The Maid For Service Bundle

by Nadia Nightside

  So, each of us undresses the other—as always. I do most of the work, I’m sure you can see why. I’m just more mobile, even if my figure is incredibly busty. It’s such a joy to caress the fertile, big-titted bodies of Lilah and Claudette. I forget myself sometimes, massaging their tits—and they forget too. Sometimes we have to have good, hot, sweet little cums before getting started with the workout.

  After an hour of gentle touches and licks and adorations, we are dressed in tight tight spandex. We move as one—stretching forward, stretching back, stretching to the side. Twisting, rotating, undulating. Our tight, hot forms in those skintight outfits, our tits practically spilling out of the tops. Our sculpted asses looking carved and hot as we lean forward, as we kneel and squat. Our hair in thick pools beside us. Sometimes I land in Lilah's hair, and I forget to breath. She smells best of all of us.

  Of course, often we only last about half an hour—at most—before falling into the arms of one another and making out madly. We try to keep stretching, even as we begin to lick the pussies of one another. Twisting and rotating, legs far out or maybe pulled up so the knee touches our forehead—arranged in a triangle with me licking Claudette, Claudette licking Lilah, and Lilah licking Claudette.

  The triangle is a perfect symbol of what we represent to Mister Castle. His trifecta of perfect, fertile girls, made just for his pleasure. It’s such a joy to be a servant of the Castle Estate.

  THEN:

  It's really damn weird working at this estate.

  A strange thing happened this morning.

  Yes, stranger still than what happened a few days ago, with Terrence in the kitchen. Ever since then, he’s avoided me, sometimes casting me ugly looks. I’m beginning to think that somehow, I truly hurt his feelings by turning him down.

  It’s a very odd thing to feel bad about not sucking his cock—but I do. I can’t help it. Claudette speaks often of what a perfectly nice man he is.

  If he is, though, I haven’t seen it.

  I mean, I've fantasized about it, sure. I've fantasized plenty. I imagine him coming up to my room, breaking the door down, completely naked. He demands that I suck his cock. I act like I'm unsure—and he tells me if I do it, then he'll make Claudette eat my pussy. Of course I agree then—I would have agreed anyway! And then I slide down toward him, purring and begging, putting on my best Claudette impression...

  Stupid fantasy. Never happen in a million years, right?

  In any case, I was downstairs at seven in the morning to eat breakfast. Spoons was in there in the kitchen to serve me my plate, being laconic as what I think is usual. When I first met him, I thought he was in a bad mood. As it turns out, so far at least, his mood is just constantly that way.

  I can relate. I don’t know that my mood has been any good since I arrived here either.

  I ate in a breakfast room adjacent to the kitchen. It was, as I’ve found out over the last couple of days, the servants’ dining room. Just like the rest of the house, the ceilings were tall, the light fixtures were grandiose, and the floors were hard and wood. The table was a long, flat slab of dark cherry wood. On the wall was an enormous painting of a Rubenesque redheaded woman holding a jug of milk against her breasts. Little cherubs floated around her.

  Lilah walked in, looking glamorous as ever. Up to this point, my interactions with her had been short, but courteous. She was the kind of woman who clearly knew how gorgeous she was, and adored reveling in it. Her entire wardrobe seemed to rotate around highlighting her every feature. I contrast her with Claudette in this way—who was gorgeous, clearly—but also something of a ditz. You could easily imagine Claudette being given a seat on a train or a drink in a bar, and just marveling at how nice people were. Meanwhile, the same seat or drink offered to Lilah would be seen—by Lilah, at the very least, if not everyone drooling at her gorgeous body—as her absolute divine right.

  She had on a sexy, long wrapping gown with a wide, scooping v-neck. Sheer fabric clung over her pregnant belly, and tight leather high-heeled boots adorned her legs.

  My pussy twitched at the sight of her. And then, it continued to do so, slowly moistening more and more as her scent filled my nostrils.

  My instant, deeply-ground anger twitched as well, though—she was the kind of babe who would never have even recognized my existence in high school. Or, if she did, it would have been to make fun of me. Or worse, it would have been to offer me a sandwich because she thought I was homeless, from the state of the clothes I was wearing.

  Yes, that happened. Shut up about it.

  “Hello, Abbey,” she said, gliding into the seat next to mine. “How are we this morning?”

  “Good,” I said. “I mean, well. Ma’am. Madam.”

  I hated that I was stuttering around her, like some lovestruck fool. But god, to be so close to her...pregnancy suited her. She was positively glowing.

  “That’s wonderful.” She slid closer, eyeing me up and down. Her eyes were green and must have been of made from some kind of laser-emitting emeralds. I melted in front of her. My thighs twitched constantly, wanting to open wider and wider, as I had to suppress the need to beg her to lick my pussy.

  Her voice was accented lightly—Mister Castle found her in some Eastern European country when she was just barely eighteen, and promptly swept her off her feet. Even in that country, though, she must have known she was a tremendous beauty. The kind of hot, easy arrogance she had was cultivated with years of experience, not just wealth and status.

  “I notice that you’re not wearing the uniforms we laid out for you?” She put a hand on my arm. I melted a little more. A candle sent to the sun.

  “Oh, those. Yes...they...” I struggled for a lie. “...they didn’t fit.”

  The clothes they had assigned for me were almost obscene. I woke this morning to see them hanging on the outside of my bedroom door. The hemlines were entirely too short, and they were designed to show off cleavage that I just didn’t have. They even gave me underwear—bras with push-up straps. I didn’t have anything to push up, dammit! The outfit was embarrassing. I refused to wear it.

  “Oh, really?” Lilah raised an eyebrow. “I shall have the tailor fired, then. We supply over half of his business. I’m sure he’ll go under without us. And it will be hard to replace him...”

  “Half his business?” I gulped.

  “Oh yes. He’s got four or five children, I believe, all under the age of fifteen. No doubt they’ll go hungry. It’s a shame, really. But if he can’t make clothes that fit you...”

  Panic struck me. “I didn’t put them on!”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t put them on. I’m sorry. I lied. I thought it was a white lie.”

  Lilah stood up. She looked physically repulsed, her face becoming something twisted and wretched, even though it was still full of beauty. Terrible beauty, though. Dominating beauty.

  “My dear, in this house, there is no such thing as a 'white' lie. Lies have no color. They do have a shape, however.”

  “A shape?”

  “Yes. They are wedges which drive people apart. Do not test me with one again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You shall wear the clothes we set out for you, yes? It is part of your employ.”

  I gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I had thought the clothes were part of something Castle wanted—I was trying to will myself up to wearing them, over time, before his arrival. It had never even occurred to me that Lilah would want me objectified like that.

  “Wonderful. You have perhaps an undesirable figure,” she said, clearly trying to be diplomatic, “but we shall make the best of it. I demand beauty in my household, Abbey. Beauty and health.”

  “Easy for you to say,” I muttered.

  “What was that?”

  It would have been easy to cover for my snotty remark. But, I don't know. I just went with it. Sometimes I get angry, all right?

  “I said, that’s easy for you to say. We weren’t all born l
ike you were.”

  “Yes,” she said, thinking a moment. “It’s rather worked out well for me, hasn’t it?”

  She smiled—a joke. And there it was again—my desire instantly replacing all my anger. Her smile was as gorgeous as the rest of her. And then, her clear acceptance of her place as better, as hotter...that was hot all in itself.

  I think maybe over time I've fetishized the “hottest girl in the world” effect on myself. Women who I want, who I really want, I put them on pedestals in my head higher than anyone else. They become all the beauties back home who never learned my name...only now they want me desperately. In my fantasies, I mean.

  Excusing herself, Lilah left the room for a moment and then returned with a bottle of pills in her hand. She shook out four of them and placed them on the table next to my plate.

  “If you’re going to work here,” she said to me, “then you need to be healthy. What if you take ill, and Claudette and I are incapacitated? Who will look after the house, one of the men? That would be entirely improper.”

  “So...these are for that?”

  “Yes. You must take them.”

  I picked one pill up. It was heavy and wide, the size of a fingernail. “What will they...I mean, what are they for?”

  “They are vitamins. They are good for a woman’s body. They help a woman achieve her natural potential much more readily.”

  “I don’t know...I mean...I have my own vitamins that I take. A multi-vitamin.”

  She scoffed. “You might as well be swallowing rocks. These,” she shook the bottle in her hand, “are financed by my husband. The best of the best. That is how much I care for you, despite your nasty comments and lies. Now, take them.”

  She put her hands on her hips and waited.

  “I really would rather not.”

  “Very well,” she said, beginning to pick them up. “A pity. We shall have to find a new maid already.”

  “You’re going to fire me if I don’t take these pills?”

  She looked at me as if I was being stupid. “Of course. Didn’t I just say how important your health and beauty are to this household? And now, I assure you that these pills are what you need, forever, and you refuse. I cannot work with such stubbornness. You will have what pay you have earned so far, and—”

  “No!” I took the pills from her hands.

  For a moment, my hands slid over hers—they were so soft. So incredibly, deliriously warm and soft. My pussy called out again—those fingers, in here! Please, please!

  I took the pills, then. Lilah seemed pleased, and left me. I went upstairs afterward, of course, and put on my uniform, feeling like a fool. The supposed-to-be-provocative clothing just looked strange on me. The strings and knobs of my body were ungainly inside of the tight clothing.

  At first, I didn’t notice a difference from the pills. I merely accomplished work as usual. But then...then, I noticed that six hours had gone by—in a blaze of happy, peppy work!

  I had been humming. Humming! Me!

  Why would I hum? I never hum. It had to be those pills.

  Lilah tried to serve them to me again, earlier tonight, at dinner. Next door, in the real dining room, I heard her and Terrence and Claudette laughing and cheering as they ate. I was left out, of course. I’m always left out.

  When Lilah presented the pills to me, again, I shook my head.

  “No way,” I said. “I don’t like those things. They made me...I mean, I didn’t lose time. I was really focused, actually. But I just...I don’t know. I feel like they were messing with me.”

  “Nonsense,” said Lilah. “I would happily take them myself, except that I’m pregnant. Please, take the pills? It’s very important.”

  “Lilah, please. Misses Castle, I mean. Madam. I really don’t want—”

  “Must I remind you that your job is at stake?”

  It was like that, then. I had hoped she was bluffing or stretching her will this morning—perhaps feeling hormonal from the pregnancy. But she really was that serious.

  “Fine,” I said, swallowing them down. She watched me all the way—and then had me open my mouth to her.

  “Good girl,” she said calmly, waiting for a response.

  “I’m not a girl!”

  “And neither are you good. We all say things we don’t mean, I suppose, in the quest for courtesy.”

  She left the room, door swinging.

  “Stuff it up your ass!” I said loudly.

  Too loudly. Claudette and Terrence stopped laughing next door. The door still swinging, Lilah strutted back in. I struggled under her icy, laser gaze.

  “I-I think you didn’t hear me right,” I said, fluttering. “I said—”

  “I heard very well what you said.”

  I waited, terrified. She made me sit down.

  “You’re being quite rude, young lady. I’ve done nothing but show you respect and honor in this house—my house. You have a room to stay in, work to occupy your mind, and money sliding toward your bank. If you want to leave, you can do so at any time—and with the all the pay you’ve earned so far, as you well know. And now, you are upset with me because I wish for you to be as healthy as possible for the caretaking of myself and my children?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I was ashamed.

  She shook her head. “Mister Castle will not like to hear of this.”

  I knew she was right. I had been a bitch.

  “I’m...I’m really sorry.”

  She kissed me on the cheek, her lips lingering there. Her bulging belly pushed against my knees. It was so warm. And I...I was turned on.

  “All is forgiven, my dear. But let us try for more tact, in the future? No one enjoys a talking-to, not even the deliverer.”

  I know you know what I need to do now. I've been needing to all day. All I can think about, even after that weird affair, is how fucking hot it is to look at Lilah when she talks. I want her to keep talking to me. I want her to keep smiling at me. I want to go cum, thinking about her smile.

  In fact, that's just what I'm gonna do.

  NOW:

  After exercising, we must bathe. Bathing is so important for hygiene.

  Lilah leads us to the Master bath. It is enormous. The bathtub alone is the size of my bedroom. She stands tall and proud in the center, her huge bare belly so round and full of life. Her big, heavy tits usually are lactating already from all the exertion. I take care to slurp up every last bit that I can. Her milk is so sweet, so delicious.

  Claudette bathes her first. She takes her time with the sponge, lovingly caressing it over every beautiful, shiny inch of Lilah’s body.

  I do the same for Claudette. Soft moans and mews pour from my mouth like wine from a bottle. She is so very beautiful. All I want to do is hold her and lick her and kiss her when I am around her. When I am not around her, I want to do the same for Terrence, or Lilah, or especially Mister Castle.

  After bathing, we dress again. Lilah dresses us, of course. Like gardens in Louie XIV’s Versailles, we are to constantly change our appearance so as to please the King we all adore.

  I dress most often in lingerie, as I said. As it is close to the evening after we bathe, Lilah permits me usually to wear some manner of gown on top of the lingerie—but only so that it shows off my immense tits and my gloriously long blond hair. I look so fucking good.

  I could lose weeks at a time, thinking of my reflection. Thinking of how lovely I look for Mister Castle and his estate.

  THEN:

  Sorry, it’s been a nutty few weeks since my last update. Lots to talk about, though!

  I’ve got so much energy I think I could just write for weeks and weeks and weeks, you know? It’s fun to write.

  Lots of things are fun, really. I’ve been looking over some previous entries here, and I’ve been a BIG downer. Focusing on Diane, or why I thought I was gross, or why I stunk as a person, all of that. It’s not good to be so negative. Claudette talks to me all the time about the power of positive thinking. />
  It's definitely working for her! She's happy all the time. I couldn't imagine someone with a better life. So, I'm going to write up some of the good things happening!

  First of all—all of a sudden, I’ve got tits. And an ass. And hips.

  I mean, I was a skinny, string-bean pole sort of girl, like I've said before. And now, ever since I came to this place, all my body parts are getting really, really...well. Enhanced, I guess you could say.

  My tits—and they are tits, like actual honest-to-god tits—are at a very substantial 36B cup right now. I think in a few days, they’ll be an easy C cup. I’ve been just blazing through bras—which is actually totally fine, because Lilah is super happy to just pay for any new ones that I need! She’s so much nicer than I gave her credit for. I was really acting like sort of a snob to her because of how pretty she was, and like, expecting her to be a snob—but that’s the snobbish thing you could possibly do! It's so much easier to just open your heart up and like the people around you, you know?

  So yes, I completely fill out my uniforms now—and they’ve had to be updated almost daily. I wouldn’t mind how my tits spill out of tiny, frilly maid’s outfits Lilah wants me in, but with how my hips keep getting wider and wider, it gets a bit hard to maneuver without ripping the poor dresses in half.

  I've also...this is sort of weird. But I've gotten taller? I mean, I've always been kind of on the taller side...but now I'm approaching five foot eight, I think. So, my legs are just getting longer and longer, and at the same time, without even going outside or changing my diet much, my skin is getting more bronzed and healthy.

  And my hair!

  My goodness, my hair.

  So, it’s always been short. I chop it short, with scissors of my own. I don’t care what it looks like, really. If I thought I could still get a job and not look like a cancer patient, I would have gone bald long ago.