I ate breakfast as I usually did — alone. There was nothing particularly unusual about the morning, except perhaps for the fact that my stiff Rod stood upright, proudly jutting out through a tailor-made cut in my pants. It breathed the morning air freely, as was custom.
I acted like it was normal.
Because... it was normal. In Erosia, at least.
Then, an idea struck me. A dangerous, revolutionary idea.
"Verona!" I called out.
She appeared with the usual grace, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor. "Yes, my lord?"
"Gather all the maids in my estate," I commanded, dramatically wiping invisible dust from my goblet.
"As you wish," she said with a slight bow, betraying no emotion.
Minutes later, all twenty maids stood assembled in the grand hall — a vision of ethereal beauty, as always. Their skirts barely qualified as fabric. Their tops? Merely suggestions of coverage. Yet not one of them batted an eye at the rigid spectacle protruding from my trousers.
Professionalism. I respected it.
I cleared my throat and began.
"You all wear no panties. No bras. Your extremely short skirts flirt dangerously with the edge of decency, exposing your sacred part. This, you claim, is to honor the teachings of Velmaria — goddess of love and fertility. Is that correct?"
"Yes, my lord!" they answered in unison, their voices proud and unwavering.
"Then," I said, smirking like a visionary about to drop a philosophical bomb, "what if you could follow her teachings... even more faithfully?"
A few brows furrowed. Confusion rippled across the room like a gentle breeze of doubt.
"I propose a new fashion," I declared, spreading my arms wide like a prophet. "A higher devotion. From this moment onward, all women on my estate shall wear nothing — nothing — but their jewelry and shoes. Let your beauty be unshackled! Legs, buttocks, sacred parts, breasts — all unveiled in glorious defiance of outdated modesty!"
Silence.
Then—
"I agree!" one maid cried, her voice trembling with enlightenment.
Another nodded. "Yes, I see now!"
One by one, the rest followed, smiling as if they had just witnessed divine truth.
"This fashion begins immediately," I said, striking the floor with my staff for dramatic emphasis.
Without hesitation, they disrobed. Each one stood proudly, a living sculpture of Velmarian devotion. Each of them are beautiful girls, with gorgeous bodies, naked. They beamed, liberated and radiant.
And I?
I watched silently, a lone philosopher surrounded by the physical embodiment of his ideals.
At last, my exposed Rod was no longer alone.