THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Katrina knew his history – the incident with the Elarionne noble girl that had left him wary, even repulsed by women. Here she was, a woman past her prime, and yet he was the one who had initiated this unwelcome closeness. The situation felt bizarre, a tangled knot of propriety and a burgeoning tension that made her skin crawl.

"Katrina," David called, his voice low and rough, a stark contrast to his usual youthful demeanour. "Don't you…" he hesitated, searching for the right words, "Don't you ever get tired of being… lonely?"

Katrina's brow furrowed. Lonely? Was this his justification? "My duty is clear, Young Master. It's all I've ever known." But even as she spoke, a flicker of longing, a yearning for something more, sparked within her. A life confined to starched uniforms and endless tasks suddenly felt suffocating.

The tension in Katrina's shoulders mirrored the tension in the air. "You look like you carry the weight of the entire manor on those shoulders, Katrina," David observed, his voice softer than she expected.

Before she could object, he rose with a swiftness that surprised her. Stepping behind her, his hands found her tense muscles, sending a jolt through her that wasn't entirely unwelcome. His touch, surprisingly gentle yet firm, began to knead away the knots of stress that had accumulated over countless days.

A surprised gasp escaped Katrina's lips. This wasn't the clumsy fumbling she'd expected from the young master. His fingers worked with practised ease, melting the tension away with each press and stroke. A soft moan, almost inaudible, escaped her lips. The stress that had become a constant companion began to ebb away, replaced by a warmth that spread not just through her shoulders, but through her entire body.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of her lips."Goddess..this feels so good" she mused.

A secret smile played on David's lips. "There," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her back. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Katrina couldn't deny the truth in his words. A luxurious languor spread through her, chasing away the remnants of the day's stress. A tiny wrinkle formed between her brows, a testament to her internal conflict. Indulging in such a pleasure, so clearly out of bounds, left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. Yet, the tension melting away under David's touch was undeniably tempting.

A reluctant sigh escaped Katrina's lips. "Alright, Young Master," she finally conceded, the weight of unspoken propriety heavy on her shoulders. "But please," she added, her voice dropping to a pleading whisper, "let this… let this be our secret."

David watched the way her cheeks flushed a rosy pink, a stark contrast to her usual stern demeanour. He found the unexpected vulnerability rather endearing, a stark contrast to the composed head maid he was used to. A single, surprised beat skipped in his chest. This wasn't the Katrina he thought he knew.

"Of course, it will be our secret," he assured her, his voice softer than usual. However, a mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. "But with one condition."

Katrina, lost in the blissful kneading of her tense shoulders, managed a questioning, "What condition, Young Master?"

David leaned in, his voice a husky rumble against her ear. "For today," he murmured, "forget the head maid. Just be a woman who wants to relax, who wants to leave everything to me."

A shiver ran down Katrina's spine, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating anticipation. This wasn't just a massage; it was an invitation, a step into a world she'd only ever glimpsed from afar. David's words hung in the air, a challenge and a promise rolled into one. And for the first time in a long time, Katrina wasn't sure if she wanted to resist.

"Hmm," a soft moan escaped Katrina's lips, a sound so unexpected it sent a jolt through David. Was that… agreement? He stole a glance at her reflection in the polished tabletop across the room. A blush crept up her neck, a stark contrast to her usual stoicism. Had he truly just elicited a moan from the head maid? The realization both surprised and titillated him.

Katrina, caught in the delicious trap of David's touch, felt a tremor run through her. Years of propriety crumbled under the unexpected ministrations. His hands, surprisingly strong and calloused for a young master, kneaded into the knotted muscles of her back with practised ease that both surprised and soothed her. It felt like a forbidden indulgence, a stolen moment of pleasure in a life defined by duty.

"There," David murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Katrina let out a shaky breath, the tension draining from her body with each passing moment. "This is…" she began, searching for the right words, "heavenly." The word sounded foreign on her tongue, yet perfectly captured the blissful sensation washing over her.

David's heart hammered against his ribs. This woman, the ever-stern Katrina, was a revelation. The vulnerability he'd glimpsed earlier had blossomed into a sensuality he hadn't anticipated. His thumbs, following the path of her spine, brushed the edge of her collar, sending a spark through him that had nothing to do with his newfound power.

This was a dangerous game they were playing, a dance on the precipice of propriety. But for now, in the hushed intimacy of the room, both David and Katrina were content to be swept away by the unexpected current of desire.

"Miss Katrina," David called out, his voice a husky murmur laced with a hint of amusement. The pleasure he derived from easing her tension was undeniable, yet a practical concern arose. "It seems your uniform might be… hindering the massage a bit."

Katrina, still lost in the blissful oblivion his touch had created, jolted back to reality. A blush, hotter than any kitchen fire, rose to her cheeks. How could she have forgotten such a basic detail? The realization, coupled with David's teasing tone, sent a wave of shyness crashing over her. This was the head maid, a woman of order and propriety, not some blushing maiden.

"Oh!" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I, uh… yes, of course. Would you mind waiting a moment? I'll just change into something more… suitable."

David couldn't help but be captivated by this new side of Katrina. The stern head maid, usually a picture of steely composure, was now flustered and undeniably adorable. "Certainly, Miss Katrina," he replied, his voice warm with amusement. "Take your time."

He watched her rise from the bed, her movements a touch hesitant, and disappear behind a small tapestry hanging across the room. David assumed it led to a bathing chamber or some such.

Alone, a smile touched David's lips. This unexpected turn of events was a welcome distraction. Here, with Katrina, a connection sparked, a secret simmered. He awaited her return, eager.

David slammed into the bed his groin bulged under his pants. He was at his limit but he knew that he had to take his time with her, she was a stern and disciplined woman but that was all the more David wanted to have his way with her. His thoughts ran wild as his lower member protested to be let out.

The tapestry rustled, and Katrina emerged, a vision that stole David's breath away. Gone was the starched uniform, replaced by a nightdress of the deepest crimson. The rich fabric cascaded down her lewd body, its luxurious velvet whispering promises against her skin. It clung to her curves in a way that left little to the imagination, each movement sending shimmers of an almost iridescent quality across its surface.

Delicate lace adorned the neckline, dipping just enough to tantalize with a glimpse of her full cleavage. The contrast between the stark white and the fiery crimson sent a heat blooming in David's pole. The silk, smooth as moonlight, flowed around her ankles, revealing a daring slit that teased with a hint of meaty seductive leg. This was no longer the head maid, a woman of duty and order. This was Katrina transformed, a creature of captivating desire.

'Isn't she toying with me,' David thought a spark of lustfulness dancing in his eyes.

"I apologize, Young Master," she stammered, a blush painting her cheeks. "This is... truly the only thing I could find that wouldn't hinder the massage." She apologized covering her almost spilling breasts with her arms.

David fought back a smile. The contrast between her flustered demeanor and the delicate garment was undeniably charming. "Not at all, Miss Katrina," he assured her, his voice holding a hint of playful warmth. "In fact, it's perfect. Now, shall we proceed? If you'd be comfortable, lying on your stomach on the bed would allow me to properly target those tense muscles."

Katrina's blush deepened, and she averted her gaze for a moment. Yet, a sense of surrender, a thrilling departure from her usual role, settled over her. With a small nod, she moved towards the bed, the soft fabric whispering against her skin.

The air crackled with a newfound tension, a dance between duty and a desire neither of them could quite name. This message had taken an unexpected turn, and both David and Katrina were about to find out where this path of forbidden pleasure would lead.