Cover yourself

Trying not to draw attention to your condition, you place your hands in your lap, but the warm cloth moving over your skin, creeping lower, closer, Serron's hand nearing your groin, only makes the situation worse. You clear your throat.

"Maybe I should get a towel," you say. You start to get up, but your stiff rod springs free from beneath your hands and you quickly sit back down, your face heating up as you glance at Serron.

"Your Majesty has nothing to be embarrassed about," he says, taking the basin of dirty water to the bathroom. You hear him pour it out and the sound of running water. He returns, carrying a steaming bowl of clean water, and a small towel, which he hands to you. You quickly cover your lap with it, although your hard cock makes an obvious bulge beneath the cloth. "If I may ask, Sir," Serron says, washing your left arm, "why do you hide the gift that the Mother gave you?"

"It doesn't really feel like a gift," you say, frowning. "A gift is not supposed to hurt."

Serron's hands grow still. "You're right, it's not. Perhaps you need to see a healer. What part of your body is hurting?"