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Hell Pawn
Should I call you master?

Should I call you master?

Waving his naked penis, Cyril went to the old woman's trunk. Walking without clothes became uncomfortable.

At least it's warm in here. Cyril thought as he opened the trunk lid. As my encounter with the elemental showed, I can't die from the cold either.

The trunk contained a dress made of expensive fabrics, underwear (slightly spoiled), a bag of gold and silver coins, and a book.

I just want to get dressed. Cyril continued to think, sorting through the coins. My cock is freezing. What do we have here?

Cyril counted a dozen gold coins and as many silver coins in the leather bag. He left a handful of coppers uncounted. However, it wasn't the money that caught Cyril's attention. He found the book much more interesting.

"Granny, you're a pawnbroker!" Cyril exclaimed, and laughed. "Fuck, that's right, just like at home! I wonder if I can use it?"

Taking the book of debtors and a bag of coins, he now opened his own trunk, flashing the blue magic of lock, and put his loot into the basket. Looking at the collected herbs, Cyril tensed a little.

Wait a minute. He turned back, but still there was no sign of Clara. The old woman said that woods are alive and don't just give goods away. That's so cool!

Cyril was glad when he thought that he could go back to the forest and try to die there. Although he was smiling and the new world seemed more interesting to him, he didn't really want any adventures. The pain of losing his beloved wife and son sat deep in his heart and sucked the desire to live out of him like a leech. Dreaming of death, Cyril searched for any way to commit suicide, but so far his attempts have not been successful.

"Cyril, I'm back!"

Clara burst into the locker room, beaming. The genuine joy on her face might have lightened Cyril's dark soul, but he wouldn't think of changing his purpose.

"What are you so happy about?" He asked. "Do you think, if you've brought me some clothes, stuck out your ass and showed me a trunk, we are a couple in love now?"

"Why do you say that?" Clara stopped. The girl's lips trembled, and her hands clutched the pile of clothes.

"I don't wanna lie to you." Cyril replied. "I love only one woman, and she's my wife. You will never be able to replace her or even keep up with her. Everything I do is just to see her again."

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Clara swallowed.

"I never believed in the afterlife, but I didn't believe in other worlds, either." Cyril continued, accepting a stack of clothes from the silent Clara. "So there are two options for me now on."

Clara listened, watching as Cyril put on cotton underwear, linen trousers, and a gray shirt. She listened with half an ear, glad that she had guessed the right size.

"Either there is an afterlife, or there isn't. If this is a fairy tale, I will just die and stop suffering from loss."

It wasn't difficult to run into a nearby store and buy a suit. But was it easy to choose a size just by imagining his naked figure? She was afraid to cum in the same store. But the clothing salesman didn't get anything but her peed-up underpants. As she've chosen a new dress for her, too, she hurried back.

"If there is an afterlife." Cyril continued. "I will meet my family."

Clara stopped being afraid and crying. She looked at him again with admiration. She was ready to serve as a bed for him, to kiss his feet and run around like a dog, just to see him again and again, to hear, to feel the occasional touch of his fingers when he took this clothes from her hands.

Cyril pulled a fur vest over his shirt and looked at Clara gravely.

"If you want to be my lovesick maid, I don't mind good sex. But don't expect more."

How did he know about my feelings!? The obvious question was written on her face, and Cyril couldn't help but grin.

"I agree to serve you." Clara nodded enthusiastically, then added. "Should I call you master from now?"

"Ugh, no fucking way!" He waved his hands. "This is too much, call me... God! I'm not building a harem here. I just need some help to figure this out. Fuck you, Clara. Just be there if you want. If you want to start a family and have children, it's not for me. Let's go out."

Cyril shook his head, grabbed the basket, and left the locker room, trying not to look at her face. He knew that he was being cynical, but at the same time, he didn't want to be a villain and never hurt women. Although he had just told Clara the truth, the leech in his heart was somehow sucking harder.

I'm a good guy. He reminded himself as he strode through the reception area to leave the bathhouse. I give people a choice. So don't blame me!

However, the new world had already begun to change the good guy, and Cyrir had yet to find out what was happening to him.

The key to the solution lies in the couple of days I can't remember. He thought. I was drinking like hell, of course, but it's hardly just that.

He came out of the bathhouse and turned his face to the hot sun. Cyril finally calmed down, turned, and saw that Clara had followed him out. Her new dress was even thinner and shorter, and her sharp nipples teased the men's eyes.

The city streets were busier at this hour. Several men had just come up to the bathhouse and were looking at Сlara longingly.

"Oh, Clara. Hello." One of them said, seemed to be the strongest. "Is the bathhouse open today?"

He looked at Clara and the guy next to her in surprise, wondering why she wasn't inside. Clara smiled sweetly and replied in a calm voice with a hint of pride.

"The baths are always open." She said. "But without me from now."

Men shrugged their shoulders. They had been working all day, and now they wanted to wash and recover their strength. They came every day to this bath, and each time they invited the dear girl to go with them to the hot grotto, but Clara replied that it was not her duty to do so. She offered them to take a concubine, but the guys were afraid to spend extra money, especially when their wives and children were waiting for them at home.

"So you're free of office restrictions now, huh?" The burly man smiled and licked his lips in no uncertain terms. His gaze, full of lust, went to the protruding nipples.

"Pfft, don't get your hopes up, Felix." Clara said, and grabbed Cyril's arm.

'What the fuck?' Cyril didn't understand.

"Haha!" Felix laughed and waved to his companions. "Come on, guys. Today is not our day again. See you later, Clara!"

He gave Cyril a condescending look. Cyril's lean frame made Felix look like a poor choice for such a beauty. Felix passed on, beckoning to his companions, and the group of men disappeared into the bathhouse.

"Take your hand off me." Cyril hissed.

"I'm sorry." Clara said, looking down and smiling surreptitiously.

"Where is the Carpenter street?" He asked.

"Oh, it's over there!" Clara sang cheerfully and walked confidently in the direction indicated.

The devil made me take you with me, you prickle. Cyril thought, but followed.