Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!

Cassius, seeing the mix of awe and innocence in her eyes, decided to play along, his smirk broadening. "Oh, this?" He gestured nonchalantly towards his imposing erection. "I suppose I'm just about average where I come from."

Isabelle's eyes widened even further, disbelief mixing with the shock.

"Average?" She echoed, her voice tinged with suspicion as her hand gently continued its exploratory journey along his length. She could barely circle her fingers around him, her touch light and tentative, as if she feared she might break something so large.

"Yes, average...Nothing to take notice of." Cassius reaffirmed, his tone teasing, enjoying the embarrassment written all over her face and the way her eyes darted between his face and his cock. "But I must say, you seem quite taken by it, don't you?"

Hearing his words, she bit her lower lip, her hand moving a little more confidently now, the curiosity overcoming her initial hesitation.

"I...I've never...seen anything like this, Young Master. It's not just the size, it's..." She paused, searching for words, her fingers tracing one of the prominent veins. "It's everything. The thickness, the veins, the...the way it feels."

"And how does it feel, Isabelle? Do tell me more about how it feels to you." Cassius chuckled, his voice a low, sultry rumble.

Her face was now a deep shade of crimson, her breath quickening as she continued to explore.

"It's hard, yet there's a warmth...a-and it's so...so alive. I can feel it pulse under my touch." She looked up at him, her eyes full of questions and wonder. "Does it always feel like this?"

"Only when it's eager and ready to bite..." Cassius replied, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "...and it seems quite eager for your attention, doesn't it?"

Her hand stopped for a moment, her gaze locked with his, the moment charged with an electric tension. She slowly resumed her gentle strokes, her movements more deliberate now, as if she was trying to understand this new world she had entered.

"I-I feel like I'm touching something forbidden, something I shouldn't...But I can't help it." She said in awe and wonder.

While Isabelle explored this new, bewildering intimacy with Cassius, Edmund sat frozen, his heart a tumultuous sea of emotions.

The thought of his beloved, her hands on another man, especially one as vile as Cassius, was like a dagger twisting in his gut. His hands clenched into fists under the table, the nails digging into his palms, drawing blood, but he felt none of it.

The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in his heart.

He wanted to scream, to leap across the table and pull her away from that monster, but the weight of Cassius's power and the knowledge of what it would mean for both of them held him back.

Cassius, his voice thick with a mix of command and arousal, finally broke through the tension, "You've had enough time to just look, Isabelle. Time to do something about it, don't you think?"

Isabelle's face burnt a deeper shade of red, the pink saturation spreading down her neck as she was caught between embarrassment and an intense, confusing arousal.

Her hand, which had been tentatively exploring, now trembled with a mix of fear and excitement. She began to stroke him, her grip initially clumsy, her movements jerky.

"Stroke!♡~ Rub!♡~ Slide!♡~ Glide!♡~ Press!♡

The sight of her struggling only seemed to amuse Cassius more. "Come on, you can do better than that." He taunted, his voice both teasing and demanding. "Show me your skills as a dutiful maid."

Flustered yet driven by an odd sense of duty mixed with curiosity, Isabelle's technique started to improve.

"Swipe!♡~ Brush!♡~ Slip!♡~ Slick!♡ Swirl!♡~"

Her hand tightened around his massive cock, her fingers finding their place. She began to stroke more confidently, her pace quickening as she adapted to the feel of him. The head of his cock glistened with precum, lubricating her movements, making her strokes smoother, more rhythmic.

"Drip!♡~ Sploosh!♡~ Gloop!♡~ Splurt!♡~"

Cassius watched her with a mixture of pleasure and command, his eyes locked on her face, enjoying the transformation from innocence to something more knowing.

"That's it, there you go." He murmured, his voice now a husky whisper of approval. He leaned back, giving her more space, his cock fully erect and throbbing under her touch.

"Squish!♡~ Splish!♡~ Glug!♡~ Plop!♡~"

Isabelle, despite the degradation, found herself oddly empowered. Her strokes became more deliberate, her hand twisting slightly at the head, then sliding back down to the base with a newfound confidence.

"Slosh!♡~ Plop!♡~ Drip!♡~ Schlurp!♡~"

Her initial awkwardness gave way to a rhythm that elicited small grunts of pleasure from Cassius.

"Gloop!♡~ Squelch!♡~ Thwap!♡~ Splat!♡~"

The room was filled with the sounds of her hand working him, the slick, wet noises of her strokes, the occasional sharp intake of breath from Cassius.

Edmund, bound by his rage and helplessness, could only hear all this while his eyes remained fixed on his plate, his heart breaking with each stroke, each sound, witnessing the perversion of their love.

Cassius, now fully immersed in the moment, let out a low groan, his hips subtly moving to meet her hand. "You see, Isabelle..." He said, his voice thick with lust. "...sometimes all you need is a bit of encouragement."

Isabelle, her rhythm now steady, felt a strange thrill at the control she was exerting, however forced it might be.

"Slosh!♡~ Plop!♡~ Drip!♡~ Schlurp!♡~"

Her strokes were no longer just an act of obedience but something of defiance, learning to wield her newfound power in this twisted game.

"Drip!♡~ Sploosh!♡~ Gloop!♡~ Splurt!♡~"

She gulped, but her eyes had a determined glint as she watched the effect she had on Cassius, feeling his cock pulse in her grip, a testament to her growing skill.

"Squish!♡~ Splish!♡~ Glug!♡~ Plop!♡~"

The explicit nature of the act, the raw sounds of flesh against flesh, the sight of Cassius's pleasure, all painted a picture of a moment both corrupt and strangely intimate, a dark ballet of power, submission, and awakening desire.

Cassius's hand slid through Isabelle's hair, his fingers tangling in her soft locks as he watched her, his cock standing thick and proud in her grasp.

His voice, smooth as silk but dripping with authority, then cut through the heated air as he said, "It's about time you put that pretty little mouth to better use, Isabelle. Don't worry about taking it all in yet. Start slow....Just lick it—like a popsicle."

Isabelle's hand, still wrapped around his length, moved in a slow, dazed rhythm. Her strokes were unsteady, her heart beating like a horse as she gazed at the impressive sight before her. A faint, unfamiliar scent wafted from him—earthy, masculine, and oddly enticing.

But when she heard her young master's words, she was thrown for a loop and was left confused. And seeing as she couldn't find the answer to her question no matter how much she thought about it, she decided to ask her master himself.

"My lord...Forgive me for my ignorance, but what is a popsicle?" Her soft voice broke the tension, laced with honest bewilderment.

Cassius froze for a moment, his brow lifting in genuine surprise. A grin spread across his face, the sharp edge of his teeth glinting as amusement flickered in his dark eyes.

"You don't know what a popsicle is, Isabelle?" He asked, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "It's a frozen treat. Sweet, cold, something you lick to savour. Like ice cream on a stick...Wait, don't tell me you've never had ice cream either."

She blinked, shaking her head slowly, her strokes faltering as she whispered, "Ice cream? I...I don't know what that is, my lord." Her curiosity was evident, mingling with the heat in her cheeks as she dared to glance up at him.

Cassius tilted his head back, laughing softly, a sound both indulgent and teasing as he realised that the inhabitants of this world don't know about something as simple and delicious as ice cream…