New clothes

Hilda moaned in embarrassment as Piahla showed her the feminine slime that had collected on her fingers.

"Honestly girl, I don't know what to do with you. If you get turned on this easily, and you make this much, then normal panties just aren't going to cut it," Piahla said, licking the tasty treat from her fingers when Hilda wasn't looking. "You wait here while I find you some clothes."

Hilda looked herself over in a mirror, a pouty look on her face. She did not like the changes, and was she really that wet down there? She ran a finger down to her newly hair-free hole to inspect.

And that's when Piahla came back. Hilda tried to cover up her actions, but she was too slow. The elf smiled. She had obviously seen everything.

"This was all I could find," said the elf, holding a few scraps of cloth.

Piahla knelt down between Hilda's legs, getting embarrassingly close to her most private area, and took what looked like it was a stained scrap of linen from an old table cloth. She wrapped it around's crotch and hips, then secured it in place with a pin.

"A diaper...?" Hilda whispered. "You're making me wear a diaper?" Her eyes welled up in tears at this latest humiliation.

"Don't be such a crybaby," Piahla said, looking exasperated. "There wasn't any other underwear your size. And with how leaky you've been today, you need something a little more absorbent. No one will see it anyway."

Hilda looked genuinely hurt and about to cry. Seeing how upset this was making her, Piahla's features softened and she leaned in close, hugging the distraught girl and tenderly rubbing her back.

"It's ok, don't cry. It's not really a diaper, its just some spare cloth," said the elf, trying to calm Hilda down about the makeshift diaper. "Besides, with those curvy hips of yours... you... you make it look good," the elf mumbles, blushing a bit herself.

Piahla quickly coughs and then picks up the next article of clothing. "This was all I could find in your size. It's not much, but it's better than nothing."

Hilda held it up and frowned. It was a cheap, stained and stretched-out burlap peasant shift that barely came down over her crotch. It looked like it had been made from an old flour sack. She sighed as she thought about the silken finery she had started the day with and then donned the itchy cloth.

To finish out the set, Piahla wrapped two long, dirty strips of fabric around Hilda's feet. They didn't have any real shoes in her size.