potential suitor. It was only later, recalling the interaction with the hindsight she used to reframe many of the strange happenings that made up the history of her life, that Crystal would come to remember the highness in his voice was not a simple tone of manners, but something deeper and more biological to the body of the man. He never told her explicitly, and she never saw between his legs to know for sure, but she suspected the man to be a noble eunuch whose manhood had been taken from him when he was younger and yet grown; yet matured into the kind of hungry and greedy thing which overcome most men of age.
He was different, and his difference had been done to him; committed like an atrocity.
He gave her no impression of wanting to enter into her and seize her, the way the rogue had – the way the seducer had suggested as he molded her body with the strange and invigorating oils he produced from the bodies of twenty strong men and women. This one was gentle. This one wanted her, but in the submissive way of a woman, embracing her body and kissing her within every inch, cleaning with the warmth of his tongue and nibbling with the soft dullness of his teeth but never showing her the hunger that she so associated with men of his age and status.
He slipped a hand into his wig, and was overcome again, this time by the fineness of the hairs which made it.
He seemed more preoccupied with using his mouth than his cock, and that was the reason why she first began to wonder if he had a cock to use at all. Many of the noble people in faraway lands often seemed shrouded in a kind of violent nature that spread stories of people being burned at the stake, ceremonial mutilations, tattoos and branding, and all sorts of horrific yet intriguing prospects that made the rest of the world seem a barbarian savageness warring about the kingdom of her family – the last vestige of civility in an uncivil world.
He was gentle, this one, and when he was finished with tasting her he smelled her, rather like a child frolicking in a garden and picking at every flowe r and bush at which he dared to glance. When he was done smelling her he felt her up, testing the weight of her muscles and her roundness and her sex. When he was done with touching her he placed his head to her breast and listened to his heartbeat, for he was a man of his senses because the strongest sense that God gave a man had been taken from him at a young age.
This was the way he knew to enjoy women.
She knew from his own exclamations of pleasure.
This suit or enjoyed her very much, oftentimes expressing that enjoyment with the kinds of soft joyous sounds that Crystal expected to hear from virgin girls but not suitors of world-weary dynasties trying to assert their dominance by marrying a jewel like her.
She found that she liked this man, although made no attempts at enjoying his body in return.
Crystal was a woman fond of strangeness.
Once he was finished with his pleasures he took to washing her, not because she was dirty to him, but because he considered the washing a kind of polishing - for she was the precious thing that people owned and sold and wore when they decided to wear something beautiful to enhance their own stature. As before, the sheer sensation of the hot warming water splashing against her flawless white body, sluicing through her crevices and hardening her nipples with the female erections of pleasure more subtle than the brutishness men could ever fathom.
When the suitor took a most delicate sponge from his belongings and began to wash her down, she nearly shrieked, such was the joy. He removed bottles of perfume and soaps, and he began to lather her, remarking on the beautiful dried tones of colors that were still on her back from the earlier massage, mistaking it for paints, or a rudimentary kind of tattooing, and Crystal laughed, an she did not make fun of the man when he seemed puzzled by her laughter and wasn't sure whether or not to be
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