This is a sequel to 'The Wedding Night of Kassandra.' You do not need to read that to enjoy this, but it helps. If you have not read it, Kassandra just has been given in marriage to a fearsome warlord and he deflowered her with little gentleness.
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Over the past week since her wedding, Kassandra's life had taken on a new structure. Every night, her new husband, the warlord, Hektor, would strip her clothes from her, force her to her hands and knees, and would use her body for his pleasure.
There was never any gentleness nor concern for her pleasure or even her comfort. He would take what he wanted from her with nor care for any pain it may have caused her.
The only saving grace was that her body was beginning to adjust to his assaults upon it. Her sex no longer felt as though she was being stabbed when he placed himself there. The pain was caused more by his roughness than any need for adjustment.
While this was typically something that would happen at night, in the privacy of their tent, there had been several times outdoors when a sudden fancy would take him, and he would drag her somewhere to have his way with her. One time, the previous day, he had not the patience to wait the minute it would take to drag her to some bushes, and he simply stripped her naked and bent her over in front of the whole tribe. She could still feel the shame and embarrassment as he pressed her down into the dirt, pounding away into her from behind, with all present to witness her degradation.
She endured as silently as she could, never making any complaint against how he used her body. Her sole source of consolation was that, outside of his taking of her during those times, he largely left her alone. She still could not speak his language, and he was yet to reveal if he actually knew hers. She honestly could not tell if he was ignorant or just had no interest in conversing with her.
She used her time to read, losing herself in stories of faraway lands that were home to good and beautiful people.
But her stories would have to wait. The sound of the outer tent flap being swept aside indicated that her husband had arrived. He was going to want her immediately. She laid herself on the mattress they shared as she waited for him. She could hear him move around in the outer tent. The waiting was the worst part. She just wished that he would come in and take her now, getting it over with as soon as possible. But while waiting, her imaginings always made it worse. She knew that it would hurt, she was used to that by now, but she always imagined it would be worse. It was childish worry, she knew that objectively, but that did not help.
She could hear the sound of heavy clothes hitting the floor and the inner tent flap opened inwards to reveal her husband. Even after a week, his sheer size still frightened her. Fully naked, his muscles and bulk were on fully display as was manhood. It was fierce and erect, pointing straight at her.
She swallowed nervously as she sat up. Other than that, she made no other sound or movement. It was best to let him lead these sessions. Resistance was futile and brutally punished with further roughness on his part.
He approached her, bringing it closer and closer to her. It was so near her face that she was sure that he would be able to feel her hot breath on it.
He stood stock still for several moments with an unreadable expression on his face. She quickly looked down at the ground so as to not create the impression of defiance.
