The first evening with the maid

Once innyour bedroom for the evening, the maid helps you undress with a detached, almost mechanical efficiency. She kneels in front of you. Without a word, she reaches for the small key hanging from a chain between her beasts and unlocks the cage.

The moment the restriction is gone, a rush of heat floods through you. The air feels heavier, charged. You harden immediately, the sudden freedom making you painfully aware of her presence—her kneeling before you, her hands so close. For the first time since you arrived, you feel powerful.

She speaks in a flat, matter-of-fact tone, as if reciting a script. "I am to please you with my hands." Her words are clinical, but the implication is clear. This is what the Mistress meant by "relax" earlier.

Guilt and unease twist in your gut. You’ve only just arrived, and this feels wrong. You try to wave her away, but she shakes her head. "The mistress wants me to watch you," she explains, her voice still devoid of emotion. "You cannot take care of it yourself."

You step into the shower, the hot water cascading over you. But the heat does nothing to ease the tension in your body. You stay hard, aching, as she washes your back with slow, methodical strokes. Her fingers glide over your skin, and every touch feels like a tease, even if she doesn’t mean it to be. You imagine she is giving you a preview of what she would do to your dick

Finally, she pours cold water over your cock, the sudden chill shocking your system. The hardness fades, and with a practiced motion, she locks the cage back into place.

Again.

"I will be leaving now. Please enjoy your evening." she says softly, walking backward until she exists the room.