Thread: streetlight swag

Compared to the giant before her, Naila felt small. She felt more than vulnerable, especially when her barren state was taken into account. The man did not answer either of her inquiries and Naila understood, to each their own. To be truthful, she was subtly amazed that he did not take over Kosans doing once the slave lord was killed. Naila wasnt ugly, nor was she fat like some of the other women on board. If she were a man, Naila was sure she would have taken the opportunity to get her dick wet. Though, appreciation sprouted from the fact that he hadnt touched her when he had the chance. He was surely different than most men. Standing along the wall, she kept quiet, watching as another male entered the room, blocking her chance to flee. He had updated her savior, after eying her for a moment, on the happenings upstairs. The other slaves were thinking about running the ship themselves? That was the genius thinking of stupid women in its finest state. What were they thinking? Just as the man had said, they would be killed as soon as they happened upon another ship. Naila was not going to subject herself to that type of torture. Plus, if this mans crew were to take everything off of their ship, what would the women be left with? They would simply resort to feasting upon each other once the sun was hot enough. The dress was laid before her, on the bed, and she took it gladly. As her body had already been exposed to the likes of Kosan, Naila was quick to remove the blanket and exchange the cover with her dress. Pulling her hair free from beneath the fabric, she shook her head and simply looked at the dead body on the floor. They are not my sisters. I have been aboard this ship for merely a week, Righting her gaze, Naila licked her lips and stepped towards the men. I would be grateful for the chance to go to land aboard your vessel. Even if they were not destined for Miribar, she was sure there would be someone that would take her there. ---- Troen was sure that Samosa would cave once he offered to give her pleasure instead. But, before he knew it, she had him pressed to the wall like some foul-mouthed whore. Rolling his eyes at her threat and licking, Troen threw up his hands in a sort of surrender. This was not over, of course, but he was growing more and more tired by the minute. Forgive me, my love. But, I do hope you remember those words when the time comes around that you do wish for me to touch you. Narrowing his eyes, he stalked away from the women and carefully removed his tunic around his bandaged and slung arm. They were, hopefully, going to be married for quite some time, and Troen took a new oath to not touch his fianc until she begged it of him. But, knowing her and even her culture, the fact that she must ask for something was not to come easy. Come to bed, He cooed, going around to his side of the mattress, the covers pulled back in preparation for his slumber. I promise I will not touch you, I will even sleep near the edge of the bed, Troen promised, patting her side with his good hand. The thoughts in his heads were that of sex and fucking, but he did not want Samosa to take her anger out on his dick. There had been too many close calls in the past. Laying his head upon the pillow, he arranged the blankets over his nearly nude body, save for undergarments covering his genitals. Tell me something about yourself. He requested, addressing her from his place on the bed. If we are to marry, though you do not wish it, I must know something about Miribars future queen. What is your home like? Troen was careful to tread lightly on the subject of family, if not avoiding it completely. She was already a tough egg to crack and he wished not to make her hate him more for taking her away from her people. At that rate, Troen would never have any heirs to rule his country when he was gone.