Tend to Dryse’s feet

“I wouldn’t want my escort to go through such **** by accompanying me.” A heavily embarrassed Dryse proceeds to pull her hood over her face, as you continue. “In fact, I insist. Let me tend to your feet.” Shocked at your statement, Dryse mutters a sketchy, incoherent reply. “N-N-No, it’s fine! R-Rangers undergo matters far greater than this! A-And what about the O-Officer’s Meeting?!” Her resistance continues to weaken as you advance forth in the conversation.

You place your hand on Dryse’s shoulder, forming a solid bunch of comforting words that will get through to her. “Worrying about me is pointless, Ma’am. Besides, I have my Lieutenant there in my place. I don’t have an excuse, however, to avoid helping this injured little kitten.” You joke, revealing a warm smile to the resistant elf. You had a one-up against this woman, having slept through the night and woken up with a clear mind, while Dryse had stayed up all night to guard your tent. If there was a way to avoid your assistance, Dryse has clearly not found it yet.

After a brief pause, Dryse nodded. “F-Fine.” She finally speaks, apprehensive to lower herself towards an Alliance officer. Following you back into your tent, she takes a seat on a wooden stool you pull up for her. “My mother always taught me to spoil women, although I doubt she had an elf in mind.” You tease Dryse before rummaging underneath your bed of hay. Pulling out your personal first-aid kit, you return to Dryse. You gawk for a moment as the hilarity of the situation hits you. Seeing a grown woman, this female escort, anxiously sitting on the stool with her hands nervously tucked in-between her legs was a cute sight. Emitting a brief chuckle, Dryse looks up at you with an unsure glint in her eyes. “Sorry, the way you’re acting is pretty cute.” You state, kneeling down before Dryse. As you prepare some of the basic items to heal her feet, you continue foolishly reinforcing this woman’s nervous behavior. “If it helps, you can even consider this a personal favor for offering me your exceptional escort abilities.” It appeared as though Dryse understood your attempts to console her, as she pulls her legs out from underneath the stool and places her boots in front of you. With a nice, slow motion, you reach for Dryse’s boots. Although concerned, Dryse merely goes along with your actions. You slide both of the tight, leather boots off her body, allowing the cold Lordaeron air to envelop her overworked feet. Dryse releases a loud sigh, her feet having finally been granted a reprieve from the night’s ****.

Although happy to be of assistance, you noticed this woman was lacking socks. This was an odd surprise, but there was a slightly more intrusive matter at hand. Your gaze was locked onto this ranger’s beautiful feet, the pounding within your chest quickening at the sight of Dryse’s fair skin. While worn from constant ****, her feet still maintained their persuasive, feminine charm. Being this affected by a woman’s feet was something you hadn’t encountered before, even as the prevailing scent reached your nose. You couldn’t help yourself from gliding your fingers across these sore feet, her sweaty soles gladly accepting your prying fingers. You pressed both of your thumbs into her upper sole, reaching into the moist flesh of her right foot, happily replacing Dryse’s pain with relief. During these actions, you felt as if there was something missing from this situation. Though a fleeting thought, you finally realize that neither of Dryse’s feet are as grievously wounded as she made you think. You amuse the thought, wondering whether or not she goaded you into this situation, before being quickly awakened by Dryse’s voice. “What’s wrong? This feels really.. good.” Sliding your thumbs down to her arch, you carefully flex the sore muscles underneath her moist, sweaty skin. Dryse lets out a soft whimper of pleasure as the tension within her feet withers away at your touch. “Sorry, I was distracted for a moment.” Despite saying this, a strange sensation still ran through your body, almost as if your subconscious mind was pushing you further into the depths of your growing lust. Before this thought lingered, Dryse brought you back to reality. Looking down at you, she gave a lighthearted smirk, wordlessly telling you to continue. There was something strange about the way Dryse had so easily adapted to this situation, but you weren’t in a position to complain. Even though this situation is worsening, you are happy to oblige Dryse this rare luxury.

While dipping your thumbs further into her sole, calmly agitating the sore muscles within, Dryse speaks, her idle conversation holding part of your attention. “You know, Captain, we have a name for people like you at home. Most of them are shunned from society as soon as their ‘interests’ become known.” Dryse flexes her feet forward, allowing you easy access to the sweaty underside of her feet. You cradle her foot at the heel, using your thumbs to pierce through her moist, calloused skin to target the aching muscles within. “Some leave the city, while the rest become outcasts in the military. Elven society is a strange thing. Perhaps this is why Lady Sylvanas has taken an interest in you.” Dryse ponders, playfully wiggling her toes in your grasp. As you continue to gaze down at her feet, you realize your affection for Dryse’s feet is growing at a substantial rate. With every movement of her toes, you feel your body swell with warmth, the powerful urges deep inside of you growing more by the second.

Then, out of nowhere, Dryse strikes you with a bombshell. “You like my feet, Captain.” This sent a brief shock up through your body. As you look up to question her words, your eyes are greeted with Dryse’s left foot, vividly wiggling her toes in your face. Her foot hovering close, you have difficulty breaking your gaze from her agile toes as she continues. “There’s no need to respond. After all, the answer is very clear.” It is unfortunate, but there is no hiding this infatuation from Dryse, you confirm, the intoxicating aroma of her foot finally reaching your nostrils.

Shaking your head, you pull away from Dryse’s feet. The allure of Dryse’s feet was a bit too much for you to handle first thing in the morning, and so, you set her boots on the floor besides the stool she sat upon. “Your boots.” Standing up to draw your tent's door flap aside, you wordlessly escaped the situation with this cute escort. It was about time for this elf to stop meddling, you decided. Dryse smirks at you, the shyness you had observed earlier having disappeared. “Of course, Captain. I know when I’m no longer welcome, but Lady Sylvanas will want to meet you before you enter formation with your men.” Dryse states, slipping her bare feet back into the confines of her leather boots. “I trust you won’t make her wait.”

As Dryse exits the tent, each strut of hers oozing with pride, you take a couple deep breaths to figure out your next plan of action. You think that, even though Dryse suggested it, visiting Sylvanas so close to your departure was a bad idea. But at the same time, you find yourself curious as to what Dryse mentioned earlier. After all, why would the Ranger-General of Silvermoon be so interested in a human? None of this made sense to you, but even so, you make your preparations and choose your next objective.