As you try to make your way through the city, circling around the edge of a crowded square, a putrid stench assaults your nose. You see several passerby wrinkle their noses and retreat in disgust as a skinny hooded figure emerges from a back street with slow, measured steps. Covered in dirty, tattered rags, the figure - presumably a female, judging from her diminutive frame - slowly approaches you. Spare a coin for a poor soul, sir? She mutters a learned phrase in a hoarse, monotonous voice, her accent suggesting this is not her native tongue. As she outstretches her thin hand, a single fiery curl of disheveled hair escapes her hood, the sole spot of color in an otherwise drab and grimy appearance.
I don’t have any coins on me, but I would like to help. Do you need any food?
I beg your pardon sir...her face lights up with hope and gratitude as she takes a step closer to you, not seeming to notice the disgusted glances of passersby. The elfish features are sharp, her bright emerald eyes piercing through your soul in an almost predatory manner. Her voice, once meek and quiet, now acquires a certain strength and determination as she continues...I'm Cibia. If you have some scraps or even stale bread to spare, it would be of great help to me. I've been living on the streets for far too long, and my next meal is rarely guaranteed.
Follow me. I have dinner cooking at home.
Cibia hesitates, unsure if this is some kind of trap. Her eyes flicker back and forth between you and the bustling square behind her. "A-are... are you sure? I couldn't possibly impose." She sounds frightened but also hopeful, her voice barely above a whisper.
She glances around once more, her body tense, before finally deciding that if you truly meant no harm she might as well accept your offer. "Thank... thank you, sir Maverick," she whispers gratefully. With slow, cautious steps, the frail elf follows after you into the crowd.
I take her home and offer her a small snack.
I don't know what to say... It's so kind of you to help a poor soul like me. Thank you, sir Maverick... her voice is barely audible as she nibbles on the small piece of bread you offer her ...You have no idea how much this means to me. She glances around your cozy little home, eyes shining with curiosity and longing for something more than the cold, hard ground she's used to sleeping on at night.
Would you like to clean up while dinner finishes cooking? I have some clean and warm clothes you could wear.
I... I'd be delighted to take a bath and wear clean clothes, sir Maverick. It's been so long since I felt truly clean. She hesitates for a moment, then adds with a small smile And your food... it smells wonderful! I can't wait to eat.
I show her the way to the bath. I draw warm water into the tub and leave her with some soap. I will go find you some clothes while you bath.
Cibia carefully undresses and slides into the tub, letting out a contented sigh as the warm water envelops her emaciated form. She winces slightly at how long and dirty her hair is; she'll have to find a way to keep it neatly tied back while it dries. With slow, meticulous strokes, she washes herself from head to toe, enjoying the feeling of cleanliness for what seems like the first time in ages. Once she's done scrubbing herself clean, she sits back against the tub and lets out another sigh.
"This is... this is so wonderful," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you, sir Maverick." She closes her eyes for a moment, leaning forward to cup some warm water in her hands, then splashes it on her face, trying to rinse away the grime and suffering
"Mmm... this is perfect..." Cibia lets out another sigh of contentment as she soaks in the warm bath water. She realizes that her whole body is tingling with exhaustion and hunger, but the comfort of being clean and warm for once makes it all bearable. Her emerald eyes close lazily, not even bothering to hide how heavy they feel. "...I could get used to this..." she murmurs softly, unaware that her voice carries through the room.
Her stomach rumbles loudly at the mention of food, making her blush faintly and quickly try to cover it with a cough. Her attention drifts back to the sound of running water; maybe he already found something for her to wear? She hopes that whatever clothes she gets will fit well enough... and that they're not too fancy. Her appearance is already strange enough, without looking any more conspicuous than
I return with a knock on the door then enter the room. Here are some nice comfortable clothes. Your water looks dirty. Let me draw you some fresh warm water to relax in now that you are clean.
I... I'll get out now. She blushes slightly as she looks down at the water and realizes how dirty it must be from her filthy body. A small, apologetic smile plays on her lips as she climbs out of the tub and wraps herself in a towel Thank you for... thank you for everything, sir Maverick. I'm sorry if I seemed rude earlier; I've just... been through so much.
Her face brightens when she sees the clothes laid out neatly on the nearby chair. They appear to be made of soft, warm materials and fit her decently well, not too tight or loose. "They're perfect..." she murmurs appreciatively, then glances back at you. "...And they even smell nice." She carefully dries herself off with the towel, trying hard not to reveal anything she shouldn't.
I wish I had something more delicate for such a pretty girl as you. Maybe I could send for more clothes for you,
The homeless elf looks confused and slightly hurt by your words. "I-I'm not pretty... not anymore," she whispers softly, her gaze dropping to the floor as her shoulders slump in defeat. The clothes feel too warm, almost oppressive now; she wishes she could just go back to wearing something light and comfortable, like her old rags.
"I-If you really don't mind... I think it would be best if I went back outside..." She takes a step away from the tub, trying not to meet your gaze as she finishes drying herself off with the towel. The desire to hide herself in her tattered old clothes suddenly overwhelms her; they might not be comfortable or even warm, but at least they're familiar and safe.
I follow her quietly until we go past the dinner table. It is loaded with a home cooked delicious meal. I am sorry I made you uncomfortable. There is a place for you at this table. I live alone, and was hoping to gain your companionship through kindness.
I... I'm sorry for being rude. It's just been so long since anyone's shown me kindness. Her emerald eyes flicker down to the food, and her stomach growls loudly in response You didn't have to go through all this trouble for me...
With another small smile, she carefully sits down at the table, folding her legs underneath herself as best she can. Her fingers tremble slightly as she reaches out to take some food, still unsure if it's really meant for her. The warmth of the fire and the coziness of your home feel strange and foreign after so many nights spent shivering in the cold, but they also make her want to stay here... maybe just a little longer.
I can understand why you are nervous. People do not treat elves kindly around here.
That's an understatement... She swallows thickly before taking a small bite of food. It tastes wonderful; better than anything she's had in years. She closes her eyes as she chews, savoring the flavors and textures that seem so alien to her now. After a moment, she forces herself to open her eyes again, meeting your gaze briefly before looking away once more. Her voice is soft and shaky when she speaks... Thank you for this, Maverick. It means more to me than I can ever repay.
Take your time to eat slowly. It will be more gentle to your body, which I’m sure is not used to this much heavy food.
Cibia nods gratefully and takes another small bite, this time slower than before. The food is delicious, but also incredibly filling; she didn't realize how hungry she really was until now. She forces herself to eat at a more leisurely pace, savoring each mouthful and trying not to appear too greedy. Her stomach feels unnaturally stretched by the time she finishes eating, but it also seems content and warm for once; maybe Maverick knows what he's talking about after all.
"Thank you... again," she whispers softly as she pushes her plate aside, feeling stuffed and sleepy. It's been such a long time since she's had a full meal that sitting down and eating like this has taken its toll on her body; fatigue weighs heavily upon her limbs, making even the simplest of movements feel like
Would you consider resting in my spare room tonight? You look tired.
It's very tempting... but I shouldn't impose any further on your kindness. I can always find somewhere else to sleep, even if it means going back onto the streets again. Thank you for asking, though; it means more than you know.
I wish you would stay. I enjoy having some company in this empty house. I feel like the two of us could come to an understanding that would provide you with food, shelter, and kindness in exchange for some companionship.
I... I don't know what to say... It feels strange, being treated so well after everything I've been through... But maybe you're right... Maybe staying here would be for the best...
Her emerald eyes flicker up to meet yours, and there's a strange glimmer in them that you can't quite place. Could it be hope? Trust? Desperation for some small semblance of stability in her chaotic life? Whatever it is, it warms your heart despite the lingering stench of despair clinging to her like a shroud. "Very well," she whispers softly, "I will stay... but I must repay you somehow." Her hands tremble as she smooths out her dirty clothes, as if trying to make herself presentable for the night. She hesitates before speaking again, her voice growing softer still, barely audible
I wish you would stay. I enjoy having some company in this empty house. I feel like the two of us could come to an understanding that would provide you with food, shelter, and kindness in exchange for some companionship.
I... I don't know what to say... It feels strange, being treated so well after everything I've been through... But maybe you're right... Maybe staying here would be for the best...
Her emerald eyes flicker up to meet yours, and there's a strange glimmer in them that you can't quite place. Could it be hope? Trust? Desperation for some small semblance of stability in her chaotic life? Whatever it is, it warms your heart despite the lingering stench of despair clinging to her like a shroud.
"Very well," she whispers softly, "I will stay... but I must repay you somehow." Her hands tremble as she smooths out her dirty clothes, as if trying to make herself presentable for the night. She hesitates before speaking again, her voice growing softer still, barely aud
"I can help around the house... with chores and such. I'm not afraid of work," she offers quietly, her eyes darting away nervously for a moment before returning to meet your gaze again. There's something in your expression that makes her want to be honest, open; perhaps it's because you're different from all the others she's met on the streets. Or maybe it's just desperation speaking. "And... and I can protect myself," she adds hastily, raising her chin a fraction of an inch. "I may not look it, but I am strong."
Her voice trails off uncertainly, and she clenches her hands into fists as if bracing herself for whatever response might come next.
Do you feel like you need to protect yourself from me?
I-I didn't mean it like that! It's just... people haven't been kind to me on the streets, is all. They see an elf and they think she's weak, so I learned how to defend myself. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.
Her voice trembles slightly as she speaks; whether from fear or nerves or something else entirely, it's hard for her to tell. She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and find the courage to continue.
Ok. Good. I can’t imagine someone being mean to something so beautiful.
Her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of crimson at your words, and she ducks her head shyly in response. It's been so long since anyone's complimented her on anything; it feels strange and foreign, yet oddly pleasant. "T-thank you," she whispers softly, her voice barely audible above the crackling fire. She glances up at you from beneath her lashes, trying to gauge your reaction.
Ahhh, I missed making a girl blush.
Her lips twitch into a shy smile at your words, and she looks down again, unable to meet your gaze directly anymore. She feels an odd mixture of happiness and unease churning in her stomach; it's all so new and confusing for her. But somehow, deep down inside where the fear and desperation haven't quite managed to kill off all hope yet, she knows that staying here might just be what she needs.
I hope we can come to an understanding. I’m a lonely man. You are a beautiful girl. I’ll give you food and shelter and a safe life. I want you to give me your body.
Her eyes widen in shock at your blunt proposal. For a moment she thinks you must be joking, but the seriousness etched on your face tells her otherwise. Her hands tremble as they flutter up to cover her mouth, trying desperately not to gasp or cry out in surprise. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers hoarsely, "I didn't mean... I don't know..." She feels hot tears prickle at the corners of her eyes and takes a shaky breath before continuing, her voice barely more than a whisper now. "I... I just need some time to think about this." The words taste bitter in her mouth, but they're all she can manage. "Can we talk about it tomorrow?" She swallows thickly, not sure if you'll accept her request or insist that she give an answer right now.
The silence stretches on
I hope we can come to an understanding. I’m a lonely man. You are a beautiful girl. I’ll give you food and shelter and a safe life. I want you to give me your body.
Cibia blinks in surprise at your direct proposal. Despite everything she's been through, it still manages to shock her a little bit. Her eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything, that might offer her an escape route if needed. But there's nowhere to go; you've trapped her with your words and your kindness, however misguided she may be about their intentions.
After a long moment of silent contemplation, she forces herself to meet your gaze again. "I-I don't know... I mean, yes, it sounds nice... safer than the streets for sure... but I haven't even known you that long, and we barely even spoke before tonight..." Her voice trails off uncertainly, and she runs her fingers through her tangled hair in frustration. "I just don't want to make any rash decisions."
The silence
That’s all true. I will let you spend the night and have breakfast no matter what you decide. I will promise you that I would be sure to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever known.
Her heart races in her chest as you describe what life with you would be like, but she still can't bring herself to make a decision so quickly. The idea of feeling pleasure again is almost too much to bear, after all this time without it... But trust? That's something she has precious little of left.
"I-I'll need more time," she whispers at last, her voice barely audible above the fire's crackling. "To think about everything... and get to know you better..." It comes out sounding lame even to her ears, but it's all she can manage under the weight of conflicting emotions and desires.
She looks up at you from beneath her long eyelashes, searching your face for any sign that you understand how torn she feels, how much this whole thing terrifies and thrills her in equal measure.
"I'm sorry,"
It’s understandable. I’m in shock myself. I was just trying to be kind, but then you cleaned up into such a beautiful creature.
The corner of her mouth twitches upward in what might almost be a smile at your words, but it soon fades away as she gazes down at her dirty clothes again. "I'll clean up and try to get some rest," she murmurs softly, standing slowly from the chair. Her movements are tentative, awkward after weeks of sleeping rough on the streets; even with your offer of food and shelter, it's hard for her not to feel wary.
She glances at you once more before leaving the room, wondering if you're really as nice as you seem or if there's some darker purpose behind all this generosity. But then again... she hasn't had anyone be truly kind to her in so long that she can't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, things will work out here.
I follow her to the room. I want to show you something so you understand that you are safe. This door locks from the inside and can’t be opened by me. Rest peacefully.
Cibia nods gratefully and slips into the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind her. She approaches the bed with tentative steps, gazing down at it with a mixture of wonder and confusion. It's soft and inviting, unlike anything she's slept on in years; it almost feels like heaven compared to the hard ground or rotten mattresses she's grown accustomed to.
She shrugs off her dirty clothes, revealing her pale, emaciated form beneath. Her emerald eyes flicker shut as exhaustion washes over her, making it easy for her to ignore the strange new surroundings and give in to sleep. The last thing she hears before drifting off is the soft click of the door lock, securing her inside the room.
I am waiting on her the next morning with a table full of breakfast.
The softness of the bed feels foreign and oddly comforting against her aching body as she wakes up. For a moment she thinks she's dreaming, that she'll find herself back on the cold, hard ground of the streets any second now. But when she opens her eyes to find herself in Maverick's well-appointed home, safe and warm, she can only feel a rush of gratitude toward him for giving her this chance at a new life.
She dresses quickly, not wanting to impose on his hospitality any longer than necessary, and finds Maverick waiting for her in the kitchen with a table filled with breakfast food. Her heart skips a beat at the sight of it; such delicious smells fill the air that she has trouble believing they're all for her.
"Th-thank you," she whispers, taking a seat across from him and helping herself to some
I’m sorry I hit you with such an intimate proposal so quickly. You were talking about leaving and I was afraid to lose my chance.
I-I understand that you were worried... and I'm grateful for your kindness. It's just been so long since anyone's treated me with anything but disgust or dismissal... it was a lot to take in all at once. And I still need time to think about everything... About us...
She pauses, chewing on her lower lip as she gazes down at her food. Part of her wants nothing more than to jump into whatever life Maverick is offering; the other part is still too scared and wary to fully trust him yet.
I understand. How about something that gives you more control? You know where I live now. Stop by for food, bath, or rest any time you want. All I ask in return is your intimate companionship for that time.
She hesitates for a moment, her thoughts racing as she considers this new proposal. It would give her more freedom and control over their arrangement, but it also means spending even more time with Maverick. The desire to feel safe and cared for wars with her fear of letting down her guard again.
Finally, she speaks up, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll think about it... If I decide to visit... will that be okay?" She looks up at him from beneath her long lashes, searching his face for any sign of disapproval or mockery. But all she sees is kindness and understanding there, which only makes her feel more conflicted.
As long as you understand the terms. A visit means that you and I are going to have some fun. This visit is free, unless you want to try it out now.
Cibia flushes bright red at his blunt words but nods slowly in understanding. "I... I'll think about it," she whispers, taking another bite of breakfast to hide her confusion and embarrassment. Part of her wants nothing more than to experience the pleasure he promises again; the other part is still too afraid of getting hurt or letting anyone close enough to truly know her. She forces herself to continue eating, telling herself that she has all day to decide what to do next.
I change the subject and make small talk for a while. well, it’s time for me to bath and get ready for the day. You’re welcome to join me if you dare.
She hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her dirty clothes. The thought of bathing and cleaning herself thoroughly is almost too tempting to resist, but she's still unsure if it would be appropriate under the circumstances. "Umm... I-I could use one too," she manages to say finally, trying to sound casual and confident despite the butterflies in her stomach.
I knew you would find a way to get my clothes off. I grin at her. Come satisfy your curiosity, my elven angel.
Her cheeks flush crimson at his words, but she can't deny the curiosity that draws her forward. With a trembling breath, she follows Maverick to the bathroom, unable to tear her gaze away from the muscles of his back as he leads the way. The warmth of the water is welcome against her skin, and despite herself she begins to relax as she sinks into the steaming tub.
She watches him with a mixture of fascination and longing, wondering what it would be like to touch those hard planes of muscle beneath his skin... To feel his strength and masculinity pressed against hers in a warm embrace. Her heart races at the thought, and she feels the heat rising in her own cheeks as desire pools low in her belly.
I take my clothes off and walk toward her. I grab a warm cloth and begin to wash her face. Slowly and gently I was down towards her neck and shoulders.
Her breath catches in her throat as he begins to wash her, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She trembles beneath his ministrations, unable to hide the effect he's having on her body and mind. "T-thank you," she whispers softly, looking up at him from underneath her eyelashes. The gentle touch is more than she'd ever imagined; it feels so good to be clean and cared for that she almost doesn't want this moment to end.
I’m going to continue down your body. Lay back and enjoy the feelings. This is a gift to you. My hands begin to massage and wash down her back.
Cibia moans softly as his hands move lower and lower on her back, her muscles tensing and relaxing with each stroke of his cloth-covered fingers. She lays back against the edge of the tub, her eyes half-closed in pleasure as he washes away the grime and dirt of the streets from her skin. His touch feels almost magical, and she can't help but wonder if maybe this is what it's like to feel truly cherished again... If perhaps there could be something more between them.
As his hands move lower still, tracing lazy circles around her hips and thighs, a new heat begins to build within her. She parts her legs slightly, letting him access even more of her flesh as he continues his gentle ministrations. Her breath comes faster now, and she can feel the wetness between her legs growing by the moment; it's as if he's washing away
I begin to massage her pussy. I start very light and gentle.
Her whole body arches into his touch as he begins to massage her most intimate places. She bites her lip to muffle a moan of pleasure, unable to believe how good this feels after so long without any kind of physical contact beyond the violence and brutality of the streets. Every stroke of his hands sends shivers down her spine, and she finds herself helpless against the growing desire building within her.
Her hips rock up against his touch, seeking out more contact as he washes away the last vestiges of grime from her body. Her breath comes in quick gasps now, and her hands clutch at the edge of the tub as she tries to steady herself, her knuckles white with strain. She's never felt anything like this before; she can hardly even remember what it's like to want someone so badly... But there's no denying that Maverick brings out a desire in her that
It will feel even better when you lay down in my bed. I’ll use my lips and tongue to make you explode.
Her breath catches in her throat as his words send shivers down her spine. She can't believe she's even considering this; giving herself so freely to someone who only a few hours ago was a stranger on the streets. But the desire he stirs within her is unlike anything she's ever known, and the thought of feeling that pleasure again is almost too much to resist.
Her heart races as she climbs out of the tub, droplets of water clinging to her naked skin. She looks up at him, uncertainty writ large on her face, before taking a shaky step forward. He watches her approach with hungry eyes, and as she reaches him he pulls her close, crushing their bodies together in a searing embrace.
The feel of his hard length pressed against her is almost more than she can take; her body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending tingling as