what the woman had meant by ‘honouring the Khan’.
She felt alarm, panicked like an animal in a snare, no-where to escape to. She wanted to flee but her legs were leaden and thoughts were foggy. He approached her from the foot of the bed as she recoiled against the headboard. He got closer with casual movements knowing she could not escape. She tried to lash out with her foot, to strike him but the attempt was feeble and was easily fended off. He caught her by the ankle and her robe had slid open with her struggles. She realised her mistake as she felt naked and exposed to him as he grabbed her other leg. He was strong and in this state she was powerless to resist. He found restraints from the side of the bed, and tied then to her ankles so she was immobile, with legs splayed. She might have been impressed by the physique of this man, but she still felt some indignancy at the restrainst.
He slowly parted the robe revealing her naked form, uncovered save for her arms. The Khan grinned. He brought his mouth to her breast and suckled on her erect nipple. She wanted to scream and fight, but the feeling was so pleasurable, and she heard herself release a moan. He did then same with the other breast with the same result. She could smell sweat and horse from his body. She felt his naked muscled body press against hers, feeling the warmth of his body contrast with the cooler air of the tent.
The Khan was slow, savouring his exploration of the girl’s body. His hand stroked up between her thighs until it rested on her dark pubic hair. She felt vulnerable, no-one had ever touched her there. His fingers moved through her hair until they found her silky slit. She tried to struggle again but was unable to slacken her restraints or verbalise a coherent protest. He stoked her delicate folds casing her to gasped and her body writhed at the sensitive touch as his fingers explored this virgin territory. Sometimes his touch was tender, sometimes firm, sometimes rough, teasing to provoke a response from her. Each contact triggered a new sensation, fascinating and distracting as the feelings of fear and panic subsided to a fog of emotions, so she felt only good.
He moved up her body to her neck, kissing and licking as he went. He moved up by the bed’s headboard, upright on his knees. From the corner of her vision she could see is erection imposing on her face. She was transfixed by his cock now intruding on her perception. How it looked, how it moved. He put his cock on her face, letting it falling across her check, nose and eyes. She couldn’t tell its actual size, but in her mind it seemed immense and felt heavy. It radiated heat and the smell was intense, with a distinct but unknown odour. She didn’t know what to do so tried to shake her head to get it off her but as she did, her mouth opened, slack jawed and her lips brushed the tip which smeared a thick fluid across them. She wanted to wipe off the mess but was smeared into her mouth and she tasted salt and bitterness.
The Khan moved back down the bed and sat between her splayed legs. He dropped his head to her groin, and she felt him start to lick the inside of her thigh. The sensation on her exposed skin was shocking as she squirmed and whined. This seemed to encourage the Khan even more. Again he delved into pubic hair, finding her labia but this time he started to lick. She inhaled sharply and whimpered at his oral assault; her body reacted of its own accord. She’d never experienced or even conceived of such a pleasure that was now emanating from her groin. He licked and licked with the carnal sound of the girl’s wails and moans only spurring him on.
The joyous sensation built within her body until it became too much, and she cried out and struggled against her bonds as her mind overflowed with bliss. 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.
As the world slowly came back into focus, she could see the Khan sitting on his haunches upright between her legs. He towered over her small slender frame and she could both see and feel his hard erection at the apex of her legs, resting amongst her pubic hair and pointed upward to her face. She was both fascinated and horrified at this sight. 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. Back then she had felt funny sensation between her legs at the spectacle and she remembered her wondering how the mare had felt when the stallion’s large cock had penetrated her.
The Khan leaned backwards, holding himself better to position himself between her legs, then pushed forwards to find his mark. She felt the pressing of his penis insisting against her entrance. She knew she must be wet so there would be little resistance to his intrusion. The first inch of his manhood slid admitted easily but then she felt her body resist his invasion. She didn’t know what to expect next but seemingly he did. He smiled as if he knew what this meant and looked down into her eyes with a look of glee. She knew she was powerless to resist him as he claimed her as part of his victory spoils.
The Khan pushed his hips forwards again. She felt the pressure built and then something capitulated within her. She gasped as her body reacted to his penetration, stretching and expanding to accommodate him. If there was pain, it didn’t register with her conscious mind cocooned with an aura of bliss. The Khan roared from his throat and buried his considerable length all the way into her. She gasped, marvelling at this feeling of stretching and fullness with a deep touch in places of her that she’d never been aware of before. The Khan held deep within her for a few seconds, pressing their bodies together, then he withdrew. She momentarily thought that might have been the ordeal was done, but again he pushed into her and again the fullness returned, slightly deeper this time as her body surrendered to him. His motion became rhythmic, pushing into her then retreating, in and out. The thrusting sensation became a singular centre, a nucleus of delight that grew and grew to fill her awareness.
She never thought should sensation were possible, never imagined that any man could provoke her body to feel this way. This Khan that commanded armies of men now commanded such exquisite control of her body, better than she knew it herself. Her will was now bent to his as she gasped and moaned incomprehensibly with the elation built within her to greater and greater heights. Her hands meekly clawed at the bed, aching for her release, but she also didn’t want this euphoric feeling to ever end.
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