Moonlight leaks through the windows of a small, tidy room situated in a quiet corner of East Market Inn. Soft, silver-lined shadows sneak across its floor boards as Arienne Gluurin, granddaughter and only surviving relative of the inn's owner, Lady Aribella Gluurin, prepares herself for bed.
A sheer nightgown clings to her body like a shimmer of mist, as thin as a whisper. Like most women of Elthrea, she cares little for the traditions of modesty in a world where men had long since forgotten how to lust.
She sits at a dresser, brushing her long, auburn hair with slow, solemn, mechanical strokes, performing her nightly routines like clockwork. She moves in numb succession and almost ritual silence, the same way she always had. Day after day. Year after year.
She kneels to the Great Mother and lifts her bed covers, ready to drown in another night of dreamless sleep.
But she's interrupted by a loud knock.
"Grandmother?" she blinks.
She moves to the door with a ghostly grace, but before she could reach it, it creaks open and she's greeted by a flaming rat's nest of tangled hair worn by a sleep-drunk Vuvi, her face still creased with pillow lines and streaks of dried drool.
Behind her stands Pip, freshly oiled, polished, and humming faintly.
Vuvi greets Arienne with a sleepy wave.
"I'm," she yawns. "...sorry to intrude. You're mother… um… no… your grandmother… she made arrangements."
"Arrangements?" Arienne asks, perplexed.
"Yeeaaah." Vuvi yawns again. "This is Pi…um… The Pleasure Prince. The… Prince of Pleasure… ugh. Just talk to him. He'll help you feel… better."
Arienne scoffs, and opens her mouth to reject the offer, but before she could speak, her grandmother pokes her head into the room.
"Ari! Please, darling." the old woman says softly as she clutches the doorframe. "Just… try. Sit with him. Just for a moment. You don't have to do anything you don't want. I promise. Just a moment, please."
Arienne sighs. "Grandma, I'm fine. Really, I—"
"You're not!" her grandmother cuts in. "You're not living. You're barely surviving. Please, Ari. You need this."
Arienne turns her gaze to Pip, his softly glowing eyes staring at her, filled with something that looks very much like empathy.
"Okay." she whispers with a nod.
"Done!" Vuvi grunts with a clap of her hands before snatching the old woman and dragging her down the corridor. She lifts a raised thumb to Pip, who looks on as she vanishes into another room.
Arienne sits at the edge of her bed and gestures toward a small, wooden chair beside her.
Pip quickly shuffles across the room and sits down, starting a lengthy moment of awkward silence as he stares at everything around him except the broken human girl sitting timidly on her bed.
She folds her hands into her lap, turns to him and sighs. "It's okay. I know I'm… I don't… feel… anymore. So, it's okay. You don't have to do anything."
Pip beeps, and tilts his head.
"Wait, do you… understand me?"
He nods eagerly with an affirmative beep.
"Oh..."
The silence returns, not awkward, but a moment held in suspense.
Arienne gulps.
"I… wasn't always like this." she sighs. "I lost my father to the Curse War. He went mad like the others. Hurt people. Then he…" Her eyes didn't tear anymore, she had long since forgotten how to mourn when every day felt like a slow-moving funeral procession. "And my mother…" she says, her voice growing softer. "She didn't last long. It was like watching someone fall out of the world. Just… gone. One morning, she didn't wake up."
Pip tilts his head with a slow, drawn out beep.
She chuckles.
"You're really listening... that's so... thank you."
Pip stares at her for a moment, her soft, brown eyes glazed over by years of emotional neglect. He rises and moves towards her, slowly, gently, with a silent determination and reverent grace.
He stands before her, silent, unbreathing, his chest humming softly as she looks up to him.
"W-What are you—"
[ACTIVATING SENSUAL TOUCH LV. 2]
He brushes his fingertips across her arm and she gasps as she feels a sudden shift in her being, like a mountain of pressure lifted, just a little.
"D-Do that again… please." she whispers, turning to him with wide eyes.
Pip nods softly as he slowly slides his hand down her shoulder. She arches her back and exhales with a whispered moan as he unravels years of tension.
"Again." she exhales, her voice deeper, trembling and tinged with excitement.
He quietly kneels behind her and slides both hands over her shoulders. Her eyes roll back and mouth falls open as she sighs deeply, leaning into him, melting into his metal fingers as he releases a lifetime of exhaustion from her body, her mind and her soul.
"Mooore." she purrs.
[ACTIVATING SENSUAL TOUCH LV. 3]
His grip tightens, his fingers heat up and the gentle hum across his body grows into a mellow vibration. She heaves as his hands move down her back, golden fingers barely separated from her skin by the soft, sheer, satin of her night gown.
"I…I didn't know…" she moans, her voice cracking at Pip's touch. "This is…"
She sinks into him, digging her face into the curve of his neck as his arms wrap around her body, pulling her into his warm, glowing, vibrating embrace.
Her eyes flutter as they begin to well with tears. "W-What?!" she says, flustered. "I'm crying! Why am I crying?! I never—"
Pip doesn't answer with words, he only pulls her closer. And though she tried to resist, she wept. Hard.
"Am I greedy for wanting this?" she mutters, half to herself. "This… your touch. I just want… this feeling… I… just… want… to feel again."
And for what felt like just long enough, he held her tenderly as her tears gave way to understanding, and finally, acceptance.
She pulls her face from his neck, wipes her tears and smiles at him with crimson cheeks.
"I… I get it now." she snickers softly. "Thank you, Prince... Thank you."
He shrugs with a curious beep, tilting his head and she chuckles, tracing a finger over Pip's faceplate as she smiles dangerously.
"You're really good at listening." she says, licking her lips.
She peels off her nightgown and slowly crawls over Pip, rubbing her warm, naked body over his frame. Pip, unsure of how exactly his actions have resulted in Arienne's sudden change of mood, beeps merrily through his confusion as she mounts him, moaning, wearing nothing but a hungry smile.
[ACTIVATING THRUST LV. 3]
Pip gently guides her hips with a sensual touch, moving to her rhythm as her backside grinds against his pelvis. Arienne arches back, hair falling down her face as she drags her fingers across Pip's frame, shuddering through the pulsing pressure building up inside her, pressed and prodded as Pip pushes deeper, forcing out all other feelings from her flesh and replacing her entire sense of being with a single, soul-shaking pleasure that drags her mind through orgasm after orgasm.
A swift change of position has her face pressed into the pillows and Pip bent over her while his metal slaps against thighs with a fierce, fervent tempo. Her moans ascending into whimpers and then cries of ecstasy with every thrust of her hips, the bedframe loudly creaking beneath them.
[INCREASING THRUST OUTPUT: 75%... 100%... 125%...]
A sound builds up in her throat as Pip shifts through multiple thrust vectors, her breath caught, mind teetering on the edge of consciousness. Up until Pip, reading every twitching muscle and hitching breath, digs his fingers into her hips, presses her butt flush against his body, and drives every last possible inch of himself into her.
Over and over and over again, until a shuddering scream of pure ecstasy tears from her throat, rattling the room around them, before slowly fading into soft, breathless murmurs of devotion as Pip continues to usher her into her next climax.
Outside the door, Arienne's grandmother prances around soundlessly on her tiptoes, her one hand clasped to her mouth and the other holds her heart as she laughs sincerely for what felt like the first time in years.
Down the hall, Vuvi softly snores, mumbling about variable-girth algorithms in her sleep as she embraces her drool-stained pillow tightly.
Penelo's ears perk up as the faint, rare and unmistakable sound of a woman bathed in carnal bliss begins to softly echo through the building.
Like a sensual symphony, long lost and almost forgotten, Arienne's shuddering moans and sensual screams reverberate through the halls and walls of the East Market Inn, stirring its guests from their slumber.