A crowd gathers at the entrance to the temple of Nonaia, the high goddess of pleasure. Each midday their most beautiful cultists are auctioned off for a night of carnal delight. The most coveted are the Nonian dullahan clerics, servants of the goddess manipulated with magic to enhance their allure.
“Buy me tonight, sir?” The elegant wood elf holding her head in her hands smiles warmly at you from the auction platform.
You’re unsure how to even answer and default to niceties by asking the woman’s name. The attention of a crowd of potential suitors bores into your back. Their envy is obvious. For the briefest moment, you catch a flush of color blooming across her nose and cheeks as her eyes look you up and down.
She leans forward, lowering her head to look your level.
“Ten gold,” someone cries out. “Fifteen gold for the dullahan!” Another shouts.
A surge of bravery rises and you ask to hold her head. To your surprise, she gingerly hands herself over. The silken strands of her silver-grey hair trail through your fingers. Her ears lower and you feel her face squish up into a smile.
Your finger caresses her lips. She nips your fingers gently, biting down playfully.
The crowd grows restless and envious. You lean in close and whisper your intentions into her pointed ear. The crowd can’t see it but the bloom of red across her nose and cheeks is obvious to you. Before you can say more, she steals back her head and rejoins it to her body.
The bids rise and rise. One hundred. Two hundred. Five hundred gold. Your own monthly wage is twenty-five gold, not bad for someone in your trade. It’s enough for a comfortable life but not for a night with one of the most coveted Nonian clerics in the town.
Jenni’s price rose every second until a sneering Duke made a staggering, unbeatable bid.
You shout out, doubling his bid. There’s no way you can pay. It’s more than a year’s wages. All around the crowd is stunned to silence. The Duke’s hand raises to bid but a flustered member of his entourage springs forward and whispers to him hurriedly. His hand lowers again, leaving you to your fate. The auctioneer calls out once, twice, thrice. You’ve won a night with Jenni in exchange for more money than you’ve ever had, and will likely ever have, in your life.
“Yes. Yes. Yes!” Jenni joyfully prances to your side.
The beautiful wood elf fawns over you. Her nude skin presses against your own.
The heat of the Nonian magic rages inside her but the purse you pass over is far lighter than it should be. Before you can even react you’re hastily shooed away. Jenni’s services instead go to the duke. He greedily takes his prize for the night and runs his hands over her body.
For the briefest moment, Jenni looks disappointed before she catches herself and her flirtatious facade returns. What you saw when you almost won her, the flickering passionate flame, was more than an act. You were so sure that excited to be with you.
“Meet me.” You say, blood boiling. “Meet me just once at the inn.”
The magic passionate spark on her neck, Jenni’s very soul, flares for the briefest moment before the Duke’s guard wraps an iron collar around Jenni’s neck. As she’s taken away with a heavy chain, she steals a last longing look while the Duke pays her price.
This was a fun experiment where I let Twitter help vote on the story as it unfolded.
The most shocking decision was that everyone voted to buy her for the night, and then couldn’t follow up on the bid! I didn’t want to do too much of a downer ending. There were a few images I didn’t get to post though; one of Jenni celebrating being bought and one of Jenni in her date outfit.
Sadly for the audience, and Jenni, she was won by the Duke. Maybe there will be more of her someday. Could be a fun Moulin Rouge-like story, maybe? Shame, because I tried to draw her with a really cute butt.
Anyways, with Twitter recently becoming even more unstable and blocking much NSFW content, consider signing up for my newsletter. It’ll be an easy way to get updates now and then.
— PotluckSoup
