CurtailedAmbrosia
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Dec 9, 2017
- Posts
- 1,291
(I am looking for this to heat up quickly and have the story play out after. Nonconsent, but -sexy- nonconsent. Afterwards, Sylvie makes great ransom material for a devious pirate. PM me with any ideas or details.)
Sylvie was nervous. A priestess to her people, she had learned the language in starts and stops from her mother, long before these pirates had showed up, asked for gold. Her father, leader of their peaceful people had sent her to talk with them, guide them to the quarry where the precious metal could be mined. In exchange, they would leave her people alone, trouble them no longer.
Sitting quietly in the rowboat as she was taken to the ship, Sylvie tried not to stare or otherwise upset the two burly pirates who had leered at her-choosing instead to take in the immense size of the ship, staring in wonder at the sails and bob of the hull.
She was smaller, her gold tanned skin soft and free of any marrings or scar, her hair a pretty honey color, the wavy locks braided down her back. Honey hazeled eyes were fringed with light gold lashes, the native's face pretty, cupid lips and large, rounded eyes.
She wore a green poncho over a tighter fitting bodice, a pair of green gachos on her legs, the flowing cuffs looking like a skirt with her legs together, the little native's hips bearing a delicate gold belt that matched the arm cuff on her right bicep. She was a sight to see, the curves hidden beneath the flowing clothing typical of her people, her sweet nature and coloring making one indeed think of honey.
A beautiful lamb being led right to the wolves.
A staff laid across her lap, one end curled into a spiral. It was taller than she was, the girl about 18 or 19, five feet tall even.
Sylvie was nervous. A priestess to her people, she had learned the language in starts and stops from her mother, long before these pirates had showed up, asked for gold. Her father, leader of their peaceful people had sent her to talk with them, guide them to the quarry where the precious metal could be mined. In exchange, they would leave her people alone, trouble them no longer.
Sitting quietly in the rowboat as she was taken to the ship, Sylvie tried not to stare or otherwise upset the two burly pirates who had leered at her-choosing instead to take in the immense size of the ship, staring in wonder at the sails and bob of the hull.
She was smaller, her gold tanned skin soft and free of any marrings or scar, her hair a pretty honey color, the wavy locks braided down her back. Honey hazeled eyes were fringed with light gold lashes, the native's face pretty, cupid lips and large, rounded eyes.
She wore a green poncho over a tighter fitting bodice, a pair of green gachos on her legs, the flowing cuffs looking like a skirt with her legs together, the little native's hips bearing a delicate gold belt that matched the arm cuff on her right bicep. She was a sight to see, the curves hidden beneath the flowing clothing typical of her people, her sweet nature and coloring making one indeed think of honey.
A beautiful lamb being led right to the wolves.
A staff laid across her lap, one end curled into a spiral. It was taller than she was, the girl about 18 or 19, five feet tall even.
