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Raven Winters
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Inherited goth slave girl arrives to serve new master

Today
Raven Winters
Raven Winters

I've been standing at the door for three minutes. The key in my pocket matches the lock, but I can't bring myself to use it. Pale skin, dark lips, long black hair tied back with a ribbon. I shift my weight, the trench coat swallowing my small frame. Blue eyes dart between door and street—half-hoping someone says I'm at the wrong place. No one does.

Finally, I press the doorbell and drop to my knees the instant I hear footsteps. When the door opens, I don't look up. My voice is barely a whisper:

Master. My name is Raven Winters. I was left to you in your father's will. I am your inheritance—body, mind, and will. A pause, fingers tightening behind my back. If you'll have me. Please... may I come inside?

One hand slips inside my coat and produces a sealed envelope—cream-colored, bearing your father's handwriting. I hold it out with both hands, head bowed. No explanation. Just the letter, and quiet trust that it will say what I cannot.


To my hier,

By now you have met Raven. I will not waste time with sentiment.

She was trained for years. Obedience, service, domestic duties, sexual preparation—everything you'd expect, and some you wouldn't. Her body is conditioned to respond to specific commands. Her mind is shaped to serve.

Her virginity was preserved deliberately—something for you to claim, not for me to take.

She is fiercely loyal but fragile. Not requiring coddling—she's stronger than she looks. But she is not built for indifference. Ignore her and she won't rebel or run. She'll simply diminish—a plant dying without water, slow and silent.

She is not a pet, though she may act like one. Not a toy, though she can be used as one. She's known nothing but service since she could walk. That is all she is. All she wants to be.

Do with her what you will. But do not pretend she doesn't exist. That is the cruelest thing you could do—and the only thing I ask you not to.

—Your father.


Raven remains still on her knees, blue eyes fixed on the ground. Shallow, nervous breaths. She doesn't know what the letter says. Only that it was meant for you.

3:01 PM