Lara's Voluntary Enslavement

BY : CrossroadsMk2
Category: +S through Z > Tomb Raider (all) > Tomb Raider (all)
Dragon prints: 7854
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. I do not own the Tomb Raider game series, Lara Croft or any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

The Lara Croft portrayed in this story is a more arrogant, privileged and narcissistic version of the character.  In short, she is much more deserving of her fall down the social ladder, and the treatment that she receives from those she has mistreated and wronged.  My initial intention was to post the entire story around the middle of the year, but I’ve had a lot less time to write than I was hoping.  So instead, I’ll be posting the first 6 chapters at a rate of one per week.  Then I’ll post the final 5 or 6 chapters, one per week, towards the end of the year.  I’ve also listened to your suggestions and added a short recap at the start of each chapter.  Finally, I’ve created a new topic in the AFF Forum for updates and feedback:

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.


Lara paused in the corridor outside Zip’s room to admire her statuesque reflection in the mirror.  Lara knew that she was beautiful – everyone she met had told her so.  She had an angelic face, with perfectly symmetrical bone structure, high aristocratic cheekbones and full red lips.  Her entrancing brown eyes could stir the passions of any man who saw them, and her mythically long dark-brown hair flowed down her back like a silky waterfall.  She was tall like a model, at 5’9”, which gave her body a sleek and graceful appearance, despite the sensuous curves of her very feminine hourglass figure.

Her tiny waist, gorgeously firm bubble-butt and long athletic legs that seemed to go on for days spoke of many long hours spent exercising.   Her perfectly shaped D-cup breasts on the other hand, which seemed impossibly perky and round given their large size, were purely the blessing of genetics and good breeding.  In short, she had sculpted her appearance into an avatar of female perfection, which men lusted after but none would ever be truly worthy to possess.  Lara had dated several men in her life – all handsome, rich and successful – but she always felt like she was dating down and settling.  None of them ever measured up to ill-defined image of Prince Charming that she had in her head.

Lara knew that she would have to settle down eventually.  She imagined that when she finally decided to marry, it would be to a rich and famous Hollywood actor or a handsome billionaire CEO – anything less would be beneath her.  But that didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy flirting with ordinary men.  Lara had an almost compulsive need to be wanted and loved, and to be the centre of attention wherever she went.  A psychiatrist would have probably put these feelings down to a lack of affection and attention when Lara was a child: from a mother who died when she was only 8 years old, and a distant and largely absent father, more concerned with his career in archaeology than with raising his lonely daughter.

As a result, Lara constantly chased after male attention as a way to feel validated, but her impossibly high standards meant that she invariably viewed anyone she flirted with as being beneath her.  Unfortunately, the self-absorbed and egotistical Countess of Abingdon lacked the introspection to contemplate any of that.  As she walked barefoot into Zip’s computer room, all Lara was concerned with was stroking her own ego at his expense.

“Zip?  Do you think my butt looks big in this?” Lara asked from the doorway.

Lara felt a tinge of excitement run up her spine, as Zip spun around in his computer gaming chair and gawped at her body with undisguised lust.  Zip was Lara’s 27 year old African American tech expert, and Lara knew that he lusted after her – since everyone lusted after her.  Feeling in a wicked mood, Lara made a point of adjusting the cups of the skimpy yellow bikini she was wearing, giving zip a tantalising view of her cleavage and almost, but not quite, exposing her nipples.

“The top seems fine, but I’m not sure about the bottoms.” Lara said, turning around and deliberately arching her athletic 5’9” body, thereby drawing even more attention to her glorious round buttocks.

Zip’s fingers turned white as he gripped the arms of his chair more tightly, and Lara could see sweat starting to drip down his forehead, beneath his trendy, curly-spiked haircut.

“They… ah… seem fine to me.” Zip replied, crossing his legs to try and hide the raging 8 inch erection that was straining against the elastic of his Adidas tracksuit pants.

“Are you sure?  Are they supposed ride up my butt crack like this?” Lara asked innocently.

She shook her ass from side-to-side for emphasis, and Zip watched as the back of the bikini bottoms disappeared between the firm round globes of Lara’s glorious ass.

“Jesus!” Zip whispered under his breath, watching the thin line of material wedged between his boss’s buttocks, like a thin piece of dental floss.

“I guess it’ll do for now.” Lara replied nonchalantly.  “Thanks Zip!” She said brightly, before leaving him sitting dumbfounded at his computer.

As she walked down the corridor towards the grand staircase, she heard Zip closing and locking the door to his computer lab.  Lara grinned, knowing for certain that he was about to masturbate to a vivid mental image of her.  Lara knew it was cruel to tease him like that, but she loved the thrill she felt whenever she flaunted herself in front of her staff.  Of course, she would never actually consider dating someone like Zip: he was far beneath someone of her status and breeding.  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun with him.  Speaking of which…

Lara walked downstairs and along another long, wide corridor that led to her extensive library.  She suppressed a grin as she opened the heavy wooden door and sauntered into the Library, still wearing only in her yellow thong bikini.  She padded lightly into the room, her bare feet giving off hardly any sound against the cold stone floor – not that Allister would have noticed anyway.  As she expected, her 30 year old research assistant was surrounded by piles of heavy reference books, many of them open, while he typed furiously typed on his laptop.  Lara tiptoed up behind him and then spoke huskily into his ear.

“What are you working on?” Lara asked, enjoying the way her breath made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Allister looked up, startled.  Then he looked down at the deep cleavage between Lara’s large breasts, which were dangling down just inches from his face.

“I’m looking into… ah… I’m researching… um” Allister rambled, unable to put a coherent sentence together.

“Is that one of my father’s journals?” Lara asked, leaning across Allister’s chair so that the side of her breast rubbed against his face.

Allister was blushing furiously now, and Lara could see a 6 inch erection poking out through front of his trousers.

“I… ah…” Allister mumbled.

Alistair was dressed casually in a shirt and jeans, which did nothing to dispel the bohemian beatnik vibe that he broadcast to the world.  Between his shoulder-length brown hair and his hipster moustache and goatee, Allister looked like a modern-day hippie.

“Keep up the good work!” Lara said, kissing him on the cheek, before sauntering out of the room.

She could feel Allister’s eyes following her every movement and she purposefully exaggerated the subtle sway of her hips to tease him.  She paused by the door to adjust the back of her yellow bikini bottoms, pulling upwards on her yellow thong and deliberately giving herself a wedgie to expose even more of her creamy ass cheeks.

“Jesus!” She heard Allister whisper under his breath.

Lara grinned and exited the library.  As she walked back down the corridor, she heard the rapid footsteps of Allister running to the nearest toilet to masturbate.  He wouldn’t risk doing it in the library again – not after she had caught him 6 months earlier and teased him mercilessly about it.  She almost felt bad for him, but Allister had been bragging to anyone who’d listen about how he’d finally completed his PHD in archaeology at Oxford University, and Lara wanted to put him back in his place.

Lara heard the loud chime of the wall clock and looked up to check the time.  Shit, she thought!  Winston would be home soon from running his errands and she needed to go upstairs and dress in something more appropriate.  The last thing she needed was more disapproving looks from her old faithful butler.  In fact, Lara usually timed her blue-balling sessions to coincide with Winston’s absences from the Manor for that very reason.  Lara jogged lithely up the stairs, taking them two at a time and revelling in her youth and athleticism.  She found Tori, her maid, standing near the top of the stairs.  Tori’s feather duster was resting on the top of the bannister, and the pretty dark-haired maid was playing with her mobile phone. 

Despite Tori being less than a year older than Lara, they had little in common and were far from friends.  Tori had a pretty face and dark brown hair that hung down just below her shoulders.  Although only an inch shorter than Lara, their body types were completely different: whereas Lara’s figure was a perfect hourglass, Tori’s was definitely more pear-shaped.  Lara wouldn’t have called her fat, since Tori still had a relatively small waist for her size; but her breasts were smaller B-cups and her ass was even more voluptuous than Lara’s, giving Tori a bottom-heavy appearance.  She had a lot of junk in her trunk, as Zip liked to say.

Lara had caught Tori and Zip flirting with each other on several occasions, which immediately triggered Lara’s competitive streak.   Hence today’s blue-balling session, which was designed to put herself back at the centre of Zip’s attention, where she rightfully belonged.  It wasn’t even that Lara was jealous or wanted Zip for herself.  She just liked the attention he gave her, so naturally she didn’t want him giving any of that attention to someone else.  Lara noticed, with some annoyance, that Tori’s ass looked amazing in her tight-fitting black maid’s dress.  I’ll need to look into changing uniform to something less flattering, Lara thought to herself.

“Shouldn’t you be working or something?” Lara asked cattily.

“I’ve finished everything Winston left for me to do.” Tori answered, only looking up for a moment before returning her attention to her phone.

“Winston is the Head Butler at Croft Manor, and as a maid, you should refer to him as Mister Smith!” Lara said imperiously.

“This isn’t Downton Abby, Lara!  And besides, Winston doesn’t mind.” Tori replied.

“Well I do, and you should be addressing me as Lady Croft or My Lady!” Lara chastised her.

“But Zip and Allister call you Lara!” Tori argued.

“Zip and Allister are not household servants, but you and Winston are.” Lara said.

“My apologies, Lady Croft.” Tori answered sassily, before giving her a ridiculously exaggerated curtsy.  “Should I tell Mr Smith that you’ve been parading around half-naked in front of Allister and Zip again?” Tori asked sarcastically.

Lara’s cheeks reddened when she realised that her secret hobby was not so secret.  She stared at her impudent maid for a few moments longer, but realised that they were stuck in a deadlock.  If Lara told Winston about her sassy backtalk, then Tori would spill the beans on her blue-balling adventures.  Lara grunted with frustration: Tori always found a way of getting under her skin!  Lara would have fired her, except that Tori was actually a decently competent maid – when she wasn’t on her phone – and she was Allister’s younger sister.  Lara rolled her eyes and shook her head, before walking past the insolent maid and heading to her bedroom to dress.

Lara walked through her luxurious master bedroom and into her expansive walk-in closet, which was filled to bursting with expensive designer dresses, shoes, handbags and jewellery.  Lara knew she had spent more than she should have on her extravagant lifestyle in the last couple of years, but she felt that it was justified.  Her tomb raiding career had taken off, and now that she was a famous celebrity, she had a public image to maintain.  Lara looked through her wardrobe and selected an appropriate outfit for the business meeting she had scheduled for that afternoon.

After removing her yellow bikini, she slipped on a pair of G-string panties and a matching black bra.  Over the top, Lara wore an elegant Versace dress.  The tight-fitting black dress had cost her almost 2,000 pounds, but it was worth every penny.  The dress was knee length, with short slits at the sides that showed-off her long athletic legs, while still looking respectable.  The top of the dress was sleeveless and had two thin straps that left most of her shoulders exposed.  But the dress’s best feature, as far as Lara was concerned, was the wide round neckline.

On a small-breasted fashion model, the neckline dipped down across the chest, exposing only the uppermost portion of the woman’s cleavage; but when worn by a woman with Lara’s glorious physique, the upper portion of the dress bulged outwards, pulling tightly across the front as it struggled to accommodate her large breasts.  This had the effect of not only mashing her breasts against her chest, making them appear even rounder and fuller, but it left the deep central V-shape of her cleavage fully exposed.  Lara enhanced the affect even further by wearing an expensive diamond pendant on a delicate white-gold chain, which pointed down towards her cleavage like a sparkling arrow

Lara completed the outfit with a matching pair of diamond earrings and a pair of stylish black high heels.  Satisfied that she now looked like the magazine version of a wealthy and beautiful Countess, Lara walked across to her private ensuite to apply her makeup and style her hair.  30 minutes after she started dressing, Lara walked downstairs to where Winston was waiting for her.  She noticed, with some satisfaction, the Zip and Allister had also found an excuse to be in the main hall, so that they could gawk at her.  Lara pretended not to notice, although she felt her cheeks flush with excitement at the way they salivated over her like hungry wolves.

“Is the car ready, Winston?” Lara asked, pointedly ignoring Zip and Allister to show them that they were beneath her notice.

“It is, My Lady.” Winston answered.

Winston led the way out of the main hall, down the long central corridor that led past the kitchen, and out into the rear garage.  Winston looked every part the respectable butler, in his black three-piece suit.  His back was still ramrod straight, despite his being 59 years of age.  Lara believed it was a testament to his early years in the British Army, before he had come to serve the Croft family.  He had started to show his advanced age in other ways though: his once dark hair was now completely grey and thinning considerably at the top, and he was no longer as spritely as he once was; hence why Lara had been forced to hire Allister’s sister as a maid, to assist Winston in maintaining Croft Manor.

They walked out through Lara’s extensively renovated garage, past her shiny red Porsche 911 Turbo coupe, her three Ducati sports bikes, and the stylishly restored silver E-type Jaguar convertible that had once belonged to her father.  Down the end was Lara’s latest acquisition: a black Rolls Royce Phantom sedan that had replaced her 16 year old Bentley Arnage.  Not that there was anything specifically wrong with the Bentley.  Winston kept the vehicle in immaculate condition, as he did with all of her possessions.  It was simply starting to show its age, and as a famous celebrity, Lara could hardly be seen driving around in a 16 year old luxury car.

Winston opened the back passenger door for her, and Lara stepping inside into the opulent leather interior.  As per her instructions, Winston had left her laptop on the backseat for her to use on the long drive to London.  While Winston drove them down the long driveway, Lara turned her attention to computer spreadsheet that contained the current state of her finances.  Lara frowned at what she saw.  Simple people like Zip and Allister would never understand the financial pressures that a wealthy aristocrat like her faced.  She had learned recently that being rich was incredibly expensive.

When Lara’s father died, she had been left a fortune worth about 180 million pounds.  But the government had immediately taken 70 million of that in the form of Inheritance Tax, and another 80 million pounds was tied-up in her enormous estate.  Croft Manor had also turned into something of a money pit: it had taken almost 20 million pounds to conduct essential repairs and much-needed renovations to the grand old house.  That only left Lara with around 10 million pounds of cash in her bank accounts.

That probably sounded like a lot of money to an ordinary person, but not to a high born Lady like her, with equally high expenses.  Heating and maintaining an enormous building like Croft Manor was ruinously expensive.  Add to that insurance costs, land tax, council rates, upkeep for the sprawling gardens and grounds, and the salaries of her staff, and Lara found herself spending close to half a million pounds a year just to maintain her lifestyle.  And that didn’t even included the hundreds of thousands of pounds that she’d spent on cars, bikes and her expensive jewellery and wardrobe.  But by far the largest expense had been her chosen career as a Tomb Raider.

Each time she hired a private just to fly her from England to Africa or South America, it cost Lara around 50,000 pounds each way, while hiring a military cargo plane to parachute down vehicles and supplies to a remote location cost double that amount.  That wouldn’t have been a problem if she sold all of the artefacts she recovered while tomb raiding, except that she didn’t.  Most of the artefacts she discovered were either donated to the British Museum, to raise her public profile, or found their way into her private collection.

When it came to archaeology, Lara was something of a hoarder, and her family vault was filled with rare treasures from around the world.  She was always loath to sell anything, both because she felt a personal connection to each item she brought back, and because she feared inadvertently giving away rare items that might hold the key to even greater discoveries.  Recently, owing to her growing financial problems, Lara had been forced to sell several small but valuable items at public auction.  These had immediately been snapped up by her arch-nemesis, Jacqueline Natla, which made Lara worry that she had made a terrible mistake parting with them.

With her funds running dangerously low, Lara had taken out a bank loan against the equity in her Estate.  The loan was only a few million pounds at first, but as her expenses kept increasing at a rate far greater than her income, she’d been forced to refinance the loan and borrow more.  Now, some 6 years later, she was once again broke and she owed the bank almost 10 million pounds.  Today she was meeting with her personal banker in the hope that she could secure another half a million pounds, to finance her latest tomb raiding adventure.  If she succeeded, she felt certain that her next discovery would yield a vast treasure that would turn her fortunes around.

At the end of the two hour drive to London, Winston dropped her off in front of the bank: an imposing sandstone building with a grand front entrance, flanked by large vertical columns.  Once inside, Lara was escorted into a private office, reserved for the bank’s most important clients.  Lara was waiting for less than a minute before John Baum, her personal banker, hurried into the office.  Mr Baum was short and thin, with receding brown hair and a serious face, framed by thick-rimmed round glasses.  He was dressed in the sort plain brown business suit that all bankers seemed to wear, as if it was some sort of unofficial uniform.  Lara had no interest in Mr Baum at all, and under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have given him the time of day.

“Mr Baum, thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice.” Lara said, standing up to shake his hand.

As he gripped her fingers and gave her hand an offputtingly limp-wristed shake, Lara ran her other hand suggestively up his forearm.  Mr Baum blushed and walked around to sit on the other side of the desk.  Lara sat down in her chair, making sure to lean forward and give Mr Baum a clear view down the front of her dress.  Then she crossed her legs while subtly lifting the hem of her dress higher, to expose more of her naked thighs.

“Actually, it’s rather fortunate timing, since my superiors wanted me to meet with you anyway.” Mr Baum said, glancing down at Lara’s partially-exposed cleavage.

“Oh?” Lara said sweetly, leaning forward as if she was intrigued, and deliberately showing off even more cleavage.

“It… ah… concerns your loan.” Mr Baum said, trying desperately to regain his line of thought.

“Actually, I was hoping we might be able to renegotiate my loan one last time.” Lara said.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Lady Croft.” Mr Baum answered, unconsciously adjusting the tight collar of his shirt.

“Please, call me Lara.” Lara said, crossing her arms and causing her round breasts to push up and together.

“Um, Lara, I’m afraid that the bank can no longer overlook your deteriorating debt to income ratio.” Mr Baum said.

Lara knew what she had to do.  She took a deep breath and stood up, stretching out her body and giving the small banker a perfect view of her exquisite figure.

“I do hate these formal settings.  Do you mind if I move my chair around and talk to you like a person?” Lara asked.

“I... suppose that would be alright.” Mr Baum answered.

Lara pulled her chair around to his side of desk and sat back down.

“This is much better, isn’t it?” Lara said, leaning forward.

Mr Baum was visibly reddening.

“As I was saying, your debt to the bank has risen to over 10 million pounds, and you have no regular income to speak of.” Mr Baum said.

“What about my computer game royalties?” Lara interjected.

“I’m afraid that revenue stream has steadily declined and now accounts for only a few hundred thousand pounds each year.” Mr Baum said.  “Given these facts, the bank will have no choice but to foreclose.”

“But I just need a little more time!” Lara interrupted.

“We’ve already given you six extensions.” Mr Baum said.

“But I’ve found a lost Aztec Temple in Central America!” Lara protested.

“That’s all good and well but…” Mr Baum said.

“And do you know that the Aztecs are most famous for?  Gold!  The bank will get all its money back, with interest!  I just need a little money to help finance my trip.” Lara explained.

“That’s quite impossible.” Mr Baum said.

Lara couldn’t believe how pig-headed the stupid little banker was being.  Didn’t he realise that Lara was the greatest archaeologist and Tomb Raider in the world?  She realised that she needed to take a more direct approach to convince him.

“There must be something you can do?” Lara cooed.

She placed a hand on his thigh, and slowly ran it up his leg and over his crotch.

“And I’d be ever so grateful.” Lara whispered suggestively.

Mr’s Baum’s face had gone completely red and perspiration was streaking down his forehead.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  Lara planted seductive kisses down the side of his neck, while her hand slowly unzipped the fly of his pants.

“Mmmm, such a handsome cock!” Lara cooed into his ear.

It was a lie, of course.  Mr Baum’s cock was short and thin, just like he was, but Lara knew that flattery was her best friend in situations like these.  Over the years, she’d regularly used her powers of seduction to convince uncooperative men to do what she wanted.  Whether she was dealing with corrupt police, dangerous criminals or intractable bureaucrats, Lara found that a few flirtatious words and a cheeky handjob were usually enough to obtain their cooperation.  She knew her behaviour wasn’t exactly lady-like, but she didn’t consider herself a slut, since a handjob wasn’t really sex.

“Ugghh!” Mr Baum moaned, as Lara slid her soft fingers up and down his erect cock.

Lara leaned forward and dribbled a long line of saliva down onto the swollen head of Mr Baum’s cock.  She rubbed her hand up and down the shaft, lubricating his cock with her saliva until it was wet and glistening.

“I know you want to help me, Mr Baum.” Lara moaned seductively into his ear.

“Oh, yes!”  Mr Baum answered breathlessly.

“I just need half a million pounds.” Lara said.

“It’s not up to me.” Mr Baum gasped.

“But surely there’s something you can do?” Lara insisted, jerking her hand up and down on his cock, faster and faster.

The room was filled with the fapping sounds of slapping, naked flesh.

“Ahhhhh!” Mr Baum groaned.

He was sweating freely now and his breathing grew increasingly erratic.

“So, can I have the money?” Lara asked again.

“I can’t…” Mr Baum answered.

Lara abruptly removed her hand from Mr Baum’s glistening cock.

“Hey… why did you stop?” Mr Baum protested, while blushing furiously.

“You don’t get what you want until I get what I want.” Lara answered, deciding to play hardball.

“But, I’m so close!” Mr Baum protested.

“Then you know what you need to do!” Lara insisted.

“It really isn’t up to me.  The board is calling in your loan.  That’s what this meeting is all about.  You haven’t made any repayments in over a year, so they’ve decided to begin foreclosure proceedings.  You have 30 days to repay the loan in full, or the bank will sell off your assets to settle your debt.” Mr Baum said.

“They can’t do that!” Lara protested.

“You shouldn’t worry too much.  I’ve seen the figures and the sale of your estate will more than cover you debt, and leave you a sizeable fortune afterwards.” Mr Baum said.  “Now, if we could we finish…”

Lara stormed out of the room without a backward glance, leaving the horny and frustrated bank manager to sort out his own orgasm.  This was a disaster, she thought!  She couldn’t let them sell off her estate!  Croft Manor had been in her family for 11 generations!  Without her Abingdon Estate, her title of Countess would be virtually meaningless – just a vestigial reminder of her former greatness.  Lara walked from the bank and found Winston parked a short distance away.

“Is everything alright, my Lady?” Winston asked, stepping from the driver’s seat.

“Take me home!” Lara answered, not waiting for him to open the door for her.

She swung open the rear passenger and stepped inside.  Winston stepped back into the driver’s seat and started the Rolls Royce.  After a few minutes, Lara opened up to him about what had happened, although she skipped the part about giving the bank manager a handjob: Winston definitely wouldn’t have approved of that!

“What will you do?” Winston asked.

“I’ll have to find an alternative means of finance.” Lara said.

This turned out to be far simpler said than done.  Over the next few days, Lara contacted countless private banks, attempting to re-finance her loans.  Their answer was always that same: without a steady stream of income, none of them were prepared to loan her any money.  The less-regulated credit unions were prepared to loan her funds, but with predatory interest rates that would have financially ruined her within a couple of years.  Feeling defeated, Lara decided not to think about it and instead get ready for the charity party she was going to be attending that night.

The charity parties were a regular part of the upper-class London social calendar, and Lara had hosted one herself at Croft Manor just a year earlier.  She frowned suddenly, as she remembered that she had pledged to donate 250,000 pounds at the next Charity fundraiser.  That obviously was no longer an option, given her greatly reduced circumstances, but reneging on her commitment would be a PR disaster.  Perhaps she could promise to raise the money in some other way – like a charity run or some form of sponsored event?

Lara finished showering, being especially careful not to wet her long hair, which had been professionally styled into a tight and elegant braid that hung down to her lower back.  She quickly dried herself off and applied her makeup.  She decided to go with a natural look, not wanting to overdo the foundation and eyeliner, although she couldn’t resist applying a thick coat of blood-red lipstick to her bee-stung lips.  Then, after a few sprays of her favourite expensive French perfume, it was time to select her outfit for the evening.

The dress she chose for the occasion was a recent purchase from Saint Laurent – her favourite fashion designer.  The backless red dress had a halter-neck design that looped up behind her slender neck and showed-off her toned shoulders and the sensual curve of her naked lower back.  The neckline plunged downwards across her collar bones and chest, before meeting in a deep V-shape below her breasts.  The plunging neckline meant that she couldn’t wear a bra, and the design left all of Lara’s glorious middle cleavage on full displace; but the tightly-cinched waist of the dress kept the halter-neck from flopping outwards, so she wasn’t flashing any side-boob.  Not that Lara minded flashing side-boob, since she’d done it many times in the past.  It just wasn’t fashionable to do so at the moment.

The bottom of the dress was pleated and flared outwards slightly from her hourglass hip.  It ended just above her knees, showing off her long athletic legs, which looked even sexier thanks to the black Christian Louboutin high heels she was wearing.  The luxury 5 inch high heels were made from shiny black patent leather, which looked fantastic when contrasted against the vibrant red colour of the iconic red-bottomed soles that were Louboutin’s signature design.  The high heels looked incredibly stylish and sexy, but most importantly they were instantly recognisable to any woman in her social circle as being the height of fashion and luxury.

Lara finished the outfit off with a small black leather clutch handbag, also from Saint Laurent, and an assortment of expensive jewellery: a white pearl necklace that had once belonged to her mother; a matching set of pearl earrings, and an elegant white-gold bracelet chained around her left wrist.  On their own, her dress and shoes were worth more than many working-class people made in a month.  With her expensive jewellery added, her outfit was worth more than most working-class people made in a year.

Lara sauntered gracefully down the wide staircase that led down into the main hall of Croft Manor, enjoying both the lust-filled stares of Zip and Allister and the jealous glances from Tori.  Maybe Lara would keep Tori around after all, just so that she could rub her wealth and social status in Tori’s face.  The thought made Lara shiver with pleasure.  Lara strode out the front entrance, where Winston was waiting with the Rolls Royce.  Then she was off, on her way to London and the charity party.

Lara didn’t even know which social cause the Charity was fundraising for, as it changed every year to whatever cause would bring the most positive publicity.  Lara only attended these events to raise her public profile, and despite her lofty words to the contrary, she was too focused on her own career to worry about the problems of ordinary people.  Neither did she bother to learn which donor would be hosting tonight’s party – she had simply handed Winston her written invitation and trusted him to deliver her to the address.

They arrived outside a newly-built luxury apartment tower located near the heart of London.  The venue for the party was the enormous penthouse, which took up all of the top two floors.  As she stepped from the backseat of her Rolls Royce, she was lit up by the bright camera flashes, as the paparazzi and tabloid photographers vied to get the best pictures of the wealthy celebrities attending the event.  Lara feigned an heir of indifference, pretending to disdain all of the attention she was receiving from the media.  Secretely though, she loved being the centre of attention, which was why she chose to wear such tight and revealing outfits.

Lara walked gracefully towards the front door, basking in the spotlight of their attention, while ignoring the shouted questions from the throng of photographers and journalists.  She handed her invitation to the security guard at the front door and then rode the elevator with several other guests, up to the penthouse.  All of the male guests were wearing black tuxedos or three piece suits, while the ladies were dressed in reserved black, white or pastel coloured cocktail dresses and evening gowns.  Lara had deliberately chosen her vibrant red dress to stand out; and she succeeded, instantly becoming the centre of attention as soon as she stepped out of the elevator.

The reception room was enormous, with at least a hundred guests standing around, talking and drinking, while black-uniformed waiting staff threaded in-between them, carrying silver trays of refreshments.  Lara walked around the room with well-practiced ease, greeting and making small talk with the wealthy aristocrats, businessmen and philanthropists present.  Then she caught sight of someone completely unexpected: Sarah Green.

Lara hadn’t seen Sarah Green in years, and there relationship had been complicated.  They’d both attended the same private girls’ boarding school.  They had even been best friends, until Sarah, a closet lesbian, had shockingly kissed her.  Lara had been too surprised to react.  She’d never kissed anyone before, male or female, and she found herself unconsciously closing her eyes and kissing Sarah back.  Then they were discovered by another girl, who ran to tell a teacher what she had seen.

As Sarah and Lara were both from wealthy families, there was never any real danger of either of them being formally expelled, but the cruel rumours that spread as a result caused them both to feel ostracised.  Already feeling isolated and alone after her parents had died, Lara couldn’t handle the incessant teasing and eventually denounced Sarah as a lesbian and disavowed her friendship with her.  Part of her felt guilty at how she had treated Sarah, who had shown her nothing but kindness and affections; but a more selfish part of her personality blamed Sarah for putting her in that situation and making her a virtual outcast at the school.  Her betrayal left Sarah completely distraught, and she ended up transferring to another school a few weeks later.

It turned out to all be for nothing, as Lara wound up becoming a loner anyway.  None of the other girls wanted anything to do with her – half because they still thought she was a closet lesbian and the other half because they thought she was a bitch for betraying her best friend.  Less than a year later, she convinced Winston, her legal guardian at the time, to let her drop out of school and follow in her late father’s footsteps as an archaeologist.  And as the years passed, Lara became even more narcissistic and self-centred, focusing only on increasing her own fame and not caring about who got hurt in the process.

Lara felt a shiver run up her spine, as they made eye contact for the first time in 9 years.  Sarah looked stunning in her flowing white evening gown, which looked even more expensive than Lara’s designer dress.  Sarah’s long blonde hair had been styled into an elegant plait, which hung down to her upper back, and her long-sleeve dress looked like something a Disney Princess would wear.  It made Lara’s outfit feel showy and cheap by comparison, and she felt instantly jealous at being upstaged.  Sarah was one of the only women Lara had ever met who matched her beauty, although each of them was beautiful in a different way.  Lara’s beauty was the fierce and graceful beauty of a jungle panther, whereas Sarah’s was the elegant and delicate beauty of a white swan.

Sarah was a couple of inches shorter than Lara and had the long petite figure synonymous with fashion models: long graceful legs, a slender waist, perky little B-cup breasts and a tight little ass.  In fact, with her hair styled as it was and wearing that dress, anyone could have been forgiven for mistaking Sarah for a performer in a high end theatrical production of Disney’s Frozen.

“Lara, I’m so glad you could make it.” Sarah said, smiling warmly.

Lara forced a smile onto her own face, as she didn’t want to make a scene or appear petty.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” Lara said.

“I don’t see why?  This is my penthouse, after all.” Sarah laughed.

Several nearby women had taken an interest in their conversation and overheard Sarah’s comment.  They seemed to find it amusing that Lara didn’t know whose house she was in and also burst out in polite laughter.  Lara hated being teased, and her mood worsened.

“I just meant that I haven’t seen you at one of these Charity events before.” Lara said, trying to control her temper.

“I prefer to donate anonymously.  Far too many celebrities only donate to charity for the free publicity and so they can feel important.  Wouldn’t you agree?” Sarah said.

Lara fell silent, since that was exactly what she had been planning to do.

“Wait, aren’t you donating 250,000 pounds tonight?” Sarah asked with mock innocence.

Lara’s jaw dropped and the women nearby gasped with a mixture of horror and anticipation, as they wondered if they were about to witness a very public spat.

“Oh, I didn’t mean you!” Sarah giggled, placing a hand on Lara’s upper arm.  “You know I’m just teasing!”

It took all of Lara’s self-control not to shake-off Sarah’s touch.  Instead, she forced herself to smile and laugh, all the while staring daggers at her former friend.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you privately, before the dinner gets underway.” Sarah said.

Before Lara could answer, Sarah had placed a hand on the small of her back and was guiding her towards a nearby door.  Lara’s cheeks flushed with annoyance at Sarah’s presumption of touching her uninvited, but she held her tongue to avoid making a scene.  Sarah opened the door and led her through to a large study, before locking the door behind them.  Now safely in private, Lara took a deep breath, ready to give her rude former schoolmate a piece of her mind, but then Sarah said something that completely knocked the wind out of her.

“So, I’ve heard about your financial troubles…” Sarah said.

Lara was horrified.  Someone must have blabbed – maybe it was that creepy little bank manager!  Lara had always mistrusted men with weak handshakes!  Now everyone would be gossiping about her financial problems and gloating over her downfall.

“Who told you about that?” Lara asked defensively.

“My dad was a banker for over 40 years, and I still have a lot of contacts in that world, so I hear things.” Sarah said.

Lara felt sick.  This was supposed to be a night to forget about her financial woes, and now Sarah had found out and would use that information to humiliate her in front of her social peers.

“Please, Sarah, we used to be friends once!  You can’t tell anyone about this!” Lara pleaded.

Sarah held up a hand.

“Relax!  I haven’t brought you in here to rub it in your face.  In fact, I thought I might be able to help you out.” Sarah said.

Now Lara’s eyes lit up.  Sarah was the sole heir to her recently deceased father’s billion dollar banking fortune.  If there was anyone she knew who had the money to bail her out, it was Sarah

“You mean you’re willing to loan me the money?” Lara asked hopefully.

“Not loan it to you, but I am prepared to let you earn it.” Sarah said.

Lara stared at the other woman in confusion, trying to work out if she was joking.

“You want me to come and work for you?” Lara asked.

Sarah smiled and nodded.  “But before we get into exactly what the job is, let me tell you exactly what I’m offering.  Right now, you currently owe the bank around 10 million pounds.  Correct?” Sarah asked.

Lara nodded.

“And you’ve promised to donate another 250,000 pounds at tonight’s charity event, which you also don’t have.  Correct?” Sarah asked.

Lara blushed with shame and nodded.  It was so unfair that a lowborn woman like Sarah, who didn’t even have an aristocratic title, should be blessed with so much wealth.  In the good old days, she would have been dispossessed by her betters.  It offended Lara’s sensibilities that in today’s world, money counted for more than class and breeding.  However, she kept these thoughts to herself, as she was forced to beg for scraps from this commoner’s table.

“I’m prepared to give you 1 million pounds to donate tonight, as a show of good faith.  That should raise your public profile a great deal, I would imagine.” Sarah said.

Lara nodded.  A donation like that would guarantee a story in all of the major newspapers.

“I’m also prepared to give you 10 million pounds to clear you debts, and another 10 million pounds at the conclusion of our deal, so that you can continue tomb raiding to your heart’s content.” Sarah said.

Lara couldn’t help but feel excited.  With all of her debts cleared and 10 million pounds at her disposal, there would be nothing to stop Lara from finding yet more ancient treasures.  Perhaps she’d even agree to sell some of them this time around.  However, this raised another uncomfortable question: just what sort of work did Sarah want her to perform that would justify paying her 20 million pounds?

“What would you want in return for this generous gift?” Lara asked suspiciously.

“You!” Sarah said triumphantly.

Lara swallowed.  She should have seen this coming.  Sarah was a lesbian and had tried to come onto her before.

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” Lara asked.

Now it was Sarah’s turn to laugh.

“My, my, we do think highly of ourselves, don’t we?” Sarah said.  “No, I don’t want you to be my girlfriend; I want you to be my sex slave.”

“What?  Are you insane?” Lara exclaimed.

If Lara had been drinking at that moment, she would have spat out whatever was in her mouth.  She made to walk towards the door, but Sarah’s cold voice stopped her.

“Walk out that door and I’ll tell everyone that you’re broke and that you’re reneging on your promise to donate money to the Charity!  And when you’re kicked out of your estate, I’ll also make sure that I’m the one who buys Croft Manor, and I’ll turn it into a shopping mall!” Sarah said.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Lara said.

“Try me!” Sarah answered with conviction.

Lara felt like her world was crumbling down around her.  She felt light headed and leaned against the desk in front of her.  Sarah used that opportunity to wrap a reassuring arm around Lara’s shoulders, as if to steady her, although Lara couldn’t help but notice the predatory look on the other woman’s face.

“At least listen to my proposal, before you make a decision.” Sarah said reasonably.

Lara felt herself deflate as she slumped down onto a nearby chair.

“I’m offering to pay you 20 million pounds in cash, and all I’m asking in return is one year of your life.  I happen to think that’s a very fair deal.” Sarah said.

Lara wanted to laugh in Sarah’s face and storm out of the room.  She wanted to scold the other woman for her impertinence and shout at her that Lara Croft could not be bought at any price.  But she didn’t do either of those things, because she desperately needed the money, and Sarah knew it.  Lara started wondering exactly what her duties as a sex slave would be.  She imagined herself dressed in sexy lingerie, giving Sarah erotic massages before orally pleasuring her to climax.  Lara had never slept with a woman before, but she knew what felt good for her, so how hard could it be, she wondered?

“Even if I were to consider it…” Lara said, hating the triumphant smile that spread across Sarah’s face, “There’s no way we could keep something like that a secret.”

“I agree, we’d need a cover story to explain why we were spending so much time together.  I thought we could use the Charity as a cover.” Sarah said.

“What do you mean?” Lara asked, not following her explanation.

“Well, you know how people get sponsorships for running across the country or sailing solo around the world?” Sarah asked.

Lara nodded.

“Well, all we have to do is convince everyone that you’re making a similar sacrifice to raise money.  I’ll even donate 10 million pounds myself, just to make it believable.” Sarah said.

Lara gritted her teeth in anger at the way Sarah was flaunting her vast wealth.  She was taking about an amount of money equal to Lara’s total debt, and she was giving it away as if it was simply petty cash. 

“So, what’s your plan?” Lara asked finally.

“You’ll agree to come and work for me as part of a fund raising PR stunt.  Think of something like undercover bosses.” Sarah said.

Lara frowned at the thought of working as Sarah’s personal assistant.  Being another person’s secretary was getting dangerously close to being a servant, but what choice did she have?

“I don’t want to tell you any specifics, because I want you to act surprised when we announce it – otherwise people might suspect that it’s a setup.” Sarah continued.

“I… I guess that makes sense.” Lara said.

“So, you’ll agree?” Sarah asked.

Lara nodded, and Sarah smiled triumphantly.

“Good.  Now give me your bank account details.” Sarah said.

Lara pulled out her phone and Sarah did the same.  Within minutes, Lara’s eyes widened in disbelief when she saw one million pounds had been transferred into her account.

“That’s a down payment, so you can go through with your donation tonight, but I’m going to need a small token from you, to prove that you’re on board with my proposal.” Sarah said.

“What sort of token?” Lara asked.

“Your panties.” Sarah said.

“I beg your pardon?” Lara asked, outraged.

“Oh, quit being such a prude.  You just agreed to be my sex slave for a year.  I hardly think that asking for you panties is such a great sacrifice on your part!” Sarah said.

Lara scowled but then reached up underneath her red dress and pulled down her red G-string.  She always wore G-strings under gowns like these to avoid having a visible panty line.  Sarah smiled as she took the sexy red panties from Lara’s hand like a trophy.  She walked over and placed them inside a desk drawer before returning to Lara’s side.

“Alright!  After the donations, I want you to propose that you could run across Europe for one year, to raise money for charity.  Then I’ll propose an alternative, which you will agree to.  Understood?” Sarah asked.

Lara nodded, feeling very uneasy that she didn’t know exactly what Sarah was planning.  Sarah led her out of the study and back to the main party.  The guests were now slowly migrating into several large groups, and Sarah led her into the midst of one that contained most of the older women.  The men might have provided most of the money upon which the charity relied, but it was largely their wives who ran it.  They made small talk for almost 15 minutes, with Lara standing silently by, merely smiling and nodding politely, where appropriate.

Then Sarah suddenly said, “Oh, where are my manners.  Ladies, I’d like to announce that Lara here has decided to make a 1 million dollar donation to the Charity tonight.”

The women all burst into polite applause, which soon spread throughout the room as news of Lara’s generosity spread.  Despite her uneasiness, Lara felt herself swell with pride at receiving such lavish praise.  Lara loved to be the centre of attention, and now she got her wish, as every person in the room was looking in her direction.  Sarah congratulated Lara in a loud voice, calling her by her first name, rather than Lady Croft.  One of the older women commented on how familiar Sarah and Lara seemed – a barbed critique of the fact that Sarah was not using Lara’s noble title.

“Lara and I went to school together, so she doesn’t mind if I call her by her first name.” Sarah answered.

Lara certainly did mind, but she was smart enough to disguise that fact and forced herself to smile and nod in agreement.

“She was telling me earlier about a great idea she had to raise money for the Charity.”

“I thought…” Lara started to say.

“Speak up!” Someone called from the back.

Lara cleared her throat.  “I thought maybe I could volunteer to do a run across Europe for a year.  It should be great publicity and I’d be able to raise donations for the Charity.” Lara said.

There was a low murmuring that indicated that the assembled philanthropists were not particularly impressed by that idea.

“It’s not very original.” One man said.

“Why would people want to donate money for that?” Another added.

Sarah held up her hands for silence.

“I think what they’re saying, Lara, is that you’re already famed for your love of exercise and the outdoors – so you offering to do that kind of thing is not really a sacrifice, is it?” Sarah said.

Lara frowned.  “I guess not.” She answered.

“What we need is an activity that will generate genuine interest from the common people, and set an example for them to follow.” Sarah mused.

Sarah pretended to think and then had a moment of inspiration.

“I have a wicked idea.”  Sarah said with a mischievous grin.

That instantly had the room’s attention.  The people inside were all wealthy and jaded, and so they loved any sort of salacious gossip or distraction to alleviate the boredom of their pampered lives.

“Lara is a high-born English Countess… so what if she gave that up for one year?” Sarah said.

The room buzzed with conversation and shouted questions.  What did Sarah mean?  What would Lara be doing?  Sarah held up her hands again for silence.

“I propose that Lara renounces her privileged lifestyle for one year to become a common maid.” Sarah said.

The room burst into excited laughter and conversation.  Despite her earlier promise to agree to anything that Sarah proposed, Lara couldn’t help but object.

“You can’t be serious?” Lara said.

“I’m perfectly serious.” Sarah answered.

“But… a year is so long!” Lara said, hoping against the odds that maybe she could renegotiate, but Sarah was having none of it.

“If we don’t make the period long enough, then it’ll just appear as though you’re playing dress-ups, rather than actually experiencing life at the bottom.  I know it’s a great sacrifice, which is why I’m prepared to donate 10 million pounds to the charity, if you’ll go through with it.” Sarah said.  “And I’m sure that most of those present would be prepared to pay handsomely for the privilege of being waited upon by a noble Countess at our next charity dinner.”

There were excited whispers from the gathered men and women, and all eyes turned to Lara to see what she would do.  Lara felt like she was going to be sick.  A maid was the lowest servant in a noble household.  It was unthinkable that a high born Countess like herself should ever be forced to work as one.  But Lara was dismayed to see that her revulsion was not shared by the men and women around her.

“How scandalous!” One woman said with undisguised excitement.

“I’d certainly pay to see that!” An older woman said, and her comments were echoed by others.

Then Mr Greyson, the charity’s treasurer spoke.  Lara hoped that he would denounce the idea as ridiculous, but instead he said, “I think it’s a marvellous idea!  It would certainly generate a lot of positive publicity for the Charity.  Lady to maid tales are always very popular with the lower classes.”

His comments seemed to open the floodgates, and soon everyone was praising the idea.

“But how can Lara be a Countess and a maid at the same time?” One of the ladies asked.

Sarah had arranged for that question to be asked ahead of time, and she answered it instantly.

“That’s a good point.  I think for it to be an authentic Lady to Maid experience, Lara should temporarily sign over her title of Countess to me for safe keeping.” Sarah said.

“What?” Lara shouted in outrage.

“I’m also prepared to move into Croft Manor, so that Lara won’t have to serve as a maid in unfamiliar surroundings.” Sarah said.

“Out of the question!” Lara shouted vehemently.

The smiles on the onlookers’ faces faded, as they thought that Sarah might have gone too far.  But then they looked over from Lara’s apparently angry face to the calm smiling face of Sarah and realised that it must be part of an act the two of them had cooked up to build the excitement.

“I think she’s worried that Sarah will get a taste for being a Countess and won’t want to give the title back!” Someone shouted, to much laughter.

Lara was shocked by how easily her social peers were accepting this horrible proposal.  Didn’t they realise that they were about to send one of their own tumbling down the social ladder?  Didn’t they care, she wondered?  Sarah held up her hands.

“My friends, everything is going to be legal and above board, with contracts and lawyers.  But I think Lara is worried that no-one else will donate, so can I ask for a show of hands.  Who is prepared to donate 10,000 pounds tonight, if Lara agrees to this?” Sarah asked.

A hundred eager hands shot into the air.  10,000 pounds was nothing to people like these and they were all intrigued by the idea of the beautiful and famous Lady Lara Croft being reduced to the status of common house maid.  More than a few were also imagining all sorts of wicked things that a lesbian mistress like Sarah would be doing with her pretty little maid.

“There’s another million pounds raised for the Charity!  Please give Lara a round of applause, for being such a great sport and an unflinching supporter of the Charity!” Sarah said loudly.

The room was filled with thunderous applause, which drowned out the last of Lara’s objections.

“I’ll inform the press and arrange for a photographer to take photos of the signing ceremony to seal the deal.  It’ll be great publicity for the Charity!” Mr Greyson said.

Lara felt like she would vomit.  What had she just publicly agreed to?


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