Chapter seven is complete. Boosted a bit of Azrael's point of view.
Azrael woke before dawn. She lay on her side with Midia cuddled in her protective embrace, a blonde head tucked under her chin. It would be an easy thing to drift back to sleep, to await her slave’s early morning chores, to slake the desire that invariably curled in her belly when Midia returned to the blankets. Such was not an option, however. Azrael and her entourage had an appointment at the slaver’s block. The best deals were had at an early hour, and her prisoners were considered prime material.
She took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of of her body slave, an aroma that spoke of familiarity, pleasure, and home. From where she lounged, she could see the pallet Ursula slept on in the dimness. That one had cried herself to sleep. Azrael had a good idea why. Ursula’s levels of sexual frustration must be reaching an all time high; Azrael’s certainly were. When her new acquisition had retreated from what she so obviously desired, it was all Azrael could do to not take her hard and fast. It had taken great restraint to pull back and dismiss the beauty.
As usual, Midia knew her mistress’ heart well, and attempted to ease the disappointment. The slave had been as enjoyable as ever, even resorting to a bit of play as she pretended to be another. Azrael was rather glad that Midia was with her on this campaign. Vincenza would have no doubt been livid with jealousy at a new slave to compete with. Midia, on the other hand, had years of experience with Azrael and knew how to best serve her.
Memories of the night before flickered across her inner vision as she stared at the pallet, noting feminine curves beneath the thin blanket. Amber colored eyes, hooded with obvious lust as they regarded Azrael’s body; the expression of yearning on Ursula’s face as she knelt at her mistress’ feet; flushed skin and the scent of arousal.
Unbidden, Azrael caressed Midia’s skin, remembering the sensation of Ursula’s flesh beneath her fingers. She licked her lips, wishing Midia was the one on the pallet and Ursula in her bed. It was regrettable, this waiting, but necessary. Her hand continued to roam as she reminded herself of that fact. In her experience, breaking a body slave was unsavory. She preferred slaves and free women who enjoyed her attentions; rape and the subsequent shattering of a woman made her useless, either too grief-stricken or bitter to revel in the physical sensations bestowed upon humans by the gods.
Hopefully this will show Azrael's reasons for not being totally vicious and crude. She has a reputation, you see, and I've got to work to show the reader it's not everything.
Of course, that doesn't mean anything if the reader doesn't like the way Azrael views slavery. It's a fact of life in her time and place, and can't be helped. I know I'll throw off some readers because of it.
Them's the breaks.