Her body was thrown against the earth.
Slick with sweat and peppered with dirt, she rested in the dirt.
Her lungs began to work again, bringing sweet cool air down her dry throat.
She licked her cracked lips and, tasting dirt, leaned to her right and spat.
Sweat was pooling on her back, she could feel. The gentle breeze around the open plains was cool.
She had no time to dwell long on it though, he was heading towards her, not missing a beat.
With one swift dart he lunged at her, grabbing her neck.
The man spoke to her in an ancient tongue as she gasped, robbed of the cool air.
His other hand tore at her feet singlet, tearing it off and revealing her plain black bra underneath.
She struggled, kicking her legs, but the man, dressed in a light grey uniform she couldn’t recognise, forced himself upon her.
His full weight now on her, her chest felt tight.
The man spoke again, his voice guttural and raw.
His free hand moved down to her dark brown corduroy pants, his fingers slipping underneath the waistband and dragging them down.
She felt the earth in her dark hair, she felt the gentle breeze start to hit her thighs.
Kicking did nothing. He tore her pants off relentlessly, revealing her plain black panties, the ones with the cute little black bow she had picked just this morning.
Throwing her pants aside, the man’s free hand returned to her chest and it was only a matter of strength for him to pull it off.
She felt like her back was going to explode before the man grunted in annoyance, speaking again as he forcibly rolled her to her side to unclasp the bra.
Dizzy from the fall, and from the choking, she forgot to scream until her small breasts were bare, catching the breeze.
He silenced her with his free hand across her face before she could emit a single sound.
She didn’t give up though. As his free hand traveled back down her body, she squirmed beneath him, fighting to urge to gag from the smell of sweat off his body.
The man shouted something roughly, his throat crackling.
The tangle that was her black panties came off as he lifted her ass, now bare, up to free them off her legs.
She swore at him all the way.
When she was fully nude, he stood up slowly, uttering something quietly.
For a moment he watched her, panting and swearing and sweating and nude, her clothes strewn around her.
When she stood up, she felt young. Humiliated. Vaguely ashamed. This was not the way she was taught.
He spoke once more and laughed. It was a bitter laugh. Vaguely sympathetic.
As he turned to leave, she swung at him, letting loose a string of curses.
He simply backhanded her, leaving her reeling, leaving her feeling something she couldn’t quite make out.
After she dressed and made her way back to the edges of town, it came to her – the last thing he said before he disappeared, as if he were an illusion.
Now you are reduced to nothing.
On some nights it was a nightmare, on other nights she clawed at her clitoris, moaning in both relief and frustration, frustration at what everything meant and why.
But no meaning came.