You have no intention of selling yourself as a whore and, frankly, this elf's haughty attitude is beginning to anger you. You're not accustomed to men turning you down. A part of you wants to just walk away, but you know you need the aid you can only get in the city.
When the conversation moved to bribes, the elf stepped round the corner of the guardhouse, cutting you off from the view of the crowd on the bridge. You wrack your brains for a way to persuade him to accept a more suitable bargain. From what you have heard of elves (and have seen in those entering the city), their women tend to slender, willowy forms, and you doubt there's an elf in the city who can match your bust. Furthermore, although they could be as lusty as humans in private, elves tended to be more demure in public.
With these in mind, you look the elf in the eye and open your blouse. The pale skin you reveal stands in sharp contrast to the dirt on the rest of your body, and you feel a thrill realising that any one of the many travellers along the road or the other guards could peer round the guardhouse and see you.
The elf makes no response, but his eyes are drawn to your fine breasts. Hoping no woman has ever been this brazen to him before, and that he is aroused underneath his armour.
In unspoken answer to his complaints about your appearance, you look around and locate a bucket of water no doubt laid out for the guards' horses. Turning your back to the guard, you up-end it over you.
You almost cry out at the shocking cold. Looking down through dripping locks of hair, you notice that your nipples can be seen, pink and hard from the cold, through the wet cloth that has fallen across them. The water has washed away the worst of the mud, and set the fabric of your dress clinging to your body. You are sure that the elf is getting a fine view of your ass as you bend over to put the bucket down, and hope he is taking in your curves.
You turn back to the elf. Despite your display, there's no blush of arousal touching his cheeks, but the elves are a pale race. You reach down to his crotch and hook your fingers round the edge of the metal plate that guards it.
He stares at you, without changing his cold expression, for long enough that you begin to worry. If your display isn't sufficient, or worse has offended him, you'll have to go back to the busy road with your whole body on display. Even if he is pleased with your offer, you feel a (not entirely unpleasant) shiver at the thought of what this cruel elf will do to you. And of course, there's nothing stopping him having his way with you and then refusing you entrance.
After what seems like hours, the elf finally responds. |