Bets Maid

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 scattering 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!