The Maid For Service Bundle (11 page)

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

A
fter 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.

S
orry, 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.

But, a couple of weeks ago, I noticed one of my naturally dirty blonde locks had become bright, golden blond. It slid down over my eyes—and was eerily silky soft. I chopped it right off, as soon as I saw it. I thought I had, I don't know, accidentally knocked some bleach into my hair or something.

The next morning, the lock had returned, and with company. There were three or four locks all blond, and all of them long. I chopped it all off again—and also trimmed down the rest of my hair. It had gone almost past my neck, which never happens.

This continued for a few days—with my hair steadily getting longer and blonder the whole time—until I just gave up.

Now, it’s comfortably right past my shoulders. I’m getting rather good at trimming it, I think—and Claudette even gave me a pair of real hairstyling scissors so that the cuts could be cleaner. The color is cheery, bright blond. And...I have to admit, it really makes my whole demeanor much more cheerful and vibrant.

I thought I would hate that—being
forced
to be cheery...but you know what? I sort of like it. It’s kind of like being dropped off at summer camp, you know? All of a sudden, because you’re in an environment where you can’t
help
but meet new people, you actually start to meet new people? The same deal with...whatever’s happening with me now. Because I look friendlier and sexier, I
feel
friendlier and sexier.

I smiled in the mirror just now, giggling at the ridiculous thought of comparing my changing body to a summer camp. I could hardly believe it was me. The girl in the mirror just looks so
pleased
. I want to be her friend. I want to fucking go
out
with that girl...and that girl is
me
.

I blame the pills for all the changes, of course. I know, I know—probably you do too. You’re not dumb. You probably caught right on—maybe you caught on even before I did!

But like...well, it’s not as if any of these changes are making me look
bad
. Or feel bad. In fact, I've had nothing but
good
consequences from them. Claudette won’t stop complimenting me. Neither will Lilah.

“You just look like an angel on Earth,” Claudette said just today, kissing me on the cheek.

And Lilah, as she slid her hands down my back: “You’re an absolute knock-out, girl. Look at you.”

Stuff like that. I know it’s cheesy, but...I can’t help but like it. It feels so
good
to be noticed for a change. Can’t I enjoy it, just a little?

I feel like I deserve it.

I don't even mind that Claudette and Lilah have been touching me so much. God, who would? They're so hot. Something about the way their hormones hit them means they love touching and being touched. Lilah made it clear it was part of my job to cooperate with their desires when it came to touching, and you know what? I'm fine with it.

I get to touch Lilah's body whenever I want. The hottest babe around. And when I'm not touching her, I'm touching Claudette. And they
want
me to. It's so invigorating.

Also, they’ve gotten very strict about the dress code. It seems that—after I capitulated to Lilah when it came to the pills and the one uniform, they knew they had all the power.

It all culminated one day when Claudette cornered me as I was cleaning Mister Castle’s enormous vacant study.

I heard her before I saw her, of course. By this time, I was wearing rather elaborate three-inch heels. They had leather straps that slid across the tops of my feet and up around my ankles. But even those didn’t compete with Claudette’s awe-inspiring six-inch heel gladiator style-sandals. The heels were solid steel.

She slid down across from me on the long leather couch in front of the fire place, her long legs in the air. She stroked the leather for some time, erotically almost. I watched as she leaned over, her heavy tits pressing hard against the cushions, and took in a deep breath. I could see that her nipples were dripping small amounts of milk through the tight confines of her clothing.

“Can I help you find something?” I asked.

“Oh, no, thank you!”

She stood up, as if this was the first she had noticed me. Perhaps it was. A tight yellow minidress clung to her bodaciously busty form. Her baby bump was more than evident—it was on display. The trio of hot, round bulges protruding from her bod—two boobs and a bump—were impossible to ignore in the skin-baring cloth of the dress.

“I like to come in here and just...inhale his scent, sometimes.”

“His scent?” I asked. “The scent of...Mister Castle?”

“Of course. Can’t you smell him?”

She took in a deep breath, rotating her fingers around her incredibly erect nipples.

I really couldn’t.

I couldn’t, in fact, truly fathom the way these women talked about Mister Castle at all. She and Lilah treated him in conversations as if everything he said was the word of God. They spoke of him with enormous reverence, and anything that was contrary to even the tiniest bit of his will was not allowed.

Their incredibly high-heeled footwear was a great example of this. The last day they saw him, he had asked for six-inch heels, apparently. And, as he had not returned since that time to tell them any different, they continued to only wear six-inch heels. Again and again they stressed to me the importance of building up my tolerance for heels—they were so important for Mister Castle’s needs, they said. He loved a woman in heels. A woman in heels was really working to the best of her ability. A man couldn’t possibly be pregnant, busty, and clean and cook like a woman could, all the while wearing sexy heels to showcase her appearance. It was
important
to distinguish herself in this way, to display what power the feminine body had.

It was a crock of shit, if you asked me—but they didn’t ask me. They just told me.

And I did what they said—they were paying my bills, and...you know what? These pills are making it easier and easier to wear more and more outlandish footwear. It was fun, like they said. I enjoy it more and more every day.

Claudette stood up and guided me over to the couch. “Come now. Breath in. I know you can smell his musk.”

The top of her tits pressed hard against my naked arm. I tried to pull away.

“No, thank you.”

“Come on.” She grabbed me again. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

I shook her off. “Leave me alone, all right?”

She smiled. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“I don’t
want
to be friendly with you, okay? Get it through your head. I’m here to work.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Claudette.

“Well, believe it, all right? I’m a bitch. I don’t like you.”

I was really, really convinced of this. At this time, I just...I didn't trust them. Any of them. They were always so friendly. So happy. So welcoming. They were up to something!

She clasped her hands together. I noticed for the first time how they had little lace gloves on them—see through and yellow, the same color as her dress. Cute bows decorated with canaries topped her wrists.

“No, I don’t think you’re a bitch,” she said. “I think you’re scared.”

“Scared?” I scoffed. “What could I possibly be scared of from you?”

“You’re scared I won’t like you. I think you’re scared everyone won’t like you. So you want to control them by not giving them a choice. You act awful on purpose so that you can pretend like it’s your decision when someone doesn’t want to be your friend. You can pretend like you forced them to that. But you can’t control other people, dearie. You’re not the type.”

“...Then who is?” I had become very withdrawn. Very quiet.

“Mister Castle, of course. But don’t worry about that. He’s away for a while, yet. Listen.”

She slipped forward and took my hands into her chest—between her cleavage. It was so warm there. So inviting.

“I think you’re really smart and lovely. I wish we didn’t have to be so hostile toward one another. And you’re looking so very...scrumptious, lately.”

Her eyes had become predatory.

“Our family here could really use someone like you. Someone who has so much to learn. Lilah and I...we have much to teach.”

I gulped. She drew me in closer to her body. Her breaths were so warm on my face.

“N-no. Hey. I’m not...I don’t...”

“Of course you are. Of course you do.”

Her breasts were soft. Really, really soft. I sank my hands into them, soft little mews tumbling out from my mouth. Animal sounds, she had reduced me to.

She pulled me in for a kiss. My own tits—my
new
tits—pressed hard against hers. Bonfires of delight spread out from my nipples, setting my whole tinderbox body ablaze.

“C-Claudette...”

Shushing softly, she slipped her hands around my neck and guided me downward. I did not resist. She was so pretty.

Soon, my mouth slid over her nipple—the same milk-heavy nipple I had noticed before. I can’t tell you why—I just lapped it up. There was not much, but I took all that was there. It was so sweet, so heavy and delicious. I could have sucked on her all night long.

I wanted to go deeper, lower. I wanted to lick this pregnant woman’s pussy!

But she pulled my head up and stopped me.

Then, grinning, she slipped down to her knees before me. She pushed me back onto the couch until I lay down. And then, pushing my legs apart, she started licking my pussy instead.

Her tongue was...god, I can hardly even describe it. It was magic. Pure magic. She slipped it over the hot bud of my clit, licking me gingerly at first.

“Oh, Claudette!” I moaned. “Oh, my god!”

Encouraged now, she licked faster and faster. My legs squirmed around her beautiful head. Her long hair spilled all over my lap and thighs. I could feel milk from her nipples sliding out from her dress and onto the backs of my legs, sliding down toward my pussy.

“I'm gonna...I'm g-gonna...”

An explosion of pleasure swept over me. I squeezed my legs tight around Claudette's head, and she moaned as she licked harder and harder.

I came. Hard. I came
so
hard. Her tongue was magic, pure magic.