Line her up with the rest of the women

As your men bring the chained occupants of the house into the garden you sort them into the two groups. About eight of the captives are attractive ****/serving girls who docily allow themselves to be lead by their captors. The Lord of the house must like pretty young slaves because none look older than twenty-five, and all were unusually attractive. Two other women in their thirties were not so submissive, you can see one has a bright red bruise on her left cheek, and both are jerking at their capture chains in a futile attempt to free their hands. Judging by their struggles and better quality dresses, these captives are free women; they will learn. There are only four males in the entire group, one was over fifty and had a food stained apron wrapped around his ample belly, the gardener, and the other two looked more like girls than men. Marcus should be happy. You guess that any males who could fight were drafted into the defense of the city. It takes about five minutes for all your men to return.

You spend that time separating the prisoners into the two groups and securing each group by running a chain through their chained arms. Placing the noblewoman against the wall behind the chain you do not even bother to bind her, you are sure that she will soon be selected. She says nothing but you can see the hope in her eyes as more and more women are lined up against the wall and her daughter is not among them. When nearly all of your men have returned and are inspecting the waiting captives you say:

“We have one more bead to string on this chain.” The mother lets out a soft sob and the two other free women start clucking like poultry in protest as you step to where the virgin is kneeling by her brother. Grabbing a handful of hair you lift her to her feet and walk her back to the others. She struggles against you, but your mind is made up.

After a lifetime of having to be humble to others who were made your superiors by accident of birth, following their orders without question, and being snubbed by your fellow junior officers because of your illegitimate beginnings, the feel of absolute power and control you have over this household is intoxicating. How better to exercise this control than by taking this beauty as completely as you know how. You will break her; forcing her again and again until her moans of pain turn to pleasure and her struggling body moves with you in rhythm to your thrusts. By the time you are done with her she will be nothing more than another fuck-**** ready to be sold to the highest bidder. You admire her toned legs as she steps over the sagging chain to the wall. Turning her so she faces your men you lift the chain to her hands and close her fingers around the links.

“Don’t let go.” You tell her and are pleased to see that she does as she is told. Moving down the line of captives you stop by each and pull their tunics off their shoulders and let them hang around their waists. The noblewoman’s breasts are large, full and still very firm despite her age and having had two children, she must have had a nursemaid you think. You enjoy the look of hopelessness you see in the eyes of the captives as they are bared for inspection, especially in the daughter’s eyes as she stands clutching the chain to her smooth belly as her nipples harden under the observation of a man for the first time.

Her breasts are not nearly as large as her mother’s, but they are full and round and stand with the firmness of youth. Most of the others have nearly perfect tits of varying sizes, even the free women your men found. Stepping back with your men you admire the view. Twelve women and two male slaves stand chained, awaiting their fate. All are fine specimens, some are looking away but others are meeting the eyes of your men boldly. You walk down the line one final time touching a woman occasionally as you evaluate them but for you the choice is clear and as you stop in front of the daughter your men cheer and laugh.

“Go for it Captain!” one of the men yells “ Show her what she has been missing.” Your men at least respect you and your leadership, they could serve under far worse captains. The chain drops down as her hands release their grip. She half heartedly resists you as you lead her from the group, but reluctantly allows herself to be led to a smooth grassy spot under an orange tree about twenty feet from where your men are making their choices.

“Can’t you at least take me inside where no one will see this?” She asks.