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Or maybe it's the other way around?
Suddenly he looks in my direction and for one intense second our eyes meet.
Without even a glance at the other females he strides over to me, covering in three or four paces the distance it would take a normal man twenty. Despite my training I step back as he approaches both embarrassed by my nudity and terrified by his sheer presence. Alone he stands at, at least 6'5" but clad in his high crested, horse hair helmet he strikes a gigantic 6'8" or 6'9" and he towers over me, like a titan. His imposing form dominating the space in front of me. He is without doubt the most magnificent figure I have ever laid eyes upon. He muscles are lean and well defined and his physic is tight and athletic, toned by the tides of war. Had I not been naked and bound I would have been helpless before such a man, my slender form no match for a stallion of his strength.
Unlike the others that have viewed me that morning he doesn't ogle my breasts or waxed sex. His dark, intense eyes are fixed firmly on mine and despite the slave girl rules I stare back trapped like a rabbit in a torch light. I am completely captivated and I stand in awe of him.
For what seems like a life time I stare mesmerized into his deep, dreamy, brown eyes. Before I even have time to register that he has purchased me I am swept up in his arms and carried in an adrenaline fuelled daze away from the market to his encampment.
I am taken into his large, luxurious, purple tent and lain down gently on a bed of velvet and silk cushions. It's all like a dream, lying there at his knees and I melt as he unexpectedly kisses me, our lips connecting with bittersweet fervor.
Surrounded by his broad shoulders and tight, biceps I submit myself to his zealous hunger. Our tongues dance together, thrusting, tangling, searching, duelling in a battle of desire. Until after one final, long drugged kiss he leaves me to undress.
I lie back on the soft cushions and admire the show as he strips. He looks magnificent in his armor but I'm dying to see what lies beneath. Fortunately I don't have to wait long. With the skills he's honed on a thousand campaigns he sheds his bronze breast plate with ease, treating me to the smooth olive, expanse of streamlined muscle beneath. His wonderfully broad chest is quite a sight and my mind races with salacious fantasies.
His armor is immediately followed by his silk, toga skirt leaving him in only a small, tight fitting pair of white shorts. They do mouth-wateringly little to cover his hot, bronzed skin, but tease me like crazy. They sit low on his hips leaving a rope of taut v-shaped muscle where his wash board abs meet his powerful thighs, enticing my eyes towards his groin.
He can sense my anticipation and he teases me by leisurely taking his time. I lick my lips with desire and my eyes light up like stars as I watch his hands slip into the waistband of his shorts. Everything seems to move in slow motion as he slowly peels the tight white fabric from his hips. Millimeter by millimeter they slip away until they fall like an autumn leaf exposing the most impressive column in Greece. I could see through the taut material that he was fairly sizable but now I can't help but gasp as his pulsating erection bounces free before my very eyes. It stands proudly like a tall, oak throbbing and pulsing excitedly, obviously at its highest level of arousal. Perversely the knowledge that I have caused him to reach such a peak of arousal makes me grin like a Cheshire cat. In the powerless world of a slave girl this is the only strength I have and I take it as a great complement that my tender body can evoke such a reaction.
Carrying a bottle of oil he casually he strides over to me and kneels down.