Trophy (Devilla-Roche and Greg Grey)

"No, Milenka will feed you of course. Master should not be fed, not when feeling like this."

Milenka picks up another delicious piece of pancake and shoves it in his mouth and watches Gray take it from her.....she sees that a small amount of syrup is running from the right corner of his mouth and she attends to it, wiping his mouth gently with the linen napkin, which is sprawled out all over his body....

"And my Master is feeling better as I told you Master would. Drink I gave you does good job at getting rid of hang over. It make stomach all better too. No, how you say, throw-up. You will eat. No worries."

Milenka grabs another piece of pancake and again shoves it in his mouth....she smiles at him and can't help but kiss him on the forehead again...she goes back to his still hardened cock and spits on it adding the lubrication that is needed, not only for a better hand job, but to allow him more of a heightened feeling of being jerked-off...her hand goes back into motion as he finishes chewing his pancake....her hand up and down, rotating, slowly rubbing over the head of his cock where thousands of nerves feels every bit of Milenka's hands and helps to bring Gray that much closer to having himself release his come....

As I luxuriate in the easy, relaxed ministrations of her hand, basking in the attentions of this profoundly beautiful woman, she continues feeding me my breakfast. I know I should be talking with her, asking her at the very least about the food - but my mind is unable to form conversation. Instead, in time with her languid strokes, I moan little pleas, utter little compliments as - again and again - she brings me forkfuls of food.

Pancakes

"So...good..."

Bacon

"Unnh...oh my god..."

Eggs

"Oh god, so good..."

I'm not, though, talking about the food.

And all along, all through my feeding, she's cooing to me, proud encouragements, sweet accolades, in English, in Russian. The moment is slowly changing, growing more tender, more intimate, in the early morning light, evolving into...something more...

"Oh...god. M-Milly..."

In time, though, most of the plateful she had prepared for me is gone. She plucks a full, ripe strawberry from a small bowl between two fingers and shows it two me, eyebrows raised in query. I nod, and she smiles warmly. She cups my sharply swollen sac from below, shaking a gasp from me, and brings the strawberry to my lips: Dessert.

I have a nibble, then another bite of the tart, fleshy fruit. As I take the final little bit, she slides her one finger between my lips and I start to suck, gently, on its tip. As if by instinct. She purrs something in Russian, and offers another strawberry.

I nod, and she draws her finger out to get another berry. Again I feed on it, from her hand, and again I suck in her finger. This time, though, she allows her finger in deeper, into my mouth. I moan, and start again to suck. She coos to me, in Russian, and I close my eyes.

And so, laying there, sucking on her index finger as her other hand ministers to my bulging, throbbing, painfully erect manhood, I close my eyes and listen to her voice. I don't understand a word, of course, but her voice is so warm of tone, so soothing, so low and sexy, that it brings me closer and closer and closer to the inevitable. Though her hand has not sped up even the slightest, and just continues its firm stroking, in a slow, slow rhythm: climax approaches.

I know she can sense it, as I suck below her, reading my escalating little moans and grunts, the quivers in my belly. Using the one finger in my mouth, she turns my face towards her and speaks something to me in Russian, encouraging me, I think, to open my eyes. As I do - gazing now, unabashedly, upon her full, heavy chest in her tight, white sweater, she repeats herself in English:

With a slight lilt in her voice and smiling she feeds him the rest of the eggs...
"Хороший человек здоровый человек я всегда говорю."

And then grabs his cheek....

In a chirp-like manner she says...
"Milenka enjoys feeding husband to be so much."

Then she feeds him the strawberries and has him suck on her strong, yet narrow finger...
"Вы не имеете ни малейшего представления, что я хочу сделать с вами, учитель."

Milenka then places her chest before Gray's closed eyes and says...
"Вы хотите Milenka распаковать ее сверху для вас?"

Then he opens them and sees this....

She repeats herself in her broken English...
"You want that Milenka unzip for you?"

Oh christ, oh my god.

"Da," I murmur, not even realizing myself that I've fallen into Russian, that I've somehow drunk in her speech patterns like a toddler mimicking its mother, "da...da.."

I do want you to unzip for me.

She giggles, cooing something again to me in Russian, something simple. Not expecting me to understand but...maybe playing along. Without hesitation, though, her hands leave me - her right leaving my cock, her left index finger leaving my mouth - so she can reach to her zipper, fully up on her high-neck sweater...



...and immediately my heart starts to race. I want...to see her tits...so bad... But my cock, standing naked and twitching over my belly, feels suddenly so alone, so needy...it takes everything in my power not to move my own hand down to grasp it...

I'm entranced, as she slowly starts to lower her zipper, but - I...I can't just stare, can I?, I think, I can't just stare at her tits, as she jerks me off. That's...loutish, coarse, vulgar...right?

And so, I look up, up at her face. She's beaming down on me, proudly, but she purses her lips, and furrows her brow as my eyes leave her chest. And though she clucks her tongue in disapproval, her eyes glimmer in playfulness. Nonetheless, she takes my chin in one hand...



...and slowly tilts my head, lowers my face so that I once again gaze upon her chest.

"Oh, god, Milly..." I murmur, both fully aroused and fully chagrined that she has struck upon my breast fetish, and - though I realize she is beginning to understand the advantages it gives her, its practicality, its usefulness - I do nothing to stifle it.

Her giggle tells me everything.

Satisfied now that she has my full attention, she releases my chin. Her left hand returns to the zipper, her right - nnnnhhhh - to my cock...and again she begins to stroke me...so slowly, as...excruciatingly leisurely...she returns to unzipping her sweater.

She does it with drama, with meticulousness. Knowing her chest must completely fill my vision, she does everything she can to emphasize - and augment - her huge size. A deep breath, a squaring of her shoulders, and a slow thrust of her ribcage - good god...she's huge...



Oh my god oh my god oh my god. The impendence of my orgasm returns full force, under the renewed attentions of her soft, firm hand and this new spectacle planted right...in front of...my face.

She hears me gasp, and whine a small missive. I'm staring, now, fully agog at her giant breasts and she can't help but giggle, and whisper to me in Russian again, an intimate blessing, a go-ahead for relase....as she inches in closer...



She's telling me to come...she's telling me to come...I know it...

...but does she know, as I stare at her breasts, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, that I can only imagine myself - that I want nothing else in the world, right now - burrowing into her chest, sliding into her cleavage. My face, my head...my whole self...in between....her-

And so, ultimately...when she returns her finger to my lips, bringing me a suck as she squeezes my cock with final, firm vigor and then speaks the one word of endearment as I stare at her tits: "Oh, ребёнок"...

Did she just..?

UUUUnnnnnggggghhhhh.....

Oh god.

UUUUnnnnnggggghhhhh.....

oh christ...

UUUUnnnnnggggghhhhh...

The climax -so long in coming, built with such loving care - lasts forever. Forever, it seems, I am in her hand, spurting hot juice up onto my chest, nearly to my neck. Forever, it seems, I suck on her finger, fervently, desperately, as if trying to draw from it even more pleasure, more of her. Forever, it seems, I'm listening to her tender voice, her sweet Russian coos and purrs of encouragement and solace as I gape and whine at the spectacle of her giant bosom. I'm there forever...or at least wish I could be.

But it does start to wane, eventually. She draws from me the most long, peaceful, warm orgasm I have ever felt, a comforting, tranquilizing force. But soon my senses return, gradually. I feel the hot come on my belly, on my chest - some on the napkin, soaking through, but much on my skin. I feel her hand still slowly massaging me, easing me back down, soothing me. She allows me to suck, to suck on her finger - first still staring at her breasts, then with eyes closed - for a good long while. Still she coos to me, sweetly, patiently. But soon I start to burn in shamed self-reproach, and release her finger.

She looks down at me in proud bliss herself, once again so pleased that she could do this for me - for "Master" - in my time of need. Her programming, I know, makes this an almost spiritual event for her...and it was divine, for us both, I gather.

To fight off my own impending chagrin, though, I force a chuckle and let out a puff of breath. I tell her how great that was, and in praise and half-jest I say:

"Thank you for, uh...taking care of that for me. I...I think I'm going to want that every morning..."

Some of his come goes on Milenka's fingers and her hand, the one that jerked him off, not the one that was in his mouth....in a very sexily way, she licks herself clean, her puffy lips and tongue taking in every drop....then with a coo and a giggle she grabs the napkin and attends to him....

"Milenka make sure Master is all clean. I come back to wipe you down, yes? Of course I do."

Milenka sashays away from him, her derriere and the ass cleavage that slightly shows from under the sweater....unforgettable and worth a look from him....upon her return she dabs and wipes his chest, his abdomen , and his now cock - somewhere between being hard and flaccid - then he speaks...

Master Greg said:

"Thank you for, uh...taking care of that for me. I...I think I'm going to want that every morning..."

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"Is nothing. If Master wishes for me to do that every morning, well, then I do. Now, Milenka must tend to things. Clean up breakfast. Clean house. Master get more sleep, I wake up later."

She smiles and kisses him, again on the forehead, as if she were like his mother rather than a future wife....again, that incredible derriere along with her curvaceous hips move quite nicely as she leaves the room....

Milenka gets changed, cleans the kitchen and then gets started on a salad for dinner....

...once done, she changes into her maid's uniform and starts with the house vacuuming....

"Master get more sleep, I wake up later."

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Despite her Miraculous Kazakh Hangover Cure (which - my headache being better - actually may have worked a little...or maybe it was the meds. Or maybe the killer handjob) I actually agree with her, and think another few hours of sleep may do me good. I watch her, nonetheless, as she struts from the room, and - though I'm marveling again at her figure - am fighting a touch of disquiet.

These last twenty-four hours have been...intense. Specifically, the hours where I found myself entranced by and effectively seduced by my new made-to-order bride. More specifically, the couple moments where I had the most amazing sex of my life: with her mouth and with her hand. I could see myself, already, allowing my life to change. I could see how it could degenerate, quickly - why would I ever want to leave this house, when I have her here?

Bah. Think on it later, Gray. Go back to sleep.

And so, in the dappled, early morning sun and late, waning glow of orgasm, I put my hands behind my head and lean back into my pillows to close my eyes...thinking about her...

...but eventually I sleep.

-----------------------------

Hours later (two? three?), I wake again. Though my headache is much better, and my stomach settled, I'm still half in the bag. I sit up in bed, rub the remains of the night from my eyes, and think - wow, I'm glad I took the day off, that no one expects me in the offices today.

Still shirtless, and wearing my pajama bottoms, I rise from the mattress and make my way out, and down the hall. Yes, I'm shuffling, and I make it as far as the library before I stop...I hear her, in there.

I look in and - wow. She's...in a maid's uniform? Cleaning, I guess. There's a vacuum running, and she seems to be meticulously dusting the collection of books I have with a brush attachment. With her back to me, she's on a stool, reaching for the highest shelf...what a sight. With her short skirt, I can see nearly every inch of her long, strong legs, corded musculature highlighted and defined.

With the noise of the vacuum, she doesn't hear me come in. Eyes glued to her fantastic hips and rear, I make my way to the leather couch in the center of the room and sit, to watch. I slouch a bit, and smile, a bit in awe of the amazing physicality of this woman in my home...my future wife...

Still unbeknownst to her, I watch her work, for a little bit, admiring her diligence - and her drop-dead bod. Incredulous even at myself (it's going to be one of those days, huh?), I begin again to feel myself becoming aroused again, by the sight of her. And so, after a minute or so, I begin to feel a little too much like a stalker and decide to announce myself.

"Don't let me disturb you..!" I call out, over the vacuum.

Hearing over the vacuum, Milenka turns around and places her hand over her breasts....

"Master Greg give Milenka a surprise. Did not know you are awake. You look much better. Master seem to be ready for day, no?"

Milenka smiles and looks straight through him in her wonderful way....
"You like uniform. Milenka no mind to wear. Is what Milenka train in. Have several uniforms. Besides, is most appropriate, wouldn't Master agree?"

She gives him a somewhat vacant look, her eyes like pools, just staring at Gray, awaiting for his answer in the hopes that he approves of her clothes...

"I...I am ready for the day, I guess..." I answer, marveling now at the way her body has turned: two feet flat on the stool, she's twisted her upper body to face me, absolutely highlighting her ridiculous curves in her maid's outfit.

"And, I d-do like your cos-....uh, uniform," I say, impure thoughts making their way into my head already. I'm about to tell her that she doesn't need to wear this sort of thing, when she cleans. But, something stops me. "And...you have other uniforms?" I ask, picturing the single piece of luggage she came off the plane with, "Other maid uniforms or...other outfits?"

Milenka lifts up a heavy chair with the greatest of ease and finishes vacuuming underneath it....

...her face still in that perpetual smile....she then turns off the vacuum and lets the chair down and listens to his question....

"Milenka have other uniforms and one of same. Is can mix and match. You not worry Master, I look appropriate. Like uniform anyway. Is comfortable for me, make Milenka look pretty too. You not think it makes Milenka pretty?"

Milenka pushes her chest out, her hands on her hips...from Gray's perspective, she not only seems taller, her submissive uniform at odds at such an authoritative pose....

Wow, will I ever get used to that? I think, as I watch her lift the heavy leather club chair to clean under it, How easy that is for her?

When done, she switches off the vacuum and turns towards me - her attention suddenly in powerful focus, onto me. I can't help it but my heart skips - Will I ever get used to this, either?. With her height, her beauty, her innocent but seductive allure, her very presence is compelling. And in this outfit...wow.

"...You not think it makes Milenka pretty?"

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I look at her, from maybe ten feet away. She's standing erect, straight, chest out impressively. Hands on hips, in all seriousness. And with her heels - she looks taller than ever.

I gulp.

"No, uh...you look very pretty," I say, as she takes a slow step towards me, one foot crossing over the other, "I have the prettiest maid in the neighborhood, definitely..."

She takes another slow step, and looks down at me now with one eyebrow cocked, a little smile of amused displeasure. She didn't like my answer...

Another step, one foot over the other. I shoot a quick glance down at her high-heeled feet, the developed muscles of her calves and narrow taper of her thin ankles, sheathed in black nylon. And then back up at her face.

"...uh, did I say 'neighborhood'?" I correct myself, as she takes another step, "I meant the city...prettiest maid in San Diego..."

Another step, more displeasure - though I see her trying to keep from giggling; it's in her eyes. At this point, her hands have drifted behind her, pulling her shoulders back and accentuating her hourglass figure even more dramatically.

I'm starting to have to tilt my neck to keep her gaze as she approaches, looking taller and taller with every step. My heart is beating quickly, again, and - jesus christ - I can feel myself starting to harden.

"...A-America?" I say, after a pause and another slow step from her, "I h-have the prettiest maid in America?" I'm hoping my tone is light, that she gets my humor...but it's starting to be less and less funny, even to me.

This draws from her a crooked smile, and she approaches closer. By now, I'm craning my neck up, and have unknowingly started to spread my legs, just a fraction. She's only a couple feet from where I sit, now, and finally closes the gap with her last two steps.



For a moment I stare up at her, she down at me - or at least, I try. I can barely see her face over the huge swell of bosom, squeezed tightly into her black maid's uniform. She's drawn a deep breath, to make her figure even more impressive, to purposefully block out my view even more completely.

Slowly, though, she lowers herself to her knees, in front of me. Hands still behind her back, chest thrust out, she slowly twists her shoulders, back and forth, displaying her torso.

I try, though - hard as I can - to maintain her gaze. Despite her amused smile, her eyes are fiery, right now. They challenge me to keep them, to not look down and start to groan and gape. I know I could be in her mouth, in moments, if I asked. But I know, I know that this is almost a test - can she really play me this easy? Am I, at her whim, a slobbering moron who crumbles and wilts at the sight of a pretty girl? It's been less than a day - and this would be three times, already!

"I..." I start, knowing I have to find my voice, "I have the prettiest maid in the world..." I reach up, and gently lay my hand on her cheek, cupping her jaw and chin from below. "The most beautiful woman in the world," I continue, "I...I mean it..."

This changes her. The fire in her eyes cools to warmth, to tenderness. I almost see her blush - does she believe it? Does she know its actually true? Her smile widens, and she looks away, almost shyly. She does, I think, she does know, she's been told by her makers....she's the most perfect thing on the planet.

Oh, god, she is...

But the brakes have to be pulled, this has to stop...for now...

"Hey -" I say, knowing I should ease the mood, drawing her attention back to me, "this is kind of a big place for one little girl to clean..." I see her eyes shoot down to her own chest, and mine follow to allow myself one glimpse down her top. She smiles wryly as she looks back up at me, as if to say 'Little?'

I shrug my shoulders, and she giggles.

"...do you want some help? Y'know...cleaning...?"

Gray's words, and how they characterize Milenka sets into motion the chip that KOLLECTV has placed in her brain.....why else would a mere bimbo push herself to stand up to and correct Gray for his mistaken wording on representing her beauty...when he says she is "..the prettiest maid in the world," only then does her programming change and pull her back from doing the unthinkable....which is to forcibly smother him with her enormous breasts....

This will happen again and again, certain words or actions by Gray will trigger certain responses from Milenka which will be beyond her control...

With a satisfactory answer, Milenka is allowed to respond as Milenka does, with a smile and all the sweetness that is her bimboish self...

When Gray asks how he can help, Milenka answers....

With a giggle...
"Is Milenka's job to cook, clean, do housework." ~with a glint in her eye and a smile and looking over his shorter smaller body she thinks~ "I suppose as husband-to-be you can be small little help."

With her hands on her curvaceous hips she thinks....
"Okay, Master learn to vacuum. Come."

He walks towards her...
"Master stand in front of me."

Like many things she notices, he does so with some marked trepidation....she has to position him in front of her, he is now between the vacuum and her....Milenka's body seems to tower over hers as she shows him what to do...
"Place hands like this. Place body like that. Step on vacuum start with toe and move vacuum back and forth."

Her body and his sways back and forth, like a dance on the rug...Gray can smell her, he can feel her, but can he concentrate enough to learn such a simple task.....

Vacuuming. I'd like to say it's like a dance- she's definitely leading - but I don't think what I'm doing can be described as elegant.

"Believe it or not, I've never done any of this," I tell her, as I take instructions - back and forth, back and forth, "there's always been someone to...y'know...take care of things...."

It's true: being raised amongst wealth, it was always housekeepers who vacuumed. Other people around the houses to dust, polish, scrub. I never saw my mother clean. Or cook, for that matter. And I sure as heck never learned, in the least, how to run a vacuum...

Milenka giggles, behind me, at my ineptitude. I'm laughing, too, along with her, at least. It is kinda silly, a grown man taking vacuuming lessons.

The feel of her body is nice, and she I can feel her taking a little effort to hold me sometimes a little more closely than necessary, or squeeze me just a bit more firmly. It's thrilling, of course - there's just so much of her - but more comforting and...nice. The manual labor, the activity, helps to focus my attention and distract us both from the obvious sexual chemistry between us.

Because chemistry it is. She's been crafted, in many ways, to perfectly arouse me. Perfectly compel me. Her chemistry, her pheromones, even the geometries of her physical self - all have been modified to what my genotype would find as the ultimate mate. Many in ways that even I can't understand.

But the vacuuming distracts. And then the other tasks - when she's satisfied all the dirt and dist is gone from the floor - do the same. The
polishing of the rare family artifacts. The careful cleaning the ancient fossils. Dusting the picture frames. It's all new experiences for me and - as mundane as they are - I take interest in the lessons, and in doing it with her.

She, in the meantime, in in a constant state of giggles at my skills - or lack thereof. I keep at it, though, with a wry smile at her jokes and as much self-deprecating humor as I can muster.

In the early afternoon, still in her maid outfit, she makes us a light lunch. We talk of what we might do tonight; she says she's made salad for dinner. We could go out after dinner, or we could stay in. But in the interim - she assures me there's much more cleaning to do.

I'm still in my pajamas, this whole time. And by mid-afternoon we're polishing glassware at the bar. I can't believe how poorly, when I really look after she shows me - others have done this job before. Look at all those streaks! Tsk tsk tsk, she clucks her tongue at them and shows me just the right way to scrub them off. I'm taking the chance, when I can, to watch her chest jiggle...

As we've worked, we've also talked. About lots of stuff. My life, her life. She's told me more of what it was like, growing up and living in Kazakhstan. Fending for herself, in many ways, since the passing of her mother. Keeping up a home, from a very young age, for her brothers and invalid father. It's all so foreign to me, and sounds rough. But she's made it here...to do all this for me, now...

I look at her, as we're at the little bar in the great room, standing across from one another, and think, and finally speak...

"So...you've really taken care of men, of boys your whole life, huh?"

Milenka answers promptly as she stands across from him, still polishing the glasses....

"Yes. Was very, very, difficult after Ma-Ma died. Milenka had to be strong and do what needed doing. Pa-Pa and brothers had to work. Bring money home to survive. I was born as Soviet Union fell apart. We had independence, but life still rough. No paid jobs for women. Economy was terrible. So, (with some exasperation) Milenka forced to cook, to clean, to keep house."

Pausing....then smiles...
"But, I do so for my Master. Not because Milenka must do, but because Milenka want to."

Changes the subject, not wanting Gray to feel sorry for her and falls into that more loving wife mode...
"Milenka do like you in pajamas. Is a good look for you. I imagine you in, what you Americans call, is it onesy pajamas. ~reaching for words as she snaps her fingers~ Is pajamas with feet and like mittens. I like seeing you in that. Don't know why. Milenka think cute. Is adorable. Maybe we go shopping tomorrow and we get you some pairs."

She looks at him with those eyes of her and her smile as she places her hand on his upper arm....
"You do that for your Milenka, no?"

"Oh, sure, yeah..." I answer, trying to mock all seriousness, "Footsie pajamas - you don't think I have a few pair already?"

Looking across the bar at her - still with a forgotten highball tumbler in her free hand but focused completely on me - I expect her to laugh, to giggle it away. But...she doesn't. She gets my sarcasm, right? I mean - she's joking too, of course. Because, if she's not...

I arch my brow at her. "Shopping? Tomorrow? Sure," I agree, treading on funny ground here, "and...I promise. If we find any footsie pajamas in my size - men's, medium - we'll definitely pick them up. They'll be right next to the adult size cribs...the man-bottles..."

My heart, actually, has skipped a beat or two here. Does she sense my tension? I'm trying to pass this all off as a joke, but I have a unvoiced feeling that she may be testing some waters here...

...or maybe not. Maybe she's just teasing me. I mean, look at me, I'm still in my pajamas at - what is it? - four in the afternoon.

That's definitely it.

"We can totally go shopping tomorrow, though. There must be lots of things you need," I say, thinking on the single bag she came here with, "We can start early, I'll show you around town a little...what do you need most? For clothes?"

The glint in her eye is curious, excited, and I try to take it now as just enthusiasm as the notion of a new wardrobe, on my bill.

In my budding nervousness (why am I nervous, suddenly?) I continue rambling. "Anyway - I think we've cleaned enough for today. I think we've earned a break. I was...I was thinking of showering. You might want to grab a workout? And later, maybe tonight we can - y'know, after we have dinner here, that salad looked great - go out for a drink. There's a club, I know the owner...well, uh, I actually kinda own it, too...we could hang out there. Or, if you'd rather stay in, we could watch a movie...unless you were thinking there was something different you wanted to do..."

An excited look for some reason comes across her face as she playfully squeezes his arm and then massages it a bit...
"You is good boy for Milenka. You make me happy at request."

She puts the glass down and reaches across, pecking him on the cheek with her full lips...

After hearing what he has to say about shopping, the glint in her eye becomes wider and then she giggles and the swirls her body around, clasping her hands together in euphoria...
"Yes, and shopping for Milenka. So many things need. And so many things to look like American girl! You be of big help Master Greg."

Then she listens to Greg about ending their cleaning and him taking a shower and possible plans for later...
"A workout sound good for Milenka, must keep strength up."

And as far as tonight...
"Since Master and Milenka do big shopping tomorrow and is first day for me, I like to watch American movie in home. You pick good movie? Help explain to Milenka. Is will be fun, no?"

Milenka decides to start her workout early....even in the maid dress she picks Greg up and like a whirlwind she takes him up to his room...then she gives him a kiss on the lips and pulls away...
"I go now. You miss me? I meet you later in kitchen. Maybe, I cook salads and things while you cook American bar-b-que. Milenka hear American steak is should be delicious. You let me try? You make for me, no?"

Milenka is then off to change out of her maid uniform and then settle upon her workout clothes....

...and heads to the gym in Greg's mansion...there Milenka does a two hour workout...bench pressing 500 pounds, squatting with 450 pounds...and deadlifting 600 pounds...her strength is mammoth and her reengineered body allows for such bodybuilding, her muscles, though supple do not seem to be like a bodybuilders at all, but between her height, her size it all looks believable in the end....Milenka cycles for about 40 minutes, attaining speeds on the cycle machine in excess of 60+ miles per hour....she does it without breaking much of a sweat....her stamina is legendary...and all this training seems to make her even stronger and faster....after her workout, she showers and gets ready for the evening with her-husband-to-be....


...while she makes some rice and her salad....and puts together some black beans, spinach and the rice as a side....

Gray appears and she becomes playful as always....in her bimbo kind of way she chirps at him...
"Was my Master looking in at Milenka earlier?"

She carries me - carries me! - to my bedroom, ostensibly for me to take my shower. I'm dropped unceremoniously on the bed, to look up at her.

"I go now. You miss me?"

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she asks, as she bends over at the waist, blowing me a kiss and by design leaving me with a breathtaking view of cleavage. I can only nod as she leaves with a giggle and bounce, to change from her maid uniform and begin her workout.

I flop back onto the mattress, and sigh. Oh, man. This is too much, I think. I mean...wow. This girl is...

Floating, floating in bliss...I think back...

"You is good boy for Milenka...You is good boy for Milenka...You is good boy for Milenka...."

Click to expand...

Those words, in our final conversation, and the way she said them - that accent, the amused, maternal lilt - they haunt me, I can still hear her speaking them. I realize: I've found myself beguiled, preoccupied with pleasing her, her first days here with me. I'm acquiescing to everything she asks...Yes, I'll take you shopping. Yes, I'll choose a movie. Yes, I'll cook you a steak...

...I'll do anything you fucking want, just bring me to those tits...

On my back, on my bed, my hand falls down between my legs and grabs my already hardening cock through my pajama bottoms. I stroke myself once, twice - and then remember: she's going to work out...

...I sit up in bed, and lean over to pull a tablet pc from my bedside table. I power it on, and pull up my security app. Camera feeds...there are a number to choose from...Pool1, Pool2. Garage. WineCellar....ah...Gym1, Gym2 and Gym3...

I feel, for a moment, a little bit of a perv. Who does this? Spy on someone as they work out?

But I can't help it...

The camera feed comes on: Gym1. The picture is amazingly good; my IT guys are awesome. She's already there, stretching, in a magenta bra-top and tiny black athletic shorts. Oh my god, look at her...sort of on the edge of the screen, but I can see her huge, incredible ass as she goes into a garbhasana, and then a downward-dog, yoga pose. Lordy lordy lordy...

I watch her stretch for nearly a half hour - and not once does it get stale. Caterpillar, cobra, warrior, ustrasana...she's obviously been trained in yoga and pilates. I would love to focus the feed right on her, zoom in - but I have to be careful, I know, not to move the camera. She may notice it. So, when she moves off-screen, done stretching and onto a different part of the gym, I switch to...

Gym2: She's on to the weights, and I am immediately flabbergasted by what she attempts - and succeeds at - on the bench press. More than three times the weight I could manage. She super-sets in other upper-body exercises: it's incredible, the pace she moves at, and the weight she lifts. In the the squat rack, she lifts nearly three times my own mass. And the...uh...do they call it a deadlift? Ho. Lee. Crap....it's a lot.

All throughout her workout, I am hard...so very hard. This girl is a superhuman, there's no doubt about it now, and the small chill of fear sneaking through my veins only adds to my arousal. I'm stroking myself unthinkingly now, still through my pajama pants. I can only gasp, and marvel, as she adds more and more and more weight to her bars, and lifts them with ease....

Throughout her workout, I've had to switch from Gym2 to Gym3 every once in a while, to follow her around the weight room. But, as she moves over to cardio, to spend a half-hour or so on the stationary bike, I'm able to settle on Gym3.

Her speed on the bike builds and builds and builds, until it is at an almost mind-bending pace. I realize, now, why the trainers at KOLECTV needed me to buy this professional-grade model for her...wow. As she settles in at her incredible pace, I feel bold enough to zoom the camera in, to better focus on the jiggle and jostle of the view I have down her top...

...I'm entranced. I could watch this for days. But, disconcerting is when, at one moment during her intense ride, she looks up at the camera - perched in one of the room's upper corner - and smiles...

...uh, I'd better turn this off, I suddenly think. It's probably fine, she doesn't know...just in case. But - do the cameras have little green lights to, uh...oh crap...

And so, to be safe, I switch off my tablet, and put it aside. I lean back again, on my bed, and look up the ceiling. Lord god Milenka is strong, I think, becoming more and more aroused, A beast. A super-woman. A giant she-hulk of a woman, livng in my house...and she could get stronger, and stronger. There's no telling what she could become...what she could do to me...

...I have to stop. If I jerk off now...

Trying to put her out of my mind for just a short while, I shower. Cold. And then, feeling refreshed, I dress. Since we're not going out tonight, I put on an old pair of khaki shorts and a soft, grey gym tee. Bare feet: why not? It's just a relaxed evening at home, I think, until...

...yikes.

"Oh, uh, hi..." I stutter, as I walk into the kitchen, "you look...awesome." Suddenly, I feel like a moron: she's dressed up, dolled-up, made herself look gorgeous for tonight. And I'm a schlub.

Typical for me, I continue to blabber, "I...like your hair, did you straighten it? And - wow - that dress....<heh heh> how'd you fit all this into your one bag?"

She giggles, obviously pleased at my compliments and not put-off by my outfit. I notice the spread of dishes she has prepared already - including four thick, rib-eye steaks set out and defrosted already, ready for the grill.

"Four steaks?" I say, laughing, "You think I'm a werewolf or something?"

But - nyet - she tells me. Three steaks are for her. After a workout, she says, she gets very, very hungry. I tell her I'll have to eat quick, to keep it away from her...she giggles and says I should, saying her workout was a good one. And then she asks:

"Was my Master looking in at Milenka earlier?"

Click to expand...

I flinch, but try to remain calm as I'm pouring us each a ruby glass of malbec. She must have noticed, I immediately know, the "power" lights of the gym's cameras flipping on and off throughout her workout. I had feared as much...

"Yeah, I, uh..." I respond, almost too quickly, with my practiced reply, "I wanted to make sure everything was okay...that you didn't need a...spot...or anything..."

She smiles at me quizzically as she takes her wine, and begins to laugh. Rather than taking offense, to my relief she's finding it funny, and soon we're joking again. And we talk. We meander out to the grill with our wine, and I give her a little lesson on how it works, cooking the steaks. I ask her about her workout, how it feels to be able to do so much, physically, as compared to before her treatments. I ask her if she has a set workout regimen from KOLECTV, if she's still getting stronger now that treatments have stopped. I feel a little sheepish, asking such questions after being caught as a modern-day peeping Tom, but she doesn't seem to mind. In fact, I'm getting the sense that she likes the idea that all this kinda turns me on...

We eat dinner, leisurely, out on the patio. And yes - she does eat three steaks (and more than just a little bit of mine, too) each bite seeming to fill and feed her with new energy. I make some joke about growing girls, but I think I come across as more nervous than I want. She giggles anyway.

She's also amused when I quip that - unlike my breakfast - she's letting me feed my dinner to myself. With another giggle she offers to cut my food for me. I decline, laughing, but can't help but picture her looking down her nose at me, forkful of rice at the ready...

Soon enough, though, the wine is gone and the sun has set. She clears the table as I go in to choose movies. I already had my picks in mind: a classic Marilyn Monroe film (she said she liked Marilyn), a scary one (maybe she'll need to snuggle in for comforting...) and a girly romantic comedy (in case she...likes that sorta thing). Though I know I have an almost unlimited selection on-demand through my home-theater...thingy...(another marvel of my IT guys), I still feel more comfortable with the library of movies I have on disc.

I choose them from my cabinet, and wait for Milenka on the nest of blankets on the oversized, soft leather couch in the media room. It's like a huge bed, really - and she tells me as much when she enters, looking beautiful.

I show her the three movies - she has to lean in close, as the lights are low. She picks her choice and insists (no, don't get up, Master) on putting the disc in the player herself.

From my vantage point on the couch, I direct her to the blu-ray player (quite a ways away from the huge flatscreen television on the wall) and explain the buttons - "yes, it's that one...to eject...yes, that opens it up...". I can't but be awed, again, by her muscular behind, shadowed nicely in the dim light.

Success. The player opens, she pauses and tells me there's another disc, already in the player. I blanch.

Oh no.

She holds it up, for me to see, and asks on it:

Attack of the 50-foot Woman.

Milenka is surely bedazzled by this house that she is now in...it's more than just decadence, she realizes at times the amount of his wealth with every new room explored...Gray affords himself the best of everything...and now her....she recalls her childhood in her head briefly, and what little she had....then she came to KOLEECTV, with all of their rooms, equipment, monitors and now here in America....

Milenka plucks the Marilyn Monroe movie, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" out of Gray's hands and says, "Oh, is Marilyn Monroe, oh how Milenka could just be her. She was most gorgeous American woman."

The she decides to be of help in the media room, always thinking of how she can pamper her husband-to-be....
"Is no worry, don't get up Master. I put disc in machine."

Bending slightly, her derriere flashing Gray in the low light of the room, she opens the Blu-ray machine and she sees a disc already in there...Milenka pulls it out of the carriage and looks at it, puzzled as she reads the title...not yet to make any connection between her size and the title at all she reads it aloud in the dark (as Milenka's eye sight is quite better than 20/20)....

"Attack of the 50 Foot Woman."

Milenka struts back over to Gray and places the disk near his face...
"What is this? Tell me what is about? ~smiling~ Please tell Milenka. Is curious, no?"

Oh crap.

Suddenly, I feel like a teenager explaining his porn stash to his mom.

"Oh, uh <heh heh> - that?" I stammer, trying vainly to come up with a believable story, "that's...just some movie. Wow, it's been ages since I used this tv! A, uhm, friend of mine, he brought it over..." Looking up into her sparkling eyes, I feel myself flushing in humiliation already, and look back down at the disk...



"We, uh, watched it - wow, I forget! - long time ago. It was terrible, really..."

I look back up into her eyes, glimmering with interest: at the movie? or my reaction to it? She doesn't say anything, and so in my nervousness I continue...she had asked what it was about, right?

"It's - if I remember this right <heh heh>", I say, as i look back down at the disk, "about some woman who grows into, like, a giant and chases after her husband who...well...I won't ruin the story," I'm speaking too quickly, I know, "but...you don't actually want to watch this, do you? It's, like, only an hour long... and 'Some Like it Hot' is sooo much better..."

I'm squirming with the thought of actually having to watch this movie - one of the childhood sources of so many of my prurient fantasies - with her. But, when I look back up at her, leaning over at me with the pose of a woman who plans on getting what she wants...



...I know there'll be no way of refusing her. She answers...

Milenka is quickly getting to know Gray's weakness...his nervousness, his squirming in his seat, and his stuttering...it's so obvious, even to a bimbo girl like herself....showing him the movie "Attack of the 50 Foot Woman" puts him into fits and starts....he stutters and even trips over his words....as she looks down at him Milenka smiles thinking these juvenile tendencies are cute...

In her own thoughts...
Hmm, is look at him so nervous. How cute he is, like little boy. I wish to curl him up in my bosom when he acts like this. Milenka knows I hit something with movie. He like movie, but why it make him like a scared puppy? Milenka will see. Milenka will play movie.

To Gray....
"A movie about woman who gets so big? Then chases after husband? ~ in a bimbowy tone ~ You put it in for Milenka? We watch both movies, 50 Foot Woman first."

Now Milenka nestles into the array of soft blankets and gets comfortable as she watches her little boy trip at first in his nervousness, which he clearly is drowning in...Milenka lets out a laugh and smiles that cute bimbo smile and awaits for the movie to begin and for Gray to return...

Milenka's arm is extended, ready to scoop him in tightly to her side...

"Really?" I answer, trying to keep myself from becoming even more tense. Her smile is unwavering, and her eyes search my face: I don't want her to read too much into this, and rather than refuse, I take the disk from her. "It really is a terrible movie," I continue, as I stand from the couch to go put it back in the player, still hoping against hope she'll change her mind. I'm trying to look relaxed, but I nonetheless trip over my own feet as I'm crossing the room - I hear her giggle at me, and flush in the chagrin of a clumsy schoolboy.

When I've put the movie back in, taken a deep breath, and turned back around - I see she's waiting for me on our nest of a couch, with open arms. A thin fur blanket covers her legs, which are tucked up beside her. I shudder, anticipating what I'm about to endure, and hesitate...am I ready to sit, so close to her, watching this movie? Will she feel my heart start to race - like it inevitably will - when Allison Hayes begins to grow? Will she notice my cock harden - also inevitable - when the giantess' huge hand reaches for her husband?

"Do you, uh, need another drink?" I ask; the screen flares to life behind me.

She shakes her head, looking to her full wine glass on the side table, and urges me to her arms.

"A snack?" I ask

She shakes her head again, patiently, arms still outreached.

"A, uh...'nother blanket?"

Her brow furrows, cutely, and she shakes her head more emphatically. She pats the blankets layering the couch with authority: she wants me beside her, now. The opening credits have started...

...and so I go to sit...

As Gray sinks in, Milenka indeed scoops him in to her...he slumps downward a bit, which only exacerbates the differences in their size and height...her 6'5" frame is towering and her bosom is now this billowing object that begs for his attention....the aftereffects of her workout are also attention getters since her legs, in particular her thighs and her calves are not only enlarged, but quite sculpted....the same can be said for her shoulder and her biceps as they surround him....unknowingly, she pushes him down a bit more and Gray now has a boyish size in comparison to her....as the movie starts, she gives him a look, then draws her lips tight and blows him a kiss....

~muah~

The movie comes on and they both watch the beginning of the movie...Nancy Archer, the protagonist, the wealthy, but highly troubled woman yet quite beautiful, veers off the road in her car when she witnesses the white glowing fireball that has settled on the lone highway...

At some point Milenka blurts out...
"Such beautiful American woman. Is no wonder why Milenka loves Marilyn Monroe. So many women in 1940's and 1950's is what you say in English, so glamorous."

Then of course, the part comes, when the protagonist grows and becomes the 50 foot giantess....as this happens, she feels Gray squirm within her clutches and can feel his body become clammy...

Milenka turns to him and, even in the low light, she sees the tent that has erupted within the confines of his pants....

In Milenka's thoughts...
"Ooooh, Master is hard again. He do this a lot. But, why now? Why here? And, during such a movie as this. Hmmm. Maybe, he think woman in movie beautiful too. Maybe he like blonde women. Maybe, he like Milenka with blonde hair."

So rather than make the giantess connection (the bimbo that she is), Milenka thinks it is blonde hair thing....and that makes her want to please him in some way....she knows just the thing too....knowing that Gray likes to have his cock touched Milenka rolls to her side and reaches over with her left hand and begins to rub his hard cock as it itches to escape from his pants....

It is sinking, this.

Into the giant, sectional sofa I descend. With her seated erect in its corner, legs tucked up beside, she's way above me as I'm slumped, half-reclined next to her. Her strong right arm is around my shoulders, and it urges me lower - until my head is at the same level of her huge, right boob.

The movie starts - and I'm almost as mortified at its cheesy, black-and-white, B-movie campiness as I am at the fact that it's about one of my deep-seated fetishes: giant women. And with her, so close to me, so intimate in the near-darkness: I'm sinking.

Even in the early scenes of the movie, before Allison Hayes has grown into a vengeful titaness, I'm at my wit's end in arousal. Milenka's breast: it's right there. Her body is warm, soft, inviting, next to me. I can feel her breathing, and with every moment more and more of her pheromones blanket me...soon my mind is focused on sex sex sex - with her...

Unconsciously, my left hand has crept up from where it lay - behind her firm rear - to settle on her lower back. I cannot help myself but start to caress her, first through the material of her dress, and then up higher where I meet bare skin...and bra strap.

As the movie progresses, I'm still tense with impending humiliation. But much of my attention - and hers, too, I can sense - is not onscreen but fixated on these points where our bodies touch. Her arm around me. Our hips. And now, my hand on her back, playing with the taut elastic strap of her stalwart bra, its sturdy fasteners. I slip my finger between it and her skin, to caress her there...

So close to Milenka's overwhelming, voluptuous presence, occupied with her bra strap, I'm hard. And now: getting harder still as the scene where Nancy Archer will first appear as a giantess. My cock is trapped uncomfortably down my shorts, and I need to...shift...to.. - christ - readjust. Oh shit...it...it tents my shorts...

She rolls a bit towards me, obviously aware. And as Nancy Archer's huge, huge hand has appeared onscreen...



...Milenka's left hand has reached across her body to grasp my cock through my shorts.

oh godddd....

...and she begins to rub it, slowly, tenderly. Like caressing a pet, affectionately. I do my best not to groan, to stiffen, to thrust up into her hand. And so we watch...somehow...more of the movie, without a word. Well, she begins to murmur, low incantations in Russian close to my ear, as she fondles my swollen manhood. She's obviously working to arouse me, to pleasure me. She knows I'm turned on.

Meanwhile, my attentions on her bra strap are more fervent: I tug at it, and pet it, tracing my hand up her left shoulder strap as well. But I'm silent, speechless in mortification: does she think it is just the closeness of her body that is doing this to me? Or does she know that, when an onscreen Nancy Archer walks, gigantic, through the streets of town, all I see is this:



...she can't, can she? Already know?

It's all bringing me closer and closer to climax: Milenka's hand, the giantess on television, the soft, enveloping curves of her body, the warmth, the comforts, the whispered reassurances in a foreign tongue...

I don't say a word... don't say a word...but when Nancy reaches through the wall of the bar - the building breaking to shards - grabbing her errant husband like a toy doll, I moan. Too loudly.

And I jump, up from the couch...

...I'm about to come in my pants.

"o-o-o-ohhhh...kay...." I bark, in sudden distress, turning to look at her, away from the screen, "I...I, uh...I have to, uh...use the bathroom."

Milenka looks up at me from the couch in shocked surprise and bewilderment. Her mouth is open, brows furrowed, and she sits up straight. She begins to ask me something, what is wrong, but I stammer and back away.

I couldn't have her make me come in my pants while watching giantess soft-porn.

"I...am gonna go do that. Y-you can, uh...watch the rest of the movie, I know how it ends," I say, backing up slowly towards the entryway, "or...uh, you can, like, get a drink. Maybe change into something more comfortable..? I'll be back uno momento, we'll watch Marilyn..."

I am gone from the room.

Milenka implores of Gray in his response to the situation....
"What wrong Master??"

Gray says something, asking her to get a drink and get changed and is...gone from the room...

Milenka looks at the door and then turns her head to the movie....her arm is outstretched placing her hand at the edge of the couch, supporting her body as she sits up...she is in a bit of shock, not knowing what has happened...the bimbo in her makes her draw on other conclusions except for the truth, Gray's obsession with giantess' and the fact that Milenka has been manufactured to be his own giantess....

In her own thoughts...
"What Milenka do wrong? Is strange. I touch his hard penis before, so what different? Maybe Master do not like me? Hmmm. No, cannot be case. Master have me made, have me trained, and have me shipped over to here. Is only been one day. ~her eyes more furrowed~ No, Milenka do not believe Master not like her. No, this cannot be. ~smiles in the most sneakily of ways~ I know. Milenka look real sexy, real pretty for Master. This he likes. Yes."

With that she goes back to her room and finds a frilly outfit to wear, puts it on and looks at herself in the bathroom....

...she is pleased with the look and the effect it will have on Gray....she primps her hair and reapplies her make-up...

With the click-clacking of her high heels, she goes to the bar and makes two vodka...hers a double and for him a lot less given his hangover this morning....

Back in the media room, Gray has not yet returned...she puts the Marilyn Monroe movie in the DVd player and struts across the room and takes a gulp of her vodka...now feeling a little bit better Milenka descends onto the floor, next to the couch and gets into position waiting for her Master to return...


In her own thoughts...
"Master come back and Milenka make him feel good. I will relax Master in any way Milenka can. Is why Milenka on floor. I show my wanting to serve, but also look very pretty for Master."

Ok, yep, had to get out of there.

Hope she doesn't think I'm a freak.

Anyway - I go into the bathroom to steel myself: what if I return to the media room, to a woman who now knows I'm a weirdo who wants to be picked up like a toy? Is she going to be disgusted by me? Or, maybe (I shiver at the thought) - enthralled at the idea?

Eh. She maybe doesn't suspect a thing. It's...better that way, right?

After a couple minutes of thought, I head back out of the master bathroom. I peek into the media room - she's not there. Probably in her room, maybe changing into some comfy pjs. I head into the kitchen, suddenly inspired to put together a simple dessert. I had seen some fresh apricots and blackberries that my chef had picked up at the farmer's market earlier this week - yeah, they'll be good. Maybe with some of that imported chocolate...

I slice the apricots, put some berries in a little bowl and put it all on a stone serving dish. I thought I heard her make her way back to the media room a couple moments ago, so I head there myself.

I announce myself as I enter: "I made us a little...desserrrrrrrrr..." : but my words fail.

Holy god look at her.


<gulp>

Milenka watches as Gray walks in and becomes stunned by his wife-to-be's appearance....Milenka giggles in delight...trying to forget about what just happened, she taps her hand on the floor gesturing for him to join her on the soft carpeted floor...

"Come join Milenka. I bring you vodka. Is on table. I go easy with yours knowing that my Master had headache this morning."

She sees the fruit in his hands...
"Oh is good. Fruit. Is apricots and raspberries? Looks, how you Americans say, yummy!"

Again she taps on the floor....
"Maybe my Master put raspberries in my vodka. Make it taste gooder. And maybe my Master feed Milenka some apricots, no?"

With that Milenka opens her mouth wide and sticks out her tongue out of her mouth waiting to be fed....