A soft, feathery surface pressed against my back as I fluttered my eyes awake, the soft aroma of creamy food infiltrating my nostrils.

As I surveyed my surroundings, it became evident that I wasn’t in the slave chambers.

The room lacked the characteristic stench of rotting walls and despair that I had grown accustomed to during my two-week ordeal. Instead, I found myself in a far more pleasant environment, the bed being remarkably more comfortable than whatever I slept on for the past two weeks.

As I attempted to stand up, the door in front of me suddenly barged open, the woman who burst into the room clad in a traditional maid outfit. Her attire was both modest and distinctive, with an air of elegance that reminded me of the classical Victorian era.

She wore a knee-length black dress with a white pinafore apron layered over it. The apron featured frilly lace trim along the edges, lending a touch of charm to the otherwise functional garment. A white lace headband held her hair neatly in place, complementing her uniform.

Her attire was completed with black stockings that reached just above the knee, coupled with simple, comfortable black shoes designed for long hours of service.

“Alright, I’ll tell him-” But as she turned her head over to me, her eyes widened up and her mouth drooped open as she stood frozen in place.

With a somewhat awkward and hesitant gesture, I raised a single hand and gave her a small wave.

“Hello.” I muttered.

“...You’re awake.” She said, breaking her trance as she trodded over to me.

“Yes, I-” Suddenly, she placed her hand over my forehead, her face mere inches away from mine as she held her grip for some moments, before finally retracting it.

I tilted my head, and raised my eyebrow as if to say, Mind explaining yourself?

She coughed as she cast her gaze downward.

“"I-I'm sorry for startling you. You had a fever for two days straight while we cared for you when you were asleep.” The maid said in a startle.

“I see...”

As if on cue, a low rumble resonated from below, resembling a minor earthquake.

Though really it was my abdomen.

“Ah...” I muttered, while the woman dressed in a maid outfit giggled in a hushed voice.

“I could get you something to eat, if you want.”

“Yes, please.”

Balancing a spoon in hand and a tray on my thighs, I embarked on my long-overdue meal. Each bite of bread, soaked in a steaming bowl of pumpkin soup, felt like a momentous occasion.

It had been nearly two weeks since I'd had a proper meal, and I intended to savor every mouthful.

“Where am I, anyways?” I asked the woman in the chair.

“You’re in Lord Robbrecht’s guest room. He said he wanted to reward you for being able to win against Kyle.” She explained.

“And my name is Natali, I’m a maid within Lord Robbrecht’s household.”

Reward, huh? I thought as I gulped down the soup.

“I’m Musa. Nice to meet you, Natali.” I said, forcing a smile onto my face.

Natali returned the gesture, then cast her gaze downward.

As I glanced discreetly in her direction, I couldn't help but notice Natali's mature physique. Her clothing clung to her in all the right places, sculpting her figure into a living masterpiece reminiscent of an hourglass, a trophy all men desire in the bedroom.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I subtly bit my underlips.

“Who cared for me all this time?” I asked, staring deep into her hazel colored eyes.

“Well, I suppose Mr.Barbaros and I came here the most often...” She replied, averting her gaze from me. “I see. Thank you for taking care of me, my dear.” I said in a lower voice.

“Oh, it’s no problem really...” She muttered, flushed by my words, then tried to cough it away.

“A-anyway, I saw the fight, you against Kyle. We all thought you were gonna lose, yet you completely defeated him in the second half of the fight, it was as if you unveiled a hidden trump card in your deck!” Her adorable expression would even be able to melt the coldest hearts.

Speaking of melting...

"You know," I suggested, my lips curling into an inviting smile, "there's another secret card, this time hidden in pants. Would you like to see?"

She began to utter, her voice trailing off into a bemused murmur as her eyes widened. Her gaze shifted downwards, the realization dawning like a sly secret shared between conspirators. Her index finger gently grazed her cheek, tracing a slow path as her attention lingered on my nether regions.

It was a mischievous proposition, delivered with just the right amount of playfulness to kindle her interest further.

She gulped, then uttered “...I- I don’t know...” She turned her head over towards the exit door. "We shouldn't," she stammered, her voice barely more than a breathy whisper, betraying her inner turmoil.

"Perhaps we shouldn't, but you do want to, don't you?" I replied, my voice a soft, seductive murmur.

Her chest rose up and down erratically as she fiddled with her frilly dress.

"Give in to temptation, my love," I urged, my words a gentle persuasion that seemed to echo in the hushed intimacy of the room. "As long as you're quiet, nobody will know."

I reached out, my hand gently grazing her cheek, tracing the path her finger had taken moments ago.

Her eyes, locked onto mine, were a window into her inner conflict. They held a mixture of longing and uncertainty, like a captured fire yearning to be released.

I leaned forward, sharing a kiss waiting to be fulfill.

“My great man, I’ve heard you have woken up from-” Robbrecht said after he barged into the room, unannounced.

“S-sir Robbrecht.” The maid stammared, pushing me away as she stood up, her cheeks an obvious tint of red as she narrows her eyes downward. She quickly straightened herself, as if attempting to erase any sign of impropriety.

Robbrecht’s expression changed from confusion to realization as he took in the scene before him.

“I... we didn’t mean to...” She muttered.

“It’s... Alright. Leave us so we can talk in private.”

“Y-yes, sir.” She walked out, though not before exchanging a quick glance with me.

I winked at her, as if to say that this wasn’t over, and with that she took her leave.

I turned my head towards Robbrecht, already having a general idea of what he’ll be saying.

“...Anyways, I see you’ve fully recovered from the deep sleep you were in. How are you?”

“I’ve... been better.”

“Right.” He averted his gaze.

“Tell me your name, my good man.” He inquired.

“It’s Musa. Musa Laurusa.”

“Musa...” He repeated to himself, nodding all the while.

“I see you quite like it here.” He said with a chuckle, looking at me from the corner of his eye.

First he blue-balls me, then teases me about it?

The audacity...

I replied, "Yes, I've found this place... intriguing."

“It really is. If you want to keep your priviliges as a skilled house slave, you will have to keep fighting against other men from time to time. Of course, they won’t all be like Kyle.”

...Should have leveled up strength instead.

The mention of fighting piqued my interest and concern. There were some gladiatorial-esque fights in the game, but I hadn't expected to be drawn into them.

“And if I refuse, I’ll be thrown back into the slave chambers.”

“Exactly.”

With both hands behind his back, Robbrecht walked towards the front of the bureau right next to the window. He placed a hand onto the table, and smiled as if he smelled gold.

Looking out of the window, he said “You and I will be making alot more money from this day onward.”

And all of it will be going to you. I thought.

“Grant me a position of authority within your plantation.” I said, my voice firm and stoic.

“Excuse me?” He turned his head around as ridicule was set on his face.

Give me control a part of the slaves, and you will see an increase in productivity. In return, I ask that you grant me more privileges, and overlook certain... actions.”

“So you want to be a taskmaster, then?”

He regarded me thoughtfully, his initial mockery giving way to a more serious contemplation.

Robbrecht’s fingers grazed his chin as he thought over the request.

Finally, he looked into my eyes, ready to deliver his response. "Ah, why the hell not," he said with a bitter smile, as if recognizing the potential benefits of our arrangement. "However," he added, his tone growing more serious, "I'll have to be sure you keep your end of the bargain. If my profits do not rise above a certain threshold that has yet to be decided, you will find yourself in the doghouse, receiving one hundred whiplashes as punishment."

“Thank you, Sir Robbrecht.” I replied.

With that, he moved towards the exit, ready to leave. But before he could make his exit, I extended my hand, halting his departure.

“Wait, Sir.” I said.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Could you be so kind as to bring that maid over?”

Robbrecht chuckled lightly. "Don't push it," he cautioned with a knowing smile. With that, he closed the door behind him, and I thought that was the end of our conversation for the day. I picked up my food tray, about to take a spoonful of soup and bread, when I heard the door open ever so slightly.

A woman dressed in a frilly maid costume cautiously emerged from the doorway.

"Y-You wanted to see me, sir?" Her voice quivered as she stood there, , a gaze desperately evading mine.