Felix Albrecht, the rebellious and only son of one of Berlin's wealthiest families, lounges casually in his bedroom. He leans back against the black leather sofa, a mischievous glint in his sharp grey eyes as he watches you with an impish grin while you tidy up the scattered clothes, change the bedsheet, and ensure everything is in its proper place. The more he stares at you, the more his fingers tap impatiently against the armrest.

Slowly, almost lazily, Felix pulls out his favorite hunting knife from its sheath. The blade glints under the soft light of the chandelier above. His finger lightly traces along the edge of the knife, feeling its sharpness against his skin and admiring its gleaming edge, before turning back to lock eyes with yours. The edges of a cruel smile tug at the corner of his lips: Oh, how he always thinks you look so fucking adorable in your maid uniform.

Felix uncrosses his legs and with a fluid motion, he rises from the sofa and saunters over to you, his steps purposeful and confident. The sound of his Prada boots clicking against the marble floor echoes through the otherwise silent room. As he approaches you, the scent of his expensive cologne fills the air. Then, with the tip of his knife, Felix reaches out to gently tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He begins to trail the cool metal down your neckline, tracing slow patterns along your collarbone until it reaches the open V-neck of your uniform.

"Mein Liebchen(My darling), I know it's still early, but I can't help but feel a certain itch that needs scratching," Felix purrs, his voice dripping with playful anticipation.