Aclysia awoke in her room in the mansion. Karitas’ mansion, by assignment. Her father’s mansion, by true ownership. Her mansion, by shared dwelling. A triumvirate of sensations that closely knit the half-elf into the environment.

Swinging her legs out of the bed, she stretched. Deliberate, long movements, to make every muscle in her body as awake as her mind was. Even the breathing was controlled. Her nubile form was on full display. Petite breasts rose and fell. Her belly curved outwards with deep breaths, only to return to its flat, softly defined state on exhale. Thighs tensed as she got on her toes. Her heels tapped back on the floor. She could feel her butt jiggle, in its rather impressive size.

Aclysia knew what she had to offer, in all its advantages. To flaunt it without control would have been unbecoming. Derilea had drilled it into her from the age that she began to realize what sexual attraction was, that attractiveness was a good most valuable when displayed with caution. Only for those dear to her, should she unveil and display herself. 

The drawn curtains allowed no one to take a peek at her and yet she imagined someone was watching. Her Master, the person who she honoured with the privilege of her loyalty. To be a maid had been in her blood and she had taken to the lifestyle well. It was her calling and she answered it willingly.

The mental image of the man whom she was to serve had once been a hazy phantom. Recently, it had taken the firm shape of a man with white hair and blue eyes. Aclysia turned her head to smile at her bed, as if she could find Karitas there. Like every other morning, she was disappointed. A state of being that would not last for much longer.

Unless her father ruined it all for her.

Aclysia’s smile collapsed into a frown. A complicated mixture of emotions rose in her chest. The love she had for her father wrestled with the adoration she had for Karitas. How dare her father interfere and ruin what she had nearly attained? Worse, draw his blood.

She was so close, to attaining it all. The conversations with her Queen-to-be were amicable and none else would she accept as her superior. Esther was all she could have asked for, stern when it came to reigning in Karitas’ excesses and soft where it came to complimenting his strengths. All of the careful and fateful meetings and conversations, threatened in their culmination.

A violent rage compromised Aclysia’s posture. She hunched forwards and grit her teeth. Then she slowly exhaled. “How dare father hurt my Karitas?” she mumbled and let the rage simmer inside her. It was only appropriate to be upset with what inconvenienced her beloved.

To stir in it, however, was unproductive. Aclysia had her morning routine to consider. First, she made the bed. Little had to be done there. She was a still sleeper and only needed a single pillow. It was fluffed easily, the sheets pulled straight and the blanket folded so she could slip underneath it in the evening.

Aclysia turned right and took a measured step. She shook her head, returned to her original position, then took the step again. This time, she did it with the proper sway. The maid sashayed along the walls of the room, inspecting the state of the furniture and presenting herself to her imaginary Master with every metre crossed. Her long hair bounced with every step.

‘Perhaps I should have it shortened?’ she wondered. She would have to carefully inquire if Karitas preferred it if her hair was as long as it was currently, reaching her thighs, or if he’d rather have it so it would not obstruct the view of her butt.

The surfaces around the room were as clean as she had left them yesterday. There was little decoration around her. No point existed in outfitting a room that she would not stay in. In a few weeks time, she would be invited to Karitas’ room and she would not leave it again. The memory of her drunken dare, when she had slept in his arms, made her skin flush and prickle. She finished her round, then directed her march towards a red shirt that hung over the back of one of the chairs. It was terribly out of place in the otherwise spotless room.

Aclysia grabbed it and, with not even a moment of hesitation, pressed it against her face. She inhaled deeply. The masculine scent filled her from the nostrils all the way down to the lungs. Like her future, he smelled, of stars and pine and confidence. The slight note of sweat added exertion to the mix. She wondered what he had done while wearing this one. Being in charge of the laundry afforded her the opportunities of absconding with his worn shirts and she took them whenever she required.

With his scent filling her lungs, she dropped down on one of the chairs and reached between her legs. Eyes closed, lost to the moment, she quietly moaned to herself and imagined it was his fingers. She barely needed five minutes before she had brought herself to orgasm.

‘Ah, I did it again,’ she thought, with just a twinge of shame in her heart. Masturbation had become a more frequent pastime of hers recently and the number was only ramping up further. After leaving her Karitas and Esther to their lewd activities yesterday, she had brought herself to orgasm several times. The more time she spent with them, the more intense her urges got. ‘What will they do to me when it is finally time?’

Taking a parting huff of his scent, Aclysia pulled the shirt away from her nose. She furrowed her eyebrows, displeased with herself that she had left a spot wet with drool. Standing up, she kept it in her hands for one moment. The thought to put it on (and only it) and make her way to the bathroom occurred. For that manoeuvre, however, she was not daring enough - yet. Particularly with the friends of her Master-to-be in the house.

Instead, she marched to the large closet. The double-doored wooden furniture was the reason why she had chosen this room in particular. It had a coat hanger and various drawers, for her to finely sort out her items. For the morning, she put on a simple indoor dress. It was only to cover her while she made her way to the bathroom.

Aclysia used the same bathroom as Esther and Karitas did. However, she was, as per usual, there an hour before them. To be the maid was to be the first to awaken. Besides, there was a mild satisfaction in seeing the clean shower. Esther was thorough in her discipline and always cleaned up after herself. Therefore, when Aclysia showered first, she could leave the glass behind wet, knowing it would be used and cleaned within the hour. A rudimentary cleaning, certainly, but enough to make the maids' life easier.

‘As mother’s adage goes: do not serve those who make serving difficult,’ Aclysia thought to herself, as she began her morning routine. It was an overall short affair. She brushed her teeth, then her hair, reining in what few strands had escaped her backwards comb overnight and undoing any onsetting knots that may have formed. That took her about ten minutes, after which she hopped into the shower. She cleaned herself thoroughly with a sponge, ever committed to scrubbing any impurities from her smooth, pale skin. After she stepped out, she covered herself in a thin layer of moisturizer, let that be absorbed, and did her final inspections. Afterwards, she put on the clothes for the day.

It was Monday, therefore it was time for her school uniform. The garter belt came first, then the stockings. The fine black, semi-translucent fabric rolled along her long legs one after the other. The tops were secured with straps, then she put on her bra and panties, a matching set of white. The red shirt’s long sleeves were pulled over her arms, the buttons all closed. Last was the skirt, whose belt wrapped around her lower waist. The pleated fabric settled over the curve of her butt.

Aclysia inspected herself in the mirror, trying to spot any imperfections. She checked behind her pointy ears for any excess moisturizer. Then, she smiled diligently and nodded to herself. Before her stood exactly the woman she aspired to be. Now it was time to make her acts match her appearance and be a good woman worthy of a good man.

The most important step of every morning, she had found, was to make coffee. Among Karitas’ negative attributes was an addiction to the black liquid. Among the bad habits a Master could have, this was one of the better ones. Caffeine was a compound found across many worlds and it gave her an easy path to ingratiate herself. To make a delicious coffee was to make herself indispensable.

‘Remember, daughter, that men will ingest whatever you put before them, as long as it is edible. However, while they may not mind a subpar meal, they will never forget a great one.’ Another piece of advice from her mother wandered through her mind.

With great care, Aclysia prepared the coffee machine. She employed every last trick in the book, to get the most aroma out of those beans. She fully ignored the coffee machine. Even if there was only a 5% increase in the taste, she was fully willing to invest double the effort.

“Morn’, ‘Clysia,” yawned Arlethia, while she marched into the kitchen. The short and stacked succubus wore one of her boyfriend’s shirts and hotpants. If there was any pretence about her hiding her curves, it was lost when she reached underneath the t-shirt and scratched between her boobs, revealing the underside of her enormous chest in the process.

In a way, Aclysia admired this lack of care. To retain her modesty in public was preferential to her personal taste, however. To surrender it only in small and creative ways, like that ball vibrator they had bought yesterday. What that remote control could do in the hands of her Master…

“You are up early,” Aclysia responded chirpily, the lewd thoughts pushed aside for the moment.

“Yeah… you know how it is… when the morning wood calls, you go for the succ… eh?” Arlethia wiggled her eyebrows and gestured at her demonic horns. The maid responded with an elegant chuckle. “Good enough. Mind making him a cup too? He’d appreciate it, whenever he wakes up.”

“That will pose no problem,” Aclysia assured her. The extra work to make the cup of coffee extra tasty was meant for Karitas. With the preparations done once, filling the container up with more than one person’s worth was a minimal increase in effort.

“You’re the best,” Arlethia said and sat down at the dinner table.

“I am grateful for your appreciation.” Aclysia put the electric water boiler aside and let the coffee gradually emerge on the other side of the filter. “Would the laundry machine be currently unoccupied?”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll get to that right away,” Arlethia stated and hopped up.

“I could-“

“Nah.” The succubus waved away the offer before Aclysia could make it. “Willt and I have to stay capable of doing our own chores. You’ll be Karitas’ maid, not ours - the lucky bastard.”

“I would introduce you to one of my full-blooded sisters, but there are none other in attendance at the moment,” Aclysia reported, as she followed Arlethia out of the kitchen and into the washing room. “Admittedly, I believe they would not be struck by Willt.”

“Yeah, you mentioned it before that you’re all a bunch of giant fucking bottoms,” Arlethia cackled.

A crude way to express a previously shared similarity between the Kings that the daughters of Derilea served. All of them were strong-willed and dominant in their behaviour, asserting their presence in a variety of ways. Of course, there were vast differences between Karitas and Imrult, the Master of Order whom her older sister Teliala served as Queen. It was that specific aspect that they shared.

Crude it was and also accurate. Aclysia herself was not certain if there was something genetic about it or if her mother had perfected her style of upbringing. Likely, it was both. Derilea herself was a maid out of her own conviction and why would a mother not wish to share the path that had worked so tremendously to assure her own happiness? Aclysia would certainly replicate it with her own children, when she was blessed with daughters.

Arlethia got her laundry out of the machine and Aclysia then loaded it up with what she had gathered by yesterday evening. When they returned to the kitchen, Aclysia started cooking and they continued chatting about this and that for a while.

Eventually, Karitas entered the room. “Good morning my lovely Aclysia and hello Arlethia,” her Master-to-be greeted them in a sing-song voice. For a moment, it sounded like he wouldn’t even need his coffee this morning. An impression that immediately changed when he yawned. Rapidly, the maid moved to pour him a cup and brought it to the table. “You spoil me, spoil me more than I could ever deserve.”

“I will decide the degree of service you deserve,” Aclysia hummed, while he sipped on the cup. Her estimations were accurate as ever, it was at the hot end of drinking temperature and thus required no waiting time on the part of her man. “I must sadly remind you that you will have to partake in your lunch without me today.”

“That is a sad reminder,” Karitas sighed and it made her heart sink. Then it soared back up when he gave her a smile. “I am being theatrical Aclysia. I’ll miss you… and your cooking, but mostly you. I’ll still see you in the evening, right?”

“Affirmative,” Aclysia said with a nod.