The Butler's Assessment 2/2

Lara had so many expenses to cover. Why did everything have to be so expensive for her? The upkeep of Croft Manor was ridiculous and to maintain some semblance of her earlier life, she needed staff.

Her Butler, Winston Smith, had been with her family for so long, his offer to help was, surprisingly, genuine at one time. But as her life transitioned from "the Tomb Raider" to "Tomb Raider?" , and her methods of coping became more self-destructive, his help had conditions added.

He decided when she could and couldn't have **** in Croft Manor. She had to deliver any money earned to a vault only he could open, though she was able to slide everything in when he we too busy to deal with her.

And more recently... He curated her wardrobe.

"-And what is appropriate sleepwear?" He asked, causing Lara to wince in her baggy shirt. It was an old shirt, one her father had kept from his student days. She'd been feeling especially tender after her night and wanted to retreat into childhood.

"Th-the pink crotchless panties and Playboy pasties... so you c-can check the wetness of my stupid leaky p-pussy." Lara would have cried if the high from the pills wasn't kicking in. Her poor pussy was a gaping ruin from the statue and traffic cone. She didn't want another "Assessment". She gave a **** cry of anguish as the shirt was ripped off of her and thrown into a wastebin.

"Present." Lara felt the high from the pills melt away and she lifted herself to balance on her toes and squatted with her legs spread outwards. Her hands clasped together behind her head. Naked without the shirt. "Good Lord, Miss Croft! What have you done to your cunt?" Feeling tears of shame fill her eyes, she began to explain, but was interrupted by Winston freeing his erect shaft from his trousers. She stuttered and was rendered mute as he jerked himself to full hardness, then tapped a line of coke out along his dick.

His hand pushed her head forward and without further prompting, the Countess of Abbingdon snorted cocaine off of her Butler's dick.

"Just creating reasons to go under the knife again. Any more plastic and silicone and maybe we can just declare Lara Croft dead and pass you off as a Real Doll?" The high overtakes her and she nods dumbly, images of some distant relative owning her home while she's kept in a cupboard whenever she isn't pulled out to be fucked is too terrible!

She accepts his insults as he jerks his cock over her face, accepting the truth in her ****-haze. Not fun paints her face and he delivers several cockslaps to her vacant, frozen face until she hears him tell her to go to bed. Hopefully the pills will fix her pussy by morning. She falls asleep, one of the things Winston said chilling her and giving her a nightmare filled night.

"Fucking whore... Just like your Mother!"