The Touch She Begged For — Lily
I had unpacked my things in the tavern's little attic room and begun surrendering my body to the owner's hands only four days ago.
Just four days.
It had been less than a week since I left the sheltered forest paths of my hometown behind and took up lodging at this unfamiliar tavern on the road to the Royal Capital. A vanishingly short span of time. And yet what was I supposed to do with myself? In those scant few days, my life, the heart I had been keeping, and even this small body of mine had become a complete and hopeless tangle.
During the day I was still the same simple, good-hearted country girl I had been back home. The tavern's youngest waitress, bustling among the rough adventurers and wagon drivers bound for the Royal Capital, ferrying steaming bowls of meat stew and golden rye bread. The sort of ordinary, hardworking girl who would only blush and laugh shyly at the customers' teasing jokes, wipe spilled cold ale from the tables with a rag, and feel a deep, genuine gratitude toward Chris, the owner who looked after me so well.
But once the sun went down and the tavern's red lanterns began to wink out one by one, I became someone I could scarcely believe was myself. The day's wholesome diligence vanished without a trace, leaving only a truly wanton and pitiful girl who waited with a throat parched with want for the owner's gentle hands. That was the real me that emerged every night beneath the lamplight.
No, Lily… you have to get a hold of yourself. The owner is only helping you recover from your fatigue. He's showing you kindness because he pities you…
I clenched the silver ring on my trembling left ring finger. I tried desperately to recall Allen's youthful face — my fiancé, who had seen me off the day I left our village, his cheeks flushed as he carefully slipped the ring onto my finger.
I'm Allen's chaste fiancée. We promised each other, over and over, that once I went to the Royal Capital and saved up enough money to come home, we would have a small, simple wedding. I can't forget that sacred promise…
But the strange heat that rose like a shimmer from deep in my chest kept bleaching my fiancé's innocent face to white. The closer we drew to closing time, the more my head filled with other thoughts until I scarcely knew what to do with myself.
Even walking across the hall with a tray in my hands, my gaze kept drifting toward Chris behind the counter. Those long, firm fingers wiping a teaspoon or tidying the ledger. The ticklish sensation of those fingertips lazily tracing the thin line of my ear. And the vulgar moan I had let out when he flicked and pinched the tips of my swollen breasts under the pretext of acupressure…
Every time those afterimages lingered at my ear, my lower belly would throb and my legs would go weak. Whenever the thin hemp of my waitress uniform brushed against my nipples as I moved, a shiver would shoot straight down my spine.
Four nights of repeated Beveris oil massages seemed to have opened my body's senses in a terrifying way. Now even the ordinary friction of cloth was enough to leave me slightly wet between the legs, and the shameful memory of reaching climax alone — squeezing my own breasts in the teasing heat the owner had given me each night — made my whole body burn.
Playing the part of a good country maiden by day, then corrupting myself under the owner's hands by night. My heart wanted to burst into tears from shame and guilt, but my body, cruelly, was already craving the owner's gentle touch like mad.
Eleven o'clock at night. The noisy clamor of the first-floor hall fell silent as if it had never been, and the tavern's great front door was shut. After I finished the closing cleanup and snuffed out the first-floor candles one by one, a secretive, calm stillness quietly wrapped itself around the counter.
I swallowed, my chest tight. Clutching my engagement ring with chilled fingers, I slowly approached the counter.
By now, the owner should have been greeting me warmly with a cup of hot tea. Then he would have guided me to the chair behind the counter, spread that violet Beveris oil on his hands, and caressed the back of my neck and my breasts. My body was already prepared to receive that touch. My nipples were already stiff and aching beneath the fabric, and my lower belly was burning with impatience, waiting for the owner's hot skin to make contact.
But Chris, having finished his tidying behind the counter, was different from usual. Instead of handing me a cup of warm tea, he merely smiled kindly and lightly brushed my hair back.
"Lily. You worked hard again today, handling all those customers by yourself."
"Ah… s-sir…?"
"We've been loosening the blocked meridians with the massages these past few days, so you should be feeling much less tired today. It's nearly midnight — go on upstairs early and get some rest."
In that instant my mind went white with a crashing sound.
No massage tonight…?
Those hot, secret hands of his wouldn't touch my body…?
My heart plummeted at the unexpected declaration of denial. It felt as if the blood had drained from my fingertips, leaving them ice-cold. I knew all too well what would happen if I went up to my third-floor room like this. The teasing heat his hands had given me would keep circulating through my body, unresolved, and my lower belly would ache so madly I wouldn't be able to sleep. In the end I would spend the whole night on my bed, clutching my fiancé's ring to my chest, touching and squeezing my own breasts, shedding shameful tears.
That distant terror and that aching need paralyzed my reason. My body moved before my will could catch up.
My hand shot out.
"S-sir…!"
Without realizing it, I reached with my left hand — the one wearing the engagement ring — and clutched the hem of his sleeve tight. I regretted it instantly, but it was already too late. Startled by my sudden action, the owner stared at me with round eyes. My face burned so red I thought it might explode, and I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear, but I couldn't bring myself to loosen my grip on his sleeve. If I let go of this hand, I felt as though I would never receive that saving touch again.
"Hm? Lily, what's the matter?"
His soft, kind voice rang in my ear. Head bowed, I trembled my flushed lips and barely managed to squeeze out the words.
"I… um… sir… I don't think… I don't think all the toxins have come out yet…"
"Toxins? I thought they'd settled down nicely over the past few days. You're still feeling discomfort somewhere?"
"Y-yes…! The back of my neck is… the back of my neck is so itchy and tingly… and my chest, my chest keeps swelling up so painfully…"
Holding back the shameful tears that threatened to spill, I pulled harder on his sleeve with the hand that wore my fiancé's ring.
The moment the words left my mouth, a massive wave of shame surged up from deep in my chest. Was this really something that should come from the mouth of an innocent country girl who had treasured her chastity like her own life? Begging the owner to massage her, to caress her body, to fondle her — of her own accord. What would Allen say if he saw this? I was so vulgar, so grotesque, I couldn't stand myself.
But the instinct of a body burning for the owner's touch took even that shame and turned it into a prelude to pleasure, making my lower belly throb even harder.
The owner smiled faintly, as if put in a difficult position, then warmly wrapped his hands around mine and spoke gently.
"Oh dear. To think my good Lily was still in so much pain — how thoughtless of me. I can't very well ignore an employee's suffering. Come, sit over here."
"Ah… sir… th-thank you… thank you…"
The relief that he had accepted my request melted through my whole body. Torn between self-reproach at having manufactured an excuse to surrender myself to him, and a mad anticipation that I would finally receive that touch, I sat in the chair behind the counter, trembling like a leaf.
I was a little surprised.
To think Lily would be the one to ask for this first…
Looking down at her back as she sat in the chair, I took out the bottle of violet Beveris oil I kept stored under the counter. When I opened the stopper, a subtle, pungent fragrance spread thickly through the stillness around us. I tipped the bottle and coated the tips of my firm fingers with a moderate amount of oil. The faint sound of it spreading between my fingers whispered through the quiet tavern.
"Breathe deeply now, Lily."
Speaking in a languid voice that masqueraded as tender care, I slowly traced my oil-slicked, hot fingers up along her slender nape and the flushed line of her ear.
"Nnh…! Haa…!"
Even though the oil had merely brushed against her, Lily's soft spine shuddered as if in spasm. A mere four days. In that short time, a body perfectly trained to my touch was already losing its reason and radiating the shivers of pleasure. The country-girl innocence and the fidelity to her fiancé evaporated cleanly from her mind the moment my fingers made contact.
"Haa… sir… your hands… they're so hot…"
"That's because the pressure points at the back of your neck have opened. You're enduring it very well."
I gently rolled the thin cartilage of her ear between my knuckles, applying pressure, and breathed a languid, hot breath deep into the secret of her ear.
"Hyaaah…!"
At a single breath tickling her ear, Lily threw her chin back and let out a low moan. The stimulation that began at the nape of her neck raced down her spine and exploded toward the nipples straining taut beneath the hemp fabric — I could feel it clearly in the tremor at my fingertips.
Seizing the moment while she was panting, unable to collect herself, I lightly undid the top two buttons of her waitress uniform. In the secret darkness of the tavern, a white collarbone was revealed, and breasts swollen with arousal beneath thin undergarments. Without hesitation, I wrapped those full, soft breasts in a firm grip.
"Nnh… sir…! That's…!"
"The toxins have clumped up hard toward your chest. If I don't apply proper pressure, you won't even be able to breathe properly tomorrow morning."
The pretext was perfect. With oil-soaked fingertips, I pressed down on the swollen tips of her nipples, then flicked them up as if pinching.
A sharp jolt—
"Nnyaaang—!!"
Before she could even cover her mouth, a lewd, nasal cry rang out loudly behind the counter. A country girl who, a mere four days ago, had screamed like a startled rabbit at my touch was now throwing her hips and crying out at a single finger. Clutching the armrest of the chair as if to break it with the hand that wore her engagement ring, yet instinctively pushing her breasts up toward my hands with every press of my fingers.
She was no fiancée keeping her chastity. She was nothing more than a lewd little female, tamed by my gentle hands, begging for pleasure.
Once I confirmed she was gasping, driven to the very edge, I quietly withdrew my hands from her breasts.
"Haa… haa… s-sir…?"
At the sudden cutoff of sensation, she looked at me with unfocused eyes. Savoring that pitiful gaze that seemed to plead for more, I suddenly became aware of the stillness around the counter. The door was locked, yes, but this was still the first-floor tavern hall, where customers came and went. If a lodger from the second-floor rooms came down looking for water, or if anyone glanced behind the counter, Lily's panting, unsightly state would be fully exposed.
I couldn't very well show a toy this pleasantly trained to anyone else.
"Lily, the first floor is too open. Wouldn't you be embarrassed if a late-coming customer happened to see you?"
I lightly closed her undone top and smiled languidly.
"Huh…? Ah… sir…"
"I'll finish relieving the rest of your fatigue up in your room. Can you walk on your own?"
She bowed her head, her face flushed with shame and heat. Supporting her as she staggered on loosened legs, all but wrapping an arm around her waist, we quietly climbed the stairs toward Lily's little attic room on the third floor.
Click—
The door closed, and a secret, sealed space belonging to the two of us alone was complete. I sat her on the small, modest bed. Leaning against the headboard, Lily was already clutching her lower belly, panting, waiting for my hands.
I took out the violet oil bottle I had brought from the counter once more. The subtle scent of it filled the small room with dense saturation.
"Now then, let's continue, Lily. All the toxins and heat released from your upper body have gone down and accumulated in your thighs and pelvis. Just loosening your chest won't relieve the fatigue at its root."
"Ah…? M-my lower… body…?"
Before she could even widen her eyes in panic, I quietly lifted the hem of her skirt.
"N-no, sir…! That's…!"
In the small room sealed in darkness, Lily's white, smooth thighs were revealed. The chaste territory she had kept hidden even while carrying stew and bread to customers all day. Paying no mind to her weak protests, I generously coated my entire palm with violet oil and slowly stroked up the outer surface of her sleek thighs.
"Nnh…! Haaah…!"
The moment the oil's heat and my body temperature made contact, her lower body jerked as if in a fit.
"Stay still, Lily. This is all treatment for your health. You have to relax your body for the toxins to come out."
"But… but that's too… nnh…!"
I had no intention of keeping my fingers on the surface. I gently worked my oil-slicked fingertips into the tender flesh of her inner thighs, close to those secret folds she would never have dared touch even with her own hands, let alone anyone else's.
My fingertips reached deep along her inner thigh, precisely to the pressure point just beneath the band of her thin undergarments. When I pressed that spot firmly with my knuckles, her lower belly trembled and her entire lower body convulsed violently.
"Hyaaaaah—!! N-no…! Sir…!! That's… that's too close…!!"
Startled out of her wits, she desperately tried to pull her skirt down with the hand clutching her engagement ring. But every time I rolled and stroked the pressure points of her inner thighs, unbearable wetness gushed from between her legs, soaking her thin undergarments through.
"Haa…! Nnh…! Aaaang!"
At the shivers plunging into her lower body, Lily arched her back like a bow, buried her head in my shoulder, and panted. The sensations of a lower body she had never once permitted were being mercilessly opened beneath my hands. Without even putting my hands inside her undergarments, merely by applying pressure to her inner thighs and the boundary of her pelvis, she convulsed between her legs and moaned as if weeping.
"It's all right, Lily. The toxins are coming out nicely. Good girl…"
I offered languid praise at her ear as I secretly pressed down on her inner thighs. She was biting down on her engagement ring, shedding shameful tears, but the existence of that country-bumpkin fiancé had already vanished completely from her mind.
The shame of having begged me for a massage of her own accord. And in exchange, the mad pleasure of having even her lower body perfectly trained to my hands. I could tell from the look in her eyes. That she was collapsing completely, inwardly admitting that she could no longer live without the owner's touch.
I gently stroked her inner thighs, leisurely savoring the process of her sinking deeper, of her own will, into the secret swamp I had dug.