The morning sun crept through heavy velvet curtains, casting warm stripes across the luxurious room and the tangled sheets where Clara lay curled against Vestus's broad chest. His fingers lazily traced patterns on her bare shoulder, memorizing every curve and freckle he'd miss in the coming month.

"Must I go?" Vestus murmured, pressing closer. Clara's shoulder-length hair tickled his chin as she nuzzled into his neck. "Surely the great Elven houses can manage their own squabbles."

Clara looked up smiling at the sound of his voice rumbling through his chest. "Noble contracts are binding, my love. Besides, I hear the posting is quite peaceful - just showing our banner on their borders." Her hand slid down his chest, drawing a soft sigh from his lips. "Though I'll miss waking up to this."

Clara propped herself up on an elbow, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Speaking of noble obligations... Lord Thaelar arrives today. Remember when he tried to court me? All those pompous poetry readings and elaborate gifts?"

"How could I forget?" Vestus grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "He spent three months comparing your beauty to various elven flowers I'd never heard of."

"And now I must host him," Clara groaned dramatically, collapsing back onto Vestus's chest. "A whole year of listening to his tales of conquest and watching him preen like a peacock."

Vestus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "Should I be jealous? Perhaps he'll try to seduce you again while I'm away." The jest carried a hint of his old insecurity, though he masked it with a smile.

Clara laughed brightly, the sound echoing off the chamber walls. She moved quick and straddled his hips, leaning down to kiss him deeply. "My darling knight, if his flowery words and elven charms couldn't sway me then, they certainly won't now." Her fingers traced his jaw as she pulled back, eyes soft with devotion. "Besides, I much prefer my men to be skilled with both sword and canvas."

Vestus caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "And yet you'll be alone with him while I'm stationed at his manor." His voice grew husky as he added, "Perhaps I should leave you with something to remember me by?"

Clara's breath hitched as his large hands gripped her hips. "We do have a few hours before you must prepare to leave..." She rocked against him suggestively, then squealed as he suddenly pulled her forward, smashing a kiss onto her lips.

"Then let me ensure Lord Thaelar finds you thoroughly satisfied and completely uninterested in his charms," Vestus growled playfully, claiming her lips in another passionate kiss.

Pulling away, Clara straddled Vestus's muscular form. She could feel him, already hard for her. Even after all this time, he didn't have any trouble with it. As he rocked his hips, her thighs gripping him as she rolled in sync. His hands squeezed her waist, guiding her movements so she sank down onto his thick shaft with a breathy moan.

"Fuck..." she whimpered, her usual noble composure cracking as she began to ride him. Her nails raked across his broad chest, leaving red trails that made him hiss with pleasure. "I needed this... needed you..."

Vestus gripped her hips harder, thrusting up to meet her bouncing rhythm. "Clara... my Clara... I can't believe you're all mine." he growled, transfixed by the sight of her above him, hair wild and skin flushed with desire. Her breasts swayed enticingly with each movement.

She leaned down to capture his mouth in a hungry kiss, grinding herself against him faster. The angle changed, hitting deeper, making her cry out against his lips. "Yes, right there!" 

Their lovemaking grew more frantic, bodies slapping together as Clara chased her peak. She wanted to savor this moment, to make it last. She could feel him, streching her. The way his hands felt on her hips, his fingers digging into her. If only he'd flip her onto her back and take control...

"Fuck, I'm getting close." Vestus said, increasing his pace. 

Clara pulled herself from those fantasies, a wicked grin forming on her face.

"Yes, that's it. Cum for me baby. Let me meet my former suiter filled with your cum."

Vestus groaned, familar warmth bursting into Clara as she pushed him in deeper. 

She collapsed onto his chest, both of them panting heavily. As their breathing steadied, Clara nuzzled his neck with a contented sigh tinged with longing.

"I wish we had more time..." Vestus said. "I haven't even gotten you off yet." 

"No, my love, that was wonderful." She kissed him, truely meaning it. A woman didn't need to orgasm every time to make it special. And she found pleasure in seeing his face as he finished. "But let us at least meet our guest on time." 

They kissed again, and tumbled out of bed, calling in servants to help dress them. 

"Are you going to wear blue today? I've always liked it when you wore blue." Vestus asked as his vest was tied. 

"Blue make me feel like a youth again." Clara answered, picking out a white and gold gown instead and handing it to Lily, her handmaid. "I need something that projects power today." 

Vestus stepped away from the servants.

"That's why I like it. It always reminds me of when we were falling in love."

Clara smiled, kissing him softly.

"Then I'll wear it for you when you return."

The grand entrance hall echoed with measured footsteps as Lord Thaelar swept in, his silver-embroidered robes flowing like liquid moonlight against his tall, lithe frame. His angular face and light blue eyes spoke of the lifetime of experience he held at his fingertips. His walk was smooth, practiced as any noble would be, though his walk felt less of a show and more that it was a part of him. Unlike many human nobles, Lord Thaelar had embraced this walk for decades. 

Clara and Vestus stood at the base of the main staircase, her small hand resting properly in the crook of his arm. She took in Vestus’s presence as much as she could, knowing it would be the last time for a whole month. A whole month...the idea of him being gone for so long made Clara’s heart sink. It would be lonely without his laughter, his smile, and the art he created for her.

"My dearest Lady Clara, I’m pleased that you were able to accommodate me. It’s been far too long since we last enjoyed each others company" Thaelar purred, voice rich as aged honey. His platinum hair cascaded past jeweled ears, catching the light with every graceful movement. "And the years have only enhanced your beauty. You’ve grown into quite the capable lady." His spring-green eyes lingered appreciatively on her form before dismissively passing over Vestus, his lips turning up slightly.

Taking Clara's offered hand, he pressed his lips against her skin, letting them linger far longer than proprietary demanded. 

"Still favoring mortal perfumes? Allow me to introduce you to some of the several varieties I cultivate in my personal gardens. They would be stunning on you." His thumb traced deliberately sensual circles on her inner wrist.

Clara pulled her hand away, unimpressed. "You honor us with your presence, my lord."

"Ah yes, these troubling times." Thaelar's perfect features arranged themselves into practiced concern. "Sir Vestus, I trust you'll find the border posting...educational? I know you haven’t seen battle in far too long. I’m hoping a quiet post will allow you to retrain, perhaps learn more. I've arranged adequate quarters. Nothing like what Lady Clara deserves, of course, but suitable for a common soldier." His lips curled slightly at the word.

"I live to serve," Vestus replied simply, though his grip on Clara's arm tightened.

Clara patted his hand gently, letting him know that she noticed Thaelar’s jibes, but they weren’t anything to be worked up about. 

Thaelar produced an ornate package wrapped in shimmering silk. "A token of my gratitude, sweet Clara. A dress crafted by my personal artisans." His fingers lingered against hers as she accepted it, drawing out the contact. "I look forward to sharing these quarters with you. And I look forward to seeing you in the latest in elven fashion for dinner tonight."

"I must prepare for departure," Vestus said softly to Clara, breaking through Thealar’s display of gratitude.

"Yes, yes," Thaelar waved lazily. "Duty calls. Fear not - I shall ensure Lady Clara wants for nothing in your absence. In fact, I’ll work to provide all the experiences my court has to offer in your absence. An exchange of cultures instead of just a simple accommodation would strengthen our courts relationship, don’t you think?"

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness.” Clara said formally, not giving an inch to Thealar’s suggestive words. She knew him, so she understood the meaning behind his words, though they were subtle enough to be denied if she made a scene. “Let me say farewell to my fiance, and I shall personally show you to your quarters.”

Clara led Vestus to the door, saddened to see him go. 

“I’ll be lonely without you.” She whispered to him, giving him an unbearably brief kiss. “I’m pleased that you will be able to have respite from the war to visit me.”

“Time will go by quickly.” Vestus said softly, trying to not show his anxieties. “I’ll be back before you know it. And we’ll make sure that we spend that time alone, being in each other's arms.”

The goodbyes were short, as their real goodbye had been earlier that day. Vestus walked down the marble steps, and toward the exit. Thaelar’s voice carried after Vestus.

“I’m excited to see where I am going to stay for the foreseeable future. If possible, I would love to bring in some of my own art and furniture. It would be a shame to not feel at home while I am here.” 

“Of course, Lord Thaelar. Your comfort is paramount. If there is anything you need, please ask and we will strive to get it for you.” Clara’s voice was musical. 

Vestus glanced back for one last look. Thaelar’s hand was now in place of Vestus’, guiding Clara away. Vestus felt himself stiffen. Not just his back, but...this felt similar to when he watched Clara dance with other men. Vestus turned and hurried out, not wanting anyone to see the flush in his cheeks or the growth in his pants. This wasn’t something he wanted to feel, let alone something he wanted others to notice. 

***

The late afternoon sun streamed through tall windows as Clara led Lord Thaelar to his quarters, a luxurious suite typically reserved for visiting dignitaries. Servants bustled about, arranging his personal effects while the two nobles engaged in careful small talk.

"I trust these chambers will suffice?" Clara gestured to the opulent space, keeping a proper distance between them.

"They're quite lovely," Thaelar smiled, lounging gracefully in a plush chair. "Though, as I mentioned before, they could use some... personal touches. Ah, perfect timing."

Two elven servants entered, carrying several large covered paintings. With practiced efficiency, they began hanging them on the walls. As the covers were removed, Clara's eyes widened slightly, a small gasp escaping her lips before she caught herself.

The paintings were masterfully done, capturing every intimate detail of beautiful elven women in various states of undress and pleasure. One particularly striking piece showed a white-haired beauty arching backwards in obvious ecstasy, her bare breasts gleaming with sweat.

"My wives and favored companions," Thaelar explained casually, watching Clara's reaction from the corner of his eye. "I commissioned these to ease the loneliness of travel. The artist captured their essence beautifully, wouldn't you agree? Notice how he caught the flush of arousal across Mirielle's chest in this one?"

Clara's fingers tightened imperceptibly on her wine glass. She wanted to leave, but it would be rude. "The technique is... impressive," she managed, keeping her voice steady despite the heat rising to her cheeks.

"Indeed. Though nothing compares to the real thing," Thaelar mused, his voice dropping lower. "I find the human custom of hiding the beauty of the female form rather provincial. In my court, we celebrate such beauty." He gestured to another painting, this one featuring two women engaged in an intimate embrace. "Perhaps you'd allow me to commission a portrait of you someday? My artist has a gift for capturing hidden depths."

Clara took a measured sip of wine, using the moment to compose herself. "You're very kind, my lord, but I don't think that would be appropriate."

"No?" Thaelar's smile held secrets. "Pity. You would make an exquisite subject." His eyes traveled over her form with deliberate appreciation. "Though perhaps, given time, you'll come to appreciate our  artistic sensibilities."

The paintings grew more explicit as the servants continued their work. One showed a blonde elf-maiden on her knees, lips parted in worship before an impressive masculine form. Another depicted three wives intertwined in sapphic pleasure, their faces contorted in bliss. Each new piece seemed deliberately chosen to push boundaries further.

"This one is particularly special," Thaelar rose smoothly, moving to stand behind Clara as she examined a portrait of a raven-haired beauty. The elf was bound artfully in crimson silk ropes that emphasized her pale flesh, thighs spread wide and glistening with obvious arousal. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in a silent cry as multiple thick ropes crossed her heaving breasts, the nipples painfully erect. "Notice how the artist captured her surrender? The way her body yearns for servitude despite her proper upbringing?" His breath ghosted against Clara's ear.

Clara's chest rose and fell rapidly, her corset suddenly feeling too tight as she observed the lewd details - the way the woman's juices dripped down her thighs, the flush of arousal across her skin, the way her bound arms strained against their silken prison. The wine in her glass trembled slightly. The artwork surrounded them now - moans of pleasure and flesh nearly audible in the painted scenes. One particularly bold piece showed the elven nobleman taking a concubine roughly from behind while his wife watched, bound spread-eagle to the bed. The wife's face showed a mixture of humiliation and desperate need, her own wetness visible as she watched her husband inside his lover.

Clara's thighs pressed together unconsciously as heat pooled between them, her breath coming in short pants as Thaelar's presence loomed behind her, close enough to feel his body's warmth.

"Your blush is quite becoming," Thaelar observed softly. "Tell me, does your knight paint you? Or does he lack the vision to capture your potential?" His fingers brushed her elbow, feather-light. "Such passion lurking beneath that noble facade. What a waste."

"I should see to dinner preparations," Clara managed, stepping away from his touch. But her eyes lingered on a painting of a noblewoman's first taste of elven pleasures. How could one feel that much pleasure while just being kissed?

"Of course," Thaelar's smile was knowing. "Though do visit again. When you return I’ll have finished my decorating. I’d love to give you a proper tour of elven culture.”

Clara dashed out, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Come back? She couldn't stand to be in there with just those. What else was that man planning on bringing in? She made a mental note to not let Vestus near Lord Thaelar's quarters, then took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. Her body itched and she felt the need for cool air on her skin.

"It's just art," she whispered to herself, smoothing her skirts. "I'm simply... appreciating the technique. Anyone would react to such detailed work." But the throb between her thighs betrayed her rationalizations.

"My lady?" Lily appeared at her side, concern etched on her young face. "Are you unwell? You look quite flushed."

"I'm fine," Clara said too quickly. "Lord Thaelar's decorating choices are rather bold. Elven culture is quite different from ours." She forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to her ears.

"The dress he brought as a gift is ready in your chambers," Lily said carefully. "Though it's unlike anything I've seen before. I think that calling it bold elven fashion is an understatement."

Clara sighed, but allowed Lily to lead her away, grateful for the immediate distraction from that art.

In her chambers, Clara's breath caught at the sight of the gown. Shimmering fabric in deep emerald that seemed to capture and release light with every movement. But the cut... The neckline plunged dangerously low, the sides featured intricate cutouts that would reveal flashes of skin, and the back was nearly non-existent.

"I can't possibly..." Clara began, but stopped. To refuse would be a grave insult. "Help me into it."

As Lily's fingers worked the lacings, Clara tried to ignore how the silk whispered against her sensitive skin, how it clung to her curves like a lover's hands. The memory of those paintings flashed unbidden in her mind - all that exposed flesh, those expressions of ecstasy.

"It's beautiful on you," Lily murmured, arranging Clara's hair to fall artfully over her exposed shoulders. "Though perhaps too beautiful?"

Clara examined herself in the mirror. The dress made her look like one of those painted elven beauties - sensual, desired, powerful. All of her curves were visible, calling to be touched. It reminded her of something she would wear for Vestus. 

"I agree. But it would be rude to refuse his gift," she said firmly, more to convince herself than Lily. "And it's only dinner. But, let’s have it be a more private dinner. I don’t want to have anyone else there other than the servers and Lord Thaelar. Having others see me in this isn’t something I’m excited about. And Lily?”

The handmaid looked up from where she finished tying the lace. 

“Perhaps let us put a corset atop the dress. I can see my nipples through this fabric. That isn’t something I’m going to allow.”

The private dining room glowed with candlelight, casting intimate shadows across the elaborate feast laid before them. Clara sat rigidly in her emerald dress, acutely aware of how the fabric shifted with each breath. Thaelar had positioned himself across from her rather than at the head of the table, giving him an unobstructed view of her exposed cleavage.

"Your home has such charming provincial character," Thaelar mused, swirling his wine. "Though it lacks certain refinements. Tell me, have you ever visited the elven courts?"

"I haven't had the pleasure," Clara replied carefully, focusing on her soup to avoid his penetrating gaze.

"Ah, you must. The architecture alone is breathtaking. Crystal spires that catch the moonlight, gardens that bloom year-round." His voice dropped lower. "And the bathhouses, heated pools where nobility shed both clothes and inhibitions. You'd find it quite liberating."

The wine seemed to warm Clara's blood with each sip, making her increasingly aware of how the silk dress clung to her curves. "Our customs are different here. It seems to me that you are trying to cause me to avoid your land rather than visit it. I enjoy the privacy of my own bathing chambers"

"Different, yes. Restrictive." Thaelar ignored most of her words as his eyes traced the top of her breasts through the thin fabric. "Like that corset you're wearing atop that beautiful dress. Elven women embrace their natural beauty instead of hiding it behind layers of fabric. I do wish you would have used my gift as intended. Speaking of which..." He gestured to a server who brought forth a crystal decanter. "This wine is from my personal vineyards. A special blend that enhances sensations."

As he poured, his fingers brushed hers deliberately. "I've always admired human women. Such passionate creatures beneath their proper facades. Your blush, for instance, travels quite beautifully down your neck. I wonder how far it extends?"

"My lord," Clara warned, though her voice trembled slightly.

"Tell me about your knight," Thaelar changed tactics smoothly. "How did a noble lady come to choose a common soldier? Surely there were more suitable matches?"

"Vestus is everything I could want," Clara said firmly.

"Everything?" Thaelar's smile was predatory. "How would you know, having experienced so little? Has he shown you true pleasure? The kind that makes you forget your own name? Or does he treat you like the delicate flower humans believe their women to be?"

Clara's cheeks burned. "Our private life is not your concern."

"No? But your happiness is. After all, we'll be sharing these halls for many months. I wouldn’t want my host to feel as though I’m taking away her happiness and giving nothing in return." He studied her over the rim of his glass.

Each course arrived with perfect timing - dishes that required Clara to bend forward slightly to eat, giving Thaelar glimpses of what the dress barely concealed and while the corset covered her nipples from showing through the fabric, the corset gave Thaelar a much better view of the top of her breasts. His gaze felt like physical touches, making her skin prickle with unwanted awareness.

"You wear elven fashion beautifully," he mused at the end of the last course, eyes trailing down her neck to where the dress clung to her curves. "Though perhaps blue would suit you better than green. I have another dress for you to try on, if you'd indulge me?"

He gestured, and a servant brought forth a package wrapped in midnight silk. The dress within was a scandal of sheer fabric and strategic opacity, even more revealing than her current attire.

"Perhaps you'd model it for me?" His smile held dark promise. "We're all friends here."

"That would be inappropriate," Clara said sharply, her cheeks flushing. "You forget yourself, my lord."

"Forget myself?" Thaelar chuckled darkly. "I remember everything, sweet Clara. I remember how you rejected my suit years ago. How you chose a common soldier over an elven lord." His fingers traced the rim of his wine glass. "Though perhaps you didn't understand then what you were refusing."

"I understood perfectly well," Clara's voice was ice. "And my choice remains the same."

"Does it?" His eyes glittered dangerously. "Tell me, does your knight satisfy you fully? Does he know how to touch a woman in ways that make her beg? Or does he fumble like the commoner he is?"

Clara's hand tightened on her knife, standing up causing her chair to scrape back. She leaned over the table, without thinking of the view she was giving Thaelar. "You dare—"

"I dare many things," Thaelar interrupted smoothly. "Just as I dare to wonder how your beloved Vestus is finding his posting? The border can be dangerous. Bandits, wild beasts. A man could easily find himself in harm's way without proper protection."

"If you think threats will—"

"Threats?" He laughed softly. "My dear, I'm offering you a chance to see the full picture. His post at my palace isn’t in jeopardy unless the fighting goes that way. The dress would look lovely on you, and if the fighting did turn that way... perhaps I could keep him as a field commander instead of in the fighting." His smile turned cruel. "Perhaps you'd prefer I detail exactly what dangers lurk in those woods? How easily a patrol could stumble into an ambush? How many ways a man could disappear?"

Clara straightened abruptly. Her whole body trembled with rage and fear. "You're despicable."

"No, I'm patient." Thaelar rose smoothly, towering over her. "And we have months ahead of us, sweet Clara. Months of dinners, of conversations, of choices. Each one brings consequences." He reached for her face but she jerked away. "Tonight's choice is simple - a dress. "

"I think I've lost my appetite. Good evening, my lord."

"Sleep well, sweet Clara," Thaelar called after her, his voice dripping with dark promise. "Do think about what I said. After all, we have many months ahead of us, and I would hate for any accidents to befall your beloved Vestus. The woods are so dangerous at night."

Clara's hands shook as she fled the dining room, the package of blue silk left untouched on the table. Behind her, she could hear Thaelar's soft laughter, and worse - the sound of him drinking from her abandoned wine glass, his lips touching where hers had been, claiming even that small intimacy for himself.

A soft knock on the door made Clara freeze. It was far past the time anyone should have visited her in her bedchambers. But she knew, without needing to hear, who it was.

“Lord Thaelar.” Lily’s voice carried from the sitting room. “I can see that my lady receives the dress. She’s in bed at the moment, so I don’t believe -”

“That’s enough Lily.” Clara said, stepping through her bedroom door. She wore a thick robe, opting to keep it on after her bath in an attempt to hide the body Thaelar had been leering at. “Thank you for your help. You’re dismissed for the evening. I’ll deal with the lord tonight.”

Lily looked between them but did not question. Instead, she scuttled away, closing the door behind her.

Clara stepped forward, snatching the dress out of Thaelar’s hand, then quickly stepped back. 

“If I hear of my betrothed being put in harm's way for your petty games, your stay here will not be as luxurious as you would like it to be.” Clara said, her voice cold. Thaelar looked at her, his eyes trying to pierce through her robe. 

Clara fingered the tie on her robe, dread building inside of her. Vestus would do anything to keep her safe. Would she do the same? Could she do the same? Of course she could. Living with her pride wasn’t worth losing Vestus.

The robes tie was pulled, revealing Clara’s creamy skin underneath. Quickly, she shrugged off the robe, turning around so that Thaelar could only see her ass. The blue dress slid on, hugging her curves. The opaque fabric covered her most private places, but there was still plenty on show. 

Steadying her shaking hands, Clara turned back to face Thaelar, frowning at the amused expression on his face. 

“It looks almost as I imagined.” Thaelar said, stepping forward. Clara stepped back, but each time Thaelar matched those steps until Clara was pressed against a wall. “You need to trim slightly here.”

His fingers brushed around the top and sides of the opaque fabric covering her sex. Honey blonde pubic hair was peeking out, shown off through the transparent material above. 

The touch made Clara want to cringe away, but with her back against the wall, all she could do was tolerate the touch. 

“Trim that hair so you can’t see it anymore.” Thaelar commanded. “I’ll be back tomorrow night and we can try this again.”

“This was supposed to be just tonight.” Clara said, her voice shaking slightly. 

“Once you get it right, we can stop.” Thaelar smiled. “Now, give me the dress.”

“But... You said this was a gift. It’s mine.” Clara struggled to find words, anything that would let her keep this on. If he wanted her to keep trying it on until she had trimmed enough that her hair wouldn’t peek out, then she’d need a guide. 

“It was a dress for you to try on. I never said it was a gift.” An evil smile passed over Thaelar’s face. “I need it back before I leave. Now, do you want to remove it, or should I?”

Clara’s lips trembled. She reached down and pulled up the hem of the dress. She couldn’t turn away with her back against the wall. But Thaelar didn’t even look down. He kept his eyes glued to hers, the smile constantly in place. That made her flush more. He had so much confidence that she would bare herself to him again that he didn’t even have to steal glances at her naked body? 

Grabbing the dress, Thaelar leaned close and whispered softly, a finger trailing along the same spot of her pubic hair he’d touched before, causing the skin to burn with shame.

“Get this shaved for me.”

Then he left. 

Immediately Clara ran and found scissors, trimming back the hair. She knew where it was because she could still feel his touch. The next day Thaelar left her alone until the night, when he arrived with the dress again. She turned her back and stripped, putting the dress on. It was just as he’d wanted. Except... She could still see her pubic hair. 

When she didn’t turn toward him, Thaelar moved around to look. He tutted lightly, and held out his hand for the dress. 

“But... I trimmed it down.” Clara said, slightly in shock. 

“Shave it for me.” Thaelar said, gesturing for her to give the dress. She turned and removed it, putting on a robe before Thaelar left with a smile. 

The next days yielded the same results, Clara’s shame growing with each night as she trimmed and shaved her pubic hair down. Until the fourth night, when she saw a stitch in area. She examined the dress more, and sure enough, more stitches were there. 

“Your servants are removing the opaque area.” Clara said in shock. “You’re making it smaller so I have to keep trying it on.”

Thaelar laughed.

“I told you how to stop this Clara. Shave for me. Once I can’t see hair we’re done with this.”

Clara angrily removed the dress and threw it at Thaelar. 

“Get out.” She snapped.

With a wink, Thaelar left. Clara grabbed her razor and called Lily in to draw her a bath. In the warm water, Clara shaved. Her face was red from anger, from shame. What would she tell Vestus? This was something he’d always wanted, perhaps she could say it was a surprise for him? Maybe it could be a surprise for him?

She went to work quickly, keeping Vestus in mind as she went. He would love this. He would throw himself at her. When she finished she looked at herself and smiled. It did look good. Vestus would like it. If only he’d not danced around the idea they’d have had this sooner. Vestus could have requested this and Clara would have done it. But he’d never asked, just stated that it would look good.

Thaelar didn’t come for the next week. Clara tried to contain her anger at him. She hadn’t shaved for him, so it didn’t matter if she’d won his stupid game. But the idea of him showing up and demanding she wear the dress again made her continue to keep up on the shave instead of waiting for Vestus to returned. 

Then Thaelar arrived. The routine commenced, Clara disrobing with her back turned and pulling the dress on. She only realized her mistake when she turned to face Thaelar. His eyes were fixed on her pussy, so she glanced down and gasped. The opaque fabric was gone, replaced completely by transparent. 

“It’s good to see you listened to me.” Thaelar said, stepping forward, his eyes devouring her. “You’re learning, and I need someone who can learn.” 

Horrified, Clara pulled the dress off and threw it at him. 

“No, this is yours now.” Thaelar said, placing it on one of the chairs. His eyes glided up and down her body, licking his lips as he eyed her bald pussy. “Though this is a much better look on you.”

Clara covered herself too late. Thaelar turned to leave. 

“I’m sure Vestus will appreciate that dress on you when he returns. Wear it for him.”