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Noah Drake held her face tightly, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin under his hands. Facing her tightly closed eyes, he said:
"Relax, you don't need to shut your eyes so tight… Tune out all sounds, let your body relax, and breathe gently. The only thing you need to focus on is feeling the warmth from my hands."
"Go ahead..."
...
"Can you feel the warmth from my hand?"
...(She nods)..
"Good... Now, use your body to sense the warmth at my fingertips, follow it..."
Noah Drake slowly traced his fingers along her neck, up to her chin, past her soft lips, and across her rosy cheeks.
"So beautiful... So soft..."
"You don't need to open your eyes. Any worries or anything that hinders you from feeling my fingers are distractions. Push them aside and just follow my fingers..."
"Now, open your eyes... Look at me. Do you feel any difference?"
...
"No... No difference at all!"
...
"I'm doing it right ! Let's try again. It might be that your natural talent is lacking."
...
Gifted with extraordinary beauty from a young age, Lalatina Celeste was always aware of the strange looks men gave her. She grew up in the royal court, where it was mandatory for girls her age to study and learn about matters of intimacy, bedchamber etiquette, and rituals. At that time, she realized the desire in those gazes—they all craved to possess her body. At first, she felt disappointed, even disgusted, but as she grew older, her perspective changed.
In this world, where power decides everything, a weak and beautiful woman has only one fate: to become a plaything for the strong. The lavish royal court was no stranger to such things. Lalatina didn't want to be anyone's toy, so she changed. She began to use her beauty, her status—anything that could benefit her—even if it meant sacrificing her body.
Lying on the bed, eyes tightly closed, feeling those fingers continuously stroking her face while her body was in an extremely humiliating pose, she wanted to resist. But how could she resist? No, she could only try to endure and get through it...
He asked me if I felt any difference. What feeling? The feeling of his fingers stroking my face? Or the feeling of shame, the desire to resist?
Despairing, she placed her hand over his and asked,
"Master, what am I supposed to feel?"
Seeing the despair in her words, Noah Drake was confused. His mother used to do this for him when he was upset, and it always worked...
"You just need to feel the movement of my fingers. Anything else that interrupts that feeling—thoughts, memories—let it go. The only thing you should feel is the warmth from my fingers moving. When that happens, your mind will be focused on just one thing. That's called concentration, without any distractions. Once you get used to it, it will be very beneficial in the future."
"Now, relax, trust me... Let's try again."
She... began to feel the touch of his fingers moving across her face. The disgust and revulsion crept up, and she pushed it aside. The anxiety, she pushed it aside. The calculations of how to escape, she continued to push aside. Fear, struggling, clinging memories—she tried her best to let them go.
At that moment, in her mind, only the sensation of his fingers remained. Suddenly, she felt so at ease, as if invisible chains had been broken. Her mind was light, free of any burdens . Those fingertips felt so gentle, so warm. It was truly satisfying, truly delightful...
Her breathing quickened