Sanal Khuree: The Gift

Again I found myself in an inconsistent state of emotions. I cannot deny that I felt a raw stirring deep in my loins seeing his unbridled power. He possessed this woman, he possessed me, he seemed to possess the will of his father the king. Then he reached down with his strong hands and pulled her buttocks to the sides, exposing her sexuality. She uttered a sound then, and it seemed that it might be one of pleasure but I was not sure.

Then he raised his hand, striking down hard on her skin. She made a soft sound but was wise to avoid making any greater noise. Again he struck her. Then he moved towards her, his erect manhood pushing onto her buttocks, and then to her sex, and I watched in fascination and fright as he penetrated her and in a few quick thrusts relieved himself of his manly urgings. Was this brought on by his gaze at my naked breast a moment earlier?

Then he pulled back to himself, slapped the girl one more time on the buttocks, hard, and sent her out of the hut. If she was one of our villagers, I hoped she would be protected by my father's brokered agreement from any further mistreatment by the king's men tonight; however, from her dress I thought it more likely that she was from another region. Did he have a harem of such women? Was I destined to become one of them?

After this display of virility, he calmly went to the water bucket and continued to clean himself with soap and water all over his body. I was in a daze, not understanding what I had just seen. He was a fit young man, fresh from the thrill and release of a day's battle, and I concluded that this was his way of releasing tension before his evening with me. I wasn't sure if I was offended or in fact pleased by his actions. My brain knew it was uncharitable to think of this peasant girl as the appetizer to my main course, but the sexual being deep inside me couldn't help note my apparent high position with respect to her.

While he cleaned, I had a chance to look at him more closely. He wrapped a wet towel around his entire head, covering his eyes and face and neck, and leaned back, relaxing for a moment. I examined his naked body from head to toe. It was exquisitely toned, from years of hard riding and battle training. This was a man who could fight, it was clear. I wondered who were the women he fought for. I watched him move the towel around his head, the muscles on his shoulders and arms flexing as he did so. His stomach was smooth and powerful and showed the faded scars of slashing wounds from previous battles, long since healed. I wondered if I would be a woman that he would care for, and fight for, or if I was just a glorified version of the peasant girl to be discarded after tonight.

Then he gave a big sigh, pulled the towel off, and walked directly to me. I noticed as he looked again at my face and down at my exposed breast, that his manhood began to grow again. Even in my predicament, I shook my head in wonderment at the eagerness of this young man and the intensity of his sexual drive. He caught my slight smirk and lowered his eyebrows at me. I didn't feel that he was angry, but he didn't appreciate my cavalier attitude. This was a man ready to get down to business and show me who was the boss.

He came near to my face again and kissed me on the lips, at first softly, then harder. I could feel the intensity of his passion. He moved his hands down to my chest, and further ripped the blouse. He pulled it wide open so that my breasts were exposed for him. He grunted as he ran his hands over me from my neck to my breasts, roughly. Then he slapped my breasts, and pinched the nipples. My firm breasts thrust out to him, arched as I was on the board, and I could feel my nipples hardening in response to his stimulation.

Then I was treated to a firsthand experience of the sanal khuree's operation as he reached to pull one of the ropes behind my head. My hands, bound as they were, could not resist the upward pull as the rods were lifted by his actions. My arms went up until they stuck straight out from my body, and then as he pulled further they stretched up and over my head. It wasn't painful, but with the arch of the board pressing into my back and my hands raised over my head, he was given perfect access to my breasts, which he took advantage of for many minutes. I looked down and saw his manhood firmly erect. I knew what was coming and I tried to breathe slowly and calmly. I had not been with a man at that point in my life but I knew how it was going to go; and I could not imagine how his manhood was going to fit inside me.

Satisfied for the moment by his long attention to my breasts, he next knelt down so that he was facing my pubis, and began calmly undressing me. I could smell him now in front of me. The soap had removed the more pungent battle smells, but his own smell remained, perhaps from his hair which was close to my face as he worked to make me completely naked. A strong smell. A strong man.

He pulled the last fabric of my blouse and underclothes from me. Now I was naked for him. The device's footrests had to this point allowed me to hold my legs against each other, so as he ran his finger down my breasts and stomach to my pubis, he was blocked by my clenched legs from exploring inside me. He played with the pubis above my womanhood and then stood up and kissed me on the lips. I suspected it wasn't going to be long now, which was confirmed when he reached up to the other rope above my head and wrapped it around his hands. His upper arms and chest angled in next to my face and I could smell him vividly as his muscles strained to pull on the ropes.

My legs began to spread now as the footrests were separated, and I could do nothing to stop it. I could feel my womanhood being exposed more with each pull as my thighs separated. He strained with the effort, more than he expended for the ropes on my arms, because he was lifting me partly upwards. He was strong, though, and each pull on the ropes caused my body to shift, and my legs to open wider. He kept pulling. My legs spread wide open and now I knew I was fully exposed for him.

He stopped pulling and knelt back down in front of me, carefully inspecting all parts of me, opened for him. I held my breath and closed my eyes, and when I opened them he had left me unexpectedly to attend to a bag near the door. He returned holding an object I didn't recognize, something rounded and smooth, the size of a small stick but maybe of polished ivory or a bone. When he knelt down in front of me and his hands began spreading my buttocks open, and I felt the touch of this smooth bone in my anus, I understood its purpose. He pushed it part way in, where it held, then he moved behind me. This aspect of the sanal khuree's design now became apparent to me when he began kneading my buttocks with full access from behind.

I felt his strong hands working on my buttocks, squeezing and mauling them. When he opened me further, he pushed the smooth bone further in. I could feel it going deeper and deeper into my anus, and gasped when the pressure took me by surprise. Then I felt a different object, also hard but of flesh, and I knew this was his manhood pressing against my buttocks from behind. My arms and feet were bound tightly, but my hips were not, so I tried to deflect my hips and buttocks in response to this new penetration, but he reached around and above the board with his head to my neck and kissed me tenderly there, and held my waist tight. I tilted my head back as far as I could against the board to escape his reach, but it was futile.

To this point, he had not penetrated my womanhood. Making sure the bone was firmly lodged inside my anus, he swung back around in front of me. He knelt down and then with his fingers and tongue began caressing every part of me that was exposed to him below my waist. I shifted my hips hard in response to this and closed my eyes. Because my feet were firmly tied, and my legs spread wide open, I couldn't move my hips far enough to get away. If I tilted them up or to the sides, he just followed me there. When I moved too much, he held my buttocks with both of his hands and forced me to stay still. Yet he continued to touch every surface of my thighs and pubis.

Then he straightened up and met my eyes. I could feel his hands around my waist, guiding his manhood into me. He pushed against me but there was nowhere for it to go; I was too small and there was not room to fit him inside me. Tears came to my eyes and I moaned, yet I felt additional pressure. He would not relent.

He pulled off then, looking me deeply in my eyes. A finger cleared a tear, and he kissed. Then I felt a different sensation below, his manhood exploring the parts of me near my sex but not pushing into it. My breath was ragged as I recovered, and kissed him back. For a moment I thought he would stop, that he also could see that this wouldn't work. He was too large for me.

But he gripped my face with both hands and I felt again that pressure down below of his manhood against my sex. This time he did not pause and I moaned again as I blocked him. Who was I to stand against this man, this battle-tested warrior for whom even our village men could not repulse. I was only a woman, tied to a board for him, and there was no hope that I could refuse his ambitions to be inside me.

His tongue entered my mouth and explored roughly while his hands went tightly around my neck, not choking me but securing me. I was his possession, and he continued to push against me. I felt something break inside me, it was an ache deep down, and it allowed him to push further in. I struggled with the pain, but then in a flash of emotion I wanted him. I wanted this warrior to take me, to own me completely. I moaned loudly as he pushed all the way inside me, once, twice, then again and again. He seemed to go further each time.

Then I felt a spasm from his flesh inside me. He shook, both his body and his manhood, and I had the feeling of being filled. His entire body tensed and he held me tightly, then kissed me again more softly on the lips and cheek as the tension slackened. He pulled away from me, kneading my buttocks, and moved his head down to kiss me on my sex. I closed my eyes and felt sensations that I had never felt before.

Then he left me and turned to his wash basin. When he returned he brandished a knife, and I had a momentary panic before I learned that its purpose was merely to cut the cords binding my hands and feet. He went behind the machine and with some movements lowered the ropes. Having been mounted on this board for some time, I was weak and fell forward into his strong arms; he was ready for this and I wondered how many sanal khurees he had performed. I was carried to the bed where he lay me gently down and kneeled to caress my arm.

All of his fire and passion faded quickly to tenderness, and fatigue. I could see that in his eyes as he crawled up into my embrace, facing back to the room, pushing his back against me. My hands ran over his shoulders and I embraced him. I could not help it, it was a natural motion that I could not resist.

My emotions at this point were jumbled. I knew this man was my enemy, and I knew he had fought against people that were close to me today, and he had taken my womanhood roughly just moments ago. Yet he was also a beautiful man and a man in pain, and he was naked, and my man in my bed. The smooth bone was still lodged in my anus and it reminded me of the feelings deep in my pubis moments ago.

One hand went down to touch myself, to explore, and the other went to his brow. He was fast asleep. If I wanted to fetch the knife and exact my revenge I had the chance to make an attempt. But instead I simply ran my hand across his hairline, while I rubbed my sex. I thought back to his embrace of me, holding me tight, when I was bound for him, helpless. Yes, I am yours, I thought, take me, come inside me and fill me.

It was then that I felt something I had never experienced before, it was a release, a spasm of pleasure that vibrated up from my pubis up my spine to my neck and head. I felt it run all through my arms to my fingers and back down to my legs. I let out a breath and sagged down around him, into him.

Did he start a child inside me? I knew then that he had. While I lay quietly in that bed next to my warrior, a vision came to me, of a boy, a teenager, sitting confidently on a large battle horse, and two children behind him. Sisters? He was at a point in the trail that looked out to the plains, but his attention was focused eagerly the other direction, down below to the valley of which his mother had often spoken. Break point. He had returned from the north to lead men, to unite them. He would be a great leader, not just of the Northland people, but our people as well, and I would train him with lessons from my own life.

I gazed at this man curled up next to me, in my arms. For all of his power and vigor, his face now had peace like that of a sleeping baby. My fingers traced up and down his body slowly, very gently, examining his many scars. I shook my head and didn't know what to think of my own emotions, but from that moment on, with this man beside me, I knew that I would survive, and live for many more days. And so would my son.