Quartz

Hard work was not something to which she was unaccustomed, in truth it was not something which she’d ever thought she’d escape considering her birth station as a mere peasant of the Elven Empire; or at least that was what the elf who’d been named Quartz thought of her lot in life. The truth of the matter simply was that she’d been born a menial, and her embarrassingly muscular body marked her as such twice over. She’d simply known her whole life would be a trial of difficult work from start to finish baring some royal intervention.

Royal Intervention was usually a bad thing.

And while she definitely hadn’t expected the raiders who’d stolen her from her home and forced her into another bout of enforced service, at the very least it hadn’t really been a particularly large change from her overall condition and familiar placement in life. After all, to the nobles every peasant might as well simply be a slave, just one with lower amounts of personal interaction to be dealt with. Her life had been proceeding exactly as expected for the most part, even with the added excitement in between and the wild, messy household of the woman who’d bought her.

The truth was however, despite the overall situation having stayed the same, the facts were that at least two things had fundamentally changed about the nature of her days. Well three if you considered the fact that she no longer needed to watch out for her own personal safety and survival against the wild of her home forests. She’d never been excellent with an axe, but just having a good one to swing at things that crawled out of the hungry dark was a massive boost to one’s survival in general. After all most predators didn’t actually want prey which could fight back and in so doing endanger their future ability to gather prey. Even magical fairy wolves and stalking Cait-sith were less inclined to jump a gal with a good iron axe at her side, and quick to back off if they did and she proved able to heft it with ease. A boat load of wood chopping formed muscle could easily be mistaken and or substituted for some semblance of skill.

The first fundamental which had changed since, other than the new semblance of safety which frankly was more of an illusion considering the chaotic life of her owner Ruby Redd, had been a her workload. In a way it was far easier than her peasant life, preparing meals, moving heavy things, going to hard labor for everything thing that needed to be done since the passing of her father; he’d forgotten his axe one morning... it’s served as a reminder to her never to do the same. But at the same time it was simply not. In other ways thought, her life had changed dramatically. Gone were the mornings of making small fanciful meals for herself as a simple stopgap between other forms of work, keeping herself full for the more physical labours, now instead she’d found herself essentially in charge of the cooking, and cleaning of an entire household.

With an ever growing cast of characters who needed to be cared for, often in very different ways.

Breakfast, lunch, and Dinner times were nothing short of utter madness. She’d taken to waking no less than two hours before the earliest risers and beginning the pots. For while it would have been easier to cook one large meal of the same thing for everyone... things simply didn’t work out that way in the least. Some ate pure meat, some ate other things, some ate plants alone, others needed blood poured down their stupid gullets... and Ruby Redd herself could waken and demand practically anything at all, expecting to get it rather than whatever she’d made for everyone else.

Just a few days ago she’d leaven learned to make Crapes... Mind mere days before that she’d never even heard of the things before.

It was hard to consider that she’d only been here for a week or two, what with the insane rush of feeling the multitude, cleaning up after them, doing the enormous mass of laundry, and otherwise finding her day filled with the minutia of every day work... and yet that madness it felt had receded as she’d settled into a holding pattern, that she’d begun to grow by leaps and bound, her potential filled out with the power of housework... a trial by fire which had forged her ever stronger than before.

Redd’s doing she supposed, the arcane arts of ‘Management’ giving beneficial fruit.

It was well enough, she supposed. At least the rapid growth had given her more than simply the ability to keep up with the insane demands of the job every day, this path set out by the woman who’d expected her to do it all alone, or at least to conscript and lead others in doing what she needed done... at the very least being able to finish all the meals, do all the laundry, and fixing the place for the umpteenth time since Silver’s altered ego decided to ‘help’, or the new cute little elf-child Pearl had a food fight with the fairy Citrine... or Platina had wondered out into the laundry chute and gotten stuck again… or any of the list of myriad ways in which her day could be made just that much more difficult with spills, messes, and minor events… she could relax for a hour or two simply doing some exercises and keeping herself nice and fit.

Silica liked to remind her that she didn’t appreciate being used as a substitute for barbells.

She liked to remind the evil hunk of metal how little she cared beyond making sure that she was clean and cared for.

Between the two of them they basically ruled the house of Redd.

Never the less, that said same shape which she kept to, more out of a longing for some level of stability in her life rather than loving the grotesque hulk that she was... was the reason for the OTHER new peculiarity in her life.

Namely the fact that someone, anyone at all... absolutely seemed enamored with her body as it was.

The fact was somehow, in that twisted mind of hers, Ruby Redd found her hot.

It was something which manifested in a multitude of ways, ranging not only from naked ogling of her form over the breakfast and dinner table, but also random slaps, to the rear, fingers sneaking between her legs whenever she stood to near, and other minor things. The way that Ruby’s fingers would slide down her toned stomach, play over her bulging arms, and linger across her legs.

Ruby was objectively a terrible person. Foolish. Prone to solving her problems with applications of violence, vice, and trickery... hell she’d even seen the woman seduce an idiot into her bed just to get the girl pregnant while asking their resident Dark Elf (Quartz was always wary of that one) to draw up a proper contract of entrapment and enslavery with which to bind the poor idiot to her.

And yet…

And yet… that terrible foolish, chaotic, whimsical woman… found her body worthy of note. Worthy of desire. Even the nobles wouldn’t touch her back home, her body a defense against their desires as she worked, an oddity since most of the nobility of Treehome seemed to feel it their sacred duty to make sure that every farmers daughter knew the mark of noble seed at some point in their lives, as it were some noble sacrifice for the greatness of their kingdom. Fuckers loved getting their dicks wet and leaving bastards behind that needed to be fed.

Hell half of the kingdom were essentially Noble bastards.

They never touched her.

Not like Ruby Redd touched her at every inconvenient opportunity.