"Welcome," she said in an upper-class British accent. "I am Charlotte, and as I am sure you have realized, I am a slave girl, every bit as much as you..." Yes, she was a slave girl. The thin, short garment of silk was obviously all she wore, and could do little to hide the sweet curves of her young, soft body. I could see why she had been chosen for slavery, her body almost crying out to be taken and dominated by a master. If I had been a man I was sure I could not have resisted her, but would. ”She stood back up and her skirt fell to the floor, I had not seen her undo it. I looked up to admonish her, but she had started to undo her blouse. Pulling it off her shoulders and letting it drop onto her skirt on the floor. She leant back against the chair and as her knee slid forward, pushing against me, she felt the reaction that she had come to know so well.Then she leant down, putting her hands on the back of the chair, teasing her boobs in front of me. Every cell in my body screamed to. More

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