The following is a work of fiction including matters of an adult nature. If you are not of legal age to be reading such things, or if sexually oriented material offends you, now would be a good time to leave. The subject matter contains language, male/female consensual sex, Male/female submissive attitudes and references to other types of intercourse. Enjoy. Lorelie's Desires by Virago Blue "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?" "Yes, Charles." "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." "Yes. Of course." Lorelie realized with embarrassment that Sloan was holding the chair out for her to sit. She kept her eyes lowered to the lush carpeting and table as she lowered her naked bottom onto the cushion. Sloan pushed the chair closer to the table, towering over her as he did so. Lorelie folded her delicate hands in her lap. Sloan placed a kiss to the top of her head. "Now, Lorelie, you will allow me to serve you. It will please me greatly." Sloan smiled, she could see it from the corner of her eye as she studied the tiny gold hoop hanging from his earlobe. Lorelie picked at her food, not wishing to mention to Master Sloan that she was actually a vegetarian. He ate the succulent lamb appreciatively, refilling her wine glass after each sip she took. Lorelie continued to study Master Sloan, finally coming to the conclusion that he may be just a bit nervous. In all her years with Master Don she had never been faced with the emotions which were now confusing her. She never took a meal with any of the guests, she was never treated more than what she wished to be treated as: a pet. Clearly Master Sloan wanted more from her and she was battling herself on how to deliver. She never met the eyes of her Masters, but this time . . .carefully she peered at him from under the hood of her darkened lashes. "You look so much like her." Lorelie couldn't respond right away. A tear glistened in the corner of his eye as he stared at her. She shook her head slightly as she gazed at him over the candle's flame. A soft rusty curl slipped from her shoulder and drifted over a pale breast. His eyes lowered, following the path of the curl over her breast. The tendril of hair did not cover the pale pink areola and his gaze teased the nipple into a hard mauve point. "Who?" She reached for her wine glass. His hand touched hers at the stem of the crystal. He slid from his seat and kneeled next to her. Suddenly she felt embarrassed. "I never had the chance to say goodbye to her. It was . . .just . . .a silly argument. I saw you the other day at the bakery and I followed you. . . here. I had to meet you. You could be her twin. I mean, I know you're not, my wife said she didn't have a sister, but you could be. Please don't be scared of me. Please." Sloan's hand still rested on hers. The other hand lifted the curl from her breast. "No, I'm not afraid. This is just a departure from my usual . . . um . . . routine." Lorelie bit the luscious fullness of her lip. "We would have celebrated our first anniversary tonight. She wanted a baby, I thought it was too soon. I wanted to travel and spend some valuable time with my wife before we settled into beginning a family. I didn't know . . .until after. I was so stupid, so stupid. The car hit her and left her to die alone on the street two blocks from our brownstone. I heard ambulances that night, but never thought . . . " Sloan pushed from the floor and walked to the window, turning from her. "Please don't be scared. I just need to say goodbye, for my own peace of mind, for whatever that's worth." Lorelie watched his back, slumped in defeat. "What was her name?" "Lisa." "Do you have a picture?" Sloan pulled the wallet from his back pocket, slipping a picture from the worn leather and handing it to her. "I do." If his back had not been turned he would have seen the look of shock on her face. She lifted his glass of wine and refilled it, handing it to him with a sympathetic smile. "Master Sloan--" "No, just Sloan." "All right. Sloan. Come and sit down, lean your head back and close your eyes." She held his hand softly in hers, guiding him to the sofa. His eyes drifted down her petite body until it fell on the tiny gold chain which disappeared into her pubic curls. He watched it sway and bump against her as she walked. Lorelie watched him a few moments fighting his feelings before relaxing into the music. "May I be excused for a moment, Mas--Sloane?" "Of course." She picked up the picture of Lisa and padded into the bathroom. She placed the picture against the lighted mirror. They shared many of the same features, the red hair, green eyes, small frame, it was easy to see how Sloan picked her out from a crowd on the streets of New York. "Lisa . . . " Lorelie touched the picture. Lorelie powdered her lightly freckled face, adding a touch more mascara. She outlined her lips with a nude-colored pencil, filling in the lines with a pale peach lipstick. She fluffed her already full hair and spritzed Anais Anais to the backs of her knees and the bend to the insides of her elbows. She quickly reached for the pale green robe from the armoire. The gossamer fabric melted between her fingers. She slid the robe over her slight shoulders, loosely tying the sash. Sloan's eyes opened slowly and gazed in wonder as she hovered over him. "You are so beautiful." His fingers reached out and skimmed over her collarbone, drifting lower to cup her breast through the fabric. His thumb teased her nipple, his mouth hungrily covered the ripening peak, lightly biting nipple and clothing. She arched into him and hovered over his lap, her knees planted on either side of his thighs. He felt her body through the diaphanous robe, his hands devouring her shoulders, arms, the slender dip in her lower back, the luscious curves of her rear, the firmness of her thighs. His mouth worked her nipple, slipping under the fabric, teasing with his tongue. Lorelie's small gasps and cries fanned the flames of passion. Sloane dipped a finger into her honeyed center, sliding back and forth over her lust-swollen clitoris. Slowly she rotated her hips, increasing the pressure, covering his beautiful hand with her juices. "Fuck me, Sloan. I want you to fuck me so hard." Lorelie breathlessly pleaded into his ear. With a lover's urgency, he stripped the clothing from his well-honed body, standing over her in all his glory. She peered up at him from the rug she had slipped down to, eager to take his proud cock into her mouth. Sloan fell to his knees beside her, tenderly stroking her cheek. His emotions began to peek through his desire. He covered her body with his, careful not to crush the delicate woman and began to nibble, suck and kiss her lips. "I don't want to hurt you. You have never been this passionate with me before. A part of you always held back, never let me in all the way. Why, Lisa?" Lorelie realized her part in this game and answered the only way she saw fit. "That was in the past. You can't hurt me. Do anything . . . everything. I want you to." Lorelie parted her legs and reached for his cock. She grasped it firmly in her hand and rubbed it over her clit. Her eyes never left his. She continued teasing her clit with his slick cockhead, watching his expression turn from sadness to intense, animal desire. "Fuck me." She mouthed. He plunged deep inside her, the initial entry making her gasp in delight. He was pressed so deep inside, completely filling her. She folded her body around him, locking her legs around his velvet ribs. His thrusts began slowly. She tilted her hips to take in every inch of him. His thrusts picked up tempo, shaking her with every pound. She greedily met each thrust, taking him as deep as physically possible. His testicles tickled her rear, slapping against her with each deepening stroke. "Yes. Fuck me, Sloan. Fuck me hard." And he did. They made love so many different ways that night. From tender kisses, Sloan lapping at her swollen pussy, she pumping the cum from him once again. Once he took her savagely from behind, apologizing into her ear as he lay spent over her back. He seemed truly surprised over her admission of enjoying rough sex. She managed to convince him of her desire by asking him to slap her bottom as she fucked him while on top. He reveled in her attentions and began calling her Lorelie. Her sister Lisa had done well. But Lisa was dead now.