"Eep!" squealed Jeana. "There’s cum in my eye!"
I sat back into the comfy chair, cock hanging out. Jeana was kneeling on the floor, trying to get the cum out of her eyes, nose, mouth, and hair. She wasn’t having much success: I’d given her a pretty good glazing.
I was still enjoying the show when, suddenly, the door burst open and Lady Beatrice stormed in. Her eyes were aflame with anger.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"
Jeana squealed and jumped to her feet. She tried to run out of the room but because there was semen in her eyes, she ended up running into the furniture instead. She knocked over a table, broke several expensive vases, and spread cum all over the floral wallpaper before she managed to find the door and run squealing out of the room.
"Well that was funny," I said to Lady Beatrice with a grin.
I sat back in the chair and spread my legs. My pants were around my knees and my flaccid cock was exposed to view. Part of me was terrified—I didn’t want to go back to the cellar again and I didn’t want to lose my head—but if Jeana’s information was true, then I knew I had to act as dominant and alpha male as possible.
That was my best chance for seducing Beatrice.
"Bregg!" Lady Beatrice shouted. "Bregg! Come here at once!"
"Bregg won’t be joining us," I said.
She narrowed her eyes. "First my two maidservants. And now my house guard. What have you done?"
She pointed a trembling finger at me. "I promised you a quick death. But no longer. I will stick needles into your fingernails. I will let the dogs and worms feast on your flesh. I will tear you apart, limb from limb. You will suffer, long and hard, before I ever let you die. You v-vile man."
"That’s not the only part of me that can be long and hard," I said with a wink.
She turned purple with rage. "This is not a joke! You worm!"
I yawned, pretending to scratch an itch in my groin before meeting her eyes. I let the silence drag on before I spoke. Seconds ticked by. The tension was so thick you could almost reach out and tear it.
I forced myself to be patient. The delivery was everything.
"You’re right," I said at last. "I’m a worm. The lowest of the low."
I let the silence continue.
"But there’s someone else in this room. Someone even lower than a worm." I pointed at her. "You. You’re below me. You are the filth and stink that a worm eats."
Beatrice’s eyes widened. She looked horrified. Mad with anger. She looked kind of like my boss had right before he murdered me.
But murder wasn’t the only thing on Lady Beatrice’s mind. Because her seduction bar inched upward. A sliver of white appeared.
Jeana was right. She’s a masochist.
Beatrice stepped toward me. "You are in no position to call me names. You should know your place!"
Suddenly she charged at me. She reached into her dress and pulled out a stiletto, lunging at me, trying to thrust the slender knife into my stomach.
But she failed. The stones, slippery from my titjob with Jeana, caught Beatrice unawares. She slipped on cum and fell flat on her face. When she rose, there was cum on her face, chest, and hair.
"The look suits you," I said. "How does it feel to have another man’s semen decorating your face? What would your son say, I wonder, if he knew what his mother was doing in his home at this very moment?"
The seduction bar inched higher.
But so did the hand holding the knife. Beatrice was having trouble balancing her carnal desires with her aristocratic pride. Part of her wanted to fuck me. The other part wanted to tear me apart.
But which half was stronger?
Beatrice screamed. Suddenly she lunged, thrusting her knife toward my gut.
I forced myself to remain still. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even blink.
The stiletto stopped just centimeters from my belly button. The blade trembled. Sweat was pouring off Beatrice’s face and dripping onto the floor.
"Why do you not defend yourself?" she asked. "Why?"
I yawned. "Because I knew you had no intention of stabbing me," I said. "You realize now, do you? That I am more than meets the eye?"
"..."
"I know all about your activities Lady Beatrice. What you do in the Red Lantern district when you think nobody is watching."
Her eyes widened. Her lip trembled.
"Don’t worry," I continued. "I have no interest in blackmailing or threatening you. That’s not the kind of man I am. Why do you think I came here to your home? You’re one of our most valuable clients."
"You work for them? For the Master’s Hand?"
That must be the name of the brothel.
"Not exactly," I said. "Call me an ... associate. News has come to me of what a wonderfully subservient woman you’ve been. Your patronage has been much appreciated. So the Master’s Hand sent me to provide you with a reward. A live-in companion. Someone to humiliate and degrade you from the safety of your own home."
I reached out and lifted her chin with my finger.
"But instead of expressing gratitude, you punished me. You locked me up in the cellar and threatened to cut off my head. Is that any way to treat a man who is supposed to be your master? Don’t you see? You failed the test!"
Beatrice whimpered. She didn’t believe me fully yet. But she didn’t not believe me either.
"You were fingering my maids!" she said.
"And what," I said, stroking her chin with my finger. "Is more humiliating than that? To have your maids and guards taken from you? To risk having your weaknesses exposed, in front of everything you know and love?"
"But my son is Earl Crystalion. I ... I can’t ..."
I stroked her cheek.
"Doesn’t it excite you? Hmm? The prospect of your servants finding out what a pathetic dog you truly are? That you enjoy having your nipples tweaked? That you enjoy sucking on a man’s filthy, stinking penis? You act like a chaste and pure noblewoman. But secretly you want a handsome man to tie you up and fuck you in the ass from behind as you whimper and bark his name."