The white-haired beauty

Considering your options, you allow your gaze to wander across the eight beautiful women, all of which seem suitably eager to please you in any way. You note however, that their reactions to having your eyes feast upon are slightly different.

While the two sisters in red and gold tunics both seem pleased by your interest, and the big-chested blonde meets your gaze with a brazen one of her own when she spots how you pause to admire her ample chest, and the lithesome teen although one of the youngest of the slaves is openly teasing you as she runs her hands over her slender figure. The woman in silk veils is more reserved, her great dark eyes follow your every move, but when you look in her direction, they immediately fall to the floor only to peek up at you the second your attention wanders. Is she shy, you wonder what lies beneath the silk curtains or this this a game of seduction that she is playing at? The white-haired beauty never once meets your eyes, not even when you stroke her exotic hair.

"What's your name?" You ask but she doesn't answer, just shakes her head without meeting your gaze. In spite of the color of her hair that was as white as your grandmother's the woman looks no older than twenty with perfect skin so fair that you can almost see through it. The mother of pearl sequins that sparkle from the tight bodice of her dress have the same luminescent glow; unlike the other slaves whose clothing is blatantly erotic in how little of their charms it covers. This dress has a high neckline and a long skirt that covers most of her legs but the way it hugs her slender waist and bares her alabaster shoulders makes you want to see more.

"She doesn't speak any of our tongues." The woman wearing the veils speaks for the first time; her voice is slightly accented but as sweet and comforting as honeyed wine. "Only Adrastos can understand her." Her dark eyes find yours and after the slightest pause she speaks again.

"My Lord, I can please you in ways that she, or any of the others, cannot." Her voice is low and sensual, and it sends a tremor through you like a musician plucking a string. The woman is pretty, with dusky skin and dark curly hair visible under the headdress with the dangling silver and gold coins. She doesn't have the remarkable hourglass shape of the blonde, but she is decidedly feminine. Not just her round tits or curvy hips and ass, but every part of her body is smooth and round. Her shoulders and thighs have a softness to them and her belly, completely uncovered except for a sparkle of a diamond dangling from her navel, curves gracefully under the silks that cover her hips and loins. She is certainly one of the most attractive women you've ever seen, but so are all the other women in this room.

As if reading your mind, she continues. "I have been raised from birth to please men. My mother and her mother before her served in the harems of the desert sultans, their secrets are mine as well." Her words give you a moment of hesitation, but you are still interested in this woman with snow-white skin.

"Who is she?"

You had planned on taking one of the Nubian women who had touched you so boldly in Drax's room, or perhaps the slender teen whose firm body was barely covered by the thin layer of skintight leather, but this exotic white-haired woman had captured your interest.

"Adrastos claims she is a child of Atlantis, stolen from her island home by Hermes himself who fell in love with her beauty." You can sense the skepticism in her voice as she continues what sounds like a well-rehearsed spiel. "A virgin princess with the blood of sea-nymphs flowing through her veins." The last bit sounds even less believable than the earlier part about Atlantis. An untouched princess from a lost civilization? Even with her exotic white skin and crystal eyes, you too wonder about how much of this you can believe.

"Do you believe any of that?" The almond-eyed beauty seems a little surprised that you want her opinion.