Lady de la Dia Ch. 01-03

"Um... what do you mean by that?" Amy asked, her voice trembling despite herself. Sex topped her list of uncomfortable discussion topics, partially because of her aforementioned upbringing, but mostly due to the fact that she had never experienced it for herself. During her years of college the boys hadn't shown a glimmer of physical interest in her, save for a few to whom she would never have given the time of day let alone her waning purity. As for the others... perhaps her antisocial tendencies had run them off. Perhaps modern men reallydidn't like full-figured girls. Whatever the reason, Amy Curtis spent her entire educational life knowing only the love of her own fingers... a trait made especially problematic by her sensitive, easily stimulated libido.

If Sarastra noticed this discomfort on the part of her newest employee, she paid it no mind. "I mean that certain ranks of my employees are permitted and encouraged to make love to each other whenever they like, so long as it is documented for our records." Amy squeaked softly, her mind beginning to race. What sort of madness had she gotten herself into?

"Listen, I'd really hate to cost myself a good job by saying something stupid, but I don't want to have sex with people for anybody's records."

"Oh, no worries young lady," Sarastra countered the earnest admission in a easy tone with a soft click of her tongue. "It is completely voluntary. Only once was anyone ever involved in intercourse here against her will, and the servant who had forced her was terminated on the spot."

Amy let out her breath in relief. "Oh, that's wonderful to hear. So... he was just fired then?"

A pause was her answer this time. A long, uncomfortable pause.

"She," said the cosmetics queen in a slightly acidic tone, "was more than just fired. Suffice to say that she'll never work in this industry again. Amy, sweetheart, just as hard work, loyalty, and drive have their rewards, so do disrespect for the rules and lack of self-control have their punishments. If you are uncomfortable with what goes on here, I can only suggest that you do not look, and keep yourself away when such things happen. You may do your job and never touch another person in this house, and you will have still met my expectations for you. What you do with yourself in the confines of your quarters does not demand documentation, unless of course you wish it to be so. How does that sound?"

Amy had neither to pause, nor to consider. "It sounds perfect."

"Then, you may leave now. Lunch will be served shortly."

Chapter 3: Three Days Later

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Amy wheeled herself away from her computer screen, rubbing her eyes as the monitor light faded for the day. Three days, and three absolutely massive journal entries... for all the free food, fancy bed, maid service, and impossibly generous amenities, Amy still felt that she was earning every single second of it. What she may have lacked in the physical beauty and personal skills departments, she certainly made up for it in work ethic and she planned to give Sarastra De la Dia her every second's worth.

Now, Amy lifted only somewhat jiggly arms over her head and stretched, reveling in the exquisite agony rippling through her tummy muscles and her shoulders. As she'd quickly taken to the habit of getting her reports done before nine o' clock at night, three hours ahead of schedule, she now had time to go and make use of the private gym and pool facilities on the first floor of the De la Dia mansion. This, while not her favorite part of her new day's schedule, allowed her to unwind at her own pace after staring for hours at the translucent glow of her borrowed computer's screen.

As she quickly stripped out of her jeans and blue t-shirt, the young woman let her mind wander over the course of her three day tenure there. Every morning at eight o' clock, Sunday school had shown up at her door - always attired in an equally cute pastel colored dress and matching bow set into her ponytail - with clothes for the day, a touch of breakfast, and various one-use cosmetic products set upon her little cart. Neither of them seemed to notice that Amy hadn't learned the serving girl's name yet, as she answered readily to Sunday school or just Sunday and would sometimes giggle girlishly when Amy called her those. Sunday school would draw the bath, and then take Amy's dirty clothes from the previous day onto her cart and disappear with them without a word of explanation or complaint. It had bothered Amy to no end that first morning, when Sunday had taken yesterday's panties onto the cart, as they had still smelled prettily of the physical release Amy had been forced to seek the previous night. However, the pretty girl in the pastel dress seemed neither surprised nor especially interested, and had gone on about her chores with a soft song rising from her naturally wide lips.

After the morning's bathing, in a tub large enough for three or four people, Amy was allowed a few hours to do whatever she wanted... which generally consisted of exploring the massive house and trying to get to know the various servants who could be seen moving about in the course of their duties during the day. Despite her diligence, only about five of Sarastra's staff ever showed up twice in the same place; Donovan Simms, Sunday, a thirty something English woman named Beth, a black girl named Mia, and the always conservatively dressed librarian whose name, believe it or not, was Seven. Unlike the other servants, who were aloof though polite enough, the five of them always greeted Amy warmly and asked her how she was enjoying her stay in their own unique ways. However, beyond those short, randomly occurring meetings, Amy found most of her time would be spent alone. This would continue on until noon, when lunch was served. Amy, being a slightly husky girl, never had any problem with the delicious fare served in that mansion and was never given odd looks for asking for seconds as she would have been by most people she knew on the outside. It was a nice touch, one that made her feel more at home there than anywhere else.

After lunch it was time for athletics with the mysterious, sensual Mia in the form of yoga every other day, alternating with kickboxing classes for which Amy had jumped immediately. Mia's dedication to her chosen arts was obscene, and it showed beautifully in the sleek tone of her limber body. The muscle definition in her shoulders was just evident enough to catch the attention, while her small, but well-formed breasts and perfectly round ass gave a powerful reminder of just how feminine she'd managed to remain. Amy had always wanted to learn some sort of martial art, but had held back for about a dozen reasons including a fear of losing her feminine curves in favor of blocky muscle... though she would not have admitted it, the firm globes of Mia's butt had convinced her otherwise and greatly influenced her decision to give kickboxing a try.

After athletics, and the daily follow-up physical given by a different person each day, Amy was always offered a choice of warm-down sessions. The mansion's steam room, normally reserved only for executives in the company, was opened to her, or she could choose to receive a session of massage therapy until supper, which she happily agreed upon every single day. Sunday school, as it turned out, was the masseuse assigned to her (though after a bit of sniffing around, Amy had soon learned that Sunday and Mia had both been specifically assigned to her anyway, which explained the coincidences) and a very good one at that. She absolutelylovedthe way Sunday's soft, manicured hands felt as they worked hot oil into her skin, how Sunday never commented on Amy's weight, and by the second visit she was comfortable enough with the situation to accept Sunday's offer of a full body massage. Sunday, for her part, maintained a flawless level of professionalism, laughing and chatting in her pleasant little girl's voice while her hands danced blissful ballets up and down Amy's spine.

Supper followed the massage, after which time Amy would usually hole up in her room to complete her duties for the day. Relaxed as she was, her fingers had not yet failed to fly over the keys and churn out a few thousand words describing the bliss of her new situation, and she would then spend a few moments entering her physical results into the log as well. She smiled when she did, thinking of how clear and smooth her skin had already become with the daily battery of moisturizers and cleansing lotions, and how, if she was lucky, her daily athletic sessions might eventually trim out her still chunky figure. In the reflection of the computer monitor, she could see the seeds of a truly pretty woman blossoming in herself, and it made her smile.

Finishing her duties for the day usually meant that Amy had a few more hours of free time to herself. Day one had seen her perusing some of the tomes in Sarastra's sizable library, day two had taken her to the weight room, and day three, to the pool. It was to the latter that her bare feet carried her now.

A respectable walk separated her quarters from the downstairs pool, giving Amy plenty of time to try and figure out just how her borrowed bathing suit's size was off. A simple red one-piece affair, it fit snugly over her shoulders but somehow loosened towards the bottom, causing the material to ride up and down with every step. She recalled Sarastra's speech about 'studying sex' and could not beat her conspiracy sense away from thinking that this garment had been designed specifically to rub her femininity when she walked in it.

"Hello, you!" As Amy descended the staircase between floors, Sunday's voice broke into her thoughts and grabbed her attention. The serving girl's misty blue eyes looked her up and down, pausing at the towel slung over her arm. "Are you going swimming now?"

Amy chuckled. Of course she was going swimming, the bathing suit pretty much explained itself. For all her charm and ability, it was apparent to Amy that Sunday school wasn't really all that bright. "Yeah, I am. Wanna come? I wouldn't mind getting to know the people I live with a little better, and this seems like a pretty good time to start."

Sunday flashed her a quick smile before looking away. "I suppose I could. I was just getting off my shift, anyway."

Side by side they headed down to the pool, a not-quite Olympic sized affair which was nevertheless well tended and heated to a comfortable temperature. No lifeguards served in Sarastra's pool, which disappointed Amy a little as she would have loved a bit of beefcake eye candy. Instead, a few security cameras hung in place at the four corners of the room. As the pool area held nothing of value, she'd immediately assumed that their function was as safety equipment, keeping an eye out for anyone who might have an accident.

"You know, I just thought," Amy began as the glass door closed behind them, "I didn't bring a suit for you, Sunday. I could run and get one for you if you want."

Sunday shook her head, her cute ponytail bouncing as she did. "That's okay, Amy. I think I'd like to sit down for a minute; my feet are killing me. You go ahead and swim, and I'll be with you in just a few minutes."

Amy cooed her sympathy for the poor girl's plight... fast food jobs had taught her just how unpleasant aching feet could be. After kneeling to remove the pleasant servant's spiked heels for her, Amy took a few quick breaths and dove in. She swam a few quick laps along the width of the pool to warm herself up, stopping only once to shake her long, wet hair out of her eyes.

"Wow, Amy!" Sundays clapped her hands, cheering and laughing. "You're a great swimmer. I wish I could be as good as that, but I'm like a little flower petal in the water."

"How do you mean?" Amy wondered out loud, as she leaned against the wall to get her breath back. The temperature of the water was simply delightful, and it felt great flowing underneath that loose bottom.

"Oh, I'm very pretty, but all I can do is float," was the giggling answer. Amy chuckled, truly amused, and swam closer to the deck chairs.

"My sister was a swim teacher, so I had a little help. So, do you want me to teach you or what?"

Sunday's eyes grew wide as dollars. "Really? Would you? I've always wanted to learn how to do more than bob around in the water." Amy assured her that she would.

"We'll start tonight, how about it? We'll have a lesson every night, after I finish my journals." Amy smiled despite herself, feeling oddly benevolent at the moment. "You've been so sweet to me since I came here, so I think I can pay you back a little this way."

Sunday school stood up, and actually bowed a deep, formal bow, almost all the way to the floor. "Thank you! I would love that. I want to start right now." Amy nodded, and backstroked her way towards the center of the pool to wait while Sunday got herself a suit.

The serving girl, on the other hand, seemed to have a different notion of how this was going to go. She reached up and fumbled with a few straps and a zipper, until the subdued rose of her Sunday school dress opened enough for her to slide her arms out the top. Amy sputtered, losing her equilibrium in the water for a moment at the sight in front of her. As the cute little dress slid down Sunday's surprisingly toned figure, Amy realized that the innocent little servant had not a sight of anything on beneath the frills and lace of her outfit. Even as she shook her head to clear away the shock, she noted to herself that she would have practically killed for a body like that... soft and yet hard, slim but so indescribably female, highlighted by a set of perky B cup breasts that framed her soft pink areoles beautifully. Amy caught herself staring and shook her head so hard that her own hair slapped her face.

"Honey, um, aren't you going to get a suit?" she nearly pleaded, if for no other reason than to spare herself the discomfort of trying to look and not to look. Sunday school, who had bent to pick up her dress, cast a puzzled look at her new instructor.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you didn't know," she observed aloud as she folded and stashed the dress upon a tabletop. "Lady De la Dia encourages us to avoid undergarments of any sort, and that includes swimming suits. She says it keeps the tension levels up and makes us more confident when we go places." She faced Amy and smiled her charming little smile, taking the attention - thankfully - away from her radiant skin and carefully trimmed pubic mound. "It's okay. It's just us girls here, anyway. All the other guys except Donovan are on the other side of the house, and he's out checking on a shipment today."

Amy was secretly glad when Sunday cautiously lowered herself into the pool At least the water would distort the serving girl's figure, and she could give her lesson without feeling so terribly awkward.

Things went without a hitch. Sunday's assessment of herself as a swimmer didn't quite ring true, at least not from where Amy floated, and the obligatory 'basics' lesson came and went like spring in Siberia. It troubled her that Sunday's breasts brushed against her whenever she found need to support the serving girl in the water, adding fuel to the fire of her conspiracy theory; regardless, Amy enjoyed herself immensely. She liked Sunday, she really did, and truly hoped that her stiff-necked attitude wouldn't push them apart.

"Tell me something, Sunday," Amy asked once they'd pulled their selves out of the water, "and answer me honest. You aren't... trying to come onto me or anything, are you? By exposing yourself, I mean."

Sunday, who had been drying her lengthy hair with the borrowed towel, cast a doubtful look at Amy, her pretty face drawn up in an odd expression. Amy bit her lip; she knew that she had spoken too soon.

"Um... no, not especially. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're really cute and you're definitely my type even if you are a little bit fat, but I'm not even allowed to intentionally flirt with you, Lady De la Dia's orders. She said that you didn't want to be part of the game, and I would never disobey her. But, I didn't know that you were into girls, Amy, you struck me as pretty straight." The serving girl blinked those gorgeous, misty blues of hers. "Are you? Into girls, I mean." Amy caught her breath, and had to turn her head to keep from dropping her gaze along the still-nude body of the serving girl before her. She ignored the 'a little bit fat' comment as well as the 'cute' comment, just trying her best to put them out of mind as her cheeks filled with blush.

"No, I'm not. I just... you seemed..." she sighed a quiet sigh. "I'm sorry, Sunday. I'm just a little freaked out by the whole 'studying sex' speech that she gave me, and... never mind." Amy nodded once, as if to signify the sincerity of her words. "Forget I brought it up."

Sunday tilted her head, smiled that baby doll smile, and nodded. "Sure thing. It'll take me a few minutes to get into this dress, so you don't have to wait up for me. You should get this chlorine washed off you anyway." Amy's heart finally slowed back to normal, and her eyes, if not her words, spoke of her gratitude for Sunday's understanding. She waved, and trudged back towards her quarters with a lightening spirit that only kicked itself a few times en route. Sunday wasn't a sex fiend or a pervert, nothing like Amy's mind had built her up to be. She was just an innocent young woman in a bizarre situation, much like Amy herself.

She thought about it all the way back to her room, trying not to feel awful for being so forward in her accusations. She thought of her reasoning, and considered finding some way to repay Sunday for her indiscretion.

Within a quarter of an hour, Amy finished laying out her pajamas for the night and getting her articles in order for bed. As she twisted the knobs upon her private shower, an abrupt realization struck her, and she cursed quietly.

"I forgot the stupid towel," she grumbled. "Ah well. It's a short walk, and the water'll be hot by the time I get back."

The path back down to the pool was uneventful for the most part. As usual Amy made it all the way down to the first floor without passing or meeting a single soul. This was an aspect of De la Dia manor she had wasted no time in embracing, as it suited her just fine. She wondered idly if Sunday had gotten that silly dress back on without a crane and a crowbar, and was chuckling to herself at that thought when she reached the glass doors of the pool room.

She stopped dead in her tracks. Took a step back, hand flying up to cover her mouth. Inside, Donovan Simms leaned his broad, suit-jacket clad back against one of the marble walls, which should have been surprising enough considering Sunday's report of his location earlier. His jacket and undershirt both hung open, his tie loosened, displaying a smoothly chiseled chest that should have gotten Amy's attention in a big way. It would have, any day of the week, except for one little detail.

Sunday, rocking on her knees in front of him.

Amy wanted nothing more than to turn away in horror, to flee back up the stairs and bolt herself into her quarters. But something held her feet in place, held her eyes upon the generous lips of the serving girl as they slid so deliciously up and down Donovan's equally generous cock. Sunday's dress and hair bow were back in place but the shoulders of the little doll dress hung open, exposing her creamy white neckline while allowing her soft breasts to spill out, and giving her the look of a very naughty twelve year old. Her head bobbed back and forth in a sublime, sexy rhythm, the wet squelch of her suckling mouth mingling with his low moans and her deep, guttural whimpers of satisfaction. Amy watched in absolute awe, repulsed, attracted... and suddenly very, very excited. She hunkered down in the corner nearest the door, hiding herself from their view while providing herself a better vantage point to watch this spectacle unfold.