It was 1007 A.D. and Mahmud of Ghazni was preparing to raid Hindustan once again. Hindustan, which the British with their inability to curl their occidental tongues around alien consonants, and their arrogance as makers of history, would later rename India.

And Christopher Columbus would set sail looking for it and rename Native Americans – Indians.

But back to Mahmud.

His forays were well planned. Crossing over the mountains as the winter snow melted, he would return to Afghanistan before the monsoon made it impossible to ford the rivers that made Hindustan so fertile and wealthy. His strategy was simple – attack, conquer, plunder and then move on. Not for him the administrative and political quagmire of ruling these Hindus. That would be left for the Mughals and the British to do. Pretending to superimpose law and order over anarchy, the British would prove to be the biggest plunderers. They would systematically denude the region of its wealth for two hundred years and leave behind as their legacy a political and bureaucratic mess that would ensure future generations remained ensnared in poverty.

But back to Mahmud.

On his first incursion he had met severe resistance from a disciplined force led by a powerful king. He had been able to subdue the king's forces with better tactics and the sheer ruthlessness of his men. On the next expedition he had met with even more resistance from the son of the now dead king. This time around Mahmud was on the verge of defeat. The tide of battle and the course of history were changed when the king's elephant for no clear reason bolted from the battlefield. The king's men thinking that their leader was fleeing had capitulated easily.

On subsequent incursions he had been able to run rampant at will through a series of kingdoms with little or no resistance. He had now pillaged most of the kingdoms in the area of Hindustan called the Punjab. Kashmir had been impossible to subjugate and he had given up after a few attempts; besides who cared, there was enough booty to be had elsewhere! He had left behind puppet rulers with the specific task of raising revenues for him. On this expedition he was looking forward to collecting their tribute before moving on to plundering other kingdoms.

It never ceased to amaze him how quickly these Hindus accumulated wealth. No matter how many times he ransacked their kingdoms, they always seemed as rich the next time. Ready to be plucked like ripe mangoes!

Ordinary citizens appeared to be well off and some of their houses were worth looting. Even more rewarding was sacking the houses of rich merchants and landlords. But by far the greatest treasure-troves were palaces and temples. Here the accumulation of wealth was at times mind boggling. He remembered one kingdom where the king would weigh himself in gold on his birthday and put that gold away in the palace treasury and when Mahmud raided it he found gold bars stacked to the ceiling! And as to the temples, he remembered a particular one with breathtakingly exquisite life size statues of gods and goddesses with multiple limbs. These statues were made of precious metals and heavily encrusted with diamonds, rubies and sapphires. Being a True Believer, he could not allow these symbols of idol worship to exist. He had the gems carefully removed and the metals melted into bars. And of course he had to take the whole lot back with him to Afghanistan for safe keeping.

But it was not just the loot that brought him back. It was sex as well. Yes, sex and material wealth. The oldest and most dependable motivating forces to make the male Homo sapiens get off his butt and do stuff.

To Mahmud, sex was not synonymous with r a p e. He was a fighter and a lover. To him it was disgusting. Taking a woman by force, against her will, was to him an act of cowardice. It was an admission that the perpetrator lacked the skills and the confidence to woo a woman and then fuck her with her full consent, to ecstasy and beyond.

Some of the best sex could be found in Hindu temples. There were women here, called Devdasis or servants of God. Their sole purpose ostensibly was to serve God in whatever capacity. In some kingdoms this included servicing the priests and the wealthy and powerful people of that area under the pretext of 'healing' them.

He had experienced the 'healing' touch of these sensuous creatures on many an occasion. These women knew how to screw the life out of you - all three orifices, all night, over and over again in numerous positions and various techniques. Two of them in one night could leave you so depleted that for days afterwards you had an idiotic smile on your face and looked at all women as sisters, mothers and daughters, not as sex objects.

But that was not all. He had learned that not all married Hindu women were paragons of virtue. True, they gave you the impression that they would rather die than commit adultery. But with a little bit of charm and lots of assurance of secrecy he had been able to get quite a few of them to open their legs for him.

In particular he remembered this ultra conservative long legged dusky Hindu woman from his last incursion. She was an aristocratic, haughty ice princess, with a lissome figure, chiseled features, and delightful light brown eyes. She was married to the prime minister of the kingdom he had just moved into. He had sensed the seething passions that lay underneath the frosty exterior of this long legged beauty. And while his men raided the kingdom he had gradually worked on her. It took time but when that woman finally succumbed it was worth the wait and then some. He remembered one memorable night by the end of which he was almost sapped of all his strength. He, Mahmud, the great lover, had almost been bested by this woman. She had taken him up her cunt and anus over and over again in various positions, some so outrageous that he had never been able to duplicate with anyone else. Between rectal and vaginal invasions and some times mid way through she would take him in her mouth and let her cultured tongue pamper his cock. Oh, what a night!

The memories of that encounter had his sizable penis erect as he rode his trusty steed through the Khyber Pass beyond which lay the plains of Hindustan. But he did not even touch his penis. Masturbating while riding a horse was too close to having sex with animals, which he thought was an abomination. In fact he never masturbated. He never needed to.

While he was home in Ghazni his wife kept him occupied. She was of royal lineage - the daughter of the King of Persia, given to Mahmud to keep him out of Persia. She was an absolute raving beauty. Her doe like enchanting blue eyes, petite frame, soft voice and winsome personality kept him from even looking at other women while he was in Ghazni.

Mahmud could have taken a number of wives and an even greater number of concubines. But he was a practical man and knew that having too many women around could lead to palace intrigue and unnecessary complications and unhappiness. Then there was the question of succession. He and his Persian princess had produced one son and that was that, as far as he was concerned. The boy was now seven years old and already being groomed to become a king.

When Mahmud needed more women he went off and ravished kingdoms in Hindustan or visited a Central Asian neighbor. There he had women of the royal court offering themselves to him, both because their potentates wanted to keep Mahmud off their kingdoms and also because he had worked his charms on them on previous visits.

And what of his Persian princess, was she the doe eyed pristine paragon of virtue he thought she was? Indeed not; she had a sexual appetite even more, if it was possible, than his. She had just learnt to hide it artfully.

The Persian youngster who at this moment stood naked before her was testament to that. His slender form was in stark contrast to the monster that stood out proudly from his loins. How could a small and beautiful fellow pack such a huge weapon? He stood with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face, and waited. She shuffled forward on the velvety smooth bed and engulfed the bulbous end of his penis with her mouth. Gradually she worked her mouth down the shaft licking its underside with her tongue, till his pubic hair brushed up against her lips. She looked up at him with a smile of accomplishment in her eyes. It was remarkable how easily she was able to swallow his entire prick. It was not just that she had experience – she had been able to do it at their very first encounter.

He moved his hands off his hips and caressed her silken fair hair as she continued to stroke the underside of his cock with her tongue. She braced herself for what she knew was coming next.

He suddenly grabbed her head with both hands and started brutally moving it back and forth on his cock. She began moaning but kept on working on the underside of his prick with her tongue as his rising excitement quickly built up the tempo of his thrusts. Abruptly, with a prolonged cry he came. She swallowed as much as she could but there was just too much stuff today and it leaked out onto her chin and chest. He stooped down and holding her hands made her scoop up all the goop into her mouth and then made her lick her fingers clean. He then stuck his still erect cock back in her mouth.

She sucked on his cock with vigor till it was back to being rock hard. Roughly, he moved her face off his cock and flung her on the large bed. He lifted up her loose skirt and since in anticipation she had not worn undergarments, her hairy cunt was exposed. Without much ado he mounted her. "It has been a long time princess, a very long time." As he sank his prick into her warm and wet cunt, "Tonight I will make you my whore again. Poor Sultan Mahmud thinks you are an angel. Does he know who you really are?" He lowered his face and kissed her on her lips and then insinuated his tongue into her mouth and as she entwined hers with his, he began thrusting it in and out in time with his cock thrusts.