Rival Khalasar Attacks

They marched through the grasslands like that for some time, the stone tub receding into the distance. Dany had not a scrap of clothing to conceal her modesty — if she still had any such thing — and she could feel the Bloodriders' eyes on her the whole time. She wondered what the rest of Moro's Khalasar would make of her this time, all wet and covered in suds; how loud the jeers and whistling would be. She shuddered to think of it, just as she shuddered to think what she must look like right now. There was a certain lightness to her body, now that she was cleaned up, but she wasn't sure if that was worth the handmarks on her rear-end.

They must have been halfway to camp when the Bloodriders and The Elder suddenly stopped. She held up a hand, and made a show of listening intently. "A warband," She muttered, after a few seconds. "Ours?" One of the men holding Dany asked.

"No, another Khal's."

The Bloodriders grumbled and looked at one another uneasily. One of the men holding Dany let go, and the other slung her over his shoulder, placing a hand on her tender backside to keep her in place. "What's happening?" She whispered. "Are we in danger?"

The Bloodrider's response was a gentle *whap* on her arse. She squeaked at the sting of it. He took her over to a horse and set her down next to it, then got a length of rope and tied her hands. "You...stay here," he said. "You've given me ****!" She retorted. "You can't leave me here like this!"

The Bloodrider shook his head. "Deal with them, first." With that, he turned and joined the rest of his brothers. Dany swallowed nervously. Here she was sat on her rump while danger closed in, gods, she truly hoped Moro's Bloodriders won this fight, she didn't want to contemplate the possibility of another Khalasar finding her, this time in a state of complete undress, red of face and arse. She tried to push that thought out of her mind, watching as the Bloodriders mounted their horses and began to ride out to meet what looked like shadows as they appeared on a distant hilltop.

Fifteen Minutes Later

Dany had heard the fighting as it started, distant shouts and the clash of steel on steel. Now, though? Silence. She saw no one still standing, it looked from here like everyone was dead, or at least on the ground. She inspected the rope that bound her hands — inexpertly tied — then began to strain against it, twisting her hands this way and that. After a couple minutes of working at it, the rope loosened and eventually untied completely. Dany laughed at the stroke of good fortune, then stood up.

She needed a way out of here, a means of covering a significant distance in a short span of—

The horse next to her whinnied, and all at once, an idea came to her. Soon enough, she had saddled up and was ready to go. She had even found some clothes to wear, though they were the garb of a Bloodrider, so the outfit was several sizes too large for her. The trousers she kept having to hold up with one hand, and the painted vest was, while better than nothing, somewhat unsuitable for a woman. The arm holes were huge, and her breasts, particularly her nipples, kept making unwanted appearances through them. She drew the vest tight around her chest, then heard a rustling and looked down. The trousers had fallen yet again, though the vest was so big on her it covered her arse and pussy quite well. She pulled them up and then took a bit of the rope and tied it as a belt around her waist, and that seemed to work well enough.

When she was satisfied she had a good store of supplies in the saddlebags and was suitably covered, she readied the horse and rode away from that place, leaving the seemingly dead Bloodriders and Elder in the dust.