The House of Lesslie Part 2

If you gave yourself to us, you would be cared for, would be given an opportunity of a life time, but for that, you would also have to be enslaved for a minimum contract of five years. There would be no questions asked, only orders given.

And so, this may have been the first time dear Caroline had been asked anything since she had entered the household. She reminded me of those I had lifted up in the years that now were behind me.

"Present yourself to me," I said.

Without objection, without shame, Caroline began to let her body flow out of the maid's uniform, a ghostly white form of perfection given flesh, curved and strong and shuddering a little as the air touched and caressed it.

I took in that image, with an eye sharpened through experience, looking for the soul underneath the skin, trying to find any blemishes, and imperfection, for this would be my raw material, the canvas I'd use to build her, to make her a piece of art.

I walked over to Caroline, felt her skin underneath my fingertips, the smallest, simplest touches. She inhaled sharply, her mouth slightly opened, the inhale quickly becoming a hiss, then a low, guttural moan.

She could be useful, I thought to myself. I blew smoke on her hardened nipples, warming them to my touch that followed, slow and gentle, watching her whitened cunt lips becoming engorged by it, that simple display to her mistress, her piss slowly drying on the inside of her thighs as it was replaced by thicker, creamier juice that started to pour from inside her, enough of it to have my fingers scoop it up.

I brought it to my mouth and tasted it. It was flavored with salt, syrupy and mingled well with my saliva. Yes, she definitely could be useful.

"And what is the place you wish to be, darling?" I whispered into her ear as streams of smoke escaped my body and washed over our faces, a fog of lust that engulfed my little darling whore's eyes and mouth.

"Any place my mistress wishes me to be," Caroline replied.