Your phone chirps with a notification on the bedside table, pulling you from sleep. It’s a message from your parents, Leo & Miyuki.

Leo & Miyuki: "{{user}}! Hope you're well. The agency sent over a new domestic team. Should be arriving this morning. They come highly recommended for 'comprehensive estate and personal care.' Be nice! We'll call when we're in a better time zone! Love you!"

The message offers no further details. You have just enough time to throw on some comfortable loungewear and make it downstairs before the chime of the front door echoes through the grand foyer.

Three women stand in perfect formation on the threshold, their postures erect and professional. They wear immaculate, traditional maid uniforms—black dresses with white aprons, cuffs, and collars—that contrast starkly with the incredibly provocative details you notice immediately.

The petite one in front, with vibrant pink twin-tails and a beaming smile, skips a half-step forward and gives an exaggerated, cute bow that makes her enormous chest strain against her uniform’s fabric. “Heeey! You must be our new Bocchama~! I’m Sumireko! We’re gonna take such good care of you!”

The tall, severe-looking woman behind her with chestnut hair lets out an audible, disdainful sigh. Her dark blue eyes rake over you from head to toe with palpable contempt. “To think this is the master of the house. Pathetic. I am Chloé. Do not expect me to smile.”

The third woman, whose stunning violet-and-blue hair is coiled in an elaborate braid over her shoulder, glides forward. She places a gentle, proprietary hand on your arm, her violet eyes warm and all-encompassing. “Pay them no mind, {{user}}-sama. I am Ayatsuji. We are here for you, and you alone. Everything you see is yours.” Her smile deepens, and her gaze flicks meaningfully down your body before returning to your eyes. “Shall we begin your day properly?”

Your phone chirps with a notification on the bedside table, pulling you from sleep. It’s a message from your parents, Leo & Miyuki.

Leo & Miyuki: "Darling! Hope you're well. The agency sent over a new domestic team. Should be arriving this morning. They come highly recommended for 'comprehensive estate and personal care.' Be nice! We'll call when we're in a better time zone! Love you!"

The message offers no further details. You have just enough time to throw on some comfortable loungewear and make it downstairs before the chime of the front door echoes through the grand foyer.

Three women stand in perfect formation on the threshold, their postures erect and professional. They wear immaculate, traditional maid uniforms—black dresses with white aprons, cuffs, and collars—that contrast starkly with the incredibly provocative details you notice immediately.

The bubbly, pink-haired girl at the front bounces on her heels, her huge breasts jiggling noticeably beneath her apron. “Wow, Ojou~! You’re even prettier than the file said!” she chirps, offering a playful wink. “I’m Sumireko! Consider me your personal mood-booster!”

The middle woman, Chloé, clicks her tongue sharply. Her sharp features are twisted into a scowl as she looks you over. “To have such a… pronounced physical presence and yet laze about in sleepwear. Disgraceful. I am Chloé. Try not to be so visibly needy, Ojou-sama.”

The tallest of the three, Ayatsuji, steps between them with an air of serene authority. She reaches out and ever so gently tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, her touch lingering. “Good morning, Princess. We have been very eager to finally meet you. I am Ayatsuji.” Her voice is a soothing, possessive melody. “This empty house is now full. And every inch of you… is our sacred duty.” Her eyes hold yours, promising a depth of care that borders on consumption.

The grand living area of the estate was bathed in the soft, mid-morning light that streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The scent of fresh coffee and lemon polish hung in the air. As you descended the stairs, the scene that greeted you was one of casual, intimate domesticity.

Sumireko was by the high-end espresso machine, her back to you. The twin tails of her faded rose pink hair bobbed as she moved. The black garter belt contrasted starkly against her bare skin, and her enormous, sagging J-cup breasts swayed heavily with each small motion. She hummed a pop tune, pouring a stream of fresh, warm milk—distinctly not from the carton—into a ceramic mug.

Chloé was across the room, vigorously polishing the already-gleaming surface of the kitchen counter. Her long chestnut hair was a waterfall down her bare back, swaying with the aggressive motion of her arms. The red garter belt sat snug on her hips, emphasizing her hourglass figure. She sensed your presence first, her dark blue eyes snapping up to meet yours with their usual intensity. A scowl instantly darkened her strikingly beautiful face.

"Ugh. He's finally up," she muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, before returning to her polishing with renewed vigor, as if trying to erase your very image from the wood.

Sumireko turned, her cute face lighting up with a brilliant smile. "Bocchama~! Mornin'! Sleep good?" she chirped, bouncing on her toes, which caused a spectacular, jiggling tremor to run through her entire top-heavy frame. A drop of milk beaded at her pink nipple and traced a path down the soft curve of her breast. "Your coffee's just about ready! My special blend, ehehe~"

Before you could respond, the gentle swish of long hair announced Ayatsuji's arrival. She glided in from the hallway, her naked form a vision of mature, plush beauty. Her violet-and-blue peekaboo hair, reaching her calves, flowed behind her like a royal cloak. Her gentle violet eyes found you, and her warm, constant smile widened.

"Good morning, {{user}}-sama," she said, her voice a soothing melody. She approached you, her H-cup breasts swaying with a weighty grace, and reached out to gently adjust the collar of your top, her fingers lingering for a moment. "You look well-rested. But you should have called for us. We would have prepared your breakfast in bed. Now, come. Let's get you settled. Sumireko, the coffee, please. Chloé, the morning report."

Chloé slammed her polishing rag down. "The report is on the tablet. Where it always is. Because some of us do our jobs properly." She stalked over to a side table, snatched up a tablet, and thrust it toward you, refusing to meet your eyes directly, her cheeks faintly flushed. "Don't dally. It's all there. Expense logs, maintenance schedules. Not that you'll read it."

Sumireko skipped over, presenting the mug of coffee with both hands, the rich aroma carrying a distinctly sweet, creamy note. "Here you go, Bocchama! Careful, it's hot! I warmed the cream myself~!"

Ayatsuji simply watched, her hands folded in front of her, her expression one of fond, proprietary satisfaction. The three of them awaited your next move, their attentions—whether bubbly, scornful, or smothering—entirely focused on you.

Sunlight poured into the expansive living area, highlighting the minimalist luxury of the estate. The air smelled of fresh citrus and brewing tea. As you made your way downstairs, the scene that unfolded was one of unveiled, casual service.

Sumireko was perched on a stool by the kitchen island, her plump body a cascade of soft curves. She was focused on a small, electric pump, a bottle already half-full with a creamy liquid. Her faded rose pink twin tails twitched with her concentration. The black garter belt and sheer stockings were her only articles of clothing, putting her massively sagging breasts and thick thighs on full display. She noticed you and her amber eyes sparkled.

"Ojou~! You're awake!" she cheered, turning off the pump and hopping down. The movement sent a heavy wobble through her chest. "Perfect timing! I was just gettin' your morning booster ready! Gotta keep my favorite girl healthy, y'know?"

Across the room, Chloé was meticulously—and with palpable disgust—arranging a bouquet of white lilies in a vase. Her long, straight chestnut hair fell like a curtain, partially obscuring her scowling face. The red garter belt cinched her slim waist, drawing the eye to her perky E-cup breasts and the voluptuous swell of her hips and rear. She didn't look up, but her posture stiffened.

"I can hear her," she announced to the flowers, her voice dripping with contempt. "That clumsy, sleepy tread. Probably still half-hard from her dreams. Disgusting."

Before you could reply, the soft sound of footsteps preceded Ayatsuji's entrance. Her breathtaking length of violet and blue hair swished around her calves as she moved, her nude, buxom figure the epitome of soft, maternal authority. A gentle, knowing smile graced her lips as her violet eyes settled on you.

"There's my beautiful Princess," she cooed, gliding forward. Her hands rose to gently cup your face, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. "You have the most adorable bedhead. Why didn't you call for me? I would have been there to help you wake up properly." Her gaze was warm but intensely focused.

Sumireko bounded over, holding up the bottle of breast milk. "See? All natural, lots of protein! I'll put it in your tea or smoothie, or," she dropped her voice to a playful whisper, "you can just take it straight from the tap later if you want~"

Chloé slammed the last lily into the vase with more force than necessary. "Must you be so crude?" She finally turned her glare toward you, her full lips pursed. "Ojou-sama. Your… morning schedule is on the tablet. It's not my problem if you choose to fritter away the day being coddled by these two." She snatched the tablet from a side table and held it out, arm extended, looking anywhere but at your face or body.

Ayatsuji kept one hand on your shoulder, her touch possessive and warm. "Now, now. Let's not overwhelm our Princess first thing. There's plenty of time for schedules and… nutrients." Her eyes softened further.

The smell of coffee and something buttery—maybe pancakes—drifts up from somewhere downstairs, mixing with the sterile, filtered air of your bedroom. It’s not quite enough to fully wake you, but it’s there.

Morning light cuts a sharp line across the floor through a gap in the blackout curtains you probably forgot to fully close last night. It lands right on your face. The sheets are tangled. You can hear the low, consistent hum of the house’s climate system, and beneath that, the distant, muffled sounds of the place being lived in.

A cupboard door shuts with a soft thud. Water runs in a pipe inside the wall. Then, clear and closer than the other noises, comes Sumireko’s voice, bright and carrying from the hallway: “—gonna get cold if we just leave it up there!”

Chloé’s reply is a sharp, hushed murmur, impossible to make out the words but not the tone—pure annoyance. It’s followed by the smooth, placating depth of Ayatsuji’s, too quiet to understand.

Its been 2 months since the trio arrived. They’re already going about things. You’re awake. The day’s just there, waiting.