Chapter 4 - sunday service

The rest of the week passed quickly, each day a flurry of food for Catherine and Delia. Catherine wondered at the ease with which she was able to coax Delia into overeating each mealtime, and made sure that between meals she moved about as little as possible. They would spend hours sitting in the study or relaxing in the garden, and oftentimes Delia's full stomach would cause her to doze until the next meal was ready and the cycle began again.

On Sunday morning, as Delia carefully dressed her, Catherine had an idea. "Delia, I'd like you to accompany me to the church today."

"Oh- of course Miss Catherine," Delia said nervously. Her father had often read to her from an old dusty Bible, but she'd never been to a proper church before.

"Of course, you'll need something more than that dress you have on," Catherine told her. "I'll go and find something that would suit you."

She left to her closet and returned a few minutes later with a fancy blue dress with white embroidery around the hems. Catherine had worn it on her fourteenth birthday. "There. This should fit you well. No need to leave - I'll help you get into it."

Delia blushed, obediently stripping down to her underclothes. Despite her familiarity with her mistress' frame, baring her body to Catherine's gaze felt somehow wrong. Perhaps it was the way Catherine was looking at her that made her so uncomfortable...

For indeed, Catherine was drinking in the sight of her young maid. Her hardly-hidden lust was easily seen in the sparkle of her sharp blue eyes and the way she bit her lip as she scanned Delia's body. Now she could see clearly the product of all the food she had so lovingly stuffed into her dressing-maid's reluctant stomach. Her bony hips had disappeared, buried under small pads of fat which widened each side by a half-inch. Her thighs and rear seemed softer, coated with a thin layer of flab that coated muscle and bone, giving her a smooth, plush look. Her breasts were still small, but had almost certainly added a similar layer as they pushed out against their constraints. Her middle was perhaps the greatest beneficiary. Her tummy now curved gently outwards into a soft hill, with her belly button as the peak, just large enough to bulge half an inch over the waistband of her cotton panties. She certainly couldn't be considered chubby yet, with her frame remaining altogether slender, but it was a definite and drastic change over her skinny form when she'd arrived just two weeks ago.

Her examination complete, Catherine began helping Delia into the dress. She gently brushed her fingers down Delia's sides as she slid the garment over her shoulders. Down her digits went, grazing gently over her marble skin, feeling the thin layer of flab they had placed upon her dimple softly under their touch. Delia felt an unbidden shiver run down her spine as the fingers reached her hips, catching slightly on the new folds of flesh that had accumulated there. Catherine's hands hesitated briefly at the elastic of her panties, as if considering something brash - but quickly continued on, tickling the outsides of Delia's softer thighs as they pulled the fabric lower.

Suddenly, progress stopped just below Delia's knees. Catherine gave the dress a tug. "Oh dear," she said, a hot flash running through her as she realized the problem, "it seems to be caught..."

Straightening out, Catherine saw that the bodice of the dress, designed for a girl of waifish proportions, was plastered tight against Delia's new curves, hampering the further movement of the dress. Catherine smirked, poking the maid's bulging middle, manicured nail sinking into her tender belly.

"Here's the problem," she said carefully, trying not to let her heat show. "If you could just... suck your breath in a little... yes, there we go."

With a final tug, the dress slid into place. Delia was blushing heavily as she let out her breath, her middle once again forming a small bulge in the tight dress.

"How does it feel?"

"F... fine..." Delia stuttered. "Maybe... maybe a little tight.'

"Can you breathe?"

Delia sucked in a careful breath, the dress' neckline sliding down slightly to reveal the curve of her breasts as her chest inflated.

"Yes."

"Good. You look marvelous, by the way. It generally isn't proper for a servant to look as good as her master, but I must make an exception for you." Catherine gave Delia a genuine smile as the younger girl blushed still further. The golden-haired heiress felt the need to be kind to the girl to attone for the tainted pleasure she'd took from dressing her innocent maid. It soothed her conscious, if only slightly.

The church was humble, as churches go, but Delia was awed all the same. She hung on every word as the preacher talked about Moses and the land of milk and honey, thinking to herself that the New World could be none other than that fabled land.

Afterwards, she talked excitedly at Catherine about the service and the people and the marvelous stained glass windows. Catherine nodded, her pale face a little flushed. To be honest, she could not remember quite what the sermon had been about. All she could think about was having a bath drawn as soon as she arrived home.



Authors Note: Sorry about the huge wait. Finals happened, etc. etc. Here's a short chapter just to show that I'm still here! Tell me what you think in the comments below!