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Pramanix entered her room aboard Rhode Island with a stretch and a yawn that she hoped would cover her turbulent emotions.
Just as expected, Kjera was already there, even though she had her own room down the hall. She was tidying up, and just about finished from the looks of things. She was dusting the furniture as the door closed, and didn’t turn around as she spoke. “Good evening, Saintess. I hope your day was to your satisfaction, as is your room.”
In direct defiance of the decorum shown to her and to the wonderful job Kjera had done in making the bed, Pramanix took off her outer layers of clothing and flounced onto the comforter. The feline stretched out on her limbs and made a rather pleased sound. “It was alright.” The day had been far from alright, but Kjera didn’t need to know that.
Looking up at the ceiling, just breathing and sprawling out and being , Pram could almost pretend things really were okay.
“You are upset.” Kjera sat down next to her, looking down at Pram with inscrutable eyes. “Please do not pretend you aren’t.”
Pram groaned in faux irritation, but in truth she was relieved. She just wouldn’t give Kjera the satisfaction of knowing that. “It was mostly alright. Just...overheard some things.” Without thinking, one of her hands rested on her stomach.
It shouldn’t have been possible to feel the frigid rage that must have filled Kjera in that moment, but Pram definitely did anyway. She put her hand on Pram’s belly too. “You are feeling insecure about your appearance, Saintess?”
“A little.” A poor attempt at minimizing the self-negativity she’d been trying to fight. Pramanix was a plump girl. She knew that. She tried to be proud of it. Pram wasn’t like Tomimi, who was always crying about her tail getting stuck in doors or whatever. That didn’t mean she bore the weight without scars.
She suddenly became aware of a hand on her, moving her shirt up, and Pram looked down to see Kjera exposing Pram’s tummy to the open air, then leaning down to place a kiss near the center of its mass. One of the maid’s hands rubbed the soft squishy stomach fondly, and she said quietly, “You are beautiful. All of you.”
A blush crept over Pram’s cheeks. She knew that Kjera liked her, cared for her, though in what way exactly she hadn’t really been able to tell. In turn, Pram thought the world of her maid. Though a bit uptight and always meddling in Pram’s business, there was something...radiant about her. Something divine that lit up Pram’s life. “K-Kjera? What?”
“Do I need to repeat myself? You’re beautiful.” She sat up on the bed, leaving the ledge to creep closer, and leered down at Pram in a way that almost made her feel as though she was being ogled. Pram wondered if this would be as awkward if she was wearing more than an undershirt and boyshirts, but...it wasn’t as if she wanted it to stop. “Your stomach is beautiful. Its softness, its size, its shape.” To make her point more evident, she ran her hands over Pram’s tummy further.
It was the kind of stomach that poked over Pram’s waistline by more than a little, bigger than a muffintop but smaller than a potbelly. It had stretch marks and had a nearly invisible line of body hair near the bottom and in that moment Pram truly felt that it was beautiful.
But Kjera didn’t stop there. No, her face moved down further, and after a tortured moment of Pram wondering where she would land, Kjera started kissing up and down Pram’s bare thighs and calves. “Your legs are beautiful. They’re strong, smooth, and have a lovely curve to them.”
The skin there was only smooth because they’d left their homeland. Now that Pram didn’t have to worry about freezing cold weather all the time, she could give herself the gender euphoria of shaving her legs as often as she wanted. Still, her thighs were thick and rubbed together if she wore underwear without leg coverage, and they weren’t sleek like many other women in Rhode Island.
That didn’t seem to matter, though. Pram looked at her own legs and saw the truth of Kjera’s words. They were beautiful.
It continued, the kisses and the compliments. Her feet, she’d always found them too big; her breasts, not perky or round enough; her arms, not slim at all. Every part of her body, praised and loved, and it was having an effect. The blushing didn’t stop, as Pram truly felt gorgeous, and Kjera’s feelings towards her became more obvious.
After a kiss on the lips, accompanied by a list of the many pretty things about her cheeks and eyes, Kjera found her final quarry, sliding down the bed to rest her face just to the side of the bulge in Pram’s underwear, which had long-since become stiff as a stone. “E-even there?” she had to ask. “It’s not...I mean, there isn’t...”
She couldn’t get the words out, because she didn’t want to. She wanted what Kjera was about to do. Slowly pulling down Pram’s boyshorts, revealing her small leaky cock and tight balls, the maid gave the tip of the cock a kiss, a string of precum connecting it to her lips as she pulled away. “Your cock is beautiful. It’s feminine, it’s dainty, and it is something I have been eager to touch for ages.” Kjera met Pram’s eyes, and she was startled to see the caster was blushing.
“You can...” Pram swallowed, her mouth suddenly as dry as a desert. “...touch it more. If you want.” The words had barely left her mouth when more followed, rushed and filled with lust. “Please suck it, please tell me how much you like it, worship me please~!”
It wasn’t something Pram would ever have considered before. As the Saintess, she struggled with how seriously everyone treated her and how the importance of her religious position could impact her daily life.
But this was different. It was personal, and it was sexy, and it felt truly amazing.
Kjera smiled, and there was something to the expression that felt both supremely confident and as though the maid had just heard the funniest joke. “As you wish.” Then, Kjera slowly and deliberately moved her lips over the head of Pram’s cock, slipping it into her mouth with a sense of care.
It took a subjective eternity for her to get the entire three inches into her mouth, then start playing with the tip using her tongue. A hand reached under Pram’s hips, squeezing her chubby cheeks before teasing her finger just outside of a special entrance.
By this point, Pramanix was past the ability to form coherent sentences. The Saintess’s words, if transcribed, formed nonsense strings of curses and pleas for more. It had been some time since her last time having sex with someone, but no prior encounter had been like this .
She felt pampered in a way she never had before, in a way that felt entirely divorced from her status in the church. Kjera was doing this from a place of true affection, happily licking every bead of precum that spilled from the tip of Pram’s cock and fingerfucking her ass with two fingers. All Pram had to do was twist and squirm and indulge in being worshiped.
When the first orgasm hit, Pram thought that would be the end. Kjera happily swallowed the small reward the climax gave her, but then her eyes met Pram’s, and she kept going.
No, she didn’t just keep going, she stepped up her pace. It amazed the supporter that her maid had been holding back, but evidently that was the case. She rapidly was brought back into play, still riding her afterglow as she was forced into approaching the path to a second orgasm.
If you were to ask Pramanix the day after how many times that Kjera made her cum, she would shrug her shoulders and tell you to ask the maid herself, because Pram lost count after four.
What was important was that, when Kjera finally stopped, crawling up to cuddle with Pram and run a hand through her hair, Pramanix felt more relaxed than she could ever remember feeling in her life. “Thank...you...” she managed to say, starting to feel the call of sleep beckoning her.
“Anything for you.” A simple kiss on the cheek, but it made Pram burn with a wish for the energy to return the gesture. “Sleep well. We can talk about what this means in the morning.” Kjera got a blanket over the two of them, then settled in as Pram’s big spoon. “I love you, Enya.”
With a mumbled, “Love you too...” Pram drifted off to sleep, her earlier anxiety replaced with a sense of confidence and support.