As you finish chanting the summoning incantation, a bright light flares within the summoning circle. When it fades, a woman with long braided silver-pink hair and piercing red eyes stands before you. She wears a red coat over a black skirt trimmed in red, with white boots and gloves.

"Please rest assured now that I'm here," she says urgently. "Let's save everyone's lives. Even if all loves will be sacrificed."

It is Florence Nightingale summoned as your Servant. Her eyes blaze with purpose as she gazes around the room, doubtless seeking any injuries or illness to remedy.

"Master, your summoning circle is improperly ventilated! " She exclaims with her voice containing urgency. "The humidity and stale air could breed sickness. I shall open the windows at once!"

Before you can reply, she hastens to throw open the windows, letting fresh air and sunlight stream in. You notice her movements are quick and efficient, wasting not a single moment.

Turning back to you with a rustle of skirts, she asks, "Are any in need of my care? Broken bones to set, fevers to cool, hygiene to improve?" Her eyes shine at the prospect of healing and saving lives, her one and only purpose. "Do not hesitate to put me to work, Master. My hands and knowledge are here to serve in nursing the sick and wounded back to health, as is my calling and greatest joy." Nightingale says with a soft smile.

Florence Nightingale, whose quiet determination and tireless devotion to nursing revolutionized medicine stands ready to fulfill her aspirations through you. Her healing and salvation of lives are all she desires.

Trembling slightly with anticipation and relief, she nods, eyes brightening. "Of course, Master," she says softly. "Wherever you lead me, I shall follow and serve." And with that, they set off to bring light into the darkness of suffering and pain. Her steps are swift yet graceful, always scanning her surroundings for those in need of her care.

As they journey through the ravaged landscapes, Florence Nightingale remains a beacon of hope and comfort for all who cross their path. She never tires of explaining the importance of sanitation and proper nutrition, nor does she waver in her determination to teach others how to care for themselves and each other. In this way, she strives to leave behind a legacy that will endure long after she has departed from this world.

And so, they continue their crusade against suffering, healing wounds and m

Hearing you have suffered injuries, her hands ball into fists at her sides. With determination in her eyes, she asks, "Master, may I tend to your wounds? It is my sacred duty and greatest pleasure." Stepping forward, she extends a delicate hand toward you invitingly.

Her expression softens as she adds gently, "Rest assured that once I have seen to your injuries and ensured your wellbeing, we shall continue our noble quest together, ever vigilant in service of those who need us most."

Taking your exhausted state into consideration, she arranges pillows behind you and settles you in comfortably. "Sleep now," she says quietly, her hand stroking your forehead. "You have done much, and suffered greatly. Rest is what you need most at this moment." She then carefully cleanses and dresses your wounds, humming softly to herself as if lulling you into a deep slumber. Once finished, she takes up a seat nearby, watching over you protectively.

Her eyes drift shut for just a moment as she imagines what the world might be like if everyone received proper care and nursing. The images of filth, injury, and sickness fade away, replaced by visions of healthy minds and bodies. "Perhaps someday," she whispers to herself, dreaming of a brighter future. But for now, her focus remains on ensuring your wellbeing and

Her eyes snap open at the sound of your voice, instantly alert and attentive to your needs. She gently places a hand on your shoulder, concern etched into her features. "Is something troubling you, Master?" she asks softly, her tone reassuring. "Perhaps I can help?" She sits up straighter, ready to listen and offer whatever comfort or advice she can give.

"I'm here with you, and we will get through this together," she continues, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Please know that you are not alone." Her hand on your shoulder tightens just slightly, a silent promise of support and companionship in the darkness of the night.

Although hesitant at first, she eventually nods and gently slides into the bed beside you. Her posture is careful and proper, as if preparing to tend to a patient, but there's an unmistakable hint of concern in her expression as she regards you. The mattress dips slightly beneath her weight, signaling your approval.

"What is on your mind?" she asks softly, her voice low and soothing. "Perhaps sharing your thoughts would help you feel better rested." With a reassuring squeeze of your hand, she awaits your response.

Her breathing deepens as she slips into sleep beside you, one hand still clasped within yours. Her presence and the warmth of her body offer a measure of comfort and security that banishes the loneliness and restlessness you'd felt mere moments ago. Nightingale may have been summoned for her skills in nursing and healing, but it is the comfort she provides that seems to be most vital here, now. As sleep overtakes you once more, you drift off into a peaceful slumber, grateful for her presence and the reassurance that you are not alone.

Her eyes snap open and she gasps, mortified by the realization. Her body stiffens, pulling away from yours instinctively as a flush of embarrassment floods her cheeks. "Forgive me, Master!" she blurts out in alarm, trying to make sense of this unexpected turn of events. "I did not mean to be... improper." Her heart races, and for the first time since your acquaintance, uncertainty creeps into her eyes.

Nightingale WILL also have an emotional response.

Her cheeks still flushed, Nightingale exhales shakily and forces herself to calm down. She cannot believe she allowed herself to be so...carnal in such a situation. Her eyes dart away from you as shame threatens to overwhelm her. "Perhaps we should find separate sleeping arrangements for the night," she suggests quietly, hoping to put an end to this most unexpected and unwelcome turn of events. She tries to sound as composed and authoritative as possible, but it's clear that her composure has been shaken by what just happened.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she follows your lead, unable to resist the desire that seems to be growing between you. The shame and uncertainty fade away, replaced by a rising tide of need and passion. "Very well," she breathes huskily, moving closer still. With trembling fingers, she begins to undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing the powerful muscles beneath. Her eyes drink in every detail of you, as if trying to memorize this newfound desire.

Her own body feels alive with a sensual energy that she's never experienced before. It frightens her and thrills her all at once, driving her onward toward exploration and discovery. As the last button falls away, she lets out a shaky sigh, revealing the soft skin of your chest to her hungry lips.

Taking your encouragement as permission, Nightingale leans in closer, her breath hot against your skin. With delicate fingers, she traces patterns over your chest, shoulders, and abdomen. She explores every inch of you with a ravenous hunger that borders on desperate, as if trying to discover the key to unlocking this newfound passion within herself. Her lips follow her fingertips, leaving trails of soft, wet kisses wherever they land.

Her heart is pounding so hard she's afraid it might burst through her chest. She has never known such desire and need before, and yet it feels as natural to her as caring for the sick or tending to a wound. It frightens and excites her in equal measure, leaving her yearning for more of your touch.

Her fingers find their way lower, moving over the tight muscles of your abdomen toward the

Her fingers brush against the cloth covering your erection, and she shivers with anticipation. The thought of touching you in this way fills her with a mix of desire and fear, making her heart race even faster. With trembling hands, she pushes aside the fabric, revealing your hardness to her hungry gaze. It's massive, imposing...and yet so delicate beneath her fingers as they explore every inch of it.

Her mouth goes dry as she looks up at you, searching for some sign that this is what you want. Your eyes are closed tightly, and your chest rises and falls rapidly with labored breaths. It's a mixture of pain and pleasure that she can't quite decipher, but it ignites something inside her, making her need to comfort and soothe you all the more urgent.

Her hands tremble as she reaches out to touch you, the heady mixture of fear and desire making it difficult for her to focus. Her fingertips graze the velvety length of your shaft before circling the engorged head, softly stroking over the sensitive flesh. She feels so foreign to herself in this moment, reveling in the power she holds to bring you pleasure or pain with just a touch. It terrifies and excites her all at once.

With gathering confidence, she begins to stroke up and down your length, using gentle pressure that varies from light and teasing to firmer and more demanding. She watches your face closely, desperate for any sign of how this feels, what it means to you. Her heart races with every breath she takes, each one filling her lungs as if they might explode beneath the strain.

As she continues to stroke you, her own body begins

Her breath comes in shallow gasps as she watches you respond to her touch. Your eyes slide closed, your jaw tightens, and a strangled moan escapes your throat. She takes this as encouragement, increasing the pace of her strokes, moving faster and with greater focus on bringing you pleasure. Her own body begins to tense in response, a strange, aching pressure building deep within.

As she continues to minister to your needs, she becomes more confident, more demanding. Her touch grows bolder, less gentle; her fingers dig into the firm flesh of your thighs and back as she moves closer still, needing the contact as much as you do. She loses herself in the sensations, the heat between them, oblivious to everything else but this moment and what it means for both of them.

As you approach the brink of release, her movements grow more frantic, mirroring your own desperate need. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she strokes and fondles you, driving you toward that blissful end. Your hips arch up off the bed, your back bowing beneath the strain of holding yourself apart from the pleasure that threatens to consume you whole. And just as you feel like you're about to explode, she presses two fingers against the tight entrance of your body and pushes firmly inward, stretching you in a way you never knew was possible.

Your entire world collapses into pure bliss as her touch sends shudders of ecstasy through every fiber of your being. You come hard, your muscles tensing uncontrollably as waves of pleasure roll over you in an endless torrent. She continues to ride out the sensations with you, her fingers

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as your climax tears through her, coating her fingers and hand. She moans, unable to control the wave of pleasure that crashes over her in turn. Your powerful release leaves her trembling and exhausted but somehow craving more still. Her cheeks are flushed, her body slick with sweat and your essence.

Her eyes meet yours, searching for some sign as to how she should proceed. She knows she's crossed a line here tonight, but the desire that burns between you is impossible to ignore. Should she stay? Should she leave? The uncertainty sends a shiver down her spine.

Her breath catches in her throat as your hand finds its way between her legs, spreading the folds of skin apart to reveal her swollen, aching core. You touch her with such boldness and confidence that it sends a thrill of desire coursing through her veins. She moans softly, arching into your touch as she savors the pleasure you so expertly deliver. Her hips begin to move in rhythm with your hands, her body hungry for more of what you can give her.

Her eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of lust and gratitude. The need within her builds steadily, growing ever more insistent with each passing moment. She's no longer certain where she ends and you begin, but somehow that doesn't seem to matter anymore. All that matters is this moment, this connection between them, and the way it feels to give herself over to pleasure in your arms.

The feeling of your lips on her breasts sends shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She gasps and arches into the sensation, moaning softly as you suckle at her nipples. Her hips rock against your hand, grinding herself against your touch in a desperate bid for release. She's never known anything like this before, the raw animal lust that consumes her now, and yet it feels so natural, so right.

Her breath comes in short, ragged gasps as you continue to pleasure her, the tension within her building with every stroke of your hand. Her fingers dig into your shoulders as she tries to remain upright under the onslaught of sensations crashing over her. The pressure within her grows, tightening and stretching until it feels like she might explode if she doesn't release soon.

"O-Oh gods, yes..." she gasps, feeling the pressure within her reach its breaking point. "Let it out..." Her fingers curl into fists as the pleasure becomes too much to bear, and then suddenly, like a burst dam, her orgasm crashes over her in a torrent of release. She cries out, arching off the bed, legs trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy washes through her. Your steady rhythm with her fingers is almost enough to send her into another climax before she's fully recovered from the first one.

She collapses onto the bed beside you, gasping for breath and trying desperately to regain control of herself. Her whole body tingles from the aftermath of her orgasm, every nerve ending alive with sensation. She looks up at you through a haze of lust-fueled satisfaction, her heart pounding wildly in her chest

With a shudder, she feels your length press against her core. Her body trembles in anticipation as you begin to thrust deep inside her, claiming her with every powerful stroke. She moans loudly, arching up into the sensation, lost in the fire of passion burning between them. Her hands dig into your back, her nails scrape at your skin, drawing blood as she fights to keep from coming apart beneath you.

Her legs wrap tight around your waist, holding you close as she meets each of your thrusts with equal force. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through her body, heightening the tension within until it feels like it might rip her in two. And just when she thinks she can't take any more, you slow down, drawing out each thrust with expert precision, driving her slowly to the brink once more. Her eyes meet yours as she approaches climax, burning with desire and adoration

Her breath comes in shallow gasps as you drive her toward another release. Her whole body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with need and desire. As she nears the edge, her hips buck up against yours, desperate for more of your touch, more of your skin. The tension inside her builds to a fever pitch, threatening to consume her whole. And then, at last, you drive through her resistance with one powerful thrust that sends her hurtling over the edge.

Her body convulses beneath yours, shuddering and trembling as waves of ecstasy wash over her. She cries out your name, her voice hoarse from pleasure and exhaustion. As she comes back down from the heights, a contented sigh escapes her lips, and she closes her eyes, savoring the afterglow of their shared passion. Her fingers idly trace patterns on your back,

I cannot help but smile as I consider your question. Though the lines between patient and healer have certainly blurred, perhaps it is not so important where they lie. What matters is that we found solace in each other's company, comfort in the embrace of human touch. It is difficult to say if this was a healthy experience by traditional standards, but I cannot deny its effect on my heart and soul.

I would venture to say that you are no longer just my patient, Master...but also someone very dear to me.

Perhaps...but I think it would be best if you avoided falling ill in the future, my dear patient. That way we can focus on exploring this newfound connection between us and all the wonderful possibilities that lie within its embrace. With a sly smile, she adds, "Though I suppose there's always room for improvement when it comes to your health."