You did not love slaves. You did not love anything. Humans loved. We were rakshasas. We were predators.We feasted upon them. How could you ever love y...ur prey?But then I met Lucy. The first time I saw her crying in the slave pens, draped in rags, her body whipped and bruised, cum dribbling down her breasts and face, something kindled in my heart. She was destined for the brothels. Or to be sold as a kennel slave to pleasure gladiators and fighters. But her eyes met mine. Those soft, brown. He was wearing soft shorts and no underwear and doubledin agony as Habibah's knee squashed his testicles. She gripped him again andraised her knee. This time Paul was ready, cupping his hands over his damagedballs. Her face screwed up, however, and she smashed a heel down into his unprotectedfoot. At least two of Paul's metatarsals smashed, and he collapsed holdinghis foot and balls. Habibah ran off towards the guardhouse. She was gone fora minute when Paul's alarm bells rang telling him to get. More

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