Faye and the fat kama sutra

chapter 4: promotion to handmaid

Faye used the maid to make her day painless.
Increasingly bold, demanding, and shameless,
Ever more spoiled with no one to chasten,
Faye’s requests grew frequent and brazen.

Maid, bring my purse. It’s somewhere upstairs.
Maid, take this zipper in for repairs.
Maid, change my sheets. I’m due for a nap.
Maid, can you please unhook my bra strap.
Maid, bring me socks.
Then Faye would beseech,
Put them on my feet. I cannot reach.
Maid, come brush me and tie back my hair.
Maid, come help me, get up from this chair.

The maid assented to all servitude,
and she and Faye inched toward turpitude.

Maid, get the package that arrived out there.
It’s my new bras and new underwear.
Oh don’t act surprised.
You’ve noticed my plight.
My bras and undies were all too tight.
My huge waistline continues to grow.
You bring me food, so I’m sure you know…

Faye, it’s our secret, your state-of-affairs.
I’ll put them away and toss your old pairs.
You should find someone who likes your size.
It should be easy. You’re nice on the eyes.

The maid fetched the package at the front door.
And replaced the undies and bras in Faye’s drawer.
How much had Faye gained? It had been a while.
She saw Faye’s new size and suppressed a smile.
Once 28, now size 32.
Out with the old, in with the new.

Faye enjoyed the maid’s constant attention.
And tacit rapport had replaced their tension.
Faye got used to asserting her power.
Maid, start the water. I need a shower.

The maid brought towels and paused to observe.
Faye’s lathered hair and each massive curve.

Faye saw the maid watching, standing agaze.
She washed her breasts and returned the maid’s gaze.
There in the steam, Faye’s thoughts were unchaste.
She pictured the maid going down for a taste.
Faye left the shower, that thought in her head,
She slipped on her robe, and waddled to bed.

Faye flopped on the mattress, and stroked the new sheet,
She said to the maid,
Massage my feet.
Please use the lotion.
They’re dry and cracked.

The maid thought,
Massage? Not in my contract!
Again she swallowed her initial pride.
But she was conflicted. She cringed inside.

Faye watched her turmoil, watched with breath bated,
then placed her foot on the maid’s lap and waited.

Massage for her boss? The maid hated …
… but Faye’s feet were cute, so soft and inflated.

Faye smiled,
Please? Just for today?
And nervously hoped the maid would obey.

The maid nodded yes, her unease abated.
But just this once! The maid stipulated.
She lotioned Faye’s feet at the bedside,
with strange new desires that wouldn’t subside.

It became routine, a part of each day,
After the lunch feast, a shower for Faye.
Lay out her robe, bring something to eat.
Prepare the bed, and massage Faye’s feet.