Part 2 -- The Making of Aristo Slave
My face lights up as you say "YES". I have watched you intently as I have done my best to describe the cauldron of sexual demand and expectation that the tavern is. Your face is alight soaking up the blatant sexual decadence of no limits that is my world of fucking and taking. Despite my endeavours to paint the blackest picture to prepare you for the utter debauchery I want you to be part of, you are eager; no completely immersed into the slutty world of sexual exploration.
But my smile and relief are not just you saying yes, it is for the enthusiasm and desire you express to be part of an alien, wicked world that you have been 'lucky' to not be part of... until now. A desire to immerse yourself to being a class whore in a dungeon of blatant sexual excess; a slave to pleasure, because everyone will pay to have you. You will be their dreams come true....
My smile slides into a stern stare. "This is the last time I will call you mistress when you are in my world". I'm taking a risk after all this is your family house and I work for you!
"When you come to the tavern, down here in the scullery, my quarters, the stables, any 'downstairs' world, you will be what I want you to be. No questions"
I continue "Just as I will be what you want me to be in your quarters and anywhere in the upper house".
"You have come here to the scullery to meet me as I requested. I have told you what you will be. You have said yes so now I will make you what you are. Now stand up!" You quickly get to your feet clearly startled by my abrupt change in tone. You stare at me wide eyed and yes excitedly wondering what is going to happen next.
I step back and slowly look you up and down. This is the first time I have paid attention to what you are wearing. As expected, your clothes are of the highest quality from the finest couture houses in Europe; clothes never expected to be seen in the tavern.
You are wearing an elegant silk pale lemon overskirt, subtlety embossed with delicate patterns. The skirt is fastened at the waist, and is open at the front exposing a refined white cotton underskirt.
The figure-hugging corset style bodice shares the same pale lemon colour and pattern as the overskirt. The bodice is criss-crossed and bound by a silk lace ribbon, loose enough to show the white cotton blouse underneath. White half-length sleeves finish the simple but elegant ensemble.
In every respect your luxury dress is not suitable to transform you into a lowly 'poor' tavern wench, yet in my mischievous perhaps perverse thoughts, it suits my needs perfectly! Rather than have you blend into the tavern wearing the typically cheap drab clothes of greys, browns and blacks the whores typically wear, you are going to stand out as a beacon of sexual desire, lust and fantasy.
I smile at you wickedly. "Time to make you the hottest whore, and the most desired fuck in the tavern".
I move towards you, our eyes lock onto each other's; yours questioning what 'hottest' and 'most desired' actually translates into, and mine betraying the excitement I feel in finally getting my hands on you to turn you from Aristo elegance and sophistication, into a street slut selling sex and pleasure.
Without breaking our stare, I undo the bow of the silk ribbon, and roughly tug the two pieces of the bodice apart, revealing more of the white blouse that hugs your bust. I should say
heaving
bust, the excitement of the unknown clearly affecting you.
I place my hands on your shoulders and take the bodice straps and roughly push them down off your shoulders and onto your arms, exposing the top part of your body down to your boobs. I step back and look at the adjustments I have made so far. Frankly even if you turned up in the tavern like this you would be getting a fair few desiring glances, but I am far from finished with the transformation.
You watch as I walk to a sideboard, open the top drawer and pull out a pair of long scissors. Standing before you again your sparkling eyes dart between mine and the scissors, a sense of expectation and the unknown written across your face.
Carefully I pull the bodice towards me, exposing more of the blouse and slowly start to cut down through the white fabric along the line of the bodice. It would be easier to ask you to take off the bodice to remove the blouse, but there is something exciting in slowly disrobing you especially as your corset and glorious orbs come into view as I cut down one side, and then the other, finally the triangular piece of material comes away in my hand and I step back again to admire my handiwork and your boobs.
"Make sure you wear a corset that is laced up the front and does not cover your tit's so much. I want them to be on show as much as possible." I say and with a wicked smile. I continue." You will be the hottest tease".
I step towards you again and take your hand and say "Now for the next improvement! I need you standing on the table!" You place one foot on the long bench and with my help carefully step up onto the table and move gingerly to the edge facing the scullery door. I move back to my observing position, look you up and down before moving back to you. Taking the white underskirt, I position the scissors along the line of the silk overskirt, and using it as a guide I carefully cut up the fabric moving slowly to your waist until I reach where the skirt is bound. My heart is beating like a drum and I hear your heavy breathing as the excitement builds.
I start on the other side of the skirt and repeat the slow careful cut until at the point I reach your waist, the cut piece of fabric falls between your feet. Once again, I step back and admire the naked transformation. I had made a point of focussing totally on the job in hand, but now I can admire you in your sluttish glory. You are wearing the finest pale stockings, silk suspenders attached to the corset holding then high on your thighs.
