That would just be stupid

"Sorry my dear," You chuckle softly, "There is no doubt in my mind that with our feet on the ground that you are more than a match for me, I might try my luck besting you in the skies, but neither of us have a drake, so that really isn't an option." I flicker of emotion as you finish your jest catches your attention but before you can figure out what made the proud beauty twitch, she sneers her response.

"Am I supposed to be impressed by your wisdom?" She leans back to pull on the chain jerking you a little closer even as the links tighten around her neck. Once again you get the feeling that you are the captive, and she is the one eager to play. The slip collar loosens as easily as it tightened, and the Amazon shakes her head sadly. "Is your plan to flatter me into spreading my legs for you?" You slowly increase the tension on the chain tightening the pressure until the collar is digging into her neck. It is hard to tell for sure from this distance, but it looks like the collar has been designed to limit how tight the noose can get. You may not be able to strangle the valuable **** with the chain, but it tightens enough to restrict her breathing and to pinch the arteries bringing blood to her stubborn brain. Just when you think the Amazon will be **** to submit, she leaps forward attempting to slam her shoulder into your chest.

You may not be a muscle-bound hoplite, but that doesn't mean you have no fighting skills. You sidestep the flaxen-haired warrior's charge and trip her as she brushes by. If her hands had been free, or even if the shackles around her ankles allowed her legs full range of motion, she might have kept her balance, but this is not a fair fight and you never intended it to be. Pouncing quickly, you put your full body weight on her back and once again tighten the chain around her throat. The warrior-woman bucks and wiggles between your legs; luckily it is not unlike training a young drake and the strength of your legs and your natural balance allows you to ride this woman until she collapses under you gasping for breath.

"Now that that is over with, can we move onto the next phase of this encounter?" You ask as you loosen the slip-collar from her toned neck. As you suspected there are two modified rings that keep the collar from getting either too loose or too tight.

"Go ahead," the woman gasps, "fuck me if you dare!"

With a chuckle you pull the woman to her knees and steady her as she slowly regains her strength. "There'll be plenty of time for that later," you turn your attention to the table piled with food and drink, "I was going to offer you something to eat." You see her eyes narrow as she reconsiders your intentions. Surprise might be too strong a word, but you are definitely making her wonder what you are up to. When you roll a slice of lamb into a finger and dip it in olive oil her hunger overrides her pride, and she takes the meat from your hand without trying to bite your fingers. "That wasn't so hard." As she chews the meat, you roll another slice for yourself stuffing it in your mouth. Mixing water from a silver pitcher with a thick red wine in a matching goblet you take the time to appreciate the quality of the silver. The items and wine were no doubt looted from one of the river estates abandoned by the inhabitants as the United Armies swept towards Athenapolis.

"Do you have a name?" You ask as you offer the Amazon a thick slice of orange, and you can see the poor woman's mind whirling as she slowly chews the juicy tidbit. Judging from what you saw in the holding tent where you first saw this beauty, you doubt she's had food like this at least for the past couple days, and perhaps not since she was first captured. She clearly doesn't like telling you anything at all, but at last she decides that offering her name is an acceptable compromise.

"Miranda."

"I'm Korban." You offer before taking a gulp of the surprisingly good wine.

"Fuck you Korban, you're not my fucking friend, and you're sure as Hades are not going to be my lover." You laugh aloud, pleased by the kneeling woman's frank assessment of your chances.

"Well, you're right about that, Miranda." You offer her a sip of the wine, but she turns her face away, "I'm not your friend, and what I have in mind doesn't have much to do with love." You finish the wine in the goblet and set it back on the tray next to the silver pitcher. "More food?" The Amazon shakes her head sending her thick dark hair flowing across her caramel-colored shoulders and you decide it is time to see more of the woman. "Time to lose your tunic, Miranda." You feel her muscles tense, but unlike many captives taken from the Hellenic city-states this woman does not seem to mind having her perfect body bared before men. Miranda stays on her knees as you untie the tunic and slide it down under the chains around her waist and over her hips. The coarse material is bunched around her thighs, and you see for the first time the tuft of golden curls on her mons and the toned curves of her backside.

This woman's lithe body is perfect, smooth and supple, she could be the earthly embodiment of the goddess Athena or more likely Artemis. You wonder if the Sisters of Accor live like Artemis' elite Huntresses who roam the wilds leading troops of scantily clad trainees away from the lechery of males and teaching them to follow the man-hating ways of their divine protectress.

"Damn, that is one fine sight." You murmur as your hand strokes her thick blonde hair pushing it off her smooth shoulder. "I thought the Sisters of Accor all had dark hair, are you from the island or some other distant land?"