"That's a good girl, Lorelie. Show our visitor a bit more of your delightful wiles." Master Don lifted the angelic face of his favorite charge. His ice blue eyes burned into the smoldering depths of her lush green stare. A corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile as her eyes favored him with devotion.
"As you wish." Lorelie lifted up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on her master's smiling lips. Her raised posture inspired an appreciative display of milky-white skin, legs molded in dainty perfection, upturned breasts, and a smooth roundness to her naked bottom. The delicate chain around her belly slipped lower as she reached for her tall Master, the end disappearing into the light curls of her Venus mound. Satisfied she had pleased Master Don, Lorelie turned to the man her master referred to as Sloan. She inclined her head graciously before Sloan and took his fingers into her petite hands.
Lorelie never met the eyes of her master's guests. The obsessive ardor in some of their eyes unnerved her concentration. If she recognized a stricken guest, she would panic. More than once she had been cornered by a patron made savage with lust, seeking to inflict brutal pain. Master Don only sells pleasure.
Lorelie pored over Sloan's hands, smothering each finger with soft caresses before bringing them to her mouth. With a feathery touch, her full lips lovingly kissed each digit. As she finished one hand, she would rain attention on his other, resting the former to nestle in her lustrous red hair. She felt his hand moving under her hair, fondling the back of her head.
Lorelie never lifted her eyes from Sloan's hands. She focused completely on bringing pleasure to him through his beautiful hands. He must be an artist, she surmised, by the slight stain of vermillion still visible under his thumbnail. Her moist pink tongue licked at his thumb, covering his fingertip with her saliva. Slowly she licked between each finger before drawing one into her mouth and sucking provocatively. His free hand increased the stroking down her neck.
"You see, Sloan, your time is well spent in my house. Lorelie, my pet, would you be a dear and ask Charles to open a bottle of my finest Merlot from the cellar? See to it that you bring a glass for yourself, my dear." Master Don smiled lovingly down at Lorelie, still kneeling before Sloan.
"As you wish, master." Lorelie lifted from her kneeled position and padded from the study. She felt the eyes of Sloan following her, but she didn't look.
Lorelie was a simple woman. In all her years of education, music lessons, parties and social events, all she really wanted was to please. To serve. Make someone feel pleasure. Her upbringing was devoid of much emotion. Father constantly subjected Lorelie and her younger sister to rigorous lectures on upholding the Bettancourt name, to not embarrass the family at all costs. As a child and adolescent she always performed as was expected of her. Secretly she desired nothing more than to rebel, to step closer to the edge and peer over before flinging herself into the depths of desire, illicit passions and shocking sex. Lorelie Magdalena Bettancourt of the Pennsylvania Bettancourts held back in order to care for her fragile younger sister, Lisa.
Lisa Bettancourt came close to death many times during the first few years of her life. Sickly and weak, Lisa squeezed all the sympathy from the stiff Bettancourts and Lorelie was no exception. She worried and took care of her, loving her sister deeply. They were as close as two sisters could be, in appearances especially. As Lorelie matured and developed deeper strengths and desires, Lisa made it known how disgusted she felt about her sister's tastes. When she met Master Don in the old bookstore on campus, she discovered an outlet for her passions. Once Lisa found out, she proudly shared her news with the family, finally feeling a strength beyond her usual delicacies. Lisa turned her back on Lorelie. Lorelie never forgot the betrayal.
"Charles, Master Don has requested his finest Merlot from the cellar." Lorelie spoke quietly in her lilting voice.
"As the master wishes." Charles disappeared deeper into the alcoves of the kitchen appearing moments later with the dusty bottle of reserve. "You are pleasing the master, are you not, Lorelie?" Charles had been in the service of Master Don for several years and took it upon himself to see that the Master was always satisfied.
"Oh, yes Charles. As always." Lorelie inclined her head as she took the silver tray Charles offered.
"Did Master Don request a glass for you?"
"Very good, Lorelie. It will be a good evening, then." Charles placed another crystal glass on the tray.
"Thank you, Charles." Lorelie turned and left the kitchen, aware of Charles' focus on her backside as she sashayed through the door.
Lorelie walked slowly, balancing the valuable load on the tray as she studied Sloan's profile. Sloan was a tall man with dark hair cropped close to his head. He wore a snug-fitting black turtleneck and pressed gray trousers. Her eyes quickly shifted to Master Don's face as she entered the study once again.
"Lorelie, my pet, Sloan will be taking the Ivory room and he has requested your company." Master Don's beautiful blue eyes twinkled down at her as he took the bottle from the tray.
"As you wish, Master Don. I will be honored to accompany Master Sloan to the Ivory room. Lorelie suddenly felt a tickle of moisture between her legs as the promise of the evening's events began to arouse her mind.
"Why don't you make sure the Ivory room is ready for Master Sloan." Master Don studied Lorelie closely for any indication of refusal. Master Don never forced his pets to perform against their will.
"I will, Master Don. If you will excuse me." Lorelie padded quietly from the room, her eyes lowered to the Italian marble floors.
Lorelie paused briefly as the deep timbre of Sloan's voice reached her ears. "Lorelie is a beautiful woman. Very much so. Do you know of her history?"
"Lorelie and I met in a dusty old bookstore, both of us perusing over the same shelf of tomes. She is quite the intelligent lass, and quite the passionate one, if I do say so myself." Master Don chuckled a bit, as Sloan picked up on his hidden message. Oh yes, she enjoys her times spent with Master Don, at least once a week. He has the most magnificent--
"Lorelie, hurry along and take these with you." Charles interrupted her reverie, plopping a bundle of clothing into her arms.
"Yes, Charles." Lorelie continued up the stairs, her bare feet making no sound.
Beautiful notes from Vivaldi caressed the familiar opulence of the Ivory room, mating with the warm glow of candlelight licking playfully at the far corners of the suite.
The dining table was set with fine bone china and Irish crystal. Flames from the white tapers illuminated the fragrant bowl of tea roses in the center. Cooks' meal was ready and waiting for tonight's master.
"We meet again, Lorelie." Sloan's deep voice tingled her bare back. She didn't turn around.
"Yes we do, Master Sloan. I have prepared your table. Cooks' meals are quite the work of art." Lorelie smiled.
"A work of art? As are you, Lorelie."
"As you say, Master Sloan. Would you care for a bath before dinner?"
"No. Will you join me?"
Lorelie stopped, searching her mind for the proper reply. She didn't wish to offend Master Sloan. It just wasn't usually done. In the past she usually served and performed other tasks while the Master ate. "Ah... in a bath? If you wish it so, I will join you in a bath. Of course."
"I wish for you to join me for dinner."
.... There is more of this story ...