The man looked at the woman kneeling between his legs. She tilted her head back and their eyes met. Then, a seductive, mischievous smile played on her lips.
She stuck out her red, wet, supple tongue, cleaning the semen from her lips with a relaxed circular motion. Her lips glistened with saliva, causing the man to pause for a moment before bending over.
With an unexpectedly gentle, protective, and almost romantic gesture, the man wrapped his right arm around the woman's limp waist. No longer grabbing her as tightly as steel, he laid her body on the bed as if she was porcelain that could break at any moment.
However, that tenderness was apparently only a brief interlude from what the man did next. He turned around and, for the third time, picked up his sword, which was still covered in blood.
The flickering flames reflected a red glow on the edge of the sword, causing Lestari to sigh in acceptance. If the man wanted to kill her, then so be it. Besides, she was dreaming, and who knows, she might wake up from her sleep after the sword sliced her neck ....
However, the sensation of the man's vital organ thrusting into Lestari's throat still lingered strongly. Perhaps because it was her first time, her feminine vitality was still pulsing strongly and sticky fluid continued to seep out, leaving wet circles on the cotton mattress.
If the man had witnessed this, he would undoubtedly have misinterpreted Lestari as a prostitute aroused by his brutal dominance, blood, and feelings ... as a victim being hunted and then held captive ....
The man rubbed his palms on the blade of the sword as if he were cleaning his heirloom from ordinary dirt. Next, he climbed onto the bed. With a slow motion, he pressed his palms onto the woman's two plump mounds, leaving red handprints that contrasted with her light yellow skin.
It was a gruesome yet artistic sign of ownership.
Then the man's fingers moved down and waved to the most perfect curve ever created by Deva to be grasped by his hand.
Calmly, the man lifted the woman's body and sat her on his lap. One of his hands tightly encircled her neck, causing her to freeze.
The man laughed lowly, while his other hand caressed the woman's back, tracing her shoulder blades and--
"Sa, rwa, telu, pat, lima, enem, pitu, walu, siya, sapuluh ...."
--counting her vertebrae all the way down to her tailbone!
Next, both of the man's hands squeezed the woman's buttocks and slapped them, making her tremble.
The man suddenly felt wetness on his fingers. Realizing the culprit, he then parted the woman's plump lower cheeks and teased her front hole from behind. He also accidentally poked her anus with his fingernails from time to time.
The man's palms were finally clean, as if the entire series of intimate touches was just a ritual to clean his palms.
The man was panting and his attention to the woman was intense, as if he was assessing a masterpiece he had painted. His dark fantasy of staining the woman with the blood of her people had come true.
Unbeknownst to the man, his iron-hard treasure had dripped white essence.
With a slightly rough push from the man, the woman's body fell backward until she was lying on her back. He leaned down, pressed his lips to her earlobe and whispered mockingly, "Rah iki dwening sahulunko. Gundik-gundikko, prajurit-prajuritko, patihko ...."
Without any stretching, the man immediately thrust his erection into the woman's still narrow lower mouth.
Lestari let out a stifled scream, sounding more like a death rattle than passion, as the man's hot penis mercilessly tore through her hymen.
The man must have seen the look of pain on Lestari's face because he pulled his penis out. Soon after, she felt something thin and sticky flowing between her thighs and a faint metallic smell entered her nostrils.
Lestari was wrong.
The man reached for his sword for the fourth time and, without warning, positioned the hilt right in front of Lestari's hole, which had just released the blood of virginity. With one powerful thrust, the wooden hilt entered.
"Ah!"
Lestari's eyes widened.
'This man is crazy, this man is crazy, this man is crazy!!!'
Lestari's sobs broke into pieces, but in the midst of her overflowing suffering, a new horror, far more terrifying, seized her consciousness. As the hilt pushed in, something snapped in her brain.
Lestari's five senses were mysteriously and simultaneously activated with excruciating sharpness.
The faint smell of iron now hit Lestari's sense of smell with great intensity. Nausea immediately rose to the top of her throat.
Lestari could feel the night breeze coming through the door that the man had knocked down, like a cold razor cutting into her skin. She could feel the rough texture of the cotton mattress beneath her back and how her cold sweat was slowly flowing. The sensation of her hymen tearing was very real and hurting.
The most important thing was--
"Nora amung sing dwening hulun-hulunko, huwus uga pedang iki angrasaken rahko."
--Lestari could fully understand the sentence that she should not have been able to understand at all.
Lestari's heart beat so fast that her chest hurt.
'How is it possible, how is it possible, how is it possible?!'
'Not only your subjects', this sword has also tasted your blood', said the man.
Lestari's heart, which had been beating fast with paralyzing fear, suddenly changed with burning anger. Those words pierced her heart deeper than the lifeless object that had been removed from her lower cavity and replaced by the man's boneless stick.
Behind those tear-filled eyes, a pure fire of vengeance was ignited.
'Rakai Baka sang Ratu Jonggrang ta ingong—Jonggrang from Baka is me ...?
Yadyan makutangong remuk kedekan and prajuritngong mati--
Even though my crown is crushed underfoot and my soldiers are dead ...?
--gong ni pinakajingong sing mangili ring rahngong tan ilang dening kaparibhawan iki--
the enormous pride that flows in my blood will not be lost by this humiliation ...?
--ingirangaken ingong lewih asor saka nghulun--
I am being degraded even lower than a servant ...?
--gagang angleboni bhagangong--
the handle penetrating my vagina ...?
--dan angregedi awakngong ing rah dwening hulun-hulunngong--
and staining my body with the blood of my subjects ...?
--dosa-dosa ikang tan inampunan arepa mangaliwati satus kahuripan ingong—sins that cannot be forgiven even if I live a hundred lifetimes ...?
Bandung Bandawasa, kudu mati ya ing tanganngong!—Bandung Bandawasa, he must die by my hand ...?