It starts well

As much as I'd like to walk in on Riya and catch her changing, I accept that I have to be patient. That doesn't mean I don't sit in my bed that night thinking about my new house servant. Seeing her slender body dripping from the shower has more of an impact on me than I thought it would. Even with my warning I know it might be too soon to barge into the bathroom and catch her under the stream of steaming water, so I turn my attention to some on-line shopping instead. It doesn't take very long to find exactly what I'm looking for.

Turns out, that even in your own house, it is illegal to place a spy-cam in a bedroom or bathroom where a normal person has a reasonable expectation of privacy. I don't give a shit. These are of course the very two places where the cameras I select are going to go, and I happily pay the extra charge to have these at my doorstep tomorrow.

For less than $100 I was able to buy two highly recommended miniature spy cams. These cameras connect through wi-fi directly to my laptop and had good reviews for both the quality of their night vision and the motion detection feature so anytime Riya enters these rooms I should be able to check her out, even if the lights are off.

Riya was able to make a decent breakfast of oatmeal and neat slices of strawberries and melon for breakfast the next morning. Instead of the coffee that I usually have there is a pot of very strong tea. The tea is actually a pleasant change, as is not having to make my own breakfast. As I eat, I consider the pretty co-ed waiting attentively near the range. She looks as cute in her outfit today as she did when I first saw her yesterday. A typical Western style blouse and jeans; like Alison, Riya seems to favor shirts that are just short enough to show a tempting strip of skin just above where the jeans are buttoned.

She could easily pass for any of Wesleyan's many American coeds, and I wonder if the young men in her classes want to fuck her as much as I do. I doubt it. As Riya refills my teacup, I can't help wondering how long it will take before I have a chance to have her gasping on the couch with me with her blouse pulled open and those tight jeans pushed down to her knees.

“This meal was much better, Riya.” I motion to the empty bowl in front of me. “You might just work out after all.” As if her cooking skills had anything to do with why I wanted her to stay on.

“Thank-you, Sir.” Her voice is low, but I'm pretty sure I hear pride in her soft accent.

“Make sure you eat something before your classes.” I tell her as I push away from the table, “You could use some meat on that skinny frame.” She nods nervously, clearly not comfortable with hearing a man comment on her physical appearance like this. As she finishes cleaning up the kitchen, I learn that she has an optics class after lunch, so she won't be back until after two.

“Is that all right, Sir?” She asks suddenly nervous again, “I'll get my chores done, I promise.” Actually, that works out well for me; it will give me time to set up the mini-cams in her room, but I pretend to look concerned.

“You'd better, Riya,” I warn her sternly, “I'd hate to have to punish you again ...”

“Yes Sir, I will Sir.”

“That reminds me, Riya.” I tell her just before she reaches the door, “Those Western style clothes are fine for your classes, but when you are working here as a servant, I'd like you to wear your traditional clothing.” The statement is phrased as a polite request, but both Riya and I know that it is nothing less than a command from her new master.