SEX WITH THE DEVIL
That night, as tears blurred her vision, she looked up and saw him—a figure both enigmatic and formidable. His face held a rugged, masculine allure, every feature carved with a strength that echoed the legends of fierce warriors. His long, intricately braided hair cascaded over broad shoulders, each braid reminiscent of ancient traditions from the tribe she was supposed to belong to. His body was a testament to raw power, sculpted with muscular definition, and as her gaze traveled downward, she marveled at the sheer, commanding presence of him- thick, veined, and throbbing with power. Yet, in a startling twist of nature, his legs ended not in human form but as powerful hooves, like those of a mighty goat. Though the white men labeled him the devil, in her heart she understood him as something far older—a skinwalker, an ancient creature shrouded in mystery. Ashes from the pyre that had consumed her mother still floated in the cool night air, mingling with the dry tears that traced...