![Pleasure Island [The Chronicles of Lidir]](https://fs.bookdaniel.net/555395/thumbs/152x264/pleasure-island-the-chronicles-of-lidir.png)
a person who spoke in ciphers. Niri was small, her body was perfectly proportioned and her skin was golden. She had unusually wide eyes, which were black. 'Niri is my favourite. It is better that she sees.'
But favourite or not, Anya could tell that Niri was being treated very cruelly. Her mouth was gagged with a broad leather band. Her arms were drawn tightly back, and fastened high above her head. Her breasts pushed out strongly. A heavy rope, wound only round the mast and not the girl, pressed into her back above her waist, forcing it to curve. Her belly arched tightly. Her knees were drawn sharply upwards and fastened, exposing the flesh between her thighs. And that flesh had been partly shaved: the outer purse was prominent and bare, but with a flare of carefully manicured short brown hair brushed back from the point of the hood, as if the pressure in her overfull purse had somehow leaked, spraying colour from the tip. As Niri tried and failed to ease the straining tension in her arms, her belly arched more tightly, her breasts moved, her belly rotated, and the purse pulsed softly. With every pulse, the sparse triangle of colour sank, then lifted sharply and appeared to spread, as if it might have sprayed.
'See how she struggles; she is jealous of these small attentions. She does not understand that we must investigate our newfound prize.' Travix's hand reached.
'No ...' Anya murmured again as the fingers moving down her cheek were now complemented by the other hand. As one set of fingers lay against the thick vein in her neck, the other set quickly forced each large brass jacket button through its eye in the wet material, then opened out the jacket. Anya could feel her heartbeat throbbing faster against the fingertips at her neck. But Travix looked only into Anya's face while she touched her breasts and nipples. 'Lift her arms,' she said. She touched the wet warm hair in Anya's underarms; then her fingers returned to touch the nipples - which were hard. And still the gaze would not release Anya, still those other fingers tasted Anya's heartbeat in her throat. Anya could have tried to struggle, as she'd done against the men; she could have cried out, spat; but she could not deny the hardness of her nipples, nor the effect of the light fingertip pressure upon the heartbeat in her throat. 'Hold her still ... Push her belly out. It must be pushed out - hard and rounded to the touch.' And now her heart was bursting. A large hand pushed flat against the base of her spine, pushing her bottom forwards, arching her belly, forcing her legs wider apart, offering her sex for those fingers now to touch while the pulse at her neck cried out the feelings that this deliciously tentative touching brought.
The fingertips teased the wet curls aside, unbound the lips; only when each individual curl was lifted, when the warm lips were completely bare, did the fingers open Anya's living flesh, spread it like a warm wet beating heart, and touch within that heartbeat. Only then was Anya permitted to close her eyes. She heard another murmur from the mast. But the fingers at her belly were unhasty. 'Black lips, black nipples ... You are beautiful, Princess.' Anya heard those words but distantly. She was trapped between the warm round pressure of the hand against her back and the fingers, slipped between her legs, moving gently in her heart. She wanted those fingertips, oiled with her body-wet, to search deeper, very gently against the pressure, while she closed her flesh around them tightly, while she squeezed them to her heart. Travix's voice came very softly, so Anya heard her faintly, above the sea sounds of the warm deck breeze that brushed across her ears:
'There ... Enjoy ... For throughout this voyage into pleasure, my Princess, your wantonness will be evoked. We shall teach you many ways. But your lust will be tempered always with longing, delicious pleasure shall be pricked with pain. Your satisfaction shall be
But favourite or not, Anya could tell that Niri was being treated very cruelly. Her mouth was gagged with a broad leather band. Her arms were drawn tightly back, and fastened high above her head. Her breasts pushed out strongly. A heavy rope, wound only round the mast and not the girl, pressed into her back above her waist, forcing it to curve. Her belly arched tightly. Her knees were drawn sharply upwards and fastened, exposing the flesh between her thighs. And that flesh had been partly shaved: the outer purse was prominent and bare, but with a flare of carefully manicured short brown hair brushed back from the point of the hood, as if the pressure in her overfull purse had somehow leaked, spraying colour from the tip. As Niri tried and failed to ease the straining tension in her arms, her belly arched more tightly, her breasts moved, her belly rotated, and the purse pulsed softly. With every pulse, the sparse triangle of colour sank, then lifted sharply and appeared to spread, as if it might have sprayed.
'See how she struggles; she is jealous of these small attentions. She does not understand that we must investigate our newfound prize.' Travix's hand reached.
'No ...' Anya murmured again as the fingers moving down her cheek were now complemented by the other hand. As one set of fingers lay against the thick vein in her neck, the other set quickly forced each large brass jacket button through its eye in the wet material, then opened out the jacket. Anya could feel her heartbeat throbbing faster against the fingertips at her neck. But Travix looked only into Anya's face while she touched her breasts and nipples. 'Lift her arms,' she said. She touched the wet warm hair in Anya's underarms; then her fingers returned to touch the nipples - which were hard. And still the gaze would not release Anya, still those other fingers tasted Anya's heartbeat in her throat. Anya could have tried to struggle, as she'd done against the men; she could have cried out, spat; but she could not deny the hardness of her nipples, nor the effect of the light fingertip pressure upon the heartbeat in her throat. 'Hold her still ... Push her belly out. It must be pushed out - hard and rounded to the touch.' And now her heart was bursting. A large hand pushed flat against the base of her spine, pushing her bottom forwards, arching her belly, forcing her legs wider apart, offering her sex for those fingers now to touch while the pulse at her neck cried out the feelings that this deliciously tentative touching brought.
The fingertips teased the wet curls aside, unbound the lips; only when each individual curl was lifted, when the warm lips were completely bare, did the fingers open Anya's living flesh, spread it like a warm wet beating heart, and touch within that heartbeat. Only then was Anya permitted to close her eyes. She heard another murmur from the mast. But the fingers at her belly were unhasty. 'Black lips, black nipples ... You are beautiful, Princess.' Anya heard those words but distantly. She was trapped between the warm round pressure of the hand against her back and the fingers, slipped between her legs, moving gently in her heart. She wanted those fingertips, oiled with her body-wet, to search deeper, very gently against the pressure, while she closed her flesh around them tightly, while she squeezed them to her heart. Travix's voice came very softly, so Anya heard her faintly, above the sea sounds of the warm deck breeze that brushed across her ears:
'There ... Enjoy ... For throughout this voyage into pleasure, my Princess, your wantonness will be evoked. We shall teach you many ways. But your lust will be tempered always with longing, delicious pleasure shall be pricked with pain. Your satisfaction shall be