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Chapter 8 by jw_wjw jw_wjw

Is Isa taken south, or east? Do the Pechenegs have any more fun with her beforehand?

South (Muslim branch)

"I guess we'll take her south," Kuchug decided, "we're tight on funds and the Byzantines are in demand for fine women like she."

"But she's Christian," Metiga informed him, "they won't accept her as a ****."

"Well, they don't know that aside from her cross..." Kuchug walked over to Isa, ripped her necklace off, and stuck the long end of the cross into her pussy, making her gasp a little, "for all they know, she's ruddy and one of us."

"Well, now that the Varangians are subdued we ought to disperse. I'll take the prisoners."

"Very well," Kuchug decreed, "set off under the cover of darkness."

To that, Metiga rounded up Isa and the two prisoners. They were two men who were as collared, cuffed, and naked as Isa. Much to Isa's delight, one of them was Magnus, and the two smiled at each other as they were loaded onto the boat.

Despite the two's best efforts, Metiga made sure that nothing happened between the lovebirds. By the time day broke, the boat had crossed the Black Sea and entered into Constantinople, and Magnus and Isa gave each other one last longing look as the girl and man were separated and brought to different **** markets.

Isa stood in the rising Mediterranean sun, waiting patiently as **** purchasers from all walks of life brushed past her. She feared what seemed to be her inevitable fate, no matter who would end up buying her, and felt both the cross still sticking out of her tight pussy and the sun baking her pale skin and almost starting to burn it.

Soon enough she saw a tan-skinned man with a dark-brown closely-shaven beard catching sight of her and eyeing her nude body up and down with a grin. He flagged down the slavemonger and offered to pay extra for her, for a grand total of 320 ducats.

"My love," he started to serenade Isa in Greek as he led her down the city streets with his arm crossing the small of her back as his hand rubbed one of her wide hips, "by Allah you are more beautiful than even the Circassians. Come, we must give you dignity and make you ready," his hand moved off her hip and grabbed tufts of her public hair, "but first we need to clean you up."

How is Isa cleaned and made ready?

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