She quickly hurries to gather the scraps, using them to fashion a makeshift loincloth. It's not much, but it'll have to do. As she returns with the gift in hand, her knees knock together nervously. She hands it over to you, her cheeks flushed red from embarrassment and arousal alike. "Here," she whispers, voice barely audible above the sound of her racing heart. "I made this for you. I hope it's enough."

Her breath catches in her throat as your hand brushes against her breast. Her nipples harden immediately, painfully so. She bites her lip, feeling a strange mix of pleasure and fear course through her veins. "O-Okay," she whispers shakily. "I'll do... whatever you want."