#60
Outside the heavy oak door of Celestina’s room, Evelyn paused during her midnight rounds. The household was her domain, every creak of the floorboards familiar beneath her sensible shoes.
As the family’s devoted maid, she had long grown accustomed to the nocturnal sounds drifting from the rooms. But tonight, the noises were especially vivid: the rhythmic thuds of the bedframe slamming against the wall, the slick slaps of skin colliding, the rising chorus of moans that built to a shattering peak before fading into deep, contented sighs.
Energetic as ever, she thought, shaking her head with a faint smile.
It was well past midnight, yet there they were, lost in their seemingly insatiable passions. In this world where men like William were rarer than flawless diamonds, such indulgences were both a luxury and a miracle—one she had sworn to protect.
Evelyn straightened her crisp maid’s uniform, the black fabric clinging to her sturdy frame, the white apron starched to perfection. She had served the household for over a decade, watching William evolve from a bumbling boy into the virile man he had become, his sisters drawn to him in a whirlwind of sibling rivalry and raw carnal hunger.
At first, she had been indifferent to William’s well-being.
He was just another man— incompetent, useless, harboring a deep dislike for women. It was hard to imagine what benefit he could bring to society, no matter how much the government in this country cherished and protected men like him. He would end up like so many others: a worm that only knew how to consume and excrete, offering nothing in return. Well, aside from their measly little semen.
But suddenly, everything had changed.
Just how had it happened?
The once-useless and incompetent boy had transformed into a dependable and reliable man.
He no longer disliked women or feared their bodies; in fact, he seemed to relish touching them, exploring every curve with eager hands—a trait every man should ideally possess.
The shift had happened overnight, with no clear explanation. It was as if someone had replaced him or rewired his mind, brainwashing away his flaws.
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on the angle—all inspections and examinations had cleared those suspicions.
If such abilities existed, the individual behind it would have been seized by the state, molded into a beacon of hope for the future.
Yet the reason for this change still eluded them. Because of that, they couldn’t replicate it in other men or anticipate any broader shifts.
If only we could understand how the young master changed, Evelyn mused, it would be a game-changer.
Although it was illegal and forbidden to cause physical harm to men in this country, subtler methods—as long as they avoided direct injury—should pose no issue. After all, results were everything.
Just like now.
Drawn by curiosity, Evelyn had cracked the door open just enough to peer inside, her breath catching at the sight.
On the grand four-poster bed, William pinned Celestina beneath him, his hips driving forward with relentless force, his thick cock plunging deep into her soaked pussy over and over.
Celestina’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as her nails raked down his back, her full breasts bouncing with each powerful thrust. William’s mouth latched onto the side of her neck, sucking and biting the tender skin while he groaned, his body slick with sweat, muscles straining as he poured every ounce of his strength into fucking her.
It wasn’t overwhelming power, but it was enough—more than enough—to make Celestina’s body quiver and arch, her inner walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses. The air hung heavy with the musky scent of sex, mingled with the faint metallic tang of exertion.
Evelyn’s eyes then drifted to the edge of the bed, where Yuka Grant, William and Celestina’s cousin, lay sprawled unconscious and utterly naked. Her lithe form glistened under the dim lamplight, thighs parted just enough to reveal the sticky trails of cum and arousal dripping from her swollen pussy and pooling beneath her ass on the rumpled sheets.
Bruises bloomed faintly on her hips and breasts, marks of recent rough handling, but her face held a serene, sated expression in sleep.
What happened here?
Evelyn wondered, a flicker of bewilderment cutting through her composure. Yuka must have joined them earlier, only to be overwhelmed and left in this vulnerable state.
The evidence of her participation was clear in the glistening mess between her legs, yet why had they abandoned her like this?
Celestina’s gaze flicked toward the door, locking onto Evelyn’s for a brief, knowing moment amid her gasps. But Evelyn didn’t want to interrupt their fervor.
With a subtle nod, she eased the door shut, the soft click muffling the final echoes of their heavy breathing and the wet sounds of William’s cock still sliding in and out of his sister’s dripping folds.
Her footsteps were silent as she descended the grand staircase, the polished banister cool and smooth under her palm. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows, painting silvery patterns across the marble floors and deepening the shadows in the ornate corners.
At the heavy front door, she paused to secure the lock, the key turning with a sharp, decisive snap. The night air rushed in crisp and invigorating as she stepped outside, carrying the subtle perfume of blooming night jasmine from the manicured gardens.
A sleek black sedan idled at the curb, its electric engine humming low and unobtrusive—a hallmark of this era’s female-driven ingenuity.
The driver, a sharp-featured woman in a tailored suit, gave a curt nod as Evelyn approached. Without a word, she swung open the rear door, her movements precise and deferential.
Evelyn settled into the supple leather seat, the door sealing shut with a hushed whisper.
The interior glowed softly, dashboard screens flickering with navigation overlays and ambient data streams.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the driver said, her voice clipped and professional. “Direct to the agency?”
“Yes,” Evelyn replied, her tone firm, allowing no room for delay.
The car eased forward smoothly, gliding through the hushed streets lined with soaring apartment blocks and secluded women-only enclaves, the city’s pulse a distant, electric thrum under the starlit sky.
As the city lights blurred into streaks of neon and shadow past the tinted windows, Evelyn’s thoughts lingered on the heated tangle she’d left behind in Celestina’s room.
A subtle smile curved her lips, and she slipped her phone from the pocket of her uniform, thumbing through the icons until a video feed bloomed on the screen.
The footage captured William and Celestina in the throes of their passion, frozen in a position that eclipsed even the boldest clips circulating on underground networks.
William knelt behind Celestina, her body arched on all fours, her pale ass thrust high toward him like an offering. He gripped her raised thigh, yanking it back to straddle his face with her hips.
For a long beat, he simply stared at the glistening folds of her soaked slit, parted and quivering in anticipation, before diving in. His tongue lashed out, lapping hungrily at her dripping entrance, then circling her swollen clit with firm, insistent strokes.
Damn, that’s hot, Evelyn thought, her pulse quickening as she watched Celestina’s body jolt, a raw scream tearing from her throat.
Evelyn knew that ecstasy all too well—William had devoured her own pussy on several occasions, his mouth working her folds with the same relentless fervor each time, as if discovering her taste anew. The memory sent a warm throb between Evelyn’s thighs, her core clenching involuntarily.
“Aaaaahhhhh… that’s it… suck my clit, Will… suck it hard!” Celestina wailed, her lips popping free from her brother’s throbbing shaft as waves of pleasure crashed through her.
Saliva and her own juices smeared her chin, but she only paused a heartbeat before lunging back, engulfing his veined length once more, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked greedily.
The display was pure fire, potent enough to push anyone over the edge. Their mingled cries and guttural moans spilled from the phone’s speaker, saturating the car’s interior with raw, unfiltered lust.
Evelyn made no move to lower the volume, unconcerned that the two agents up front could hear every gasp and slurp. If anything, the driver’s reflection in the rearview showed a pleased smirk tugging at her mouth, while the co-driver’s fingers drummed lightly on her knee.
“Master William’s as vigorous as ever,” the driver murmured, her voice a low rumble over the engine’s hum.
“Indeed,” Evelyn agreed, her eyes still glued to the screen. “A truly wonderful development.”
The co-driver leaned forward slightly; her voice breathless with wonder.
“Of course! I couldn’t believe the initial reports, but to see a man who not only craves sex with women but can keep going, thrust after thrust… It’s like a dream woven from old myths.”
“But that’s precisely why he’s so invaluable,” the driver added, her grip steady on the wheel.
Evelyn’s thumb lingered on the screen as the video looped, Celestina’s head now pistoning furiously along William’s thick cock, her tongue flicking the underside while he buried his face deeper into her slick heat, nose grinding against her ass as he tongued her depths.
Drool cascaded down the girl’s chin, mixing with the precum beading at William’s tip, her throat working to swallow every inch.
In the mirror, the driver’s gaze darted back, stealing glances at the explicit loop. A telltale flush climbed her neck, her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel as the urban sprawl raced by. The co-driver squirmed in her seat, thighs pressing together, a subtle musk of her growing excitement seeping into the air.
“Men like him…” the co-driver whispered, awe threading her tone. “They’re the cornerstone of our society. And witnessing him so… virile, claiming his own sister without hesitation. It’s nothing short of revolutionary.”
Evelyn let out a soft chuckle, finally pocketing the device. The sounds of their coupling cut off abruptly, leaving only the electric whisper of the car.
“Revolutionary or otherwise, our duty is clear: it’s our job to ensure he thrives. No interruptions, no threats. The agency doesn’t tolerate failures. Especially not this time. We must make no mistake.”
“Yeah. All the preparations have been done.”
“Young Master Grant has been designated as S-Level, and his health and safety are deemed the utmost priority. However, what about the school? School starts next week. I still believe it’s necessary that he doesn’t allow him to go outside. It would be much safer.”
“…we don’t have any say in that.” Evelyn sighs. “He’s eager for school, and we’ve already stretched excuses to limit him to the district without sparking alarms. Fabricating more reasons to keep him from venturing outside is already impossible. My master is smart, he’ll know we’re trying to confine him, and if he does, he’ll not like it.”
“…that would do worse than good.”
“Yes, that is why we must ensure that every preparation is complete before next week. We could never keep him inside the district forever.”
“If only we could tuck him away somewhere secure, out of sight,” the co-driver—Donna—ventured, her words tumbling out in a wistful rush.
Evelyn’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing into a piercing glare that pinned Donna in place. The temperature in the car seemed to drop, the air thickening with unspoken tension.
“That’s a dangerous notion, Donna,” she said, her voice ice-cold and laced with warning. “We do not—under any circumstances—strip him of his freedom. Our code is unequivocal: men are not possessions to be caged or hidden like fragile items. They are individuals, with rights to live freely under our protection. Suggesting otherwise borders on violation of the Matriarchal Guard’s foundational conduct.”
Donna’s face drained of color, her hands twisting in her lap as panic flickered in her eyes. The driver shot a quick, stern glance through the mirror.
Evelyn leaned forward, her tone unyielding.
“Careful with words like that, Donna. Thinking like that reminds people of the old systems we promised to leave behind. If the High Council heard you say it, they’d review your position—maybe send you to perimeter duty or even remove you. We’re protecting the young master so he can grow stronger, not locking him away. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, ma’am,” Donna stammered, shrinking back as her face flushed. “I didn’t mean it… It just slipped out. I’m sorry. I know the rules—men’s safety and well-being first. Protect them, never control them. It won’t happen again.”
The driver cleared her throat, easing the tension.
“Understood. Eyes on the road. We’re almost there.”
Evelyn held Donna’s gaze a moment longer before leaning back, her warning still heavy in the air. In their organization, mistakes like that weren’t small.
Every rule existed to keep their fragile society balanced. Even a careless thought about hiding a man like William went against the values that set the Guard apart from the tyrants of the past. Those principles had taken generations to build.
The car fell into silence.
No one spoke of the video again, but the undercurrent of arousal from moments before had soured into focused resolve.
The vehicle slowed as they approached the agency’s massive perimeter. Holographic barriers shimmered like liquid light, scanning the car before parting with a soft chime. Beyond them rose tall towers of glass and reinforced alloy. Etched across their surfaces was the emblem of the Matriarchal Guard—a shield surrounding a single male figure, a symbol of protection and respect.
The sedan rolled to a quiet stop at the secured gate, its tires barely making a sound on the smooth pavement.
Evelyn stepped out with steady confidence. Her maid’s uniform stood out among the sharp uniforms of the guards, who quickly saluted. Above them, security drones drifted through the night sky, sweeping the area with faint blue scans.
Evelyn passed through the automatic doors into the busy lobby. The space buzzed with focused activity. Women worked at holographic displays, sorting through streams of biometric readings, threat reports, and family records glowing in soft blue light. Others spoke quickly into encrypted earpieces, coordinating patrols across the city.
Desks were covered with secure tablets filled with genetic data, relationship charts, and constant surveillance feeds—all centered on one mission: protecting the few men their society depended on.
The quiet hum of servers and low conversations filled the room. Every task, every screen, served the same purpose—keeping those men safe.
“Ms. Evelyn,” a young analyst called, standing up straight. The room grew quieter as several others rose from their seats. “Welcome back, ma’am. We’ve been waiting for your report.”
Evelyn gave a short nod, acknowledging the salutes with a raised hand. Even in a maid’s outfit, her presence carried authority. The frilled apron and cap couldn’t hide the firmness in her expression—or the hidden holster at her side.
“At ease,” she said calmly. “Continue your work.”
The analyst nodded quickly, already moving her hands through a floating interface to clear a path for Evelyn.
