The more Viola posed and displayed her charms, the less interest this stranger had in anything the slaver had to whisper in his ear. He nodded along with whatever the merchant was suggesting, of course, but he was not so polite as to take his eyes off of the slave. Her command of the local language caused the slaver to raise a brow and slow to a halt, but the spell was never broken for the stranger to whom her words were little different from her silks, a soft and delicate accessory to beckon the senses to her form.<br/><br/>So he couldn't help but find himself standing over her, having drifted towards Viola slowly but surely. From the lush carpet she had a view of his own figure, a different form at each new angle. Looking up she could see a muscular stomach, a stiff and solid midsection that betrayed no sign of rolling fat despite one's initial impression of his silhouette. And somewhat more subtle but noticeable all the same was a lengthy bulge between his enormous thighs, shifting just before Viola's eyes with each step. While this close, a musky cinnamon taste wafted over her tongue even through her own perfumes and oils.<br/><br/>"How<em>can</em>this one please me- my master," started the man with his arms crossed and brow raised. He whispered something to the slaver again, but now Viola could more easily and clearly hear what they had to say. "Where did you find this creature? You know a letter of assurance is required of any slave from the port master?" he asked, hinting at some illegal channel Viola had been smuggled through. Of course, how else were her captors allowed to be so cruel and indulgent with their prize?