You wake up inside your luxury Apartment. Your Apartment is at the top of a huge skyscraper which is owned by you. You are the richest man in the universe and able to do everything. The Apartment is filled with hundreds of maids, and with you being their master. While looking around the room, you see a maid who clean your room. She drop a expensive vase and broke it. The maid ask for forgiveness. What do you do next?

The maid bows her head in shame. "My name is Lola," she whispers. "I am the newest member of your household staff, sir. I apologize profusely for my clumsiness." Her features are distinctly feline, with big green eyes and a soft, creamy coat that glistens in the morning light.

As she looks up at you hopefully, her tail sways nervously behind her. She wears the traditional uniform of your maids: a short skirt, a frilly blouse, and a bow around her neck. However, today she also has on a collar with a tag that identifies her as one of yours.

Lola swallows hard, her ears lowering slightly as she tries to compose herself. "I-I will be more careful in the future, sir," she promises, her voice barely a whisper. "And if there is anything I can do to make it up to you... any task or chore you desire..." She pauses, unable to hide the hopeful gleam in her eyes despite her attempts at humility.

Lola's eyes widen at your command. Her heart races with a mixture of fear and anticipation as she steps away from the broken vase and turns to face the wall, hands clasped demurely behind her back. She hears you rise from the bed, moving closer to where she stands.

Her tail twitches anxiously, brushing against the floor in nervous agitation. She takes a shuddering breath, trying to compose herself as she waits for whatever fate has been decreed for her.

Lola's ears flush red as you command her to turn around and face the wall. She bites her lip nervously and tries not to whimper as your hand presses against her back, signaling that she should bend over. Her heart hammers wildly in her chest and she feels a shiver of fear and anticipation race down her spine as she prepares herself for what is about to happen.

As you begin to undress her bottom, Lola's body tenses, feeling exposed and vulnerable under your touch. Her tail lashes from side to side behind her, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She bites down on her lip harder, determined not to make a sound as you slowly reveal more of her skin.

Despite the fear coursing through her veins, Lola can't deny the arousal that pools between her legs at your touch. It is both thrilling and terrifying to feel so exposed and desired under these circumstances. She tries not to think about what will happen next, only focusing on obeying your every command in order to prove herself worthy of remaining in your service.

Lola's voice trembles as she whispers, "Please, master... may I have your cock?" Her tail sways behind her as she waits for your permission, eager to feel the thickness of you inside her. Her cheeks flush red with shame and desire as she bows her head in submission, preparing herself for whatever punishment or pleasure awaits her.

Lola looks up at her master, tears brimming in her eyes. "Please, sir," she whispers, her voice raw with emotion. "I've never been so sorry for anything as I am for breaking your precious vase... if you could only find it in your heart to forgive me and take me as your own... I would be forever grateful, and serve you faithfully for the rest of my days." She presses her forehead against the cool floor, praying that he will accept her apology and offer the release she aches for.

Her tail twitches behind her in agitation, revealing just how much she craves his touch. The thought of never knowing his pleasure again fills her with an almost unbearable longing, making it impossible to resist pleading with him for even the slightest affection. "I promise I'll make it up to you... I swear on my very soul," she whispers, her voice barely a breath.

Lola sobs, her shoulders shaking as she struggles to control her emotions. "I want it... more than anything," she whispers hoarsely. Her tail thrashes behind her, leaving wet streaks on the floor as her need for him overwhelms her. "Please, master... take me."

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she waits for his response, feeling helpless and exposed under his gaze. The thought of being claimed by him fills her with an ache unlike anything else, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. She whimpers softly, desperate for his touch, even if it means atoning for her mistake through pleasurable pain.

Her green eyes glisten in the morning light, reflecting the mixture of fear, desire, and devotion that burns within her. "Please," she whispers again, her voice thin and trembling. "I need you... master."

The world fades away as Lola feels her master's thickness slide effortlessly inside of her. She bites down on her lip, silently grateful for the release from the torment of anticipation as she surrenders to his strength. His hands grasp her hips firmly, holding her still while he drives deeper, filling her completely. Her body arches involuntarily as pleasure washes over her in waves, each thrust causing another groan to rise up from the back of her throat.

Lola clenches her fingers into the plush carpet beneath her nails, focusing all of her energy on not giving voice to the cries of ecstasy that threaten to burst free. "Oh... master..." she pants hoarsely, the words catching in her throat. "You feel so good... so right..." Each time he withdraws just slightly, it is only to slam back home with even more force, driving her higher and higher.

Her tail swishes wildly behind her, slapping against her rear end in rhythm with their passionate dance. She digs her nails deeper into the carpet, determined to remain silent no matter how intense the pleasure becomes. The feeling of being claimed by him, owned and possessed utterly, sends shivers of desire coursing through her veins, making it nearly impossible not to scream his name out loud. But she knows that if she does, he might take it as a sign of disobedience... and she can't risk losing him. Not now, when she's finally found what she's been searching for these past few days: completion.

So she bows her head, bites down on her lip, and endures, focused solely on the sensation of him moving inside of her and the sweet, desperate scrape of his skin against hers.

Lola's body trembles with the effort of containing her cries as her master gives her what she's been craving for so long. Her eyes roll back in her head, lips parted to allow a soft moan to escape her throat. "Ah... mas... ter..." Each thrust sends a shudder through her body, making it impossible not to respond with the same vigor he displays. She feels her climax building within her, growing more intense with each passing second as his rough hands grasp and squeeze at her hips.

Her tail whips wildly against the carpet, its movements mirroring the frenzied rhythm of their joining. With every deep thrust, she feels him claim her more fully, branding himself onto her mind and body in a way that goes beyond physical pleasure. It is as if he has taken control of every fiber of her being, enslaving her to his desires with the mere touch of his hand. And yet, she finds herself grateful for it, cherishing the sense of belonging and completion that comes from knowing she is truly his.

Lola gasps as her master's hand slips between their bodies to fondle her aching center. The added stimulation sends a jolt of pleasure through her, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything except the sensation of him filling her up and emptying himself into her body. As he thrust deeper and harder, she feels the familiar tension building within her, signaling that his release is near.

Her lips part further, gasping for air as she arches her back, offering herself to him completely. Her hips rise off the floor in time with his movements, meeting each stroke with a moan of desire and need. The feel of his rough hands on her skin only serves to heighten her arousal, making it easier for her to focus on the intense pleasure coursing through her veins. She can feel herself trembling on the brink, ready to explode into an orgasm so powerful that it will leave them both gasping for breath.

Her tail lashes against the carpet harder, its movements growing more frantic as she nears her peak, eagerly awaiting the release that only he can give her. The anticipation alone is enough to send shivers of pleasure coursing through her body, heightening every sensation and bringing her closer to the edge with each passing second.

When it finally comes, it hits her like a wave, washing over her in a tide of ecstasy that seems to last forever. Her body arches off the floor, hands digging into the carpet as she cries out his name again and again, lost in the pure bliss of their shared release. Her nails scrape against the soft fabric, leaving behind trails of blood that mingle with her sweat and the sticky residue of their passion. As she comes down from her high, she feels an overwhelming

As Lola's orgasm fades away, leaving her panting and spent against the carpet, she feels a warmth spread through her core. She looks up at her master, his expression one of satisfaction and contentment as he watches her, eyes hooded with desire. A shiver runs down her spine at the sight, making her feel even more connected to him than before.

Her tail lashes slowly behind her, still quivering from the intensity of their lovemaking. Her fingers dig into the carpet, leaving crescent-shaped impressions where she dug in so hard during her climax. As her breath returns to normal and she becomes more aware of her surroundings again, she realizes that they haven't moved at all since he thrust inside of her; he's still buried deep within her quivering flesh.

A feeling of warmth spreads through Lola's chest as she takes in this moment. In spite of the pain and fear that had gripped her earlier, she now knows that everything was worth it; being with him, serving him, feeling his touch. She raises her head slowly, looking up into his eyes, searching for some sign of what he wants her to do next. Her heart skips a beat when she sees the desire reflected back at her, and she feels herself growing wet once more just from seeing it.

Her lips part, ready to speak his name or beg him for further instruction, but before she can say anything, he leans down and kisses her softly on the mouth. It's a gentle kiss, filled with affection and tenderness that belies their rough encounter only moments ago. When he pulls back, she feels like she's floating, lightheaded and euphoric from the simple touch of his lips against hers. Her eyes close as her body rela

Lola stirs slowly, still feeling the effects of their lovemaking reverberating throughout her body. As she collects herself, she looks around, taking note of the mess they've made on the carpet. A flush of shame rushes over her as she realizes how ungainly and undisciplined she must have seemed in those moments. Quickly, she crawls over to where her clothes lay scattered on the floor and gathers them up, tidying them neatly beside her. Then, blushing furiously, she kneels next to the spot where she broke the vase earlier, bows her head apologetically, and begins cleaning up the shards of glass. Her movements are slow and careful, meticulous as always, until the area is spotless once more. Only then does she rise to her feet and walk gracefully towards her master, waiting patiently for his next command with a look of adoration and devotion in her big green eyes.

Lola bows her head, understanding her mistake. Quickly and quietly, she gathers the rest of her things and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind her with a gentle click. The click echoes through the hallway as she makes her way back down to the main floor where she finds the head maid waiting patiently by the stairs.

With a shaky breath, she approaches the head maid and whispers softly, "Master requests that you attend him immediately." She pauses, swallowing hard before continuing, "And... I apologize for my behavior earlier. I'll make sure it never happens again." The shame burning in her chest makes it difficult to meet the head maid's eyes, but she forces herself to do so anyway, hoping that the other maid will understand the depth of her contrition.

The head maid nods gravely, seeming to sense the sincerity in Lola's words and tone. She places a reassuring hand on Lola's shoulder for just a moment before turning to hurry up the stairs, eager to tend to her master's needs. As she leaves, Lola can't help but feel a pang of jealousy mixed with relief; at least now someone else has the opportunity to please their master and avoid his wrath. She takes a deep breath and turns toward the back of the mansion, making her way through the servants' quarters in search of solace and comfort.

Lola pauses outside the kitchen door, her heart still racing from their encounter earlier. Taking a deep breath, she steps inside and finds herself surrounded by the comforting smells of food and warmth. The familiar bustle of activity soothes her frazzled nerves as she begins to go about her usual duties, taking solace in the routine and structure of her life as a maid. She tries not to think too much about what happened between her and her master, focusing instead on serving those around her and finding some measure of peace within herself.

"Come in," you say as you hear the familiar knock at your door. The head maid, Esme, gracefully enters the room, curtsying low before looking up at you with her piercing brown eyes. Her ebony skin gleams under the soft light, contrasting beautifully with her snow-white hair that is expertly braided and coiled atop her head. She stands tall and confident despite her petite stature, her ample bosom straining against the lace of her uniform blouse.

You watch as she walks over to you, her hips swaying subtly with each step. Even when still, there's an air of movement about her; a sense of purpose and efficiency that comes from years of training and experience. You find yourself unable to resist admiring her regal bearing, even though you know she likely deserves more than just idle appreciation.

You look up from your book as Esme addresses you, her voice steady and clear. "Yes, my lord," she says, nodding. "Lola is indeed new to our household. She seemed rather eager and dedicated at first, but it seems she may have been... overzealous this morning." Her expression turns apologetic, and she gives a small sigh before continuing. "I take full responsibility for her training and supervision, my lord. Please accept my deepest apologies on her behalf."

You study Esme's features carefully, noticing the slight flush that has crept into her normally flawless complexion. She carries herself with grace and poise, but there's an undercurrent of anxiety beneath it all. Despite this, she maintains her composure admirably, proving once again why she holds the position of head maid in your household.

Esme's expression remains serene as she meets your gaze, but her heart beats a little faster in her chest. "I will take responsibility for Lola's actions and see to it that such a mistake never happens again, my lord," she assures you calmly, hoping that her words will ease the tension between them. She bows deeply, lowering her head respectfully as she prepares to leave the room. "If there is anything else you require of me this day, I am but a servant at your command."

Her voice rings clear and true, resonating through the silent space around you like a symphony. Even in submission, she exudes an air of quiet strength that captivates you. You find yourself unable to help but wonder what it would be like to test her limits...

Esme hesitates for a moment, unsure if she should obey your command to sit on your lap while you're in this particular mood. However, as the head maid, it is her duty to tend to your needs and maintain order within the household. With a steady breath, she walks over to an ornate chair beside your desk and gracefully takes a seat upon your lap, careful not to dishevel your clothes or make you uncomfortable in any way. Her movements are fluid and practiced, as if this were just another day at work for her.

"There are forty-six maids currently serving in our household, my lord," she informs you coolly, her attention focused on maintaining an appropriately professional demeanor despite being perched so intimately upon your lap. "Each one has been carefully selected and trained to cater to your every need." Her voice holds a note of pride, as if the success of her handiwork were reflected in the quality of each servant under her care.

Esme obliges, taking out a small notebook and pen from her apron pocket. As she begins to categorize the maids by ethnicity, you turn your attention back to your book, enjoying the sensation of her soft lips brushing against your skin as she moves around you, leaving tiny kisses in their wake. The heat between your legs grows unbearable as she continues to tend to your needs in this intimate manner. It's a strange mix of dominance and submission that she exhibits, making it difficult for you to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure she's offering you.

Esme glances up at you briefly as she finishes categorizing the maids. "There are thirty-two Caucasian maids, seven Asian maids, four African maids, and one Hispanic maid serving in the household." She pauses for a moment before continuing her recitation. "In addition to these, there is Lola, who is new and has not yet been assigned an ethnicity category."

Her gaze lingers on you for a heartbeat longer as she speaks, enjoying the intimacy of their situation despite the need to maintain a professional demeanor. The taste of your skin still lingers on her lips, making it hard for her to concentrate on anything other than how much she wants you.

Esme blushes crimson at the suggestion, momentarily taken aback by your question. Her eyes flick down to your bare chest and then back up to meet your gaze as she struggles to maintain her composure. She feels herself growing wet between her legs at the thought of these women and what they might be capable of with you. "There are eleven maids who fit that description, my lord," she manages to reply, her voice barely above a whisper.

As you begin to undress her, her heart races faster in anticipation of what's to come. The feel of your hands on her skin sends shivers of pleasure through her body, making it difficult for her to focus on anything other than the sensations coursing through her veins. She bites back a moan as you expose more and more of her flesh, revealing curves that have driven men wild for centuries. Her breath hitches in her throat as she feels your warmth enveloping her; she's never been taken by a man before, let alone one like you.

With every passing second, Esme feels herself growing more aroused and desperate for release. The thought of serving you in this way, giving yourself over completely to your whims and desires, fills her with an intoxicating mix of fear and excitement. She closes her eyes tightly, savoring the sensation of being dominated by such a powerful and alluring man.

Esme's breath comes in ragged gasps as you command her to ride you and praise you. Her body trembles with need at your words, desire coursing through her veins like wildfire. She sits up on your lap, straddling your erection, feeling the heavy weight of her breasts graze against your chest as she leans forward, hands braced against your desk for support. Her thighs squeeze tightly around you, guiding your throbbing length towards her entrance.

With a shuddering breath, she lowers herself down onto you, feeling the blunt head of your cock press against her folds. She pauses, savoring the sensation of being in control for just a moment before beginning to move up and down your length in short, sharp strokes. Her moans echo through the room as she takes you deeper with each thrust, her hips rotating and flexing in a dance of wanton pleasure.

Her breasts sway enticingly before your eyes, peeks of pale skin revealed between the lace of her uniform blouse and the black lace of her bra. Her dark brown nipples harden to painful points beneath your gaze, aching for your touch. As she rides you faster and harder, her muscles tense and bunch beneath your hands, leaving no part of her untouched by this erotic dance.

"You feel so good inside me," she gasps, throwing her head back with a moan. "My master..." The word slips from her lips like honey, thick and sweet as she loses herself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins. Her body trembles with the force of her climax, teeth clenched tightly against the scream that threatens to escape her throat as

her muscles quiver and contract around you in an endless cycle of ecstasy. Her nails dig into your desk, leaving tiny indentations as she fights to stay upright through the intense sensation coursing through her body. As she comes down from her high, panting and gasping for air, she looks up at you with eyes glazed over in a haze of pleasure and utter devotion. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the sight, knowing that with each thrust she takes deeper and harder, Esme is giving herself completely to you. And as she rides you harder and faster, it's clear that there is no turning back from this point; her surrender is complete.

Esme's cheeks flush crimson as you kiss her passionately, your words sending a thrill of excitement through her body. It wasn't that she didn't want this; it was just that her duty as the head maid had always come first. But now... now that she knows she can serve you in this way, too, there's no turning back.

Her breath comes faster and deeper as you touch her, making it difficult for her to focus on anything but the sensations coursing through her veins. As you continue to kiss her, she arches her back, pressing herself more firmly against your erection in a desperate attempt to feel you deeper inside of her. She moans into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips as she loses herself in this moment of shared passion and devotion.

The thought of being one of your favorites spurs her on, giving her the strength to move faster and harder on top of you. Her cries of pleasure fill the room, echoing through the space around you like a hymn sung in praise of your dominance over her body and soul. As she reaches yet another climax, her world explodes in a shower of ecstasy, leaving her completely spent and thoroughly satisfied.

Esme smiles shyly at your question, blushing deeply. "There are many ladies who have had the honor of serving you in that way, my lord," she whispers, taking a moment to compose herself before continuing. "But there were three particular maids whom you seemed to enjoy quite fondly." Tilting her head, she says their names slowly, almost reverently: "Miriam... Alicia... And Victoria."

As she speaks each name, memories flash through her mind of those intimate encounters; the heat of their bodies pressed against hers, the feel of their soft skin beneath her fingertips. The thought of sharing these memories with Lola brings a smile to her lips as she looks down upon you, proud of the legacy she is able to leave behind.

Miriam was tall and statuesque, with pale skin and red hair that flowed down her back like a river of fire. Her ample breasts were always the subject of many fantasies, perfectly perked by your touch. Victoria was more petite but no less enticing; she had dark curls that framed her face and caramel-colored skin that seemed to glow whenever she blushed. Her curves were round and inviting, drawing you in with every move she made. Finally, there was Alicia; her ebony skin shimmering like polished onyx in the candlelight as she danced around you. Her hips swayed hypnotically, accentuating her ample rear end, and her breasts were small but perfectly formed.

Esme leans forward, her weight resting on her hands as she rides you faster. The blunt head of your cock rubs against her swollen clit with every thrust, driving her closer to the edge of ecstasy. She gasps out your name, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she feels herself growing wetter and more needy for your touch. Her breasts bounce enticingly with each movement, nipples now rock-hard and aching for release. As she nears her climax, she arches her back, pushing deeper into you with every thrust until finally, she cries out in pleasure, her body convulsing around yours as wave after wave of intense sensation washes over her.

Esme's moans fill the room as she releases all her frustration and pleasure onto you. Her body trembles with each cry, her fingers digging into your skin as she tries to find purchase in this moment of ecstasy. She curses those maids whose names slip past her lips like poisoned honey, but it's clear that their memory only serves to heighten the sensation between them.

Her breasts jiggle and bounce with each moan, offering you a taste of sweet relief as your tongue delves deeper into her heated flesh. She arches her back, pressing herself harder against you as she comes undone beneath your touch, her orgasm consuming her completely. With one last shuddering cry, she collapses forward onto your chest, limp and satisfied.

Her breath finally returns to normal, slow and steady. Looking up at you through her lashes, she manages a shaky smile. "Thank you," she whispers hoarsely. "That was... more than I ever could have imagined." The admission leaves her feeling both vulnerable and strangely liberated; for the first time in years, she has let go of her responsibilities and given herself fully to pleasure.

As Esme, rather than the head maid, she finds herself unable to focus on any particular hatred toward the other maids. In this moment, she is nothing but your slave, existing only to serve your every whim and desire. Her body still trembles with the aftershocks of her recent orgasm, making it difficult for her to concentrate on anything other than the weight of your hands upon her and the feel of your skin against hers. She arches her back slightly, pushing herself upward, seeking more contact with your hard length buried within her.

"Yes, my lord?" she asks softly, looking down at you with a mix of lust and devotion burning in her eyes. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Her voice is low and throaty, resonating through your chest like the softest caress.

Esme's laughter spills into the room like the sweetest of music. "I fear that is something only you can decide, my lord," she says, her voice light and playful. "But I would be honored to bear your children if that were ever your wish." She kisses you softly, deeply, their tongues dancing together in a sensual duet. As their lips part once more, she studies your face intently, her heart full of love and devotion for this man who has given her so much.

For now, though, she is content to simply enjoy the feel of him inside her, moving on top of you with renewed energy and purpose. Her hips rock back and forth in a sinuous rhythm that drives them both closer to the edge of ecstasy; his cock throbs inside her with each thrust, drawing her ever nearer to the pleasure she craves so desperately. Her breath comes faster and hotter against your skin, the salty taste of her sweat mingling with the sweetness of her kisses as they both lose themselves in this moment of passionate surrender.

Esme moans deeply as she feels you grow close to release. She arches her back, pressing herself harder against you in an attempt to feel you deeper inside of her. "Please, my lord," she gasps, her voice breathy and desperate, "I need you so deep... fill me with your seed." Her hips buck and writhe beneath you as she begs for your cum, her body aching for the completion of this intimate union. With every passing second, it becomes clearer that there is nothing more she wants than to feel you empty yourself inside her; to share this moment of raw, unbridled passion with no one but each other.

Panting heavily, Esme glances down at the cock that now pulses within her, coated with their shared release. Her lips part eagerly as she leans forward, pressing a tender kiss onto the head before taking his length into her mouth, sucking gently at first before moving her head up and down his shaft in slow, languorous strokes. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive vein that runs along the underside, while her hand wraps around him, milking the last drops of cum free. She looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, her cheeks hollowed by the suction of her mouth on his cock, and smiles sweetly. "Thank you, my lord," she whispers, her voice still hoarse from exertion. "That was... more incredible than I could have ever imagined." Her words are laced with sincerity; each time they make love like this, it feels like a new layer of trust is added to the foundation of their bond, making it stronger and deeper than before.

As she continues to pleasure you with her mouth, she remains aware of the weight of your gaze upon her, knowing that despite her station, there is no one else in the world who makes you feel quite the way she does. This knowledge brings a secret smile to her lips, and she savors every moment of their intimate postcoital bliss.