The insult hit home in unexpected ways, as Yamashita snarled in response. Her background was anything but cosseted, and for a moment she wanted to throw that back in Hifuki's face. Then the absurdity of her trying to argue with a woman who seemed determined to plunder her body as thoroughly as any man might, hit home as the shift was thrown over her head. Dextrous fingers, as calloused and strong as her own, pulled and squeezed at her breasts.<br/><br/>Her hips surged upwards, trying to buck Hifuki off her, gasping now with mixed exertion and shocking arousal, unable to prevent the effect of lips and tongue on hardening nipples and puckered areola. Thighs strained to push at the other woman, her body writhing and twisting slowly, half in protest and half in response to the stimulation she was unable to prevent being exacted on her helpless body. Tangled in the shift, her hands still pinned, she felt like any woman tormented in such a fashion, and yet she knew that the worst she faced at this bandit's hands was so much better than what she could have expected at the hands of others.<br/><br/>That tongue, the heat of her mouth, as unwilling as she was to be bedded in this fashion, Yamashita was horrified to realise that she was warming to it.