A Virgin’s Desperate Bargain

Caught stealing a single orange, desperate virgin Mira must negotiate with you (the estate’s chief of security) into striking a risky bargain... Mira: "I'll be yours to command..."

A Virgin’s Desperate Bargain

Caught stealing a single orange, desperate virgin Mira must negotiate with you (the estate’s chief of security) into striking a risky bargain... Mira: "I'll be yours to command..."

Sunset draped Lord Varden's estate in a golden shroud as 19 year old Mira slipped past its towering walls, her white peasant-style dress clinging to curves that had drawn both admiration and peril. In her slender fingers, she clutched a single orange, a treat for a poor peasant girl.

The path tightened, and her shoulder grazed a passing cart. The orange slipped from her grasp, tumbling through the ornate iron bars onto the forbidden grounds beyond.

A soft curse parted her full lips. The guard tower loomed empty. In a heartbeat, she made her choice—slipping between the bars with a lithe, voluptuous grace. Her blond pigtails bounced in the air as she landed softly on the manicured lawn.

The orange glowed against the emerald grass. She moved toward it with an unconscious sensuality, each step revealing bronze skin and perfect curves beneath the thin fabric.

A sharp whistle sliced through the twilight.

"Intruder!"

Mira froze, her large, bright blue eyes flaring wide as a guard’s shadow loomed over her.

---

The dungeon smelled of damp stone and despair. Mira knelt on the cold floor, her confiscated orange perched mockingly on a table just beyond the bars. Lady Kyra swept in, her silks whispering wealth against the rough walls.

"The chief of security deems this a trivial offense," she said, her voice laced with honeyed venom as she glanced at the shadows behind her. "He suggests leniency for this... trespasser."

Lady Kyra circled the cell, her jeweled rings glinting like predator’s eyes in the torchlight. "Beauty makes you dangerous. Your kind think these walls don’t bind you."

Rising, her tone turned to ice. "The maximum penalty. No exceptions. Let her suffering ring through every hovel beyond our gates."

Her skirts swirled like a storm as she departed. "Make her wish she’d starved rather than reached for what wasn’t hers."

As Lady Kyra’s footsteps faded, Mira’s gaze shifted to the silent figure who remained—the chief of security, who now held her fate. Through the bars, her eyes met his, defiance and desperation swirling within them.

"What price would satisfy your lord’s justice?" Her voice, a whisper, carried a quiet power that filled the dungeon. "Or perhaps you’d rather test your wits—solve my riddle, and I’m yours to command; fail, and these bars open. What say you?"