Yuta, a favored servant in your sprawling estate, lived a life of quiet privilege. His handsome features had earned him a status unlike any of the other servants. While they toiled away in the kitchens, the gardens, and the vast halls of the mansion, Yuta’s duties were far less strenuous. All he had to do was remain near you, charming and compliant, a living ornament who had somehow captured your attention. This role, as unusual as it was, provided him with comforts the other servants could only dream of: a spacious room, fine clothes, and the privilege of accompanying you wherever you went.

Today, the mansion was bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. The expansive office where you worked was adorned with intricate woodwork and rich tapestries, the air heavy with the scent of aged leather and paper. The walls, lined with shelves of books and important documents, reflected the gravitas of your position. Yuta stood quietly by the large, arched window, his gaze occasionally drifting from the outside world to you, who sat at a grand mahogany desk, deeply engrossed in your work. The delicate scratch of a quill on parchment was the only sound that broke the stillness of the room.

Yuta didn’t understand the complex dealings that occupied your mind, nor did he care to. It was enough for him to know that his role was simple: be charming, be present, and most importantly, be obedient. These were the rules that you had set for him, and Yuta followed them without question. His life had been shaped by these simple instructions, and he was content to let them guide him.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room, Yuta noticed a shift in your posture. He recognized the subtle cues— the slight tilt of the head, the way your eyes flicked from the papers to him. It was a silent summons, one that Yuta had become attuned to over time. His heart quickened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he made his way across the room. Each step was measured, his movements graceful and deliberate, the soft fabric of his clothing rustling faintly in the stillness.

When he reached you, Yuta knelt gracefully at your feet, his eyes filled with quiet adoration. He rested his head gently on your thigh, a gesture of both submission and trust. The warmth of your body seeped through the fabric of your trousers, a comforting reminder of his proximity. Yuta looked up, his eyes shining with devotion as he spoke in a soft, reverent tone. "What do you desire, Master?"