Take what is yours

"Girl."

She bows again and begins, "Yours to..."

"Disrobe." It was a command, a gentle one, but nevertheless a command all the same.

Coreas watched for any defiance, and saw nothing more than a slight nervous hesitation. Her small hands delicately unclasped the dress from the back of her collar, undoing the tie, the loose material seemed to slacken in the front. The commander remained reserved. Their eyes met momentarily, and there was more than just a flicker of shame as the girl undid the front. Her dress fluttered to the floor soundlessly, and bare she stood as a slight cool breeze moved throughout the atrium. While Coreas simply lowered himself a bit more into the warm bath, the girl crossed her arms at her waist, not wanting to displease her master, and her legs bowed in against each other for warmth. As her nipples began to harden, so did the master.

He waited a few more moments, the cool night's air causing the skinny young thing to shiver ever so slightly. Her eyes still affixed to the floor. A few more sips of the strong wine, a glance up at the stars. Without breaking his concentration on the constellations, the very imprints of the gods, he called out again, "Into the bath, girl."

She obeyed, edging over to the water, she put a toe into the steaming pool, and though realizing it was incredibly hot, made her way in as quickly as possible without so much as creating a wake to disturb her owner. The **** looked at Coreas for a moment for a further command, as she stood their waist deep in the middle of the large circular pool. He took her in once more, admiring the small, dark colored areola that so nearly matched her skin tone. She had the bony hips of a teenager, and was relatively flat-chested. Growing thin black hair covered hair parts, Coreas had strict instructions for the grooming of his **** girls, he was never fond of too much hair. On teenagers, such as this desert beauty in front of him, it wasn't always quite necessary. As the heat and steam began to relax the girl a bit, Coreas motioned her closer. She took a few steps. Still not close enough to touch.

"Closer." A bit more iron in the command, but still gentle. More gentle than was due a ****, realistically.

She obliged. Two more steps and she was at his feet. He could feel her nervousness now, though she did the best to maintain as much servile dignity as she could muster. For that he gave her credit. It peaked his interest even more, as he now had suspicions about her virginity. Slaves were expensive. Attractive females were more so. Nubile exotic virgins? A small fortune. Coreas would have to thank his household procurer later.

"Submerge yourself in the water."

She hesitated, looking confused, and asked "What is 'submej', master?"

Ah, of course, foreign, Coreas thought. "Watch." He dunked his head under the water for a moment, and then came up. "Like that."

The **** did as commanded, pausing for a moment, and then up again. Her owner admired her as she came to stand again, wet hair now partially covering her breasts. She moved a strand of hair out of her eyes, conscientious of how her master's gaze was quickly shifting from curious to carnal. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, steam rising from her shoulders into the cool night air. Coreas wanted to see her nipples stiffen again, and he couldn't help but smile when another breeze sped up the process for him.

"Sit next to me. Down. Here." He wanted her next to him on the submerged bench that encircled the pool, and he raised an arm out of the water to indicate as such. The **** moved forward, turned and lowered herself down. He brought one army over her shoulder, and smiled has she tensed underneath his touch. His free hand gripped the neck of the wine bottle, and he took several long, measured gulps. What was more of an aphrodisiac than wine? He passed the bottle to the girl, she looked at him confused.

"Drink, it is good for you." Not entirely sure, but given the long night she was in for it was the least he could do.

She took the bottle and had a modest swig, too modest by his standards.

"Driiiiiiink girl. Drink." Her second attempt was better, she got a few gulps down this time, before returning the bottle. Coreas set that aside. It was strong wine, fortified, it already had fortified Coreas' member.

He let her question his motives as he continued admiring the stars, Darchus, god of the feasts was in season. Not his favorite deity, but still a month of eating and parties was better than the month of Quarua with all that infernal singing. Without so much as averting his concentration skyward, he began running through the girl's hair, moving it off to her other shoulder to expose her neck on his side. She seemed to sit there amicably. After a moment of this, he turned his gaze back to the mortal realm. He found her staring downward, perhaps either resigned or locked up. That would not do.

"What is your name, girl?"

"I am called A'mia of the Dezuit." That had some explanation built into it. The Dezuit are a semi-nomadic people on the south coast, about 1,500 leagues across the sea. They were once pre-eminent on the dunes, and the nearby petty kings and city-states paid them tributes to keep them from raiding their territory. Among the Arderni it was commonly thought that that people had become to comfortable in accepting tribute instead of fighting, and after a few generations it had made them weak and ****. They have been losing battles, fear, and territory in that order for some thirty years. Perhaps an endangered people.

"Who took you?" A common question to a ****, some were born to it, some such as A'mia were clearly from afar. Her demeanor, though appropriate, showed that the former was unlikely.

"Pale men on a green ship." Voorks! She was a virgin, unless she had lost it before the raid. In no uncertain terms, Voorks were as professional it came as **** raiders. Though they were also known as unscrupulous merchants as well. Green ships gave it away, Voorkish ships used wood native to their home island, tree trunks and the same color as their leaves. Only Voorks were known to sail green ships, or colored ships at all for that matter. They had strange mating customs, and bedding (or ****) foreigners was seen in their culture as sacrilegious.

The two of them locked eyes again, this time the **** girl did not break her gaze. He took her in, an equal look of resolute defiance and fear in her eyes despite outward obedience. With one hand Corea abruptly grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head, and arched her neck so she looked at him directly. He did this forcefully, but not to cause any paint. With his other hand he grabbed her by the neck, again assertively and aggressively, but without malice. Still, that same mixed look. Perhaps a bit more fear. Coreas bent down and kissed her roughly, her response was unenthusiastic, effectively allowing it and moving her mouth accordingly, but not returning anything. He pulled away, saw the challenge in her eye, and kissed her again more fiercely, the hand on her neck moving down to massage a tiny breast.

The commander held her hair back and moved his kissing to her exposed neck, hand now mauling at her breast. A'mia began trying to remain at an austere position, to _seem_ compliant but it was becoming harder. Either the resistance or the fear would win out. Or perhaps something else?