Saturday, August 11, 2012

Ielle dances for Kyr...

Step into the Realm of Janos... Have you met Ielle? This is from her first meeting with Kyr. She is naked before the whole village, she's been inspected and found acceptable. Now she is to dance for him, the man that will own her.


Kyr settled himself into the furs on the dais. His men sat cross-legged near him to watch. The handmaidens retreated, their job done for the day. The Oblate and scribe stepped back to the distant corner, able to see and record the fulfillment of the contract, yet out of the way. Ielle stepped forward and waited for the drum beat to begin.

Now she would dance for him. Kyr considered her as she prepared to begin the next phase of the ceremony. She had that beautiful long dark hair, nearly to her waist. It was soft and silky when he ran his hands through it. Her skin was pale and creamy with deep blue eyes like the mountains of their homeland. Her lips were soft and dusty pink, her nipples were firm and responsive to his touch.

Her spark is what really caught his attention though. There were many girls that were beautiful. He preferred a girl that was smart, loyal, confident. If she was as beautiful as this one, so much the better.

He knew she was meant for him as soon as he saw her making her way to the dais. It hit his heart like a bolt from the sky. He had not known it would feel thus. He thought he might know when he saw her, might know during the judging, but he also thought he would need to consider and reflect. It was not so.

The judging only confirmed it. The way she held herself intrigued him. Nervous surely. Trying hard not to let anyone know it. Strong. She would match him. She submitted to him, but she retained her spirit. She was proud, but she did not hold herself above others.

The drummer stepped up, standing behind Kyr and his men. Ielle settled her hands on her naked hips, looking directly at Kyr. He watched her take a moment and then a smoldering look came to her eyes, seducing him, brimming with passion yet to be unleashed. He caught his breath but quickly contained himself. It would not do to let others know how she affected him already.

She pointed her foot, stretching it out languidly in front of her, bending her other knee, crouching low, raising her hands over her head, entwining the fingers and bowing before him. She pushed up on her left leg then drew her right leg back until she stood tall, bringing her hands down, running them seductively over the soft skin of breasts and torso. He clenched his fingers remembering their feel. She moved exactly with the sound of the drum when she rose on tip toe and twirled before him, one complete circle causing her long, dark hair to spin out around her.

She stopped, staring him down, challenging him. Her look was pure lust even though he knew she could have no real idea yet of what that might feel like. She stepped closer to him, dropping to one knee and extending the other leg, hovering with her foot nearly touching him. He could feel the warmth of her, even though they did not connect.

She bent over, caressing her hands from her toes up her calf and over her thigh, skimming past her stomach as she arched her back away from him. She whipped herself forward, bending double again before rising to her feet and taking a step to spin away from him.

The sound of the drum followed her movements, building in intensity, mirroring his own heart beat. Ielle stood before him, circling her hands gracefully in front of her body. She sank slowly to her knees, legs not quite closed, a glimpse of her lower lips teasing him. His blood pumped hard and he reminded himself to exercise restraint.

She reached her hand out then trailed it into his hair, caressing his temple before abruptly pulling back. By the gods, her touch was magical. It brought a punch of heat straight to his groin.

She rested both hands on the dais and pushed herself to her toes, rear end high in the air, head down, hair trailing. She undulated as she straightened.

He watched her breasts and the way they bounced and shuddered. He could not wait to taste them, lick his tongue over them, press them and tease them until she was insane under him. Once again she twirled, but this time moved the extra half turn to display her rear. She bent to touch her toes.

He was breathing hard. He could see her lower lips peeking at him, the slight glistening already beginning to coat them. He pictured thrusting himself into her and shifted a bit on the furs to find a more comfortable position when his cock stirred in response. She rose and completed the spin, her hair cascading out around her. What would it be like to have that silky mass trailing over his bare skin as she rode him?

She dropped down to hands and knees, crawling slowly towards him. She arched her back bringing her rear up. She kept her eyes on his, measuring the look in them, noting his interest. Bylar was shifting uncomfortably, adjusting himself too and grinning at Kyr. Bylar knew him well.

She reached out to Kyr and ran her hand over his knee, gently circling her fingers over the cloth, trailing them up his thigh, teasing, tempting, not touching that sacred spot, but promising so much more later. He watched her fingers move, tensing his muscles so as not to give in to her yet. She brushed over his stomach then pulled away.

The drumbeat was louder now following her heat, echoing in his head. Back on her feet, she slowed, taking several beats to complete a turn while her hands stroked her breasts and belly, hips and thighs. He was breathing hard and she was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her own chest was pumping, drawing in air as she moved and teased.

She came right up to him, turning away and sinking to her hands and knees, arching her back and gyrating her ass ever so close to him. He would enjoy taking her in this position, slapping her smooth pale cheeks while he pumped into her. She dropped flat on her belly, spreading her arms and legs wide, rocking her hips against the flooring.

She rolled to her back and spread her arms and legs wide again. He smiled to himself. He would enjoy taking her in that position too. She pillowed her hands under her head before pulling her feet back until her knees bent and her lower lips spread fully open. She shifted her hips up and down, closing her eyes, rolling her head back and forth as though she was in the throes of passion. Yes, he would have her thus, screaming and begging.

The drummer beat harder and faster, growing, climbing. He could see her heat rising, radiating from her, enveloping him. He could smell her, feel her need and desire. She sat up again, cupping her breasts, offering them, her legs spread open wide, toes pointed gracefully, displayed for him. On the final beat of the drum she dropped her head submissively, giving herself to him. Her chest was heaving as she caught her breath, her skin was flushed and shining.

Reviews for Mayia...

Bad girls may not necessarily have more fun--but they're definitely more fun to read about. I'd guess that they're also a lot of fun to write about, if this engaging, well-crafted tale from Andre SanThomas is anything to judge by. "Mayia" is the fourth installment in SanThomas' superb Realm of Janos series, and very probably the best of the lot so far, combining elements of classic High Fantasy saga and heart-stopping heist-caper, pagan erotic romance and BDSM debauch.

As noted in my reviews of the earlier titles in this series, I strongly recommend beginning at the beginning with "Ielle" and "Ovia" before moving on to "Eanna" and "Mayia;" the storyline is cumulative and each new tale increasingly referential to characters and events in the previous books. The goings on in "Mayia" are closely related to the events in "Eanna;" in fact, they form part of the same story, and won't make much sense if read separately and out of sequence. However, the payoff in this exciting, decidedly high-adventure-tinged installment is well worth a foray into the pleasures of the first three.

After her failed coup attempt in "Ielle," Mayia has hit rock bottom, "discarded" by the owner she betrayed, publically humiliated in a month-long ritual of deprivation, and finally sold at auction to a brutal "rental-master." Mayia is not exactly a prostitute with a heart of gold, though gold is constantly on her mind. Unbowed in spite of her ordeals, pathologically prideful, single-mindedly ambitious, everything she does is calculated to her own advantage, premeditated in terms of escape to a higher station in life, one more suited to her unbridled delusions of grandeur and fevered dreams of revenge. Among the ranks of bad girls, Mayia is extraordinary, and it takes an extraordinarily bad boy to recognize her unique gifts and bring her into her own.

[It would not be possible to reveal too much more about the story without dropping a spoiler. Suffice to say it's not a good idea to annoy the Council of Oblates; those old fellows can be decidedly vindictive and amazingly creative when it comes to devising new forms of sexual torture.]

One of the real joys of this series over time has been to observe the author's growing maturity and command of her craft. The writing is lovely, facile and increasingly more direct. Having established the rules by which her imagined realm is governed, SanThomas has begun to play with the possibilities within those boundaries, and the results are wonderfully entertaining. Where, in some of her earlier books, I occasionally got the sense that she was too rigidly constrained by her own pre-established conventions, often missing opportunities for drama and conflict; in "Mayia," she begins to flex her muscles as an original creative force, recognizing what great artists have always known, that infinite possibilities are found within a well-conceived set of limitations.

With "Mayia" Andre SanThomas has given her readers an unforgettable, entertaining, fast-paced character-driven story, and that is a literary feat in and of itself. Highly recommended.

Reviews for Eanna

"Eanna" is the third installment in Andre SanThomas' Realm of Janos saga, and fans of the first two books will find much to like here, both familiar and fascinatingly new. To those readers as yet uninitiated into the pleasures of this series, I would strongly recommend starting at the beginning with "Ielle" and then "Ovia" as the storyline is cumulative and each new tale increasingly referential to characters and events in the previous books. "Eanna" draws its essential backstory from "Ovia," while offering readers a deeper, more detailed picture of the customs and rituals of SanThomas' magnificently sensual fantasy-verse.

Princess Eanna holds an exalted position in the religious life of her world, Handmaiden to the Crown of Harmony, she serves the "manly needs" of the Council of Oblates. Chosen out of many for her surpassing grace, skill, discipline, centeredness--"so regal, so cool, so adored . . . so alone"--yet her bodily submission to these old men is not emotionally involved. In fact, she has been little more than a glorified scratching post--a sacred hole, as it were--and while such a position is considered the highest of hallowed honors in her world, it has not prepared her for the very different life that awaits when time comes for her to step down with the choosing of a successor

Much of the action in "Eanna" centers on two elaborate series of contests; the first to determine the new Handmaiden, the second to find a champion worthy to claim the former princess as his owned property--the normal custom of civilized people in this world. Both competitions are elaborate, highly theatrical undertakings, rigorous and demanding, reminiscent of the trials and contests so familiar from reality television, yet filtered through a very original High Fantasy lens, titillating and thought-provoking both at once.

With this installment the storytelling has become more streamlined, the language seems simpler, more stripped down and direct. In this passage, we see Eanna performing a sacred dance for a gathered assembly:

"Eanna held the crown high above her head, twirling below it, letting it capture the light and reflect off the walls. Her dress swirled around her, a glimmering soft pink sheer that billowed about her in a circle from her shoulders to her thighs. She ran gracefully across the room, then leaped into the air, legs wide apart, toes pointed sharply, the Crown held high. She landed like a feather, full of sunshine and light and sky. Eanna bent to the floor with it, bringing it ever so close but not touching the ground with it. She held it in one hand, high over her head. She twirled on one foot, the other held aloft, floating, the Crown shimmering in her hand.

The Crown rolled over her skin. She moved it behind her back, then to the front again. She set it reverently on the floor and danced around it, dropping to her knees and leaning back in a deep arch. She pulled herself up again, moving gracefully, fluidly, arms waving and fingers cupping the air. Bent double, she carefully balanced the crown at the small of her back. She clasped her hands behind her ankles, carefully turning in a full circle without causing it to fall. She took it from her back, then tossed it skywards while she twirled. Those watching gasped as it flew upwards. She sank to the floor and rolled twice before catching it just a breath from the ground. Applause broke out throughout the room. Yes, there was always applause when she did the dance. She practiced so many hours to get just the right sense of drama. She knew she executed it perfectly. She had never once dropped the Crown. She did not fail."

This is very good--but even better is the author's exploration of her heroine's inner life. For all the outward sensual wonder of this tale, Eanna seems to have been imagined from the inside out, giving us a degree of emotional truth that seldom finds its way into erotic storytelling. More difficult than the physical trials to be endured are the emotional obstacles to be overcome; the casting off of arrogance and pride; the search for her own inner light which can be kindled only when she accepts her own ordinariness; the challenge of bringing that light to her eyes, shining only for the man who will claim her.

Above all, this story is a paen to the beauty of monogamous belonging, so famously celebrated in the ancient sacred erotic texts of our own world--the "Kama Sutra," the "Ananga Ranga;" a truth, often repeated, extolling the virtues of the most accomplished lovers, adept in the art of pleasing one partner over the course of a lifetime as opposed to one who takes many partners and satisfies none; for it is in knowing and understanding one's true place that genuine satisfaction and bliss are found. Ultimately it takes more talent, wisdom and imagination to keep the fires burning high in the long-shared life of two, and "it is the superior man who can so learn his lover as to cause her nightly fainting."

This same spirit is gloriously alive in "Eanna." Highly recommended.