Ink and Time (Patreon)

He had long forgotten which tattoo did what. He was tied down and screaming all throughout the parts he was conscious for, as the priests carefully injected their potions into his skin and flesh. Most of his defeated army, the ones that survived, got turned into hard labor slaves, but some were selected for propaganda, though the word didn't exist yet. To be marked as a caution for others and to make the defeat live on forever. The tattoos brought him eternal health, youth, obedience, and looks to die for. Passed down through generations as a pleasure slave, his former masters were turning into a blur in his memories. There is only so much even an immortal mind can contain, though for most of it there wasn't much to remember. Time moved slowly then, but when experienced over generations the pace of change came ever faster, both good and bad. Mostly good.

It is no longer unremarkable to have a nude concubinus in your service, which has caused many troubles, though recently it has become much easier to have a male companion quartered. Whereas household slaves used to be treated poorly, even cruelly, he became more and more a part of the family, watching their children grow up only to later claim him. It used to be frowned upon to have your skin marked. That too dramatically changed to accepted, then desired. It's even possible to remove tattoos now. Even if he could remember which one did what he was mostly content with what they had brought him.

He wouldn't mind getting rid of the one turning natural fibers to dust in minutes, preventing him from wearing any clothes over the centuries. But that was before lycra, polyester, and latex. Again, mostly good.