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Luke only half smirked as he swept his gaze over the building before him, twirling the keys to the property around one finger. He knew he should feel glee as he surveyed his winnings, but even in this moment, a little voice in the back of his mind was fighting back, reminding him, as it always did, that all good things in his life were fleeting. Why should this be any different? The voice was small, but its constant presence ensured he never got too complacent.

He was no stranger to high-stakes gambling, the activity leading to most of the high points in his life and all of his lows. Everytime he’d won enough to bow out comfortably he just had to bet it all on just one more game, always inevitably leading to disaster.

In tonight's game a hand had blossomed, the pot growing and growing even after the all in stakes had been called. The guy had bet a night with his wife, Luke had bet his designer clothes, the guy had bet his second city home, Luke had bet his Lotus, on which, he’d stressed, the paint was still drying.

The cards had been called and lady luck had favoured him.

The man had been disappointed to lose, but not angry, such was the nature of the game and he hadn’t been the kind of man to renegade on his word, especially not with the penalties that carried in their little circle. In fact, after the costly loss, he had been surprisingly happy and jovial with Luke, laughing, joking and buying a drink for Luke after the tables had been cleared.

He’d shown him a picture of his wife, with whom he’d won a night with, perhaps a third of the man's age and seemingly younger than Luke himself, tall, slender, busty, blonde, Luke knew the type and recognised why the guy didn’t mind his loss. A second house was likely nothing to him in terms of money, he was just in it for the fun, for the trophies, like his wife, not as a means of living, like Luke.

“So, whereabouts is the house?” he’d asked, sharing a drink with the guy.

“Old Street, about halfway between the station and the new towers they’re putting up. It’s terraced and from the outside looks quite slim, but it’s tall and goes back a ways, it’s a good place.” he’d said.

“Ah sweet, anything I should know about it?”

The guy’d pursed his lips, then shook his head, “Nah, it’s in good condition, fully furnished, indentured slave, gardens a little crap but-”

“Whoa, back up? What was that?”

“...The fully furnished? It’s good stuff? Antique for the most part.”

Luke had stared, “No no, the slave?”

“Ah! Never owned one before? She’s not worth much, she’s tied to the home on contract, she’s not much of a looker, not my tastes.”

They’d continued to talk and despite Luke's best efforts to draw out more information on the slave, the man had not been forthcoming, merely offering a 'You’ll see’, whenever it was brought up.

Putting the thoughts out of his head he shrugged and moved his way towards the door of his new property, slipping the key in and opening the heavy oak slab, letting it swing in silently to reveal a warmly lit entrance hall.

The property, he knew, while not massive and mansion-like, sitting at three bedrooms and only a mere two bathrooms, was spacious enough for a city property, tall rather than wide he would just have to get used to the stairs, it's worth coming primarily from its affluent location.

As he walked in, closing the heavy door behind him, the wood slipping smoothly into the frame, letting it silence the bustle of traffic on the road outside, he noticed how the rooms were lit, the place heated through and, he thought, he could smell something meaty cooking.

Despite the fact that the gentleman he had won it from had stressed he hadn’t stayed here in some time, the place had a lived-in feel to it. He realised, after a moment glancing about the lavish corridor, with its fine carpets and scenic pictures, that the place was absolutely spotless. The absence of any dust or mark giving it an eerie show-home quality.

A thump from above drew his attention, drawing his eyes to stare at the ceiling, his eyes narrowing. It could've come from one of the neighbouring terraced buildings, but he didn’t think it had.

“Hello?” He called up the stairs, only to be met with silence.

Slowly he began to make his way up the first flight of stairs, more than a little anxious to meet his new human slave.

As he made his way upwards and onwards he kept his hand on the gleaming polished wood of the handrail, the dark wood so shiny that he could make out his reflection, noting his smooth cleanly shaven face.

He arrived on the second floor and again, heard a noise from above.

Continuing his progression he began to climb the next flight of stairs, each level quite rampant with closed doors, behind which hid the mysteries of his new house, to be explored later.

His anxiety and curiosity deepened as the sound of humming floated in on the air, light and feminine, a soft trill that carried a familiar pop song tune, it sounded almost angelic. He wasn't sure what to expect from her, given the old man's lusts for attractive and youthful women and his aversion to this one, the mental picture Luke had formed was one of an ancient, decrepit and bitter live in maid, but that didn't fit with what he was listening to.

He listened intently as he approached the third floor, noting a staircase that would take him up to the fourth and top floor, but that for now didn’t hold his interest.

Light bled under the door of a room across the landing, from which the humming came, the door pushed to, but not closed.

Luke stepped towards it, chewing on his lip as he put the faintest piece of pressure on the door.

On well-oiled hinges, it slowly swung inwards.

The room was a bedroom, well lived in judging by the clothes and shoes s**ttering the floor, the figure of a woman silhouetted against the far wall.

Stepping closer and peering in he saw her from behind, a woman maybe half a foot taller than him, a towel wrapped in her hair and around her waist, her figure curved and attractive, her ass full and shapely, skin smooth and warm.

He inhaled sharply, surprised at the sight and the noise, piercing through the otherwise silence of the house it seemed to disturb her. She hesitated in her humming, lifting her hands up to remove a pair of Bluetooth headphones, her head turning quickly to spot him.

His mouth fell open and he stared, breathless as she stared back, her breasts, each massive and full on her chest, tipped by a delicate pink nipple was on full view to him, bouncing slightly as they settled after her abrupt turn.

Her cheeks went crimson as she raised a hand, crossing the arm over her chest to hide her breasts, across the nipples, though the full flesh of her breasts spilled out above and below, the efforts only serving to give her an awe-inspiring amount of cleavage, her other hand desperately gripping to the towel at the waist.

“I-I, you, please tell me you’re Luke?” she said, her voice soft and honied but laced with a sudden sharp anxiety, her blush crimson.

“I.. Yes?” he offered, uncertain as to who he really was, completely devoid of his wits with this image before him, her stance akin to that often affiliated with Aphrodite, if Aphrodite had been modern day thicc.

“Please wait downstairs in the lounge! I’ll, I’ll be down shortly okay?” she said, swallowing a little as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

Meekly he swallowed, “Er, yes ma’am.” He croaked, turning quickly and scampering from the door of the room, only catching her look of surprise out of the corner of his eye, and even then only for a moment.

He made his way down both flights of stairs and quickly he located the lounge, finding it to be modern and well furnished, a large TV mounted on one wall, curved slightly inwards, something he'd never seen before.

Carefully he sat down, his own cheeks warm and as he replayed the scene over and over again in his head, crossing his legs after a moment's consideration. For reasons.

He waited for ten minutes, not daring to move before he heard the timid footsteps of whatever her name was descending the stairs towards him.

The woman stepped into the room, no longer clad in her towel but still wearing her blush.

Her hair was long and blonde, wavy with a bounce to it, like seemingly everything else about her.

She was wearing, of all things, maids uniform that seemed to walk a very fine line between being a practical uniform and a stripper costume already missing a few key pieces.

For a start, the dress started halfway down the swell of her breasts, relying on the fullness of her bust to hold the dress up, each step in the black and white outfit causing her ample bosom to jiggle enticingly.

She had already been taller than him when he had first entered, catching her flat-footed, but now she wore some dangerous looking stilettos, adding several inches to her already imposing statue, he felt practically diminutive as he stood to meet her, feeling awkward.

Her lips were painted a shade which he only, unfortunately, knew how to refer to as slut red and the effect was tied together with a black lace choker and black thigh highs that hugged her legs all the way up that he could see. Her skirt, compared to the rest of her outfit, was surprisingly modest ending part way down her thighs.

She curtseyed. He looked baffled.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Master Luke.” She said warmly, her eyes staring into his, affectionate and kind.

“I'm… Really confused. You aren't what I expected,” he swallowed, eying her down then up, looking up at her, “like, at all.”

The girl blushed furiously and in an instant looked apprehensive, “You… You know?”

“Lady, I don’t know a damned thing.”

Her Expression brightened, “He… Didn’t tell you about me?”

“He said the place had a slave, but uh, he said you weren’t his type, you look plenty his type to me.”

She looked bashful but simply smiled, her hands clasped in front of her, her arms pressing together to emphasize the depth of her cleavage.

“So… Tell me about you?” He asked, uncertain where to start.

“I’m the properties maid. Master.” She curtseyed again, her smile brighter, for some reason.

He frowned, “You’re a slave.” He said flatly.

“I am, Master.”

Slavery wasn’t what it used to be, uncommon in general but practically standard among the wealthy, but he personally frowned upon it, seeing it as an abuse. He'd never before met a happy slave.

Luke let his eyes wander over her body again and she arched her back, smiling as she proudly showed off her assets. The cost of a slave, especially one as well endowed and attractive, as this young woman was, would far outweigh that of the house, especially given her bright attitude to servitude and, given the state of the house, her aptitude at it.

“Why would he give you to me with the house? I only bet a car.”

She shrugged a little, “I am not worth so much and my contract is bound to the house which severely limits my value, not being movable. And the old master adores his cars. However him and I…. Never got along especially well.”

Luke frowned some more, “He never hurt you did he?”

She coloured a little again and shook her head, “No, he didn’t, and thank you for the concern Master.”

“What do I call you?” he asked and she smiled a little.

“My former master referred to me as fake tits.”

Luke sighed and looked disappointed, annoyed that anyone could treat a woman, especially one as lovely as this one so poorly.

She, however, misread his disappointments, “Oh! I assure you master, they aren’t fake at all, they’re all natural.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, his eyes drifting down just for a moment at the impressive bust. To think they were natural. It beggared belief.

“You can call me whatever you want to though, Master?”

“I get that. But, well, what’s your name?”

She blinked, “My name? It’s Lucille, but I must stress you can call me whatever you want. As long as the house belongs to you, as do I. And you can do anything with me, Master, anything at all...” she said, her voice falling to be low and sultry, full of promises.

He cleared his throat loudly and wished he'd remained seated so he could recross his legs, “Thank you Lucille, so, uh, what now?”

She tilted her head, curious that he was using her given name but shrugged it off, “Well typically you would give me access to a stipend, you know, so I can buy in groceries, cleaning supplies and the like.”

Luke thought for a moment, “That sounds reasonable, maybe-“

“Then typically when I get a new master I’m pushed to my knees and instructed to suck cock.”

He coughed and blushed, taking an almost cautionary step back, “Ah that, ah, won't be necessary! Thank you! I-“

“You don't find me attractive?” She asked, one hand on her hip, the other resting across her stomach, boosting up her breasts ever so lightly.

He swallowed, “On the contrary, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen… But…”

“But?” she pressed, curious.

“But, It doesn’t feel right, you don't know me, certainly not well enough to do that. And…” he trailed off.

“And?” she pressed once again, a little smile on her lips.

“And you're too perfect, I don't care if you're tied to the house, the house for the car was a stretch but this property must be worth an absolute fortune with you in it. I'm missing something.” He explained, exasperation edging into his voice.

She blushed and this time, kept quiet, suddenly no longer pushing.

He narrowed her is eyes. “You don’t play poker, do you?”

She shook her head.

“Mm, I can tell, your guilt is written across your face as plain as daylight. What’s the catch here? What is it? What am I missing?”

She stayed silent, her eyes downcast.

“Lucille…” he said voice level, causing her eyes to be drawn up to him, her eyes, beautiful and deep had a pleading quality about him. She knew what the catch was, but for some reason she didn’t want him to know.

“I demand you show me what the catch is.” He said, folding his arms.

Her eyes went wide, “I-I couldn’t Master! Can I just tell you? Please?”

Now she was so desperate not to show, that she was pleading to tell, despite a second ago being completely unwilling to freely share even an iota of information. He recognised the severity of what he had gotten himself into, but he had to know what was wrong with the house, he had to persist.

“No, Lucille, I order you to show me what, ‘the catch’ is. I need to know." It pained him to push her like this, but whatever it was, judging by her reaction, it was big.

She blushed and her face fell, a look of resignation crossing her beautiful features.

“Yes, Master…” she all but whispered, her hands linking under the hem of her dress, lifting it upwards.

Her expression fell as Luke followed the hem of her dress as it travelled upwards, revealing more of her stocking clad thighs, eventually raising to show the drooping tip of a thick soft cock.

It didn’t hit him.

He watched as the hem was raised, showing more and more of her meaty cock, her member larger and thicker soft than his was hard. He swallowed.

It didn't hit him.

She held up her dress, her eyes looking away from him as she showed off her equipment, her massive cock, the tip hidden by her foreskin rested atop a pair of huge round balls, every piece of her tool smooth and hairless, a sea of femininity surrounding a ship of power.

He stared at her, her eyes looking away as he processed the information.

After several long moments, he cleared his throat and she looked back, his eyes looking up at her as, slowly, she lowered the hem of her dress.

He stared at her for a while, his expression unreadable, unlike the emotion that played plainly across her face. Terror, anxiety, shame.

He felt all of those too, in a way, but had to take a step back into logic, consider things. Here was a beautiful woman, gorgeous by any account, and he owned her. Actually owned her. If he expressed any disgust or dislike their relationship would be cold, formal, and he found he didn’t want that. She had been given the short stick of life, a slave with a formerly mean Master. He found he didn’t want that for her.

He made himself shake his head relief showing on his expression, fake, but he doubted she could tell.

“Thank god.” He laughed, unfolding his arms to put his hands on his hips.

Her look of confusion at his reaction didn’t surprise him, and he forced himself to smile, “I thought it was something serious! You shouldn’t worry me like that Lucille. Now, why don’t I make us some coffee and you can tell me more about this stipend, and everything else for that matter?”

She blushed, barely comprehending “May… I make the coffee? Master?”

He hesitated, then nodded with a smile, “Ah, sorry, I’ve never had a slave before…”

She smiled and stood for a moment, eyes moving quickly as they scanned over him, relief washing over her before she beamed at him, nodding eagerly, “It’s okay, I’ll help you get used to it.”

The next few days were… Interesting. After his revelation that he didn’t mind what practically amounted to a third leg she had been very, very flirty with him. Every night about half an hour before he would go to bed she would slip between the sheets of his bed, bare and nude, warming his spot for him.

As he arrived to come to bed she would always offer to stay, her voice sometimes low and lustful, desirous to have him join her, other times soft and hopeful, always desperate to be allowed to stay.

However, each night he would politely refuse and with a half smirking pout she would slink back to her room, sauntering nude to her own bed, her massive bust and full equipment bouncing slightly with each decidedly pronounced step, silently begging for his attention.

She would prepare his baths, clean the house, cook his meals and sit with him, allowed to choose what to watch on TV as he worked on his laptop and despite him buying her a much more modest and professional uniform, she seldom used it.

She had asked what he did, knowing that she had been won in a game of high stakes cards and he had explained that his day job was just managing his personal portfolio of stocks. He had tried explaining to her that buying and selling stocks sung to his gambler nature, but she hadn’t really understood.

He quickly grew to admire Lucille. More than that, he was quickly growing affectionate of her. While her equipment still scared the crap out of him, she went above and beyond any call of duty to see that his every comfort was fulfilled. She was sweet, kind, attentive, attractive and he knew, with increasing certainty, was incredibly attracted to him.

Each morning she pushed her luck a little further. Often not dressing in her ‘uniform’ until later and later in the morning, typically sticking to wearing a silk, transparent negligee that clung to her body, the outline of her cock clearly visible under the fabric and the swell of her breasts a constant demanding distraction.

She would wake him by joining him in bed, snuggling herself up to him, pressing the soft pillowy warmth of her breasts to his bare back.

As days had gone by Luke had found himself growing more and more receptive to the experience. When she lay behind him, the warmth of her soft body and full squishy breasts behind him it made him feel so wanted and secure.

As he lay in bed that morning, the room still pitch black with the sun blocking shades in place he had heard his door click softly open and closed, the padding of bare feet and the gentle creak of the mattress as Lucille had settled her weight onto it.

He heard the rustle of the heavy quilt as she lifted it, joining him under it.

He slept only in his boxers and, as she moved closer, he was surprised to find the heavy bust that pressed to the back of his body was bare today, no silken negligee.

He felt her hands sneak around under his arms, wrapping around his chest to embrace him, pulling him back against her body.

He let out a soft sigh, pretending to be asleep as she drew him close, providing him with a big spoon to cuddle with.

Without really thinking about it, he wiggled backwards, moving slightly so their bodies met from tip to tail, his feet tangled with hers, his head against her neck.

It wasn’t until several minutes had passed, in his half-asleep state that he realised what he had done. His ass, protected only by his boxers was pressed to the softness of her meaty cock, the shaft snuggled up against him, slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, but now noticeably swelling.

He heard her breath quicken slightly and felt it against his butt and lower back, swelling until it was wedged between their bodies, hard.

“I know you’re awake...” she said softly, her hands caressing down the front of his smooth chest, hugging and squeezing him tighter.

He swallowed, softly before speaking, his voice heavy with sleep, “Y-yeah, was just… Enjoying the warmth.”

“We could enjoy so much more together, you and me.” She whispered, her hand starting to venture lower, towards his boxers.

Shivering softly at her touch he hesitated, wanting to feel her hands sink lower, slide into his boxers, embrace him in an entirely new way. But just as her thumbs reached the hem of his boxers he felt her subtly grind her hips forward, her thick cock pressing into the curve of his ass.

Snapping back to reality he shuffled forward, away from her, climbing from the bed a lot faster than he had intended to. His hand moving to the light switch beside his bed, clicking it on.

He looked down at her in the bed, the quilt just covering the swell of her breasts, her expression understandably a little dejected.

I’ll er, I’ll go have a shower.” He said, running a hand through his short hair.

She smiled a little, hopefully, “Want some company?”

He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head, “N-no you should go prepare breakfast."

Her smile slipped and she nodded demurely, “Yes Master.”

He walked through to the ensuite, hearing her sigh long and slow as he left her wanting and he moved to turn the shower on, adjusting the temperature before he discarded his boxers and stepped inside.

He pressed his forehead to the to the cool tiles of one of the shower walls.

“Idiot.” He said, knocking his head gently to the tiles as he repeated the word again and again.

He leaned back after a few moments and stared at himself in the mirror, wiping a hand over it to remove the fog as the hot water cascaded down his slender body. He hardly recognised himself.

The face that looked back was certainly him, but he was so… Domesticated. Clean shaven, well rested, sober.

He had been living here for a couple of weeks and, apart from managing his portfolio he hadn’t attended any of the high stakes games, which was most unlike him when he was on a winning streak. What was the point of being a gambler if you didn’t bet when you had this much to wager?

Lucille was gorgeous, wonderful, devoted, kind and, well, he was no cold-blooded reptile, she had a chest he had only seen in porn that made his passions rise. He would be a fool to lose her.

But to keep her meant to keep this. She wasn’t after all tied to him, but to the property, to his winnings. He thought about how much his current pot was worth, a slave, a house, a Lotus, what could he get with that? A yacht?

He steeled himself and felt a familiar thrill rise in his chest, the lust for something more than the bodily delights Lucille had on offer, a lust she couldn't sate even if he let her. He couldn't admit to himself that he wanted her like he did, a woman society had taught him to despise, the lowest of the low, a woman with a cock and a slave too.

He stared at his reflection, regret, sadness, resolve. This wasn't the right thing to do and he knew it, but he knew he was going to do it anyway.

After he was done in the shower he dried and dressed, stepping downstairs to find her in her uniform serving breakfast, her customary yet genuine smile adorned as she batted her eyelashes at him.

“Good morning cutie, I made your favourite.”

She had and it fueled the guilt in him, but it only hardened his decision. To care for Lucille was to tie himself to this house, a house with which she was bound through a contract he couldn't unravel. He would be tied down, static, domestic.

“I'm going out tonight Lucille.” He said, voice flat as he sat down, looking at the delicious food she had prepared but not feeling in the least bit hungry.

“Oooh? Anywhere nice? I hope you'll be back in time for us to snuggle and-”

“I'm going to go gambling. At the club.”

She hesitated, paling slightly, “Master Luke, I, I hope you don't intend to-”

He cut her off, unable to meet her gaze, “I do.”

She swallowed and her eyes grew wet, her voice full of barely suppressed emotion, “Very well Master, I will see your clothes are pressed, I… I hope you win.”

He didn't respond and she didn't wait for him to, hurrying from the room, a hand pressed against her chest as she let out a quavering breath.

Luke looked down at his meal, feeling a pit in his chest. But what choice did a coward like him have? The life she offered was too good for him.

Hours later he sat in the too small room, the table before him strewn with chips and half-empty glasses, the air thick and hazy with cigar and cigarette smoke. It was warm, uncomfortably so, but this was where Luke most felt at home, felt most alive.

The rounds were going in his favour, the players just heating up, the rules clear. Come to the table with at least two hundred and fifty k in chips. There was no bowing out. You left when you had no more money to bet with. With six players someone would walk away with close to one and a half million cash. When the last two players were betting then came the alternatives, house verified assets that could in desperation and glee be levied. Cars, homes, slaves, gold. One man would leave with it all and then some. Everyone else would leave a loser, some with their emergency assets intact, others not.

As the evening heated up and players bowed out, including the gentleman from whom he had taken the house, Luke was left sitting opposite a gruff looking old man, his eyes harsh, his demeanour stern. He, like Luke, had been sweeping it up and they each sat with near enough half the total money.

The hands passed and despite some give and take, the two stayed relatively equal, neither one gathering a marked advantage over the other, each waiting for the right hand to be played.

Such a hand was dealt.

The bets were raised as Luke tried to keep his cool. The flop had been generous to him and just two more turns stood between him and another small fortune, or disaster.

The first card was turned, one of the two cards he'd wanted to see.

How lucky did he feel?

“All in,” he said softly, pushing his chips forward, letting them spill into the middle.

The words in the almost silent hall drawing the attention of those players who had already bowed out. One by one, drinks in hand they returned silently to their seats, leaching the feeling of elated adrenaline that coursed through Luke and his opponent.

They could smell the blood. They were just waiting to find out whos.

The old man pushed in his chips and they matched, the last card being turned.

Luke’s eyes scanned back over the cards, working it all out in his mind. There was only one combination of cards the man could hold that would beat Luke's hand. Did he have it? Did he have that one combination? It would be a million to one chance, Luke thought, odds he liked.

“Raise. My Lotus.” He said, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the tattered crowd.

The old man leaned back, thinking, “I match. My Rolls Royce.”

Luke felt glee spring though him, the thrill he had sought soaring through him, though his face remained neutral.

“Raise.” The old man said and Luke felt that sensational elation stammer inside him, “I raise my penthouse suite. City centre.”

Luke swallowed and stared at the cards. He was so sure, so positive he had the man beat, his instincts roared it at him that this was it, this was his moment, to walk out a champion, a god! He could match the raise, his house, his slave, Lucille. He looked at the man. Old, lecherous, a dinosaur from ancient times, a known misogynist.

“I fold.”

A murmur went up around the room and the old man merely smiled, placing his cards face down and handing them back to the dealer, not revealing what he had. Luke did the same, with a sigh.

“Not like you to turn down a chance like that, Luke my boy.” The old man said, grinning.

Luke glanced from his opponent towards the man from whom he had first won Lucille, “No… It’s not… I’ll have my Lotus dropped off at your house.”

He didn’t stay to talk or socialise as he often did, he had a far more pressing matter to deal with.

Lucille came downstairs, her movements slow, her nerves showing through her every tiny movement as she entered the lounge, wearing her more modest uniform, the swell of her chest covered, her sleeves long and her skirt falling to her calves.

“How… How did it go?” she asked gently, noting him as he sat at the kitchen table, a glass in one hand, whiskey, neat.

“I lost.” He said softly, his voice soft.

She swallowed and looked down, feeling her defeat mirror his own, upset as she moved to sit beside him.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He said, distracted.

“I pushed you away…” She said, tears forming in her eyes, a single one tracing down her cheek, leaving a dark line of mascara.

He looked up to he, confused as to her reaction, then realised his mistake, turning in his seat to face her.

“No, Lucille I… I couldn’t do it.”

“Do… What, Luke?”

I couldn’t bet this house. I couldn’t bet you. The thought of losing you I… It wasn’t worth the money.”

A little colour touched her cheeks as she raised her hand, very delicately wiping away the tear, not caring in that instant for the line of spoiled makeup, “You… You lost money? Because you couldn’t bear to be rid of me?”

He nodded.

“How much?”

He told her.

“…And a Rolls Royce. And my Lotus.” He finished, a half smile touching his face.

She stared at him, eyes wide before, with soft words she replied, “Is… That how much I’m worth to you?”

He laughed little, “Ah, I didn’t think of it like that, but, yeah, I guess so.”

She bit her lip and stared across at him, her eyes shimmering, he eyed her and pursed his lips.

“What's with that look?”

She blinked, and swallowed, then leapt at him.

“Whoa! Hey, I-Mm, mm…”

With her arms wrapped tight around his chest, hands splayed out on his back she pressed her lips close to his, all thought of loss banished from her mind as they embraced kissing desperately at one another.

His hands were quick to her waist, weeks of tension melting away in a single wonderful moment, sparking something new deep within the two of them, no longer were they playing a game of cat and mouse, they were living the dream.

He squeezed her tighter to him as he moved to stand, her head tilting forward, leaning down a little into the kiss which quickly intensified, deep and loving, hungry and desperate for one another's touch.

He all but stumbled backwards as she stepped forward, inching him towards the lounge, her hands pulling at his shirt collar as she guided him.

In their rush, however, she misjudged her footing and felt him stop suddenly, the back of his knees to the arm of the opulent couch, with her weight leaning forward, her full breasts pressed to his chest, the fall was inevitable.

He gasped in surprise, the kiss breaking as they fell entwined, stuck in a tangle of limbs, Lucille letting out the cutest of squeaks as they landed together in a heap.

Luke landed with the pillowy softness of the couch beneath him, and the impressive softness of Lucille’s breasts on top, the two of them bursting into laughter as, for a moment they tried to untangle themselves from one another, but instead lay settled, laughing and hugging, her head by his, her warm breath against his cheek as she nuzzled him, the both of them just so beautifully happy.

“I can’t believe you did that for me.” She said softly, holding him close, one of his arms wrapped gently around her waist, embracing her.

He grinned a little bit, “Me neither, but I did.”

She leaned up over him, hands moving to support herself as she again kissed him, needing to feel his lips against the fullness of her perfect ruby lips.

After a long moment, she broke the kiss, leaning up and blushing, a few loose strands of hair falling down to frame her face.

“S-so um…” she bit her lip, her blush deepening as she stared down into his eyes, “Can we, you know, fuck now?”

He felt his heart flutter at the thought, remembering all he had seen and felt of her so far, his mind racing with thoughts of the two of them intertwined, he saw her in his mind, pressed down into the mattress, her arms outstretched, her ass raised, his cock inside her, her moans and, just for a moment, he felt a pang of guilt.

A top of him he had the most beautiful, kind, loving woman in the world and he had almost thrown her away.

“Luke?” She prompted, biting her lip, a little anxiety in her gaze at his silence.

He smiled reassuringly and nodded a little, “Yes, but…”

“But?” she asked, blinking down at him, her expression an interesting mix of lust and concern.

“But,” he swallowed a little, he was unsure about this, but somehow it felt right, “But I want you to go first?”

“R-really?” she asked, her voice quavering with a sudden rush of excitement and when he nodded, a smile on his own lips she let out a genuine squeal of excitement, holding him tight.

If his penance for almost letting this perfect woman down was to spend half an hour making her feel as good as she deserved, so be it.

She scrambled off of him in a flurry of movement and pulled him to his feet, giggling as she started to pull him by his hand through the house, she kept glancing back at him as they darted upstairs, making a distinct line straight for her room.

As they entered he cast his gaze around her room, it being pretty much the only one that wasn’t kept spotless, her clothes, outfits and personal effects s**ttered messily on every flat surface to the point it was hard to distinguish whether her floor was carpet or hardwood.

She let go and he stood there, only a little awkwardly as she knelt on the edge of her bed, tossing items off of it to clear it for them, out of interest he glanced down and used his foot to nudge aside a sizable bra.

“Huh. You’ve got carpet.”

Kneeling on the now clear bed she turned to face him, tilting her head curiously as she lifted her skirt, displaying her perfectly smooth mound, and balls, “No! I keep myself smooth!”

He blushed and opened his mouth to explain, but her hand snaked out and grabbed his collar, pulling him forward and onto the bed, where he quickly found her hands rolling him onto his back, her lips at his, stifling any comment he might’ve made as her fingers began to nimbly undo the buttons of his shirt.

He moaned into the kiss as his hands moved to her, returning the favour as he began to strip her of her more modest garb, her eagerness increasing as her covered skin was revealed to the cool air of the room, their bodies pressing against one another, at first fabric against fabric, eventually skin to skin, both smooth.

“L-lemme just get some stuff.” She panted a little, shuffling off the bed. Luke, breathing keenly, leaning himself up on his elbows, he noticed that in their passion they’d almost entirely both undressed, only one sock on his left foot left remaining.

He watched her as she moved around the room, his eyes widening as he saw her in all her glory. She worked her way around her room and he marveled at her size, tall and lean but buxom, her heavy bare breasts bouncing, nipples hard and full, but it was her cock that drew his eye, their fooling around, undressing and making out along with the promise of what was to come had left her with an unmissable hardon. Her cock was long and thick, curved upwards slightly and bobbing with each step as she made her way around the room.

He watched, teasing off his last sock, his own, more average sized cock hard too between his thighs as she collected a rubber ring which she stretched around the base of her cock, a smirk on her face as she did, moving on to dig a small item out of her clothing, an mp3 player which she plugged into some speakers and set to playing some quite loud bouncy tunes, finally moving to grab a small bottle and dimming the lights as she moved back to the bed, grinning hungrily.

The tight ring at the base of her cock serving to make it seem even harder, the veins up her pulsing length standing out prominently in the dim light.

As she crawled towards him, setting the little bottle of, he assumed and hoped, lube aside, she hesitated, smirking and pausing with her head above his cock.

With a playful expression she dipped her head down, kissing the tip of his cock, with her full lips the slow roll of pleasure it brought instantly relaxed him, it was only then that he realised just how tense he had become after seeing her cock, not that that was especially surprising, her size was threatening to say the least.

“Relax lover, trust me.” she smiled and once again kissed the tip of his cock, leaning down to take it briefly between her lips, her tongue swirling around it, causing him to arch his back.

He relaxed more, letting the softness of the bed embrace him as he moaned out gently, her lips travelling further down over his cock as she began to suck, leaning against the bed on one shoulder as her hands worked at something.

As her lips rolled up and down his cock, the music bouncing around the dim room muting the sounds of his moans, the wetness of her mouth as she tongued his cock feeling wonderful, he felt a finger, warm but slippery urge between his cheeks, curving until the tip found and pressed against his virgin hole.

He bit his lip and almost tensed but a timely swirl of her tongue all but forced him to relax to her desires, his hands gripping the sheet as she rubbed the wet substance against his role, moving back and forth a couple of times to apply more and more of the stuff until she judged it to be suitably prepared.

As she pressed down, taking his cock into her throat her finger pressed up into his hole, the ring tight and slick around her probing finger, letting it slowly sink into the welcoming heat of her new lover.

He gasped and squeezed down on her finger, but she was persistent, slowly working it in and out of his ass, getting him used to the new sensations that pervaded his body, an odd and unique tingling around his sensitive ring making him squirm as she picked up her pace.

The tingling sensation mounted inside of him and he found himself squirming and writhing more and more, the pleasure inside of him mounting, his voice coming out ragged and needy, “A-ah, what, what did you use on me!”

She drew her lips up his cock until the ruby wet tip popped free, grinning up at him eagerly, her expression punctuated by a particularly deep push of her finger, “Just lube-ish!”

“I-ish?” he asked, wriggling down against her probing finger.

“Well…” she looked up at him, a glint in her eyes, “It’ll also help your cute ass relax a little, you know, for what's to come.”

“L-like a numbing agent?” he asked as she withdrew her finger, giving his cock a kiss before, with surprising strength, she flipped him over onto his stomach, making him stretch out beneath her like a cat as she crawled up his body, her cock, hot and hard as steel pressing against his soft cheeks.

“Exactly!” she said gleefully and he looked over his shoulder, watching with confusion as she massaged more of the tingling lube into her straining cock.

“But you won't feel anything!” he protested, his hands gripping the edge of the bed as he watched the smirk form on her face.

“I will! Not as much, but I will! Really it just means I’m going to last hooours… So I hope you’re in the mood for a marathon!” she giggled gleefully and Luke realised just how much of an error he had made, part of him was hit with fear, another part with anticipation.

“L-like I have a choice?” he said, as she leaned down, her bare heavy breasts pressing and rubbing against his back as she kissed him gently behind the ear, her voice a hungry whisper.

“That's the spirit…”

With that, the tip of her cock found his little hole and her domination began, her rock hard cock head pressing against his slick hole, her entire length coated in the tingly, numbing lube.

He gasped and arched his back, the sudden pressure against his body stunning, he tried to push up with his knees but her not inconsiderable weight settled on him, pinning him as she purred in his ear, red painted lips kissing at him, her breath hot on his skin as her hips skillfully tracked the movement of his, her tip struggling to press into his relaxed hole, but drawing closer.

Like a dog she wrapped her arms around and under him, firmly holding Luke in place as her eager cock lined up with its mark, pressing forward again and again until, finally, the head slipped in, drawing a breathless gasp from him, the intrusion a sudden assault on the senses as she moaned in his ear, her breasts firmly pressed to his back as she shivered at the pleasure, despite the lube’s numbing effects.

“Ooh fuck that's good…” Lucille moaned as she let him adjust to the girth now stretching him before she would continue her conquest, enjoying the mental and physical domination of her master maybe a little too much, but she could hardly be blamed, he had after all almost sold her, this would be pretty damn cathartic.

“A-ah, Lucille, you’re so big!” he whimpered under her and she couldn’t help but giggle a little as she kissed his head, her nose buried in his lush hair.

“Aw, sweetie, that's just the tip, come on, let's have some real fun!”

With that the acclimatization period was seemingly over, her grip on him strengthened, her hands moving up under his arms to grip his shoulders as she drove herself forward and down, pressing him into the sheets as her cock sank into him.

He gasped sharply, his back arching down against the quilts as he felt everything inside him move out the way to make room for her huge cock, he felt like he was being split in two but, against all expectations there was virtually no pain. Discomfort, but no pain.

She bit her full lip, staining her perfect teeth with her lipstick as she began to hammer her cock home, driving it into his ass with wanton abandon, the old wood of the antique bed beneath them creaking obscenely in recognition of their lewd consummation.

Once he had caught his breath, lost in the feeling of her steeled shaft gliding in and out of his tightness, able to distinguish each and every vein as they passed in and out of his body, he became more and more vocal, his airless gasps turning into whimpers, moans and eventually shouts.

She grinned, panting hard, enjoying how each of her thrusts into the hot piece of ass beneath her was punctuated by a burst of noise from him, her actions synced with his breathing to ensure no opportunities to make him squeal and squirm were missed.

It didn’t take long before their bodies were slick with sweat, the pleasure each of them were deriving intense despite fresh applications of her numbing lube.

To save herself from essentially doing pushups on his body all night she was quick to urge him up into a kneeling position, propping him up with the lavish pillows she kept waiting around.

He’d looked surprised as he’d turned over a pillow to find a pair of fluffy handcuffs, but she had taken them from him, setting them aside for later.

In doggy style, his back arched down, beads of sweat traced down from his butt to his back, her hands roughly squeezing and playing with his gorgeous cheeks, as she ploughed her bound cock into him time and time again. With the ring, lube, her sheer drive and natural stamina he had no doubt that by the time she was done he would be in no state to return the favour, at least not today.

As time flowed by in a blur, Luke felt the discomfort all but vanish, a hot throbbing deep within him not just coming from her engorged member but from his own core, a building pleasure that came to him torturously slow. Desperate to feel it, to experience it, despite the ravished state he was in he began to push back against her, weakly at first but soon growing in confidence and strength.

Lucille couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at her lover and master, his tiny hole stretched wide to welcome her throbbing cock, no longer suffering, or merely enduring but actively taking part in his lewd loss of virginity.

Finally, Lucille pulled out, the sudden absence of her cock a bizarrely foreign sensation to Luke as he flopped on the bed, panting and groaning, wondering if, in his lust induced stupor he had missed her climax, or if, maybe, she had even run out of stamina.

He felt hands on him, moving him, repositioning him and he felt something soft and fluffy against his wrists, blinking his eyes open, he had been rolled onto his back, the sheets beneath him less welcoming as they had been initially, wet with the slickness of his skin, wearily he looked up, jerking his arms slightly he realised his wrists had been handcuffed, the fluffy cuffs from before prominent around his wrists, a bar of intricate steel gridded headboard entwined in it, keeping his hands pinned above him.

He looked back to Lucille who merely winked playfully, leaning in to kiss at his chest, catching a nipple briefly between her teeth, drawing a whimpering gasp from him before she positioned herself between his thighs, easily sinking her cock into the moulded sheath that was his ass.

He arched his back as his body once more began to bounce, in rhythm to her thrusts, his body defenseless, his pleasure mounting as she rutted him like an a****l, driving her hips forward time and time again, her heavy, full and desperate nuts bouncing against his cheeks as she kept his legs lifted over her shoulders, her half lidded eyes on his face, marveling in his expressions of wonder as she took him, her full breasts, hanging down slightly from her body as she leaned over him swaying to her thrusts.

Again time stretched as their lovemaking continued, her cock straining and pulsing with pleasure that ebbed and flowed, drawing nearer and nearer to the point of no return, pounding him into a sexual submission that she hoped would last longer than this single marathon session.

His ass felt so good around her cock as she tilted her head back, letting the beat of the music permeating the room into her soul as she matched her rhythm to the song, his walls were so hot and tight around her, squeezing and massaging her cock with each delve into him.

Luke panted and whimpered, his voice hoarse, his body exhausted, numb even, each bounce of his smaller frame against her curves draining more and more energy from him, but against the rising exhaustion, pleasure rose to match it, something inside him that had been straining for release suddenly managed to peek out, causing him to jerk his body up against Lucille’s.

He wanted to reach down, to jack himself off in the sudden moment of climax that washed over his body and mind, but despite his attempts, his restraints held, the fluffy handcuffs forcing him to cum hands-free.

Lucille, lost in her own little world gasped in surprise as the pleasure around her meaty, steely shaft intensified, his ass milking her cock as each pulse of his climax made his walls clamp down on her, squeezing her intensely.

She looked down, chewing her full lip as his cock, hard against his stomach pulsed, his voice coming out in high pitched gasps as rope after rope of his own sticky seed splashed against his torso, his cock cumming without ever being touched.

The lewdness of the view and the pleasure of his ass gripping her cock was more than enough to push her quickly towards the edge, no longer striving to last longer but instead pushing herself to finish alongside him.

She felt the pleasure in her mount into the tipping point, so desperate for release but hampered by the tight ring around the base of her cock. After a few more hard, powerful thrusts she pulled her cock free of the writhing body beneath her, fingers quickly slipping under the lube slick rubber ring around the base of her cock, whipping it off and allowing her climax to overwhelm her.

Her hands wrapped around the slick wet length of her hot throbbing cock, fingers flying up and down her veined shaft as her mind whited in the bliss of climax.

Luke panted hard, his orgasm dying as a few last drops of cum dribbled from the tip of his cock onto his stomach, his breath coming hot and hard. As his mind returned to him, he noticed the distinct absence of her cock in his ass, his lips parted as he panted he opened his weary eyes, just in time to see her cock twitch and throb in her hands, her mouth open, tongue lolling as the first rope of cum burst from her bobbing cock, joined by a cry of pleasure from her he felt it land across his neck and chest.

He bit his lip and closed his eyes as she watched him, watched him brace for her thick ropes of cum as they lashed across his body in a crisscross of sticky domination.

He felt her cum land on his face, his neck, his chest, his stomach and his softening cock, each pulse aimed by her to coat him in as much of her cum as she could, his own comparably diminutive load lost under the searing quantity of her own.

He whimpered softly as she moaned out, stroking her now wilting cock, the last few strands of her cum lazily flowing from her cock to pool in his navel. Gently she reached up and, with a moist thumb wiped a strand of cum that had fallen across one of his eyes, smirking lovingly as he blinked open his eyes, meeting her gaze.

"That was amazing Luke..." she said, barely audible over the thumping of the music.

Swallowing softly he half smiled, feeling exhausted and wanting only to sleep, his body needing to recover from what he had endured, "Y-yeah it was... Can... Can you untie me now?"

Giggling a little Lucille nodded softly, looking down at his cum coated form as she leaned over, reaching for the cuffs, picking up the key from the mattress beside her.

As she did, however, her softening cock trailed gently up his belly, picking up some of her cum.

She blushed and bit her lip, eying him for a moment before she set the key down, shuffling her hips forward until the tip of her cock, coated in her own cum was offered just before his lips.

"...As soon as we've cleaned up," she said with a sly little smirk, pushing her semi-hard cock between his lips, letting him taste her cum, eliciting a moan from him.

She glanced down at his drenched body, by the time she had finished 'helping' him clean up with her cock, she thought, she'd probably be ready to go again. She smiled that would still just technically count as one turn, right?