Maybe...

Gently, you roll the lovely black amazon-**** over on to her front. Her skin is cold and damp with sweat. The two other dark skinned women are watching you carefully but seem to be willing to trust you as you treat their companion. You examine the small red puncture wound on her satin smooth thigh, thinking again what a cruel and stupid man this Drax must be. To kill a woman this fine is a waste that you could never understand.

You can't help but admire Maluba's bottom. From the back, the tiny undergarment she wears consists only of a small tirangle of cotton at the small of her back, with a thong that runs between her glorious buttocks. Her ass cheeks are smooth, taut ovals, full yet pert, and her sleek thighs are marked only by the fatal red mark where the dart poisoned her. You lean forward, pressing your lips slowly to the mark, feeling the angry heat of the wound. Your hands slide up the outsides of her hips, then around to cup and knead her buttocks, feeling the taut muscle beneath her smooth dark skin.

"Don't you die, Maluba. You beautiful slavegirl......."