So I found a visit to the Market with him an education.
One of his sayings was never buy a pleasure slave you can't spy in the gloom of a chamber where the oil lamps are guttering and dying off.
And so that day he decided to buy this snowy white fleshed wench who would shine in the humid dark, newly captured from the Snow Lands.
|Pale flesh of this quality is hard to find in the slave markets. Her ivory hide and fine pink nipples and areola will capture a fine price|
Herod liked this one. He ordered her to place her hands behind her head. She obeyed, straining her breasts so he could inspect. They were soft but heavy, the pink nipples gorged with blood as he ran his finger nail over. And all the time her eyes didn't waver in looking into his.
She wanted servitude, an escape from the dullness of her peasant past.
Bidding was fierce when she hung from the auctioneers hook, a fine trunk of gently panting, swaying ivory flesh. When the auctioneers assistants pulled apart her legs to show her clit, she gasped and writhed not with resistance but with hardly suppressed excitement.
Later when she was branded on the rump, she turned her head to stare into Herod's eyes, willing him to press his brand deeper into her flesh. As the brand sizzled on her flesh, she closed her eyes tight and willed the pain away, making the slightest groan.
She would have a silver collar riveted around her neck and be chained in his chamber. Her task would be to serve him in his living chambers and pleasure him when and how he ordered. Her body may be passed to guests for their pleasure when ordered. But should she pleasure others without his command and be discovered, she could be punished with death on the cross or a sentence to the galleys or mines.
When he bored of how she served him, he would have her sent to the kitchens or the fields. But now he would enjoy her loins, moist cunny and ample tits for many nights.