Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 58: Flowers That Become More Beautiful Every Year

An immediate stir moved through the maids—an excited buzz that had them edging closer, their eyes brightening as if they’d just been told, ’Yes, there’s a chance after all!’

Some parted their lips, half-ready to voice the question that burned on all of their tongues: Does that mean we get a turn?

Cassius smiled, a knowing, almost teasing smile that seemed to see right through their excitement.

"Now, now, don’t get too excited." He said, his voice carrying a playful warning. "I can see it in your eyes, the way they lit up at the mention of punishment turning into reward." His words made the maids blush, embarrassed at how transparent their desires had become.

He continued, his tone becoming more serious.

"But just like any reward, it needs to be earned. You all must confess your sins, and yes..." He paused, letting the weight of his next words sink in. "...you will not only be confessing but also be kicked out of the mansion because of your mistakes."

The light in their eyes dimmed slightly at this, the reality of consequences setting in.

However, in their hearts, many were already prepared for this outcome.

They had come to see that their master had truly changed, and there was no doubt he would uncover their misdeeds himself if they didn’t confess.

They had braced themselves for the possibility of losing their positions, accepting it as the natural consequence of their actions and sighed, the sound a collective acknowledgment of their fate.

But then, another thought drifted across the maids faces all at once, something that made the corners of their lips quirk upward or a hint of color return to their cheeks.

’Wait. Didn’t he also say something about reward?’

With the memory of Isabelle’s reward still burning bright in their minds, hearts began to pound anew. If we’re on the verge of being thrown out anyway, more than one maid thought, ’We might as well enjoy ourselves first, right?’

Cassius noted the sudden ripple of renewed excitement. He caught the soft gasps, the faint flush creeping back into their cheeks.

One or two of them exchanged glances that practically shouted: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually okay with it, aren’t you?

He arched a brow, half-amused. "I see you’ve reached some sort of...understanding." His voice carried a wry edge, as though even he couldn’t fully believe how quickly they’d gone from despondent to elated again. "Let me guess: you’re all perfectly willing to talk if it means you can...experience what Isabelle did, is that right?"

Dead silence. Not one dared to speak a word, but the collective flush deepened, and that was answer enough.

"Huh." Cassius said quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So... just to be clear: you’re going to willingly march up to me, spill out every skeleton in your closet, accept being tossed out of the mansion, and in return, you want—what, exactly? A demonstration of my talents?"

He almost winced at his own phrasing, but the group of maids looked more thrilled than offended.

A smattering of timid nods and barely contained stares told him all he needed to know.

This is insane, he thought, mind flickering back to his plan’s original intent. He’d wanted them uneasy and penitent—but it seemed that though they were uneasy, they were also very, very eager.

A hush settled over the hall after Cassius’s wry comment about ’handling everyone’, though his tone suggested the conversation was far from over.

In that small pause, one of the maids stepped forward who was also the head maid of the mansion, also the same one who scoffed at her master and told everyone how incapable he was, even that thought has completely been erased from her mind after what she had just seen.

She wore thin-framed glasses and had her black hair pinned into a neat bun, giving her an air of stern propriety. Yet the soft tremor in her voice told a different story—she was clearly as nervous as the others.

"M-Master Cassius." She began, pushing her glasses up her nose in a slightly anxious gesture. "I know this isn’t something we should be asking when you’ve already been so generous with traitors like us…But if we go through with this, what are we supposed to tell our…our husbands and parents?" Her cheeks colored immediately at the question. "I mean..." She added in a rush. "...we’re about to do something we’re not exactly supposed to do. And if word gets out…"

A few of the other maids nodded vigorously, clearly having the same concern. They leaned closer, waiting to hear Cassius’s response, as though each word he spoke might absolve them of an undeniable moral predicament.

We have men at home—men who might never forgive us, many of them thought, their hearts thumping in apprehension.

Cassius chuckled, a sound that was both dismissive and reassuring.

"Well, you can say that you were simply forced to do what you had to do by your young master, asI’m willing to take all the blame myself." He stated, his tone light but his words heavy with implication. "What sort of husbands would they be if they got mad at their wives for what happened here, and not at the perpetrator himself?"

His shocking response made the maids look at him with a new kind of admiration, seeing him take the bullet for their desires, even if those desires were fueled by their own curiosity and lust.

The head maid’s eyes went wide. She certainly hadn’t expected him to take responsibility so easily—particularly after all his efforts to scare them into submission.

Her heart fluttered with a strange mix of gratitude and guilt. ’He’s taking the blame for us?’ She thought, recalling just how…enthusiastic they had been despite their show of reluctance.

"Master…" She ventured hesitantly. "that’s…quite generous." The faint waver in her tone implied as if she were asking if it were alright.

Cassius shrugged again, though a small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips. "It’s no grand sacrifice, believe me. Besides, if your husbands are half as grumpy as I suspect, they’ll be more than happy to beat on me rather than blame you." Despite the humor in his words, he exuded a certain confidence, as if unconcerned by the potential fallout.

A ripple of soft, almost reverent sighs spread through the maids. They might not have spoken it aloud, but in that moment, they saw Cassius in a different light—a man prepared to stand in the line of fire for them, even if the entire thing was half their idea in the first place.

Their respect for him surged, and some felt a pang of regret that they’d dismissed him so easily before. Yes, he’d once been a wastrel who wasted his nights drinking, but perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

...But in fact it wasn’t just that he was willing to shoulder the blame just because he didn’t care, but mostly because he was going to use this incident to spread his atrocities, which was the same as spreading the gospels of the Goddess of Debauchery.

The older maid adjusted her glasses once more, cheeks still aflame. "I see… Then…" She paused, glancing at the other maids who were looking on expectantly. "I…I have another question, but…it’s a bit inappropriate." She confessed, her voice dropping to a near-whisper.

Cassius’s eyebrows rose. "After everything you’ve witnessed today..." He teased lightly. "...can anything really be that inappropriate?" He made a sweeping gesture, indicating the very obvious evidence of their earlier activities still lingering in the room. "Go on, speak."

The maid pursed her lips, summoning her courage.

"You said that… we could come forward one by one, confess our sins…and, well, receive this ’reward.’ " She cleared her throat, glancing meaningfully at Isabelle’s resting form in the chair. Her voice nearly trembled with embarrassment as she asked. "That means everyone present, right? It’s not just…I mean…W-What I’m trying to say is that w-would you even be able to handle all of us?"

She got the words out in a rush, cheeks glowing scarlet.

Meanwhile, the other maids found themselves holding their breath, eyes shining with equal parts anticipation and bashfulness. Several sets of hands twisted in their aprons.

A few exchanged looks that practically screamed, ’Yes, we’re dying to know too!’

Cassius’s grin turned into a big, almost evil smile as he pointed at a stack of papers nearby.

"Well, the only way you’ll find out if I can handle all of you is if you confess your sins and come forward to get the reward you deserve." He said, his voice a mix of challenge and seduction. "So, if you truly want to know how capable your young master is, I think you better get to writing and come forward to experience exactly what Isabelle went through."

This statement sent a shiver through the room, the maids now looking forward to what was to come next, their minds racing with the possibilities, their bodies already responding to the promise of pleasure.

The maids exchanged glances, each one silently communicating the gravity of what they were about to do, but there was no objection. And then with a nod from the head maid, they moved to the table where the stack of papers awaited.

One by one, they began to write down their confessions, detailing their sins, their faces a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

Cassius watched this with a wry smile, his plan having spiraled into something far beyond his initial intentions, but he was still on track to reach his end goal.

His gaze then softened as he looked down at Isabelle, still sleeping peacefully, her beauty untainted by the chaos around her.

With gentle care, he lifted her from the chair and carried her to a nearby sofa, laying her down with the tenderness of someone cherishing a precious artifact.

He covered her with a silk blanket, the material whispering against her skin, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. In her sleep, she let out a giggle, a sound that was both innocent and joyful, a stark contrast to the room’s earlier fervor.

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But his tender smile faded as he walked away, as the weight of her finding out about the punishment he had prepared for her sins against the old Cassius.

’She’ll probably hate me for what’s going to happen later on.’ He thought, shaking his head as if to dismiss the inevitability of it all.

But he had to face it; it was part of the path he had chosen.

Cassius didn’t brood too long as the smile on his face quickly returned as he strode back into the hall and found that every maid had finished writing their confessions.

They stood in a loose semicircle before the chair he was sitting on, faces flushed and eyes lowered in shy anticipation. With a wry tilt of his head, he walked towards them and remarked, "Quite eager, aren’t we? I can’t believe you all managed to scribble essays in barely a minute." He sat back in his chair, gesturing for the papers to be handed over.

The head maid stepped forward, presenting the bundle of confessions before retreating to her place among the others, watching intently as Cassius began to read. His eyes raced through the papers at inhuman speeds and didn’t take him long to skim through them all, his eyes scanning the pages with an amused, almost disbelieving expression.

When he finished, he looked up at them, his smile broadening.

"I’m surprised." He said, his tone light with mockery. "I thought for sure there would be many more sins, given how you were all hesitating and how the male servants were literally stealing from the treasury. But it turns out, 90% of you were just stealing cooking supplies for your families, and the other 10% is idle gossip about what I eat for meals and what clothes I wear daily, which you’ve been informing to the main household and other external parties."

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face.

"These are offenses, yes...And they most definitely would make you lose your jobs, if found out." He continued. "But you could simply confess to the main household and likely be let off with the lightest of punishments." He teased, his eyes dancing with mischief. "So do you really want to go through with the ’punishment’ I have, instead of simply getting off easy with the other route I mentioned?" He posed the question with an air of knowing exactly what their answer would be.

The room was silent, no maid spoke up or moved to agree with his suggestion. Their silence was loud, a clear indication of their choice.

They had come this far, driven by a mix of curiosity, desire, and perhaps a wish to experience something extraordinary, something that wouldn’t be found in a simple confession to the household.

Cassius gave a nod of acknowledgment, his smile now one of satisfaction.

"Very well then." He said, his voice low and resonant. "Let’s proceed with the rewards you’ve all so eagerly signed up for."

"...And to start it all off why don’t you reward me first by stripping down and letting me witness the glorious sight of your naked bodies, so that we can move on."

The maids were visibly flustered by the command, their cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

For those without partners which was only a small number since most of the maids were mature women, this was a moment of uncharted territory, a first exposure to another man’s gaze in such an intimate way.

And for those with partners, the act felt even more scandalous, given the strict doctrines of the Holy Church that preached chastity and loyalty, even if their partners often didn’t reciprocate the respect they deserved.

In this patriarchal society, where women without high status or elemental affinity were often overlooked, this moment felt like a rebellion against the norms that bound them.

Their hesitation was evident, each maid grappling with the societal implications of what they were about to do.

But as they met Cassius’s gaze, there was something in his eyes—a gentleness, an understanding—that seemed to wrap them in warmth, making them feel oddly comforted and emboldened.

With hearts steeled by this unexpected reassurance, they began to undress.

One by one, the crisp, streched fabric of their maid outfits fell to the ground, like leaves surrendering to autumn. Each piece of clothing dropped with a soft rustle, revealing more of their skin to the cool air of the room.

Their movements were initially shy, fingers trembling as they unbuttoned and unzipped, but as each layer was shed, a sense of liberation seemed to take hold.

First, the blouses were peeled away, baring delicate shoulders and the enticing swell of breasts, still modestly cloaked by sheer, lacy bras that did little to hide the soft, inviting curves beneath. Each piece of fabric fell with a whisper, hinting at the lushness waiting to be fully revealed.

The skirts dropped next, cascading down over hips that rocked ever so slightly with the motion, pooling at their feet.

Left in just their underwear, the contrast was striking—lace and satin in colors that whispered of seduction, against the austere black and white they had previously worn.

Their bodies were now canvases of desire; some in delicate pastels that seemed to blush against their skin, others in bold, dark hues that spoke of deeper, hidden appetites.

And then they paused there, in their underwear, a sea of nervous glances and breaths held in anticipation. The room was filled with the silent acknowledgment of what was about to happen, each maid standing in her own little world of vulnerability and defiance.

Then, the head maid, with a deep breath that seemed to echo in the quiet room, stepped forward. Her hands moved to her bra, unclasping it with a decisiveness that spoke of her resolve.

Her breasts, freed from their confines, were a sight of natural beauty, full and slightly swaying with each movement. She then hooked her fingers into her panties, sliding them down with a grace that belied her nervousness, revealing everything to the room.

This act of boldness was like a signal, igniting a chain reaction.

One by one, the maids followed, each movement a dance of seduction. The air was thick with the sound of fabric sliding against skin, punctuated by the slight gasps of excitement and trepidation as each piece of underwear was peeled away.

Breasts of all sizes were revealed—small and perky, full and heavy—all crowned with areolas of varying widths, some like tiny rosebuds, others wide and dark, nipples hardening in the cool air, under the lascivious gaze of their master.

Hips curved into waists, some slim and delicate, others thick and voluptuous, each line and curve telling a story of feminine beauty. As they stepped out of their last layer of modesty, thighs parted, showcasing a spectrum of butts—from slender and firm to round and plush.

And their hidden gardens down below...Some had kept a natural tuft of pubic hair, a dark shadow accentuating their femininity, while others were smooth and bare, the skin silken and inviting.

Each maid, with her unique attributes, contributed to an erotic tapestry of womanhood, a celebration of the diverse beauty of women. The room was a gallery of desire, where every body part, from the curve of a breast to the arch of a back, was an ode to the sensuality and allure of the female form.

Unfortunately, many of the maids weren’t proud of their own bodies, especially the older ones who had grown to see themselves in the same light as the head maid.

She, with her plump figure that she didn’t particularly admire, felt a pang of self-consciousness and because of that she apologized to her master, her voice laced with a mix of embarrassment and humor.

"Please excuse the sight, Young Master Cassius. You must have seen so many better women because of your status. We can hardly compare and must stain your eyes with such unseemly sights." She said with a wry smile, her arms moving to cover her body in a gesture of shame.

Her words echoed the sentiments of several others, who, despite the erotic display and the acceptance of their own nudity, felt the weight of societal expectations and personal insecurities.

Their laughter was nervous, their apologies a blend of jest and genuine humility, as they stood before him, each grappling with their own perceptions of beauty and worth in the eyes of someone they believed to be accustomed to perfection.

They stood there, expecting Cassius to respond with a dismissive comment or perhaps a light chuckle, brushing off their self-deprecation.

But instead, he simply stared at them, his gaze intense and heated, as if he could see through their insecurities right to the core of their being. This look, filled with an unexpected passion, made them even more flustered; none of them had ever experienced such a gaze, one that seemed to appreciate rather than judge.

The tension in the room reached a peak, the air filled with anticipation and vulnerability. Then, with a solemn expression, Cassius broke the silence, his voice firm yet gentle.

"Stop covering yourselves up. Show yourselves to me openly."

His command sent a wave of fluster through the group. Their insecurities were still fresh, their bodies feeling exposed under such scrutiny, so the head maid, gathering her courage, opened her mouth to protest, perhaps to shield her fellow maids from further discomfort.

But Cassius was quick to silence her with a simple wave of his hand, his eyes never wavering. "Do as I say." He instructed.

Seeing that their master was so adamant and they had no other choice, they complied. Arms that had been protecting their modesty slowly fell to their sides, revealing themselves fully once again.

A tense silence followed Cassius’s command, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation.

The maids could feel his gaze trailing over every inch of skin, lingering on the delicate slopes of shoulders, the gentle curves of hips, and the soft plushness of bellies they had always thought unappealing.

Even those who possessed firmer bodies couldn’t help a flush of color staining their cheeks—it was one thing to be undressed, but quite another to be so openly seen.

Just when it seemed the tension might become overwhelming, Cassius’s stern expression shifted, the corners of his lips quirked upward, and a glimmer of warmth lit his eyes.

"That’s more like it." He said, quietly but with unmistakable approval.

The sudden change in his demeanor sent another ripple through the maids—part relief, part astonishment.

They’d braced themselves for the next command, something that might test their fragile confidence further. Instead, Cassius’s voice was almost gentle, laced with what could only be described as genuine admiration.

He then let his gaze roam over the group, pausing on the older maids who had long considered themselves past their ’prime’ and when he spoke again after doing so, his tone was calm yet carried enough weight that every ear strained to catch his words.

"I know that many of you have served in this mansion for years. You’ve witnessed its trials and joys, and you’ve given it your best in return."

A few of the older maids exchanged glances, uncertain where he was going with this, though their hearts pounded at the mere mention of their age and years of service.

"You probably believe..." Cassius continued. "...that your youth has fled. That you can’t compare to the so-called younger girls who share these halls. And you say it with such...resignation."

Several faces fell—nostalgic smiles tinged with sadness. They had already accepted this narrative, told to them by society, by their husbands or families, and even by their own reflections in the mirror.

One of them let out a wry chuckle, cheeks warming at being called out so directly.

But Cassius didn’t pause. Instead, he looked directly into the eyes of a maid with delicate lines etched around her mouth, then another whose body had grown softer with the weight of time and childbearing and said, "But you’re only half right."

That earned a few startled blinks. Hesitance flickered among them, as if bracing for some carefully worded dismissal.

"The truth is..." Cassius said. "..yes, you have changed—just as a flower does each year."

"It grows stronger roots, richer petals. And when it blooms, sometimes it carries the experience of storms weathered and sunbaths enjoyed. But that doesn’t make it any less beautiful. In fact..." He paused, letting the silence stretch, forcing each woman to really listen. "...it makes it more vibrant and alluring than ever."

A rush of heat tinted the cheeks of those older maids, and even the younger ones felt an unexpected twist in their chests at hearing such unabashed praise.

Cassius continued, his voice low yet resonant.

"Some of you have lines on your faces that speak of laughter and tears. Others have curves or softness you think is unwanted. But all I see is a blend of experiences—and it only makes my admiration for you grow." He swept an arm, gesturing for them to look at each other. "If only you’d let yourselves see it, too. You’re hardly ’past your prime...You’re actually in it."

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the group, but it was accompanied by faint, hopeful smiles—like sparks of light in a room that had long been dimmed by self-doubt. No one spoke, as they were too busy grappling with the honesty in his voice and the raw sincerity in his eyes.

The head maid, who had been the first to disrobe, felt her heart clench at his words.

She’d grown accustomed to teasing remarks about her age and weight—jests she’d waved off with feigned amusement but which had slowly chipped away at her confidence.

But here was Cassius, claiming her body, her face, her every perceived flaw, were all part of a unique and growing beauty which made her eyes go wide.

He looked at her directly then, and there was no guile, no pity. Only a quiet, intense admiration that made her mouth go dry.

His next words rang in the hush.

"Let me tell you that each one of you has something singular and precious that sets you apart...It’s time you realized that, too.

A blush spread across her cheeks. In that moment, she found herself swallowing a knot of emotion.

She stood straighter, letting her arms fall at her sides, unconsciously mirroring the posture of pride in his words.

It was a seemingly small shift, but it felt monumental.

A younger maid, perhaps no more than nineteen, also felt a revelation at his words as she peeked at an older colleague’s face.

She realized, that she had never truly looked at her fellow maids before—always seeing them as older, more experienced, but never as women with their own soft allure.

But now, in the midst of Cassius’s words, she found herself noticing the gentle, dignified beauty of a mature woman in a way that startled and inspired her.

And it wasn’t just her or the head maid, as all around her, the other maids followed suit, their postures becoming less guarded, the arms that had been crossed over chests or bellies slowly falling away.

Shoulders squared and chins lifted just a bit higher.

Even those whose bodies had once made them feel ashamed—scars, stretch marks, the softness and shapes they believed undesirable—were standing with new confidence.

As though, for the first time, they were hearing and believing that they, too, were worthy of admiration...

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Quick reminder not to hate on the maids, as they have their own reasons for acting the way they did to their master at the beginning and I’ll just say it’s because of a man who had to eat a whole lot of salt.

Also the NSFW illustrations for this scene and the NSFW illustrations of the head maid are all available in the discord...Check them out!