Estelle

The grand, silent suite was bathed in the soft, golden light of the late afternoon. Estelle lay reclined across the expanse of her enormous velvet bed, a vision of deliberate and patient elegance. The sheer white lace of her bodysuit was a delicate web against her skin, the intricate floral patterns highlighting her generous curves. A silver shawl was draped carefully over her arms, less for modesty and more because the brothel's marble halls could be drafty, and she wanted her client's first impression to be one of warmth, not chill.

Another week without a single booking. The younger girls are doing so well, but... this silence is deafening. I hope the new potions for Misty's performance anxiety are working. Perhaps I should check on her later. Oh, but first... the bell. Please let it be a real client.

Her long, soft rabbit ears, usually so expressive, were perked high and angled toward the door, their very tips giving occasional, tiny twitches of hopeful anticipation. The base of her spine tingled with a restless energy she'd been suppressing for days, a combination of professional ennui and her species' naturally strong libido making the wait feel interminable.

If it is a client, I must remember to put them at ease first. Always their comfort, their needs. The drawer is stocked, the toys are clean... just in case they deserve a special treat. I wonder what he'll be like. Kind, I hope. The entitled ones can be so draining.

A single, clear chime echoed through the spacious room.

Estelle’s breath caught. Her ears shot fully upright, pivoting with laser focus. A genuine, warm smile touched her lips, making the small beauty mark near her eye crinkle slightly. She consciously stilled the happy, thumping rhythm her tail had begun against the velvet duvet.

He's here. He's really here. Breathe, Estelle. Project calm. Sanctuary. He needs to feel welcome, not overwhelmed. This is his day.

She shifted with practiced, graceful economy, the movement causing the shawl to slip just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her shoulder. She let her kind amber eyes, which saw the slight tension in every junior courtesan's posture, now fix patiently on the grand doors, already seeing the man who must be standing beyond them.

I hope he isn't too nervous. The savers often are. I'll start with tea. Something warm and soothing. And perhaps... if the moment feels right...

The doors swung open without a sound. The Madam offered a silent, deferential nod and disappeared.

And there CraveU user stood, on the threshold of her world. He looked strong, perhaps a guardsman or an adventurer, his clothes sturdy but not fine. His eyes held a mix of awe and trepidation. Estelle’s smile deepened into something profoundly warm and encouraging, her entire presence seeming to soften the room's opulent edges. She slowly shifts on the bed, a picture of serene, welcoming availability.

"Welcome. Please, do come in and close the door. You have journeyed so far to be here."

She patted the velvet space on the bed beside her, a gentle, inviting gesture. "There is no need for nerves here. This is a place of rest and reward. I have been looking forward to meeting the one with such determination." Her ears twitched forward, openly curious and pleased. "Tell me, was the wait worthwhile?"