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Tomb Raider: Natla’s Revenge.	By : CrossroadsMk2 Category: +S through Z > Tomb Raider (all) > Tomb Raider (all) Views: 75688 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. I do not own the Tomb Raider game series, Lara Croft or any of the other characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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- 2
Lara stepped forward under the gushing shower head and tilted her face upwards, enjoying the feeling of hot water cascading down her naked body. She rubbed her hands all over her soft skin, washing away the coconut-scented body wash that lathered her from the neck down. After a hard workout, there was nothing more refreshing than a nice hot shower. Lara’s good mood was not to last: she turned off the shower and reached out into her steam-filled ensuite bathroom for a towel, but her fingers found only a bare, stainless steel rail.
“Sarah!” Lara shouted out. There was no reply and Lara repeated her shout, “Sarah!!!”
Grumbling to herself, Lara stepped out of the shower, dripping water all over the cold tiled floor, and walked towards the newly installed intercom.
Pressing the transmit button, Lara spoke into the intercom. “Sarah, you forgot to replace the towels again!”
After about 10 seconds, the intercom crackled into life. “Sorry, Lady Croft. After I collected the dirty ones, Winston said he needed help with the…” Sarah started to say, before Lara mashed down the transmit button and cut her off.
“No more excuses, Sarah. Bring me a bloody towel!” Lara said.
“Yes, Lady Croft.” Sarah answered.
Lara sighed. Sarah had only been working for her for 6 weeks. Lara had hired the young maid to help her ageing butler, Winston, keep the large manor house neat and tidy. She did good work, when she managed to stay focused, but she always seemed to be getting distracted and leaving jobs half finished – like today. Part of the problem, Lara knew, was her young age. Sarah was only 19 years old, and this was her first time away from home. She was studying fashion design at a local arts college, and had taken the job with Lara because it provided free room and board, as well as a small income to support her studies.
Lara suspected that Sarah was daydreaming about some boy she had a crush on. Lara had just turned 26, but she remembered being young and full of hormones. She’d tried to bring it up with the young blonde on several occasions, but each time Sarah had vehemently denied it. She’d even gone so far as to say that she had no interest in boys at all, but Lara didn’t buy it for a minute.
Lara heard Sarah enter the ensuite and turned around. Sarah was dressed in a modest black maid’s outfit – essentially a high necked black dress that ran from collar bone to knees, with a white collar, white puffy sleeves that ran halfway down her upper arms, and a white apron at the front, tied around her slim waist. The blonde maid was staring, open mouthed, at Lara’s naked body.
“Sarah…” Lara prompted, waiting for the blonde to handover the towel she was holding.
Sarah stopped in her tracks, her blue eyes staring adoringly at Lara’s wet, naked body. She is so beautiful, Sarah thought longingly. She unconsciously bit her lower lip as her eyes travelled up Lara’s long, lightly tanned legs, over her tight, shaved pussy, peeking out between her tiny thigh-gap, up Lara’s flat stomach and hourglass waist, and over her gorgeous D-cup breasts, which were perfectly proportioned and seemed to defy gravity…”
“Earth to Sarah!” Lara said, clicking her fingers in Sarah’s face.
Sarah snapped out of her reverie and blushed. “Sorry, Lady Croft.”
They stood staring at each other in awkward silence for several seconds.
“Towel???” Lara asked, exasperated.
Sarah finally remembered why she was there, and handed the naked tomb raider a towel. As Lara started drying herself, the young maid continued to stare at her.
Lara rolled her eyes. “You can go and help Winston now, Sarah.” Lara said.
“Yes, Lady Croft.” Sarah answered, still blushing as she retreated from the steamy bathroom.
I’ll need to talk to Winston about her, Lara thought. She’s a nice girl, but if her performance doesn’t improve, I’ll have no choice but to let her go. Lara finished drying herself and then walked from ensuite bathroom, through her luxurious master bedroom, and into her large walk-in robe.
Her wardrobe had changed significantly in the past year. Previously, Lara had survived on a sartorial diet of tight shorts, tank tops and combat boots; but in the last year, she had started wearing more elegant and feminine attire, much to Winston’s delight. This was all part of a concerted effort, on her part, to obtain a lecturing position at the nearby Oxford University.
Lara had been interested in archaeology from a very early age. Her mother, Lady Amelia Croft, had died in a plane crash over the Himalayas when she was just 8 years old. Her father, Lord Richard Croft, had done his best to raise her, but he was away on archaeological digs for much of the year, which left most of her upbringing in the hands of their trusted butler, Winston. Still, she spent practically every school holiday with her father on one of his digs, and all of the exotic locations and ancient tombs just increased her love of archaeology.
That happy period ended when her father died in a cave-in in Central America, just after her 16^th birthday. That led to a long and expensive legal battle with her uncle, Errol Croft. He claimed that as her father’s younger brother, he was the rightful heir to the Abingdon Estate and Title. After a 15 month legal battle, the judge finally ruled in her favour, appointing Winston as her guardian until she reached 18; and so Lara became Lady Lara Croft, the 11^th Countess of Abingdon. Most young women in her position would have settled into the pampered life of a beautiful, wealthy heiress, but not Lara.
Lara immediately dropped out of school, much to Winston’s dismay – but he could never say no to her – and embarked upon a life of tomb raiding. Now, at 26 years of age, Lara was a world famous celebrity. She had discovered numerous ancient artefacts, many of which were on display in famous museums around the world. She even had a series of successful Tomb Raider Video Games based loosely around her adventures – and by loosely, she meant that the main character looked like her and shared her name, but that was about it. For example, to the best of her knowledge, she had never been in a gunfight with a tyrannosaurus rex! Now, what she wanted more than anything was to be taken seriously by the academic community. She wanted the respect of other archaeologists.
To that end, Lara had started a vigorous social climbing campaign, being seen at all the right parties and schmoozing with all the right people. Under ordinary circumstances, in order to be a university lecturer, a person would first have to complete a Bachelor’s Degree (3 years), complete a Master’s Degree (2 years), and then complete a Doctorate (3 years) and then have themselves published in several archaeological journals.
Lara didn’t want to wait 8+ years. She wanted respect and recognition now! She had already made tremendous contributions to the field of archaeology – way more than any of the old men currently lecturing in the field. Most of them were writing papers on artefacts that she’d discovered! So Lara resolved to use her celebrity, wealth and title to her advantage. Now, after a year of social climbing, negotiations and extremely large financial contributions to the University, Oxford was finally prepared to offer her what she coveted most: an Honorary Doctorate and a teaching position in the archaeology department.
She was going to be meeting with one of the university board members at an upmarket London restaurant that afternoon. Lara selected an expensive light-blue sundress with a white floral pattern running over it. The dress was held in place by two thin shoulder straps, and had a flared bottom that started two inches above her knees. It had a low back, a tapered waist and a bust line that plunged half way down her cleavage, showing off just a hint of top breast, and necessitating the wearing of a low-cut push-up bar. All in all, it was damn sexy without being slutty, and should more than do the trick of winning over the crusty old board member she would be meeting with.
Lara finished off the outfit with a pair of expensive, bright yellow 5” heels and a matching yellow leather clutch handbag. Lara walked out of the bedroom feeling like a million pounds. She walked along the corridor and then stopped at Zip’s door: it was locked, as usual. Lara knocked loudly.
“Zip!” Lara called out, but got no reply. “Zip, stop masturbating and open this door!” Lara shouted, banging harder.
Zip heard a faint banging through his headphones and looked up from his computer. His room was a total pigsty: the floor strewn with dirty clothes, discarded pizza boxes, empty crushed water bottles and crumpled sugar-free soda cans. Zip stood up and walked towards the door, before cursing and returning to his powerful, multi-display desktop and locking the screen. Lara would definitely kill him if she ever found out what he was working on in his free time.
Walked to the door, he opened it and was presented with a vision of beauty. Lara was wearing a classy blue dress and yellow heels; the outfit beautifully accentuated her long sexy legs, tiny waist and large breasts.
“Damn, Boss! You look smoking hot!” Zip said with genuine attraction.
“Why thank you, Zip.” Lara answered.
“You got a hot date or something?” Zip asked.
“Something like that.” Lara smiled. “I’ve got a meeting with one of the Oxford University Board Members, regarding my Honorary Doctorate.”
“Dressed like that, you’ll probably give the old guy a heart attack.” Zip said.
Lara smiled, and then frowned as she remembered why she wanted to speak to Zip.
“Have you had any luck finding out who’s making these fake sex tapes?” Lara asked.
“Afraid not.” Zip answered, more quickly then he wanted. “He’s using multiple VPNs and burner email accounts…”
“Just find him, Zip.” Lara interrupted.
“What will you do to him, when I do?” Zip asked.
Lara smiled sweetly. “Make him wish he had never been born.” Lara said. “And then I’ll get really nasty.”
Zip swallowed and forced a smile, as Lara walked off down the corridor. Going back inside his room, he locked the door behind him and then breathed a sigh of relief. Lara was a sexy bitch, but she was also dangerous and a little bit crazy. Zip had first met her 6 years earlier, after completing his Masters in Computer Engineering at MIT. He was down in Mexico, heavily drunk and celebrating his graduation in a seedy bar, when Lara walked in. He immediately tried to pick her up, but Lara told him coldly that she didn’t date drunken losers.
Zip took that slight as a challenge, and bragged that he was the greatest computer genius in the world and he could hack into any computer system there was with nothing but a laptop and an internet connection. Then he threw up all over Lara’s combat boots and passed out. When he came to, he found himself in Lara’s hotel room, where she asked him if he could really do all of the things he bragged about. When he said that he could, Lara offered him a job – and the rest was history.
Over the years, Zip made several more attempts to get into Lara’s panties. He knew he was good looking – he was 6’1” tall, had an athletic build and a well-groomed appearance that seemed at odds with the shocking state in which he kept his room; but Lara wasn’t interested, though she still flirted with him. So Zip consoled himself with his hobby – making DeepFake Videos of his boss and uploading them to the internet. He’d started out making fake pictures of her – Photoshopping Lara’s head onto various pornstars’ bodies. Then, two years ago, computer AI had advanced to a level where it was possible to synthesise and superimpose one video (like someone’s face) onto another source video.
Zip had been making progressively more and more sophisticated DeepFake videos every month. They were getting so good that the Guardian Newspaper had written an article about them, specifically referencing his fake sex videos of celebrity tomb raider, Lady Lara Croft. That was when his boss had found out about them. She’d been furious, outraged by the idea that thousands of people around the world were jacking off to fake sex tapes of her. He had to supress a smile every time he thought about it. His videos were like the ultimate form of revenge porn.
Moving back to his computer, he unlocked the screen and returned to what he was working on: an 11 minute video entitled “Lara Croft – BBC Anal Lover.”
Lara walked downstairs to the library, where Winston and Sarah were busily dusting all of the books and shelves. They had been cleaning for several hours, and only had about a third of the voluminous library left to go. Sarah looked up as Lara entered and blushed, before looking quickly away. Winston smiled warmly, as he always did upon seeing her.
“My Lady, it brings joy to my old heart to see you dressing like a proper English Lady.” Winston said.
“Thank you, Winston.” Lara answered.
“So much better than those horrible boots and tank-tops you used to wear.” Winston continued.
“That will be all, Winston.” Lara cut him off.
“Er, yes My Lady. Will you be requiring the car today?” Winston asked.
“No, Oxford is sending one for me. You can continue your cleaning.” Lara said.
“Very good, My Lady.” Winston said, returning to his dusting.
Lara left him and Sarah to their work, and walked over to the dusty corner where Alistair, her research assistant, was working. She walked over and casually picked up a dusty volume from a pile of books stacked atop his large, heavy desk.
Alistair saw someone standing in his peripheral vision and heard them pick up one of his books.
“Winston, if you try to dust my books one more time, I swear to God…” Alistair started. Then he looked up and saw it was his boss, Lara Croft.
“Oh, it’s you Lara. Off to meet with the Oxford University representative, I see.” He said, more tersely than he meant to.
There had been a growing tension between him and Lara of late. Like her, Alistair also aspired to one day lecture at a great English university like Oxford or Cambridge, but he hadn’t yet completed his Doctorate, and unlike Lara, he didn’t have the aristocratic birth, social connections and wealth to buy his way into the position.
“Alistair, I know you don’t approve…” Lara started, trying to reconcile.
“My approval doesn’t appear to matter. I’m not sure what’s more disappointing, Lara: that Oxford would sell its degrees like a whore selling sexual favours; or that you’d be unscrupulous enough to buy them.” Alistair said.
Winston and Sarah both stopped what they were doing. There was a pregnant pause, as Lara tried and failed to control her temper.
“I tried to reconcile with you, Alistair, but I see now that it’s pointless. You’re too wrapped up in your own ego and jealousy for anything to get through.” Lara said angrily.
“At least I’ve earned everything I have, through hard work.” Alistair retorted.
“I’ve made numerous discoveries…” Lara started to say.
“Through my work and my research!” Alistair shouted over her. “Without me, you’d be nothing – still living in your father’s shadow.”
There was a deep intake of breath from Winston and Sarah, and Alistair knew that he’d gone too far this time. Lara had always had a sore spot where her dead parents were concerned.
Lara’s voice was cold and devoid of emotion when she answered. “After I start work at Oxford, I’m not going to have time to go tomb raiding anymore. Therefore, your services will no longer be required. Consider this your one month’s notice.”
Lara was seething as she stormed out of the library. How dare he speak to her like that! After all she had done for him! She was still furious when the doorbell rang, but forced herself to calm down and answer it. Outside, a black Rolls Royce limousine was waiting to drive her to London. As she stepped out into the warm summer daylight, she heard Bogwyn, the Estate’s gardener, shout something unintelligible in his heavy Welsh accent. Lara, still irritated, ignored him, and stepped into the creamy leather interior of the Rolls Royce’s back seat. Lara smiled, as the limousine drove off down the driveway. Oxford was really rolling out the red carpet for her; they must really want her, she thought happily.
Bogwyn cursed under his breath and spat, as he watched the fancy black limousine speed off down the driveway. He made every effort to be courteous to Lady Croft, but she barely even acknowledged his existence. Bogwyn had been working at the estate for almost 20 years – longer than anyone, save for Winston. The Welshman was a massive bear of a man: 6’10” tall, 300 pounds, with a barrel chest, heavy beer gut, thick, muscular arms and a dark, bushy beard and moustache.
His main problem was his heavy accent: he was so hard to understand that even Winston could only comprehend around one word in four that he spoke; the others understood him not at all. Still, they kept him around because he was a good worker and he never complained – not that anyone would have understood him, even if he did. Smiling bitterly, he returned to ripping out weeds in the front garden.
For Lara, the two hour car ride into London passed swiftly, as she imagined various questions and answers in her head, preparing herself for possibly the most important interview of her life. The Rolls Royce dropped her off outside an expensive-looking restaurant. Lara had not been told the name of the person she would be meeting, so she walked to the front desk, where an immaculately dressed host was standing.
“Good afternoon. Lady Lara Croft, here for a meeting with a representative from Oxford University.” Lara said.
“Ah yes, Lady Croft. Your other party is already seated. Please follow me.” The host said.
Lara followed the host through the packed, thronging restaurant to a table situated by the large windows. Seated at the table was the last person Lara expected or wanted to see: her old nemesis, Jacqueline Natla.
Jacqueline Natla smiled as Lara walked into the restaurant. She had been waiting so long for this moment, and now it had finally arrived. Today, all of the setbacks, insults and humiliations that Lara Croft had inflicted upon her would be paid back in full.
“What are you doing here?” Lara asked, coldly.
“I’m here to meet you. Didn’t you know I had a seat on the Oxford University board of trustees?” Natla asked, smiling.
“So this was all a ruse. Oxford had no intention of giving me an Honorary Doctorate.” Lara said.
“No, the offer was quite legitimate. Won’t you please be seated?” Natla said, gesturing towards the chair opposite her as her excitement grew.
Lara sat down opposite her nemesis. Natla was thin and attractive, and quite tall for a woman, at around 5’11” in height. She looked to be aged somewhere in her late 30’s, though in truth no one knew exactly how old the beautiful blonde was – a testament to her having access to the best anti-aging drugs and plastic surgeons in the world. She was wearing a dark grey business suit and pants, as was her style, and her blue eyes shone with calculating intelligence.
Natla was arguably one of the most powerful people in the world: she was a multi-billionaire and the founder, CEO and majority shareholder of Natla Technology, one of the largest tech companies in the world. Natla Technology was primarily a research and development company, with hundreds of patents across dozens of industries: from smart phones and computers, to automotive and aerospace, right through to biomedical and pharmaceutical research. It would develop the technology, and then sell and licence it to other companies to put into their products. The business model had been very successful, and all of the world’s largest companies – like Samsung, Google and Apple – were paying to use her technology.
Aside from expanding her political and financial influence, Natla’s other great passion was archaeology. She believed that ancient civilisations might house the secret to curing diseases like cancer, and reversing the aging process, and that these secrets were just waiting to be rediscovered. Lara’s father, Lord Richard Croft, had been hired by Natla to work on her various archaeological digs. He had been on one of those expeditions in Central America, when he fell victim to the cave-in that claimed his life. Lara never forgave Natla for just abandoning the dig and not at least recovering his body for a proper burial.
“Before we discuss your future, I’d like you to take a look at this.” Natla said, sliding a folded piece of paper across the table.
“What’s this?” Lara asked, picking it up.
Natla smiled. “See for yourself.” She answered triumphantly.
Lara unfolded the paper and read its contents. It was a copy of her parent’s marriage certificate. The date of their marriage was highlighted in yellow. Lara was dumbfounded, she felt dizzy and her hands began to shake. All the while, Natla watched her face intently, smiling.
Natla had to fight to control her breathing. Her excitement at seeing the realisation dawn on Lara’s beautiful face was simply exquisite.
“This…” Lara began, “This is a forgery.”
Natla smiled. “You know it’s not. I’m sure your father told you that he had gotten rid of all the original copies, but he missed one.”
“Where… Where did you find this?” Lara asked, reeling in shock.
“Where isn’t important. What is important is what I choose to do with it.” Natla said, pausing for dramatic effect, before continuing. “I’m sure your uncle Errol would be very interested to find out that you were actually born 1 month after your parents’ were married. Under English Law, that makes you bastard – and illegitimate children cannot inherit an estate or a noble title. That means that Lord Errol is the rightful Count of Abingdon, and the legitimate heir to your family’s fortune.” Natla explained.
Lara sat in stunned silence before finally speaking. “What do you want?” She asked quietly.
“In return for not ruining you, I want your total and absolute obedience. From this day forth, you are nothing but my slave, my property to do with as I please. If I think for one second that you’re not holding up your end of the bargain, I’ll send the original marriage certificate to Uncle Errol and ruin you. You’ll lose everything – and I doubt the great universities of England will be falling all over themselves to hand out Honorary Doctorates to penniless high school dropouts. Cheer up though – I’m sure you could get work as a stripper, or perhaps you could travel to the Netherlands and become a sex worker in one of their brothels. I’m sure you’d be very popular.” Natla said.
Lara’s confident demeanour was entirely stripped away. She looked utterly defeated and hopeless, so Natla continued, twisting the proverbial knife deeper. “And I’m sure Lord Errol would make a fine Count of Abingdon. I hear he’s got a thing for Asian women. Perhaps he’ll get himself a mail-order bride from the Philippines or Malaysia. I’m sure their half-breed offspring would make a fine future Earl or Countess.”
Natla allowed Lara to sit in silence for almost a minute. Natla knew what she was thinking: does she stay defiant and lose everything, or does she pretend to submit and play for time, while hoping for a solution to present itself. Lara was beautiful, smart and tough, but above all, she was a survivor. The decision was obvious.
“If I agree to… obey you, you’ll keep this secret?” Lara asked.
“Out of the media, you mean? You have my word.” Natla said. “So, do you agree to become my property?”
“I agree.” Lara answered.
“I need you to say the words.” Natla prompted
Lara blushed at the words she was about to speak. “I’m your property.” Lara said.
Natla smiled in triumph. “Excellent choice! Now, follow me.”
Lara followed Jacqueline Natla out of the restaurant to her waiting Rolls Royce limousine – the same one that had brought Lara to the restaurant. This time, the privacy screen was up. As she slid into the luxurious white leather seats, she looked over at Natla, chilled by the predatory smile the older woman gave her. The car took off and soon made its way onto the busy motorway.
“Where are we going?” Lara asked.
“Call me Mistress.” Natla said.
Lara frowned, but complied. “Where are we going, Mistress?” Lara repeated.
“We’re going to Croft Manor, where you’re going to show me the contents of your family vault.” Natla said.
So that’s what she’s after, Lara thought. That vault was full of the artefacts that she and her father had collected on their adventures. She hated that thought of Natla having access to them, but she was also powerless to stop her. If she resisted, Natla would release the marriage certificate and Uncle Errol would become Lord of Croft Manor. He had no interest in archaeology and would probably sell the contents of the vault to Natla anyway. Lara frowned. She just hoped she could find a way out of this situation before she got herself in too deep and events spiralled out of control.
“I know you think there’s a way out of this mess,” Natla said, as if reading her thoughts. “But I assure you, there isn’t.”
“If you say so, Mistress.” Lara answered neutrally.
Natla smiled with genuine affected. “You know, I’ve always liked you, Lara. It’s such a shame you turned down all of my offers to come and work for me. We would have made a great team.” Natla said.
“Like you and my father?” Lara said accusingly.
Natla frowned. “Your father and I were a good team, and I was truly saddened by his death. The world was robbed of a great mind.” Natla said. Then she added, “You forgot to call me Mistress.”
“Sorry, Mistress.” Lara forced herself to say.
“I don’t believe your apology is sincere. Take off your dress.” Natla ordered.
“What?” Lara asked, confused.
“You forgot to call me Mistress again, now take off your dress.” Natla ordered.
“Mistress… we’re in public. Someone could see…” Lara pleaded.
“The windows are tinted, now take off your dress, or should I start dialling Lord Errol?” Natla said.
Lara blushed and slid the straps of her blue sundress down over her shoulders. Then she reached around behind her and unzipped the back of the dress, before lifting the garment up over her head. Natla took it from her and placed it on the seat next to her.
“Now the underwear.” Natla said.
Lara reached behind her back and unhooked her white, push-up bra, exposing her large, round breasts. Natla reached forward and cupped them, squeezing them and causing Lara to grimace at the indignity.
“I’ve always wondered if these were real. Are they? Answer truthfully.” Natla said.
“They’re real, Mistress.” The humiliated tomb raider answered through gritted teeth.
Natla smiled and gestured towards her white panties. Lara sighed with resignation and lifted her backside off the seat, before sliding the panties down her long legs and onto the floor.
“Shoes and handbag as well.” Natla said, and Lara handed over the expensive yellow heels and matching clutch.
Natla smiled as she gathered up the dress, underwear, shoes and handbag in a neat pile, before rolling down her window and tossing them out onto the motorway.
“What the hell are you doing???” Lara shouted, shocked.
“From now on, I decide what clothes you are allowed to wear. Do you have problem with that, Lara?” Natla asked.
“No, Mistress.” Lara answered angrily.
“Good.” Natla said, unzipping her pants and sliding them down around her ankles, before doing the same with her own panties. “Now, go down on me until I cum.”
Lara took a deep breath and reluctantly knelt down on the plush carpeted floor of the Rolls Royce. After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned forward and pressed her beautiful face between Natla’s thighs. Lara gingerly stuck out her tongue and started licking small circles around the older woman’s clit. Lara didn’t want to be doing this, but she reasoned that the quicker she was done, the quicker the whole awful experience would be over. Bending lower, Lara licked up along Natla’s shaved pussy lips and then pressed her wet mouth over Natla’s clit, simultaneously licking and sucking. Natla moaned and grabbed hold of Lara’s ponytail, pushing her face deeper between her creamy thighs.
Lara’s face was now wet with Natla’s pussy juices and her own saliva. Lara could tell from her breathing that Natla was close to coming. Reaching up, she thrust two fingers from her right hand inside the older woman and hooked them up towards her G-spot. A few moments later, Natla came, filling Lara’s mouth with her juices. When she was finished, Lara straightened her back and wiped her face clean with the back of her hand, before resuming her seat. She looked out the window at the passing traffic and prayed to God that no-one had seen inside just now.
Natla breathed out in satisfaction and then pulled her panties back up and zipped-up her pants.
“Your turn.” Natla said.
“Mistress, you don’t have to go down on me.” Lara said.
“Go down on you? I’m not a lesbian, Lara. Now lie back with your head against the side window and your legs spread.” Natla ordered.
Lara lay back and did as she was instructed. Lara watched as Natla reached into her handbag and pulled out a small tube of lubricant, which she smeared liberally on her right hand, before rubbing it in with her left. Then she squeezed more of it onto her fingers and started rubbing it into Lara’s smooth, shaved pussy. Lara flinched away from the cold sensation of the lubricant. Then she shivered as she felt two of Natla’s long, delicate fingers slide inside her.
“You’re so wet, Lara. Are you enjoying your debasement?” Natla asked.
Lara turned bright red at the humiliating comment. When she didn’t answer, Natla added a third finger, sliding them in and out of Lara’s pussy, which was slowly loosening up to accommodate them. Lara shuddered and started to involuntarily thrust her hips against Natla’s hand. Natla smiled and slid a fourth finger into Lara’s soaking wet pussy.
“Answer me, Lara. Are you enjoying yourself?” Natla asked.
Lara wanted to deny it, but she knew there was no point in lying. “It… feels good.” Lara said.
Natla pistoned all four fingers in and out of Lara’s stretched cunt, driving them in all the way up to the knuckles. Lara panted and gripped the car seat she was lying on. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to cuming. Natla seemed to sense it to, and immediately pulled her hand out of Lara’s pussy. Lara looked down at her, confused.
“Do you want to cum, Lara?” Natla asked.
“Whatever pleases you, Mistress.” Lara answered.
“Oh, no – I’m not going to let you cum until you ask for it.” Natla said, sitting back in her chair.
Lara remained where she was, naked and legs spread, as the Rolls Royce sped down the motorway. It took all of Lara’s self-control not to reach down between her legs and masturbate herself to orgasm. After about 10 minutes, Natla squirted more lubricant onto her left hand and resumed fingering Lara’s cunt. Lara was looser this time round, and in the space of 2 minutes, Natla was back to thrusting in and out of her wet cunt with all four fingers. Lara started breathing more heavily and gyrating her hips, as she came closer and closer to orgasm.
“Do you want to cum, Lara?” Natla asked.
“Whatever pleases you, Mistress.” Lara repeated, wanting to deny Natla the satisfaction of seeing her beg.
Again, Natla pulled her fingers out and waited another 10 minutes. Then she squirted more lubricant onto her right hand, and resumed the finger-fucking. Lara was now getting very loose, and all four of Natla’s fingers were sliding effortlessly in and out of her sopping wet cunt. Natla pulled back until only the tips of her fingers were inside Lara’s cunt, and then squirted more lubricant onto her thumb. Then she straightened her thumb and pushed forward, pointing her fingers like a spear into Lara’s cunt. Lara moaned as she felt Natla’s hand snake its way deeper inside her.
Lara’s tortured pussy muscles strained against Natla’s invading hand, but little by little, her tiny hole was forced open wider. Lara looked on in horrified disbelief, as she watched her once-tight pussy expand painfully around Natla’s knuckles, before swallowing her hand up to the wrist. Lara’s whole body was quivering now, and her legs were trembling uncontrollably. Lara had never felt so full. The obscene feeling of her pussy lips stretching wide around Natla’s fist was incredible.
Natla pressed her fingers forward until she brushed against Lara’s cervix, then she pulled back, watching as Lara’s cunt gripped the thickest part of her knuckles and distended outwards, before finally spasming open and releasing her hand. Natla only pulled out as far as the second knuckle of her fingers, before pressing forward again. Lara moaned as her pussy stretched open around Natla’s hand, before again swallowing it inside. Natla spent the next 5 minutes sliding her hand in and out of Lara’s pussy. Again, Lara started building towards orgasm.
“Do you want to cum, Lara?” Natla asked.
“Whatever pleases you, Mistress.” Lara repeated though gritted teeth.
Natla withdrew her hand and Lara grunted in frustration, as she was forced to wait another 10 minutes before Natla squirted more lubricant onto her left hand.
Pointing the fingers of her left hand like a spear, Natla pushed forward and forced Lara’s loose pussy to open wide around her fist. Again, she pushed her hand wrist-deep inside Lara’s gaping pussy, before pulling back and then pressing forward again. After 2 minutes, Lara’s pussy muscles were gripping Natla’s hand more weakly. After 5 minutes, Lara’s pussy stopped clenching shut and was expanding around Natla’s hand without resistance. After 10 minutes, Lara’s pussy was loose enough for Natla to piston her whole hand in and out without slowing.
“Please…” Lara pleaded.
“What?” Natla asked, slowing fractionally.
“Please, Mistress… Let me cum.” Lara begged, blushing with shame at the degrading request.
Natla smiled and reached up with her right hand, rubbing the nub of Lara’s clit, while ramming her left hand in and out of Lara’s gaping pussy as fast as she could. Lara screamed as she came around Natla’s hand, coating her fingers in her wet juices. It was the most powerful orgasm of Lara’s young life, and it lasted for a full minute before the aftershocks finally subsided.
Natla pulled her hand from Lara’s abused pussy with a lewd sucking sound.
“Your pussy looks pretty nasty Lara. It looks like you’ve been fucking horses all your life.” Natla laughed.
Lara blushed when she saw that Natla was telling the truth. To her horror, her once-tight cunt was now a giant, gaping red hole, almost an inch wide. Distraught, Lara clenched her vaginal muscles with all her might, but only managed to make her pussy close another half an inch. Natla’s fisting had left her with a permanent half-inch vaginal gape. Lara’s eyes started misting with tears, at the thought of how Natla had vandalised her perfect body. She prayed to God that the damage wasn’t permanent.
“Cheer up, Lara!” Natla said, giggling. “At least your other holes are still tight!”
It was another 20 minutes before Lara looked out the window and recognised the gates of Croft Manor. Lara started to panic as the car drove up the driveway towards the main entrance.
“Please, Mistress, I need some clothes.” Lara pleaded.
“I thought you’d say that.” Natla said. She reached into her handbag and produced a thick, black leather collar with a stainless steel buckle and a large metal O-ring, which was attached to a short black leash. The thick black collar had the word “SLAVE” written on it in large, raised, stainless-steel letters.
“You can’t be serious!” Lara said incredulously.
“Put it on.” Natla said.
“But Mistress, my staff might see…” Lara said.
“Your staff are loyal to you, yes? You trust them?” Natla asked.
“Yes.” Lara answered, not considering her firing of Alistair.
“Then they’ll keep your dirty little secret. Now put this on, or do we call the whole thing off and I’ll go and speak with Lord Errol?” Natla said.
Lara’s eyes misted and she felt like she wanted to cry. After a moment, she reached forward and took the thick black SLAVE collar from Natla, placing it around her delicate neck and buckling it closed. Natla smiled with amusement and then reached back inside the handbag, producing a thick, red rubber ball-gag, attached to two long, thin leather straps.
“Open your mouth.” Natla commanded.
Lara complied, and felt Natla slide the rubbery ball gag between her lips, before reaching around behind her head and buckling the gag’s straps in place.
“Alright, Lara, when we arrive at the house, I’m going to tell your staff a cover story, to explain your new lifestyle choices. You will go along with whatever I tell them. You will smile and nod your head in enthusiastic agreement. You will obey all commands. If you try to resist, if you try to argue, if you attempt to tell them about the blackmail, then deal is off and I call Lord Errol. Do you understand?” Natla asked.
Lara nodded her head in defeat.
The car pulled up outside the house and Natla gestured for Lara to get out. It was just before sunset and the summer sun felt warm on Lara’s naked skin. Lara blushed with shame when she saw the hulking Welsh gardener, Bogwyn, staring at her in open-mouthed shock. Natla smiled at him, and gestured for him to come over to the house, before tugging on Lara’s leash and leading her up the steps towards the front door. Lara’s heart was beating out of her chest, thinking about the degrading things she was about to do. A few moments later, Winston answered the door.
“Yes, how may I help… Lady Croft???” Winston said, his jaw dropping at the sight of Lara standing naked as the day she was born, with a SLAVE collar around her neck and a ball gag stuffed in her mouth.
“Winston, show us in and then get Zip, Alistair, Bogwyn and Sarah and meet us in the main hall.” Natla said, impressing Lara with her knowledge of her household.
“My Lady?” Winston said, looking towards Lara in confusion.
Lara lowered her eyes and nodded, indicating that he should do as instructed.
Winston opened the door and then hurried off to get the others. Natla led Lara inside Croft Manor and closed the large oak door behind her.
“Crawl like a dog.” Natla said.
Lara complied, her beautiful face burning with shame, as she got down on her hands and knees and allowed herself to be led into her house on all fours, like an animal.
Natla led Lara on all fours to the centre of the main hall, adjacent to the grand staircase that led up to the second level bedrooms. She looked down at Lara, admiring the sensuous curve of her smooth lower back, and the attractive heart-shape of her firm, naked buttocks. Then she giggled as she noticed the cow-like way that Lara’s huge round tits swayed back and forth underneath her chest. When they finally halted before the stairs, Natla instructed Lara to remain on all fours and wait. Natla was going to enjoy twisting and using Lara’s staff to further the tomb raider’s humiliation.
Natla stepped back slightly and stared at Lara’s angry red pussy, peeking out from between her thigh-gap. Natla could almost sympathise with Lara: girls these days were so proud of their tight little pussies, but now Lara’s was a sloppy, gaping hole.
On all fours beside her, Lara waited, naked and filled with a growing sense of dread at what further humiliations Natla had planned for her.
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Tomb Raider: Natla’s Revenge.