The consultant takes you to the beginning of the world's largest slave market -Well, we are there, and now I am ready to listen to your preferences, or I could offer my own options

You see many maid girls here, in various outfits and conditions. Some are eager to please their potential buyers, while others try to look as unattractive as possible, not wanting to end up with a harsh master. The consultant discreetly signals one of them over, telling her that you might be interested. She blushes deeply before approaching your table and curtsying politely. "Hello, kind sir," she whispers softly, her eyes cast down demurely. "What type of maid are you looking for?"

The consultant signals to the maid girl standing nearby, who looks about 18 years old with dark hair and pointed ears. She's an elf, which adds a touch of exoticism and rarity to her appearance. Her features are soft and delicate, contrasting sharply against her chains.

"This one would be perfect for you, sir," the consultant says with a knowing smile. "A young, fertile elf maid in her prime." He nods at the girl, who swallows nervously before looking up at you pleadingly with big, teary eyes.

You nod your approval and pay the agreed amount to the slave trader. The consultant hands you a tiny key, saying "Here's her collar release. It only works for you." Once the transaction is complete, the elf maid quietly gasps in relief as she thinks she has just found a kind master. Her chains clatter to the ground as they are released.

With a grateful smile, she bends down on one knee before you and whispers softly, "Thank you...my new master."

As you lead the elf maid through the bustling slave market, she glances around nervously, her hand clutching at the hem of your cloak for reassurance. She keeps her head down most of the time, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might appear threatening. Her long, silken hair spills over her slender shoulders and shimmers in the faint light as it brushes against her bare skin.

Finally, you reach your car, a sleek black sports model that she has never seen before. As you open the door for her, the girl hesitates briefly before slowly climbing inside. The interior is lavishly decorated with plush carpeting and rich leather seats. She sits down on one of them timidly, nervously twisting her hands together in her lap.

She swallows hard, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, before she manages to squeak out a reply. "My...my name is Lyra." Her voice is soft and shaky, barely audible above the murmur of the traffic outside.