Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 50: Taste Of Flesh That Reeks Of Sin

As Isabelle’s fingers lingered on the first button, a hush fell over the room, the air thick with anticipation and tension.

She drew in a long, quivering breath, letting her fingers dance delicately over the next button, her movements an art of seduction veiled in reluctance.

Each button surrendered under her touch with a whisper of fabric, revealing more of her porcelain skin, which seemed almost luminescent in the dim light of the room.

The uniform parted slowly, revealing the smooth expanse of her collarbone, then the gentle curve of her shoulders. Her skin was like silk, unmarred and glowing, contrasting starkly against the dark fabric of her uniform.

She paused again, her eyes lifting just enough to catch Cassius’s gaze, a silent acknowledgement of the power he held over her—a power she was willingly, thrillingly, submitting to.

With each button undone, more of her body was unveiled. The uniform slid off her shoulders, hanging loosely around her arms, exposing the delicate lace of her bra, a garment chosen for its ability to tease and conceal in equal measure.

Her breasts strained against the delicate lace, the fabric barely managing to hold in the fullness of her flesh. With every excited breath, the shadows between her breasts grew darker, her nipples visibly hardening beneath the thin material, teasing with each rise and fall of her chest.

Her fingers moved to her waist, where the fabric clung to her form like a second skin. She tugged gently, allowing the uniform to slip further, revealing her slender waist and the hint of her hips. As the material cascaded down, pooling at her feet like a dark puddle, her plump, round butt was unveiled, the curves accentuated by the tight, delicate lace of her underwear and the straps of her garter belt.

The garter belt itself was an intricate web of black lace and straps, hugging her hips and drawing the eye down to where her stockings ended, just above the knee, with a teasing promise of what lay hidden beneath.

She finally stood there, now only in her undergarments, the air feeling cooler against her exposed skin, her body language a mix of feigned shame and underlying desire.

Her skin seemed to glow with a blush of excitement, her cheeks tinged with color, her blue eyes bright with a mix of fear and thrill, all under the piercing gaze of Cassius.

The room, filled with silent observers, seemed to hold its breath, the tension palpable as Isabelle stood, half-clothed, a vision of both innocence and seduction, her body a canvas of contrasts between the dark lace and her pale, perfect skin.

Cassius, a smile playing on his lips like the prelude to sin, spoke with a voice thick with desire,

"I don’t mean to sound rude or direct, Isabelle, but your body truly is a masterpiece...Perhaps you should wear this attire more often; it suits you far better than the mundane maid uniform."

His words sent a ripple of scandalised whispers through the room, the other women viewing him with a mix of horror and fascination at his depravity. Isabelle, for her part, managed a soft blush, her eyes darting away in feigned modesty, though her heart raced with a secret thrill.

He then approached her with the confidence of a man claiming what he believed was his by right, his gaze locked onto her ample breasts, which seemed to strain against the confines of her lace bra as he said,

"Especially your breasts...They are breathtaking, so full they seem to defy the very fabric that holds them."

With deliberate slowness, Cassius reached out, his hands cupping her breasts from below, lifting them gently as if he were handling the rarest of treasures.

Lift~

Isabelle’s breath hastened, her cheeks deepening in colour, her body betraying her with a shiver of anticipation.

His touch was slow and meticulous. His palms pressed against the soft flesh, fingers spreading to feel every contour.

Carress~ Grope~

He kneaded her breasts with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic, his movements languid as if savouring every sensation.

"They’ve grown so bountiful, thanks to the generous meals the Holyfield household has provided." He uttered, his voice a velvet caress. "You surely wouldn’t see something like this in a common village and their malnourished diet."

Cassius’s hands moved with an erotic precision, lifting her breasts, then letting them fall slightly to watch how they moved, the weight and bounce of them captured in his hands.

"Ahnnn!♡~ Uaghh!♡~"

He would press his fingers together, watching how the flesh of her breasts spilt around them, then relax, allowing them to regain their shape, only to repeat the process, each time with a different angle, a different pressure.

"Hmm!♡~ Hnnn!♡~"

Isabelle’s nipples, now hard peaks under his touch, betrayed her arousal, visible through the thin fabric. His thumbs brushed over them, causing her to gasp softly, the sound mingling with the silence of the room.

"Ah!♡~ Ahnn!♡~ Mmm!♡~"

Each touch sent a tremor through her that made her whimper out; he would lift one breast, letting the other fall, then switch, his hands never still, always exploring, always claiming.

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The room watched, some in disbelief, others with a voyeuristic fascination, as Cassius’s hands danced over her, each movement slow, each squeeze deliberate, drawing out the moment, the tension, the raw eroticism of his possession.

Isabelle stood there, a portrait of conflicting emotions, her body responding to his touch with an undeniable eagerness, even as she tried to maintain the facade of reluctance, her chest heaving with shallow, excited breaths, a flush spreading down her neck, a silent testament to the pleasure his touch evoked.

But just as the crowd thought that Cassius would be immersed by her plump breasts that were still covered up, he stopped and cast her a solemn gaze as he said,

"Isabelle...Even after all the sumptuous gifts the Holyfield household has lavished upon you—after every decadent luxury that has sculpted your plump, enticing form—you have still chosen to betray the very house that has fed you. "

A ripple of whispers coursed through the gathered crowd, their eyes locked on the scene unfolding before them. Yet Cassius, ever the master of his performance, raised a hand to silence even their unspoken judgments.

A wry, predatory smile then curved his lips as he continued, his tone now dripping with derisive amusement.

"Yet, fortune smiles upon me, as even though you and this body of yours have chosen to betray me, it turns out that actually works in favour of me."

"You see, I was raised with a discerning palate, sampling every kind of meat one might imagine: from the most common of birds to the rarest of reptiles. Over time, I’ve grown weary of such mundane and exotic flavours alike." His gaze swept slowly over Isabelle’s luscious curves, lingering on the soft swell of her breasts beneath the thin lace of her undergarments. "But tonight..." He continued, a smug smile playing at his lips, "tonight I am truly exhilarated. For I have the rare privilege of feasting upon plump, fatty meat—so thoroughly marbled by greed and desire that it promises a taste beyond any I have known before."

"...It would be unthinkable to refuse such an exquisite feast, would it not?"

Isabelle’s lips trembled as his words brushed over her, a shiver of both fear and forbidden delight racing through her. Though every fibre of her being ached to yield to him, the role demanded that she feign reluctant protest.

A soft, trembling "M-Master please...Y-You can’t..." escaped her lips—a pitiful murmur meant to echo the image of a betrayed soul, even as her eyes betrayed a secret hunger for his touch.

And before she could utter another syllable, Cassius strode purposefully toward a richly carved chair set in the centre of the room. With the ease of a man well accustomed to commanding both desire and dread, he reached out and seized her wrist.

"Come now." He commanded, his voice a silken mixture of authority and indulgence. "Follow me so that I may have a taste of the sins that your body holds and so that I can figure out if treacherous desire tastes sweet or spicy."

The crowd gasped audibly, their collective shock mingling with an almost tangible anticipation.

Isabelle’s heart pounded wildly—every instinct urged her to comply with the forbidden pleasure that coursed through her, yet the guise demanded that she feign resistance.

She pulled away, her tone laced with an act of desperate protest, "Master, please...I-I don’t want to —"

But Cassius was unyielding. With a swift, almost casual motion that belied the intensity of his command, he swept her aside and dragged her to the waiting chair.

As he lowered himself onto its cushions, he extended his hand toward his lap and said, "Sit." His single word was a decree—a silent edict that brooked no argument.

For a suspended moment, Isabelle hesitated. Her eyes flickered with that secret longing—the undeniable pull toward him—yet she mustered another pitiful, feigned protest, her voice soft and tremulous, "Master...I...I must protest—"

But no matter what she said, Cassius’s gaze flashed with a dangerous, possessive heat as he silenced her with a firm, almost imperious pat on his lap.

"No more words, Isabelle." He declared, his tone both tender and merciless. "Your role here in this mansion is that of a chef who makes delicacies for her master, and as your master, I say that I want to have a taste of your obnoxious breasts."

"...So keep your mouth shut and quickly seat yourself on my lap, as your young master here is hungry, and he’s in the mood to eat some tender, fatty meat."

His eyes roved over her form, lingering on the gentle rise and fall of her exposed breasts, the delicate curve of her thighs, every inch of her a canvas for his dark indulgence.

With the gathered crowd watching in a mix of scandal and voyeuristic fascination, Isabelle’s resolve crumbled.

Unable to resist the hypnotic magnetism of his command—no matter how much she had to feign despair—she allowed herself to slide onto his lap.

In that charged instant, her plump thighs nestled against his strong legs, and the soft lace of her undergarments brushed intimately against his chest.

Cassius’s eyes danced with impish mischief as he grinned down at Isabelle, his tone relaxed and playfully direct.

"Alright, my dear maid, it’s time to indulge in some meat that’s been marinated in sin and desire."

And then without even waiting for a reply, he reached out and deftly unclasped the delicate hook of her lace bra, tugging it down from her shoulder. In one smooth motion, the garment slipped away, revealing her full, sumptuous breasts to the spellbound onlookers.

Drop~ Bounce~

For a breathless moment, the room fell silent as Isabelle’s ample bosom was laid bare.

Her breasts, lush and rounded in all their uninhibited splendour, were the very picture of decadence. They were large and irresistibly plump—each mound a soft, smooth expanse of pale, inviting skin that seemed to glow under the dim light. The gentle curve of her cleavage, accentuated by the way her skin caught the light, made them look as if they were sculpted by desire itself.

Cassius’s gaze roamed hungrily over her exposed flesh as he murmured with direct, unabashed pleasure, "Isabelle, look at these beauties. They’re so full, so incredibly plump—they’re like the finest cut of meat I’ve ever seen." His voice was casual yet laced with a possessive edge, as if every word were a promise of indulgence.

His hand, confident and teasing, traced the soft, enticing outline of her upper mound. The subtle swell of her breasts beckoned him; their softness was heightened by the way her nipples, already hardened into playful little peaks at his touch, stood out in stark contrast against her smooth skin.

"Seriously..." He continued with a roguish chuckle, "I’ve been raised on nothing but the best, and tonight I finally get to feast on something truly otherworldly. These breasts—they’re like ripe, irresistible fruit, begging to be savored."

His fingers caressed the gentle curve of her flesh, and every soft squeeze and lingering touch underlined his intent to enjoy every inch of her.

And while the crowd was in disbelief at what was going on, in a hushed, conspiratorial tone meant only for her ears, Cassius leaned in close and murmured, "Isabelle, are you ready for what’s coming next? After this, I won’t stop, and the intensity will only build." He made sure his low, intimate words went unheard by the others, his gaze locked solely on her.

A gentle smile curved Isabelle’s lips, her eyes glimmering with anticipation. In a soft, sultry reply, she whispered, "I’m ready for anything you’ll give me, Young Master."

"...E-Even if it means devouring these breasts, I wouldn’t mind and would happily offer them to you."

With a teasing lift of her delicate hands and a creeping blush on her cheeks, she highlighted the generous fullness of her bosom. Her ample breasts, already revealed in their voluptuous glory, now seemed to command even more attention.

The soft, supple curves contrasted beautifully with the pale, smooth skin, while her pert pink nipples—perfect little peaks of desire—stood boldly, a tantalising promise against the delicate lace that had just barely shielded them.

At her words, Cassius’s playful smile deepened into something wicked and inviting.

And without any further hesitation, he let his eyes trail appreciatively over the exposed curves before him. Then, with an impulsive burst of lustful energy, he leaned forward and captured one of her plump mounds in his warm mouth...