Traveler: Derek Walker 1
My name is Mason Elfer, a pitiful woman you can find anywhere on this continent. You might think that's too harsh a self-assessment, but it's probably spot on. I've survived by scraping by here and there, all thanks to the rotten luck I was born with.
This continent isn't kind to the daughters of fallen nobles. Slave traders who prey on women like me are a dime a dozen, and the perverted power-mongers who fancy girls in our position are too numerous to count on one hand. The unfortunate part is that those perverts love breaking down women who've already hit rock bottom. To them, we're nothing more than fragile toys to smash.
I don't even remember why my family fell from grace. Did my father get hooked on gambling? Or did my mother fall for some scam? It doesn't matter anymore. I was thrown into society at a pretty young age, and I didn't have time to dwell on childhood misfortunes.
It's awkward to say it myself, but I had a talent for coquettishly flattering men. What a joke. Not swordsmanship or magic potential, but batting my eyelashes and sweet-talking drunken bastards? That's the clearest proof I'm not this world's protagonist.
That's how I survived. As much as I hate to admit it, in this unforgiving continent, it was a damn fine talent. I've never gone hungry, so compared to others in my shoes, I'd call that a success. Maybe I should revise that "pitiful" label a bit.
After flattering a few different targets, I ended up as adjutant to Horton Baron. Adjutant in name only—I was just his convenient ornament. Of course, I applied for the position knowing full well what it entailed, so I hold no personal grudge against him. If anything, I'm grateful. He was easy to handle.
How I went from fawning over Horton Baron to serving my current master, Derek Walker (who's probably on track to become a count), is a tangled mess even I can't fully unravel now. It's a shame I can't detail it here. If I had to sum it up in one sentence: somehow, I ended up under him.
Derek Walker is the most peculiar, ugliest, and enigmatic man among all those I've served. Describing him would take dozens of pages and still fall short. Even now, I can't pin down exactly what kind of person he is.
For someone like me, who thrives on flattery, the key is defining your superior. Know what makes them tick, and you can cater to their every whim. I know this from years of surviving this harsh continent on charm alone.
So what the hell is Derek Walker? I can't answer that. All I have are a few hints to grasp who he is.
First: Master Walker is the incarnation of lust. Everyone in the castle—Coolong Count's manor—knows it, from the lowliest maids to his closest aide, Lady Luna.
Spend ten minutes in the same room as him, and you can't miss what a massive ball of sexual desire he is. I've served plenty of male superiors, but none with lust as potent as his.
Explaining it properly would take too long, so here's the short version: Master Walker has the sexual appetite of a hundred men at their peak.
Second: Master Walker is an exceptional mage. Surprising, right? Anyone who's seen him would think the same.
Describe his appearance? A hulking brute who looks like he easily tops 100kg, with a jiggling beer gut like a pig. No doubt God nodded off while crafting him. New hires whisper "human orc" behind his back. Part of my job is disciplining them for it.
Bit awkward saying this, but I get where they're coming from. When I first met him, I thought the exact same thing. Not something you say about your master, but staring at that wobbling belly fat makes me think of crispy bacon.
The other maids giggle it out loud while I just think it, so yeah, everyone agrees his weight is way off the charts.
Recent discovery: his obesity might be Lady Luna's doing. She's his right-hand woman and—most in the castle believe—his principal wife. I overheard her ordering Head Chef Belia to make Master Walker's meals four times the portion of a normal adult male.
Master Walker seems pretty keen on dieting, though. He orders me to fetch herbs that help with weight loss, so it must be true.
A slimmed-down Master Walker... Honestly, his base frame isn't bad—actually pretty impressive. Lose the fat, and he could make plenty of women swoon. Well, he already does.
Anyway, that body suits a merchant, not a top-tier mage. People picture mages as wise old grandpas in curved conical hats, clutching staves of ancient oak and grimoires.
Grab any passerby in Coolong Territory and ask—they'd say the same nine times out of ten. Master Walker doesn't fit the image at all, but his magic is the best I've ever seen.
Freely wielding six elements? That talent's one of a handful across the entire Miles Kingdom. And handling opposing attributes like light and darkness at once? Never seen or heard of anything so absurd.
I'm no scholar, but I'm quick on rumors—essential for my line of work. The greatest mage I'd heard of handled five elements freely. Name was something like Ban... whatever.
Incarnation of lust and genius mage. No common ground there. Great mages are supposed to be worldly sages, so the two are practically opposites. Yet Master Walker embodies both in this ironic twist.
That's why I can't figure out what kind of man he is. But honestly? Doesn't matter.
In every way, he's the most comfortable master I've ever served. Lately, I wonder if it's okay to have it this easy.
My workstation? Under Master Walker's desk in his office. Main duties... I trust you can guess.
No one I've served demanded such blatant sexual service, but I find it refreshing. No need to guess his moods—he just says it outright. And, well, his thinking is pretty straightforward (more instinct than reason), which makes tending to him a breeze.
The other maids say the same. Bluntly: provide sex slave service, and he doesn't complain.
Given my position, I'm less a servant providing sex and more a straight-up sex slave. If you ask how it is as a woman? Honestly, the best.
Best? Weird, right? Some might think so, but I'm certain. For a woman, there's no better gig than under Master Walker's desk.
While he works (honestly, he slacks off 90% of the time), sucking his cock is... work? Recreation? Either way, pure bliss.
"Shall we start today's duties?" Kiss his dick, suck for what feels like minutes, and suddenly the shift's over.
Asked other maids with similar jobs—they all report the same. I've seriously wondered if his cock secretes some mind-melting substance.
But watching his woman-handling skills, nah— he's just built that way. Optimized for enchanting women.
At that point, his looks not being my type isn't even a flaw. None of my past masters were, anyway. I didn't grow up pretty enough for workplace crushes.
From a servant's view, serving Master Walker beats any noble. Caveat: you need decent looks. Head Chef Belia seems like the bare minimum—roughly speaking.
He's not picky, quite generous with pretty girls, and surprisingly considerate of servants' situations—an ideal boss you rarely find in reality.
My salary? 20 silver a month. Under Horton Baron, it was 5 silver—and only on his good days.
Work environment's great too. Official hours: 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. while he "works," minus one-hour lunch—about eight hours.
Not nonstop blowjobs; mix in some fucking, and half the time I'm just waiting by his side. Started standing like a dining maid, but he said it bugged him, so now I sit in a chair.
Lately, I read novels (billed as business expenses) during downtime. He thinks of everything—makes me uncomfortable.
After hours? Total freedom. Earliest quits I've ever had. Work's not hard anyway, and the perks (mostly sexual pleasure) keep me hanging around post-shift.
Stick near him after hours, high chance of intense fucking. Recent maid competition for that is a bummer.
Night shifts are key duties too—for all the castle's beautiful female staff. Sounds like a tyrant, but no one hates it. Fierce underground battles for shifts instead.
Arme handles the roster. She's his shadow bodyguard and claims his nights as hers.
Besides draining his lust, I share trivia and rumors from my networks. More aide-like, though my shallow knowledge might not help much.
All in all, I'm thrilled with life as Mason Elfer. It's going too well—starting to doubt if this is my real life. If it's a dream, I hope I never wake.
Probably every maid here feels the same. We were tense when he first arrived, but killer pay, conditions, and his stamina won us over. Tension's gone.
What kind of man is Master Walker, really? Endless questions, but I don't pry. Not a servant's place.
Days like today spike the curiosity, though. Days when he acts... off.
"Hmmm! What was I doing again?"
"Slurrrp! Gluck! Chup! Glllrk!"
Inhaling the thick, musky scent of his balls while sucking his cock, I popped off the head with a kiss and answered as usual.
"You were handling paperwork, sir."
"Ah, right. Been a while."
Been a while? Sounds like someone returning from a long trip. And sure enough, after saying that, he gets confused about everything—like whether he ate, or nights promised to Luna or Sera (watching him soothe pouty Sera is honestly kinda fun).
Maybe these episodes hint at his true nature? What is Master Walker's real identity?
Theories swirled in my head. But his intoxicating cock scent gradually drowned them out.
Whatever. Doesn't matter what he is—as long as I suck him off right.
He can't be the Moon Demon King or something, right?