Stall for time by examining your choices

Moving a little closer to the chained women puts some space between you and the frightning captain. He had been toying with a chestnut haired woman, the elegant styling of her hair and the careful application of her makeup identified her as a woman of wealth. The remains of her tunic hanging from her belt was made of a much finer material than any you had ever hoped to wear. The woman's breasts were large and they wiggled and bounced as her breaths rose and fell rapidly.

"The rat's going to take your pick Captain!" Yelled one of the men and the others in the squad laughed. The words reminded you that you were in a very dangerous position, making the captain angry is not a good idea. The next girl that catches your attention is much younger, probably not quite twenty years old yet. Her clothing has been torn completely away and you can see angry red bruises on her pale wrist where it crosses her bosom partially covering her rose tipped breasts. Her capture you realize must have been brutally swift. One minute she must have been sitting anxiously with her friends and less than a minute later stripped naked and dragged into the street her thin wrist clamped in the grasp of one of these brutes. If you were gentle you could spare her the worst of what was to come.

Next to the naked girl is a short plump woman. Her hair is dark brown and falls loosely over her face. As you step in front of her she flips her head back and looks at you boldly. You can see where a single tear marked a trail though the dust on her cheek, but she is no longer crying and she seems to be assessing you just as much as you are evaluating. Her full curves are barely covered by a lacy undergarment that accentuates her large breasts and conceals the curves of her belly and hips ending near the top of her round thighs. Her eyes scan your emaciated form covered by the same tunic that you've worn for the past month. The hemp rope belted tightly around your waist makes it plain to see how little food you've had to eat on your quest. You hear more laughter from the men behind you comparing her ample curves to your whipcord frame. These men, you realize are enjoying seeing the proud women of Athenapolis being offered to a ragged **** for his pleasure. They seem to be in no hurry to rush you, the longer you can make the selection process the better the chances that these women can be rescued.

As you move down the line the plump woman exchanges a glance with the two women at her sides, the blonde with the bruised wrist and a tall redhead who stands nearly a full head higher than her shorter friend. The tall woman looks only slightly older than you, and to your surprise she offers a timid smile as you stand before her. Unlike the first three women you've examined, this one is still wearing all her clothes, including a headscarf that holds her red locks away from her face.

Trying to move slowly and gently you use your left hand to pull the headscarf off her head. Free from the scarf her curls fell over her shoulders and brush softly against her cheeks. A whistle from one of the men showed their appreciation of this hair and her eyes widen in fear like a rabbit's will when it spots a fox.

You thought that removing the scarf would stretch the time even more and do little to add to this woman's shame. For some reason, removing her scarf felt as intimate as slipping the last bit clothing from her tall body. Despite your best intentions, the combined effect of seeing so many naked and barely clad women waiting for you to chose from has your manhood noticeably tenting the bottom of your tunic. You glance around at the men guarding you and these prisoners hoping to see a way out of the situation. The captain, perhaps misinterpreting your look, offers you encouragement.

"Go ahead, take some more off." Whenever he speaks, you find it difficult to disregard his words. That is probably why he is an officer, but you wish you could spare this young woman. Turning back to her face your dark brown eyes search her sad green ones for any sign that she understands you are not like these men. Hers eyes are alive with energy as you look deeply into them but you are unable to determine if she understands you are trying to stall for time or if she will hate you for what you are about to do.

Wiping the few remaining drops of blood on your badly nicked sword, you return the blade to the makeshift sheath by your side. You had been embarrassed by the sheath you had constructed from a shingle and old grain sac that you found discarded by the road, but the odd appearance of the sheath may have saved your life. Thinking back to when you were first captured, you surely would have lost your weapon had it been hanging from a standard leather sheath. The bundle of rags by your side had caused you to be underestimated and allowed you a chance to live. Now in order to stay alive you will have to become a part of the very thing you are fighting against; you will have to camouflage your real purpose beneath a bundle of ragged behavior.

The redhead's tunic is gathered together around her thin waist by a bow of green ribbon that matches her eyes perfectly. Drawing the ends of the ribbon with your trembling hands you begin to unwrap this gift like the master's daughter might unwrap a box bought from this very city. In part you are horrified that you are the means of this woman's humiliation, but you realize that any one of these other raiders would be pulling her tunic from her body if you refused. As you part the tunic and slide the material off her shoulders, the woman lowers her eyes and bites gently on her lower lip. Her nervousness is charming and you wish you were a real hero that had just rescued her from this fate instead of a filthy **** who was being used to humiliate her. The tunic slides to her elbows exposing her breasts to the eyes of all who were watching.

"Too small!" you hear one of the men comment, but you think they look perfect. They are smaller than Eudora's breasts, but they would easily fill your hands as they stand proudly with barely a hint of sag or stretch.

"Damn she's fine!" You hear one of the men exclaim. "Are you going to take this one boy? 'Cause if not I'm gonna have her right now."

Maybe you stall some more by investigating the rest of the women, or would that be pushing your luck? If you had to choose one of these ladies would you pick the naked blonde, the curvy brunette or this tall redhead? Maybe you should even choose the large breasted noblewoman that the captain was so taken with and see how he would take that.