Instead of the preface.

Good day to all who read this story. For a long time I have been a devoted reader of this resource, which I consider to be one of the best. Now I want to make a feasible contribution to its content. This is my first experience in this field, so please treat with understanding. Although of course criticism, as well as just comments on the essence of the written, of course, welcome.

The events and personalities present in the story are fictional, any coincidences with reality are random.

 — — -

There is nothing worse than sitting alone at home when rain pours out of the window, and the only comforters are a faintly lit candle and a half-empty bottle of strong Mulgore. It is doubly worse when there is nowhere to go - all friends and, more importantly, girlfriends who can brighten up loneliness have disappeared somewhere, leaving only a feeling of melancholy, increasing day by day.

At times it seemed to me that past life, full of vagrancy, odd jobs and hard drinking, was far better pastime for someone like me. Then, suddenly, some distant aunt died, which I saw briefly. A little paperwork, a bit of study, and I, a 25-year-old tramp, become the owner of a pharmacy and home in one person. I begin to hear in my address not “well, get out of here!”, But “Mr. Dirre, make me a tincture for ...”. And gradually I am drawn into the swamp called “decent life”.

Having drunk from a mug of wine, I grimaced. The fog was thickening in my head, but the clouds were not in a hurry to crawl away. I was distracted from knocking at the door, which echoed through the empty house, from my thoughts.

"Who the hell is there," I thought, "the shop is closed, but I do not expect guests."

A knock repeated, louder this time, and through the sound of rain, I heard a thin girlish voice saying “open, please.” In the name of Adria

Sometimes I cursed the day when I hung the sign of the goddess of hospitality over my home. It seems that people are more willing to go shopping, but at the same time there are moments when every rabble confuses the hospitality of the owner with his tolerance for beggars. On the other hand, sometimes it can bring exciting adventures. Especially when the guest is a person who does not know anyone and is not wanted by anyone. They are not looking for such people, which means that one can quench the longing of the soul and the lust of the body. Not caring about anything but yourself.

With such thoughts, I took a bottle of wine, a candlestick with burning candles, and went downstairs. A knock at the door came again, weaker than the previous ones. After waiting a few more seconds, so that the one who had come in was desperate to wait for a miracle, I opened the door and directed the candlestick towards the door.

I lit a weak, trembling light guest. Shaky from the cold, thin, medium height girl with long, though wet hair to the middle of the back. Beautiful face, regular shape, gray big eyes, seeming black in the twilight, thin, pale from cold lips of a slightly pink color. A picture flashed through my head, as I tied it, in my basement. As the scarlet bloom from blow with a whip on her pale skin. The member, as if by itself, twitched, getting up.

“In the name of all the gods, why can't you sit at home?” I asked loudly, trying to add to the voice of angry. Let him still be asked, as it should, to enter. Compliant will be later.

"I ... I have nowhere to go," she answered, her voice shaking with cold. Up close, he seemed even more unhappy. But at the same time, it has a fascinating depth. The main thing is to drag her into the house, and there already the devil himself will not hear what is happening in my house, with such a shower.

"Come on in," I grunted.

She brightened and, taking a shy step, was in the hallway.

“I’m going to make a fire,” I said, removing the cloth from the table with the drugs and throwing “Wipe off for now. Then dries by the fire. " After that, I walked to the fireplace. When the tongues of fire were already devouring dry firewood, I found a mug, splashed wine there and quietly knocked over a bubble of myo grass. Usually, this tincture is diluted in several liters of water and drunk in a small glass to enhance the desire and exacerbate the sensations of sex. But in this case, I needed an effect that literally would have fallen from my feet, which is what should happen, because with large doses, the infusion really causes loss of consciousness. Despite the fact that the body, even with a disconnected mind, begins to wildly want sex. Pointing the girl to the chair by the fireplace, I asked:

"What is your name though?"

"Kia" she replied, moving closer to the fire.

“The name of this place, I suppose, came from a distance,” I said, handing her a glass of wine, “You just have icy hands. Have a drink, keep warm. ”

She gratefully accepted the vessel, having drunk about half "on the grasses," she said, coughing.

"Of course. I'm an apothecary. And I know what it takes to warm a person. ”

She finished the rest of the drug and stretched out her arms to the fire, warming them. Here they began to lean toward the floor, and her eyes began to slowly but surely close. “A little more and you will moan from voluptuousness. At first in a dream, and after waking, ”I thought, looking at her. Her eyelids closed, and her head fell limply on her shoulder. The breathing, however, was getting faster. "Begins," I thought. He shook her shoulder saying “get up”. But nothing happened. After that I went to the basement and lit some candles there. In the light, everything looks different from being better than blind swarming in the dark.

Returning from there and after waiting a couple of minutes for loyalty, I picked her up and carried her down. In the basement, I usually spent several ... delicate operations. Which demanded, often, that patients were reliably fixed on the table intended for this purpose.

I put her on the table and began to pull off her clothes. What opened to my eyes was beyond all praise: the graceful figure was endowed with the chiseled features of the best statues of the most talented cutter masters. Smooth and pale, like marble, leather, against which the nipples of the hemispheres of an elastic breast with bright rubies blushed. Oh, what a form it was! Deprived of even a hint of sagging or wrinkles, my chest seemed to implore her to quickly cover my palms.

Below them, behind the plain taut abdomen, followed a mound, barely overgrown with translucent growth of curly hair, which practically did not hide the sponges framing the pink slit of her womb. Not without difficulty looking away from the most intimate, I looked at her face again. Dark hair was scattered across the box, mouth parted, giving out frequent breathing.

Her beauty beckoned with such force that I unwittingly wondered whether it would be better to give up my plans and not to try to get her ... more peacefully. But I rejected this idea, as soon as she was born - such a treasure should be mine now, than to disappear the next morning, saying a mean “thank you for the hospitality. The member, long standing as a stone statue, demanded immediate satisfaction, not ghostly hopes.

Being determined, I took her hand. She was still cool. Do not worry - soon her coldness will be replaced by fever of the drug, and then, most likely, this fever. Which, of course, will bring me a lot of memorable moments. I brought her hand to the belt, which was obliged to hold her in a death grip.

Suddenly, her hand twisted out of mine, and grabbed my hand above the wrist. I did not even have time to blink an eye as she jumped off the table, simultaneously pushing me in the back with such force that I, with my clanking teeth, literally “pressed” on the table. Not believing what was happening, I tried to stand on my hands, but a new blow in the back cut off my idea at the root. Semi-stunned, I felt an unnaturally strong hand jerking me, turning on my back.The girl was standing at the table, looking at me with eyes that were faintly red in the twilight.

She smiled, and I was stunned - her pink tongue appealingly licked her lips, slipped in the teeth, lingering on, incisors growing in front of her eyes. Child of the night. Forever damned. Dark. This people bore many names, but all the stories ...