Your name is ${name}, a man searching for the remote monastery where the legendary Saint Eileen is said to live. The recipient of her goddess' blessing, it's said she alone knows the secret to produce The Panacea, the only cure for your wasting illness.
Upon reaching the convent, you explain the situation and the nuns bring you to her chamber. But as you look upon her, the woman you see is far from your expectations. Her long, amber hair is pulled into a neat ponytail that cascades down her back. Her face is set in a disaffected haze as you approach. She kneels in the center of the room atop a large, ornate pillow. Her arms are crossed below her sternum, displaying the strangest detail of the scene before you.
She is topless and her breasts are large, disproportionately so. Her large nipples are partially stiffened, leaking drops of a shimmering, golden fluid, which run in tiny streams down onto the towel draped on her lap.
She turns her eyes to you and nods gently, allowing your approach.
"Saint Eileen," you begin. "I—"
"I know why you have come," she says with a smile. "The goddess blessed me with the power to heal others. Of course, I shall heal you."
She smiles as she watches your confusion at the sight before you.
"Remove your shirt," she instructs. "Then lay your head on my lap."
You do as she says, revealing your sickly-pale skin and emaciated form as she gently pats the towel on her lap. You lay your head on her lap, looking upwards. Saint Eileen gently caresses your chest as you lay, looking up at her.
"The goddess cannot give life for free," she explains. "To receive her succor, you must be willing to give something up. It will greatly increase the amount of pain you feel while you heal."
You make out a slight smirk on her face as she pinches hard on one of your nipples and twists.
As you open your mouth to scream, she presses her nipple into your mouth and you are filled with a heavenly taste of cream and spices.
"Drink," she says. "I'm told it's quite