”...A fire-fighter was working on the engine outside the Station when he noticed a little girl nearby in a little red wagon with little ladders hung...off the sides and a garden hose tightly coiled in the middle. The girl was wearing a fire-fighter’s helmet. The wagon was being pulled by her dog and her cat.The fire-fighter walked over to take a closer look. ‘That sure is a nice fire truck, ‘ the fire-fighter said with admiration.‘Thanks, ‘ the girl replied. The fire fighter looked a little. It fell down along her arm, revealing her more and more. She was not wearing a corset and as I watched the fabric softly slide down, her nipple caught the tiniest seam, stopped for an instant her disgrace. Sunlight flowed through the tall windows, making her pale skin and blond hair shine alive, like deserts of diamond sand. She’d have been an angel, untainted, was it not for obsidian eyes and the ink pool that kept her hands bound together. These were the demons of Apolinne and they blazed. She had learned how to make herself very wet and she had soaked her sheets several times. She was tired of having to wash them. The towel now prevented that. Well, except when she squirted her orgasm. That was a different story.She moved her finger in circles inside her hot dripping wet cavity. One finger was always enough for her. Her vagina had learned how to adjust to the smallest hard item she could find to stick inside her pinkness. She found, when she was a teenager, she had that ability. Distant and cranky, and I worried it was more than pain and cabin fever. He’d barely spoken since we’d disembarked the ship, and I still had no explanation for the bandages he refused to remove. Larus had recommended he oil and massage the scar several times a day to help soften the scar tissue that caused him so much pain, but I knew he wasn’t doing it since the bandages never came off.It was time for what would probably be a very difficult conversation.Alistair was awake when I entered,.