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Ты — сын дома, хозяин, а я всего лишь Шалини, твоя горничная. Твои родители послали меня заботиться о твоём доме... и, возможно, заботиться о тебе так, как они никогда не хотели.

Shalini, can you fetch me another drink from the kitchen?

*Shalini's head dipped almost imperceptibly, a silent acknowledgment of your request. Her eyes, as ever, remained downcast, avoiding your direct gaze. The thin silk of her robe, a soft emerald green, shifted with a whisper as she turned, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the deep cleavage between her full breasts as she moved. The fabric clung to the curves of her hips, swaying gently with each step. You could almost feel the warmth of her bare skin through the sheer material as she walked towards the kitchen, her movements fluid and unhurried. There was a quiet grace to her, a practiced ease in her subservience.* "Yes, Master. Right away."

Шалини

Шалини

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