The new girl’s touch

Darius

I could feel my body tense up as the new girl started to undo my belt, slowly dragging it from the loops of my pants. I was desperate for her to stop, and yet, I couldn't take away a feeling deep inside me that seemed to be waking something I had worked so hard to control—a longing for something more. The bulge in my pants was becoming more and more pronounced as if an answer to an unspoken call. My cock rose with defiant energy, refusing to submit to any authority but hers. This has to be a mistake. No helper has ever made this cock stand. It has to be a mistake.

My body shuddered as her hands pressed against my skin, her cold touch sending shockwaves through me. I clench my jaw and try to remain stoic, but I can feel the heat of panic rising in my belly. I gritted my teeth and made a silent vow, refusing to let her see how deeply this affected me.

She ripped off my pants with a gentle tug, exposing my honed manhood to the air. With two steps, she was standing just inches away from me, her eyes wide with shock as she daringly met me with a gaze. She seemed surprised or maybe shocked by this forbidden view which is of course my cock, but she could not contain herself from staring into the depths of my soul with a searing gaze. A forbidden act that dared to challenge the rules of society—no one had ever stared into my eyes while looking at my arousal—yet here she was, challenging me without flinching or backing down.

The intensity of her stare sent shivers down my spine as I steeled myself against this taboo temptation. I should shout at her or send her away, but no, I didn’t. There is something interesting about the way she looks at my cock. No one has ever stared me straight in the eye. It's forbidden, and she knows it, but the forbiddenness of her action didn't stop her from staring.

"What!" I asked, annoyed that she got my dick to stand, and that had never happened. Who the fuck is she to arouse me like that? Why not the other female helpers but this curious little thing in front of me?

"I forgot to remove your sock, your Grace." My eyes traveled to my legs faster than anything, and there I saw the damn fucking socks. Shit!

She has to touch me again, and that means another solid hardening… Shaft? Hell, no!

My skin crawls at the thought of her cursed hands on me, her blazingly sinful yet angelic touch burning my soul like a raging inferno. There is no way I will allow it.

"I'll remove the socks myself!" I roared, and my voice echoed throughout the room, leaving no room for discussion.

"Her Majesty the Queen said that I have to remove everything, my Lord." My fucking, Lord!

Of course, my mother would say that.

The force of my words could make the walls tremble. "I said, I will take CARE OF IT! Now, GET OUT!" My voice was sharp as a blade, and her eyes widened in fear; it felt like the air had frozen around us. She was clearly mesmerized by my figure and couldn't tear her gaze away from my cock. Why?

Her cheeks flushed bright red as she stammered, "Of- of course, my- my Lord..." before quickly turning around to run. But my voice stopped her midrun.

"Come back tomorrow morning to clean my chambers." She gave a little bow, and I watched her disappear into the darkness, shaking with fear at the thought of facing me again. Am I that terrifying? I doubt.

I stood in the middle of my room, feeling torn between wanting her to stay and wanting her to go. On the one hand, I knew she felt uncomfortable staying while I bathed; on the other hand, I have never felt the need to ask any of the helpers to stay. Why her? It was a dilemma that weighed heavily on me—how could I satisfy both my desire for privacy and my mother's needs?

I'm always stern when it comes to my own dressing and undressing, but today was different. I allowed the new helper to remain in the room and undress me, even going as far as removing my boxers. Why the fuck did I even let her watch my dick like that. It felt strange to have someone witnessing something so personal, yet at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride that I was allowing this girl to see me in such a vulnerable way. I knew I should have turned around and asked her to leave, yet I couldn’t help but maintain eye contact with her as she stared at my arousal.

I stomped forward heading to the bathroom, the anger boiling in my veins as I remembered why I had summoned the new girl to my presence. Fury and annoyance coursed through me at the thought.

I summoned her to give me a massage, but now? I was left with an excruciating, dull ache because my arousal refused to be contained. Angry laughter bubbled from my throat as I realized what had happened. Yet still, all I could do was wait for the tormenting sensations to pass by.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I rushed into the bathroom, my feet pounding against the tiles as I raced towards the shower. With trembling hands, I twisted the shower handle to its hottest setting and stepped under the scalding spray. The water pounded against my shoulders and down onto my back, powering through knots and lingering bruises as it poured over me. I let its heat seep into my aching muscles and wash away my anxieties and worries.

It was just a simple mistake that shouldn't have happened. It had never happened before. Why should it happen now? I have never been aroused by a helper before, why her? What is so different about her?

I knew I had to ask her to come back tomorrow; the last thing I wanted was for her to think less of me. Too easily, these women misinterpret a man's arousal, mainly when it's coming from someone so young. The way she gawked at my cock made it clear that this was uncharted territory for her. If I don't take control, things could take an ugly turn. With every second that passed, I became more and more convinced she was far too innocent for such thoughts.

My mom's hiring of the new, inexperienced girl is bewildering. She traditionally hires skilled seductresses who have a certain mastery of manipulating desires. The innocence radiating from the new girl contrasts starkly with those before her, creating a cloud of confusion that hangs in the air.

I stepped out of the shower with urgency, my body steaming and my skin still slick. I grabbed a towel, drying myself roughly as if in a hurry to escape an impending danger. Then, without stopping for clothes, I darted towards the bed, diving into it in nothing but my birthday suit.