Chapter 249
Chapter 249
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 249
Chapter Title: Alfheim's Elves 249? Alfheim's Fairies #9
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I’ve never been good with people.
In front of girls my age—excluding my little sister or mom—my body would stiffen up, my mind would go blank, and nonsense would spill out of my mouth.
Even girls who approached me out of curiosity about my height or build would lose interest after a few exchanges and turn away.
Probably because I wasn’t good at keeping a conversation going.
Son, you went off to college, but no girlfriend?
Nope.
Your mom gave you such a fine frame. Other boys bring their girls home for dinner with Mom. Bring one over. I’ll treat you to beef for lunch.
No, really, there isn’t one.
Why not? You little punk, you must take after your dad, fumbling around girls.
No, he’s just spineless. Why drag me into this? Back in my day, plenty of girls liked me.
Oh yeah? Then why didn’t you meet them?
No, no, that’s not the point.
Whenever it escalated into an argument about whose fault my lack of guts was, Mom and Dad would end up fighting.
Anyway, my timid nature was enough to leave even my parents speechless, so there wasn’t much I could do about it.
Thinking back to the first time I ever touched a woman’s leg, my heart still pounds like crazy even now.
Elfride, who wore short dolphin pants in her private room at the inn or dorm.
Her pale, outstretched legs sprawled on the bed and her slender fingers flipping through books felt alien to me, even setting aside that she was an elf from some exotic race.
She probably had me massage her shoulders because she didn’t like her hired slave just lounging around in a room doing nothing.
Don’t just sit there—do something. Fan me or rub my shoulders.
So I started with her shoulders, and since she seemed to like it, I moved down her arms, eventually giving her legs a natural rubdown.
Nobody in the world turns down a free massage, so it was only natural. Shoulder rubs lead to wanting a back massage face-down.
Back rubs lead to waist rubs. Waist rubs lead to wanting thighs, calves, even feet worked on—that’s just human nature.
But a woman’s legs, though.
Thanks to the curse of Medusa that the state-certified slave trader had inflicted on me, my sexual function was utterly wrecked.
The first time my hands touched a woman’s smooth thighs, calves, delicate ankles, and soles, I got so excited I half-thought the curse might lift right then.
Of course, the curse didn’t actually break, but it was that shocking an experience for me.
Even now, closing my eyes brings back the temperature of that cramped inn room and the cool feel of Elfride’s skin, etched into my senses like a vivid badge or scar.
And that sharp memory was flashing back in my mind right now.
What my hands gripped was Elfride’s right ankle.
So slender it barely filled one hand, the kind only women have. I always wonder how she gets around so easily with ankles this thin.
That’s why the load on her feet is so heavy, making her soles fatigue easily, throwing off her whole body’s balance, impairing circulation to her extremities, and causing all sorts of bodily troubles.
Functionally speaking, anyway—purely aesthetically, to me, it’s perfection.
Below that ankle: pointed toes, soft fleshy soles like inner skin, and prominent heels.
Swish.
I lightly slid my index finger across her sole, tickling it from the dipped toe joints to the heel, like scraping a card.
Feet are sensitive to tickling.
Curious about Elfride’s reaction, I glanced up to see her staring down at me with an icy, disdainful look.
It was like she was sneering, “Do your worst, loser—I won’t flinch.”
That sparked my defiance.
But it melted away fast under her left foot roaming up and down my shin, knee, and thigh.
Even through my leather pants, her bare foot felt like it was brushing my skin directly.
Because of that, blood seemed to rush from my thighs toward my groin, following her sole’s path.
If this kept up, I’d get hard, and that would mean defeat to Elfride.
Losing to her now would shatter all the achievements I’d steadily built since gaining my freedom from slavery—like sandcastles swept away by waves.
All that’d be left was this annoying elf’s mockery.
I had to avoid that at all costs.
So I pictured Paranoy in my mind.
Mr. Hassan, that makes my share six-tenths! Now even the Count of Hell can call me that…!
I’d noticed it before, but nothing calmed my nerves like imagining Paranoy’s face.
It even eased the rush of blood to my lower half a bit.
Elfride spoke to me then.
“Your hands stopped. What, giving up already?”
She’d caught me pausing to cool off. As expected of a seasoned adventurer, she didn’t miss an opening.
But falling for her taunt would just drag me into her rhythm. Seizing the moment while my lower body settled, I grabbed both her soles with my hands.
“What’re you doing…? It’s useless, idiot.”
She said that, but I didn’t miss the faint crease between her brows.
Riding that momentum, I pushed my thumbs from her heel upward, long and slow.
My thumbs parted her sole like Moses splitting the Red Sea—at least in my mind. To her, it might’ve felt even more intense.
Because feet are miniatures of the body.
So my thumbs gliding from heel to toes were like piercing her body from bottom to top.
Squish.
With just the right pressure, sliding up—her slightly sweaty sole yielded to my fingers.
“…”
No words from Elfride’s mouth, no moans of delight like Luna or Hippolytē would let out.
Maybe it wasn’t working?
Amateurs might think that.
But I was at least a semi-pro in massage and Elfride studies.
From that angle, her mouth clamping shut after all that mocking was a green light.
“Comfy? You got awfully quiet all of a sudden.”
“…”
I taunted her to pry her mouth open, but she stayed still as a snail in its shell.
Normally she’d snap, “Don’t call me comfy!” and flare up, so she was clearly holding back on purpose.
Her left foot, though, got busier on my thigh.
Rubbing slyly at my inner thigh, toes pinching my flesh—it was comically desperate.
Mr. Hassan, the ants, the ants are eating all the potatoes…!! Unforgivable! The Border Count of Hell, that Paranoy, will drive out the invaders trespassing the yard…!!
But with Paranoy playing in my head, her foot movements were just that—foot movements.
I decided to press the attack and sink Elfride.
Nobody knew Elfride’s soles better than me. Maybe even better than she did.
Warm.
Her feet were usually ice-cold from poor circulation.
But after the warmup, they radiated cozy heat like rice cakes toasted by a fire.
Her mouth might be shut, but her body didn’t lie.
She was starting to feel good.
So after kneading and warming her soles, my hands moved to her toes.
What Elfride really liked wasn’t firm acupressure along meridians, but oily, ticklish aromatherapy rubs.
She loved light, itchy massages on her feet or body, fingertips gently scratching.
For the finishing blow, I rubbed her toes and their joints with my thumbs.
Swish, slooow swish.
“…”
Fingertips tracing like engraving, slow and soft.
Sliide, slither.
My fingers were like a snake’s flickering tongue. And snakes have always been the mortal enemies that bite women’s ankles.
I was the snake targeting this fairy’s soles.
Sliide, slither.
“Hn, ngh—.”
A tiny, scream-like sound escaped her sealed lips. But that was inevitable.
Elfride always sighed hugely or moaned in pleasure louder than anyone I’d known during massages.
She was fighting it desperately, but with her blood flowing freely now, warming her soles, this soft stimulation was impossible to endure.
Not to mention, I was leagues beyond my past self.
My blessing-enhanced dexterity could accomplish the impossible.
My strength and stamina had long surpassed mortal limits. I might even be a top-tier masseur beyond my father now.
“How’s that, comfy girl? Feels good, right? Give up already. Admit it.”
My fingers, gliding softly over her warm, squishy sole, now pressed my thumb firmly into the Yongcheon acupoint.
The miracle point said to revive even the dead if pressed right—Yongcheon.
After all that feather-light teasing, this sudden pressure must’ve been unbearable.
Squeeeze.
“Nghaaah—!”
Elfride forgot her haughty cat act and let out an embarrassingly loud scream.
Ding.
『Relieved Elfride Desmond’s status: World Tree’s Brand.』
『Karma Value +20』
『Current Karma Value +80』
A message appeared before my eyes. The World Tree’s Brand I couldn’t lift last time—gone with a sole acupoint press.
Grinning triumphantly, I said,
“How was it? Felt good, right? Admit it.”
“Hah, heh-heh, y-yeah, it felt good. Really good. I admit it.”
Right then, Elfride conceded, like admitting defeat to my massage.
Wait, she’s giving up this easily? I never expected it—felt like I’d been sucker-punched.
“So I win?”
“That’s different. I’m admitting it felt good as a massage, for recovery. Not sexually—no arousal, not even a fingernail’s worth.”
“What?”
I panicked.
I’d mixed up the categories. The goal was sexual excitement, not just a pleasant rubdown.
Touching her soles had reflexively turned into a feel-good massage. Damn, what a blunder.
“Loser.”
Elfride mocked me. Seeing her eyes curve into sharp crescent moons, I felt so wronged I could cry.
Bad comfy girl.
Hassan got duped again.
Was I doomed to lose to her like this?
To win, I had to make this comfy girl feel sexual pleasure. While I couldn’t get erect. Damn, was that even possible?
It hit me then.
This match was rigged against me from the start.
Hell, I wondered if it was even a fair contest.
To sexually arouse a woman, you inevitably have to touch erogenous zones—at least with my limited knowledge.
Without Medusa’s curse, a healthy guy like me touching those spots would make him rock-hard, pants be damned.
Even picturing Paranoy had limits.
This was all Elfride’s trap.
Damn.
As I wallowed in self-pity, her foot stroking my thigh slipped back into her slipper.
She even pulled her gripped ankle free and hid it under her long, flared skirt.
“You admit defeat to me.”
She was predicting her victory now. And yeah, if it went on like this, hers was a sure thing.
I wouldn’t be able to prove my purity.
Was I destined to keep losing to Elfride forever? No way. If I was going down anyway, might as well go all-in. With that desperate gamble, I moved my hand.
Elfride’s eyes went wide.
“W-what’re you touching, you idiot?!”