Resistance

A brutal trek into the low stone hills to the east.  The monster was relentless...if she faltered or fell he just dragged her by her hair until the pain revived her energies to stumble farther along.  Her feet were cut and bleeding from unforgiving stone.  Finally, as the sun moved down in the sky, he stopped.  Her legs, weak from the rough march, trembled and she sank to her knees desperate for this rest.  He steppped in front of her,  the enormous bulging of his loincloth all too obvious.

Sania prayed to every God she knew.

None of them knew her.

It was a trivial motion for him to throw the loincloth aside.  Her face suddenly buried against his groin.  His cock was huge and misshapen as he was.  Already erect with a thick, viscous, malodorous, yellow-green fluid pulsing from the tip.

He smelled of blood and sweat and disease as he forced her face against his engorged sex.

She prayed to every God she knew.

None of them knew her.