Happy New Year!

Dear readers,

I wanted to take this opportunity to wish you a happy New Year. This has been a wonderful year for Ladies Becoming Maids blog, which was made possible by your valuable comments, interesting feedback and suggestions. Thank you very much for that.

Needless to say, 2016 was the best year for this blog in terms of readership and December was the best month ever by page views (+20% vs November 2016 and  3 1/2 times over December 2015 numbers). I've been trying to stick to the self-imposed 1 post/2 days schedule since early September and I am very pleased it has paid off, even though as times it was not an easy task to come up with ideas. Thankfully, participation from a number of readers and writers made this a lot easier. I have enjoyed communicating with all of you and hope the level of interest in this ratheer niche topic will only go up.

My plan for 2017 is to (finally) begin e-publishing my stories. I have several in various stages of completion currently so hopefully the first should be available in coming weeks. This is an experiment for me. If there is any interest, I'd be happy to share my self-publishing experiences after the fact. I might have missed the boat on this already, but I wouldn't know until I actually try.

I will also be devoting time to my newsletter, The first one came out earlier this week, the second one will be ready in a couple of days. If you haven't signed up yet, this is your chance! I am planning to make it a weekly thing. So, if you have any questions and ideas, please do not hesitate to e-mail me.

Once again, happy 2017 and thank you very much for reading my blog!

Camille Langtry

Story: A Servant's Revenge. Chapter 4.

by Mally01

Chapter four

Charlotte/Rosa enjoyed her new found status as Mistress of the mansion. It had been three months now and Rosa/Charlotte had settled well into the role of scullery maid. Charlotte/Rosa was at the moment in the health spa getting pampered by the staff. Chantelle was doing double duty at the moment as stable mistress and chauffeur. Today they had taken the Rolls Royce and she was polishing the golden paintwork to make it gleam.

After Charlotte/Rosa had finished her massage she and Chantelle went shopping at the exclusive Bianca's Classified store. This was not a cheap store but Charlotte/Rosa had no concerns about the price. When she had sold the shares in Amalgamated there had been a clause that she would receive a percentage of the profits for the next twenty years. This would keep her in new clothes and shoes and also pay the staff wages. She needed to get a driver though she did not want to have to overwork Chantelle. She thought back to her meeting with Olga that morning. She had informed Olga that she was going to promote her to Lady's maid which would give her a raise and she could dispense with the uniform. In turn, she was to train Rosa/Charlotte to take over from her as the housemaid. Olga was very thankful and said she would ensure that tomorrow Rosa/Charlotte would start with her new training.

Story: My Fair Maid. Chapter 2.

By B.L Sharp

Valerie Smart is still in shock as to the events that are unfolding in front of her. 2 days ago she received an email telling her they know about the inappropriate websites that she was browsing on the company computers. They blackmailed her and threaten to release that information unless she did what the blackmailer wanted. First she had to alter her hair from brunette to bimbo blonde. Next she was forced to go to a specialty uniform shop a mile east of her job and purchased three maid dresses and accessories which included aprons, maid headpiece and gloves. She had to get the dress alter according to the blackmailer specifications immediately after receives them. Then she had to go amazon and purchased a few pair of black and grey woolen pantyhose tights, plenty of white crew socks and a few spa slippers. She really did not understand why she had to have socks and slippers. What was the purpose of that? Then she have to pose in the uniform in positions that are described in very chilling and disturbing detail.

Getting out the shower Valerie dried herself off and looked at the black maid dress with the accessories next to it on the bed. Tears flowing down her cheeks as she have to be humiliated and reduced to a lowly servant forced upon her by someone who seems to really have it out for her. Wearing no bra and no panties according to the instructions she received via text hours after the email. She grabbed the black woolen tights and slipped them rolling them up her thighs. They were very uncomfortable which was deliberate.

Story: My Fair Maid. Chapter 1.

by B.L Sharp

Chapter One

Brandy Williams is sobbing uncontrollably in the parking lot of OnPoint retail store. The 29 year old African American college student has been terminated from the store for no reason. She did not understand the logic behind her firing. She had been a retail clerk for the big box store in Detroit for the past 8 years. She basically worked in every operation of the store from a cashier to the receiving associate. She always comes in on time and never late. Not once have she skipped work or called in sick. She came to her shift with a positive attitude and a big smile.

Now she just has been giving her pink slip two hours ago by that evil bitch Valerie who definitely had it in for her. She always was on Brandy case all day and every day. If she is not down her throat about her production, she is nitpicking every single thing that she does.

Brandy had this gut feeling that this firing was racially motivated (due to her ethnicity) and was designed to force her out of receiving. She also had this gut instinct that this was also designed to get Valerie pet employee Rachel the position. Brandy did not do anything that would warrant her termination. She had been a faithful employee to the company for almost a decade. This is how she is repaid? By being tossed out the company like trash? She is not going to let that whore get away with this.

Story: A Servant's Revenge. Chapter 3.

by Mally01

Chapter Three

Several days had passed and Charlotte continued to recover but to reinforce her condition Rosa had placed her in the scullery maids room. Rosa had received a large box from her friends in FIS. Inside were four compact discs and four different maids uniforms and some paperwork.

The first disc was labelled scullery maid and there was also a disc player with a large set of earphones and a blindfold. The idea was to reinforce Charlotte's dreams with subliminal messages hence the discs. While Charlotte was sedated Rosa placed the earphones on her head then the blindfold over her eyes and inserted the disc. She looked at the uniform and smiled as she held up the black long skirt and black blouse. Along with these items, there was a white bib and a white apron and a white headpiece. While  Charlotte had slept a hairdresser had been summoned and now she sported a classic maid's bob. The last item was a pair of one-inch casual shoes in black. Rosa went to a draw and removed a pair of fifteen denier black seamed pantyhose and left them with the uniform which she hung up. Rosa left the room and headed to the study and started making phones calls and soon all of the female staff who had been let go had their jobs back with a pay rise. Chantelle who was the scullery maid before being fired was over the moon as she thanked Rosa. She would resume her duties the next day but Rosa informed her she would have new duties which she would find out the next day.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 17.

by Violet Carson

Part 17

It was Sunday afternoon and I need to get to getaway Holidays to complete my week’s work there. On arrival I was surprised to see Marj and of course she grabbed my arm and sat me down in her office demanding that I tell her all about my afternoon with Jack.

I told her how sweet he’d been and that he wanted to take me out again but I didn’t know how I could go along with it without hurting his feelings. We sipped our teas together whilst Marj explained quite firmly that I was to go out with him and be the doting partner that he so wanted and we would then see how things turned out and she was sure that the longer I stayed as Rose the more I’d start to think as her and find myself drawn even closer to Jack. After all she said how could someone who looked like me expect to attract a younger man and when I looked in the bathroom mirror after completing the indignity of cleaning the toilets I had to agree with her. There was no doubt that what stared back at me looked like a woman in her 60s. I just didn't know if that was what I wanted or not.

Story: A Servant's Revenge. Chapter 2.

By Mally01

Chapter Two

“Rosa what are you doing it's only five o’clock,” exclaimed Charlotte as she sat up in the bed rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

”Well, Charlotte it is time for you to get to work you need to wash and dress before you start your chores.” Charlotte looked at Rosa and Rosa reminded her that it was Ms. Rosa for the rest of the day she was just Char as per their agreement.

“Now get out of that bed and come with me.” Charlotte slipped from under the blankets and eased her feet into the silk bed slippers.

“No Char you are a maid now no fancy slippers you will have to walk in bare feet now hurry up”. Charlotte followed Rosa and they headed to the servants quarters and Rosa showed her into a small room which had been the scullery maids before Charlotte had got rid of her. The room had one single bed a wooden dresser and a single wardrobe. That was the extent of the furniture apart from the small porcelain washbowl on top of the dresser.

Mailing List

Dear all,

I've decided to set up a mailing list for this blog and added a Newsletter tab on top to sign up. I am devoting more and more time to what started as a simple hobby and plan to begin e-publishing stories relatively soon. So if you are interested in receiving regular updates from yours truly, please do sign up!

Consider this a marketing excercise as I try to determine how many fans I have. 😎

Story: A Servant's Revenge. Chapter 1.

by Mally01

Chapter one

Lady Charlotte Samuels was the nineteen-year-old heiress to a multi-million fortune and was now at this moment on the verge of inheriting this fortune. She eased her Porsche into a parking space outside the family lawyers in the uptown white collar belt. She switched off the engine and slipped open the door and elegantly slid from behind the wheel. Mr Urquhart of Urquhart, Stanislaw and Broome was watching the five feet seven inch Ms Samuels walk across the parking lot turning heads in her red skirt which came down to just above her knees. The white blouse strained against her thirty-eight double d breasts which in turn strained against the white La Perla brassiere beneath. Her Brunette hair blew in the light summer breeze as she reached the door and it slid open.

The receptionist smiled as she approached and just as Charlotte reached the desk the phone rang and the receptionist took the call “USB lawyers and associates how may I help you.” The voice on the other end spoke and the receptionist replied: “Thank I will put you through now have a nice day.” The receptionist turned her attention to Charlotte who informed her that she had an appointment will Mr Urquhart. The receptionist picked up her phone and spoke with Mr Urquhart and then she told Charlotte to go through to his office. Mr Urquhart smiled as Charlotte entered and showed her to a seat in front of his oak desk. He then spoke to her about the fortune she had inherited telling her that she was now worth $100,000,000.

My favorites: Other Stories

While I am polishing the next chapters of Her Most Remarkable Performance, here is a selection of some of my favorite stories that don't involve maids, but feature other types of female transformation and themes of social and cultural drop. Much of this is pretty old so chances are, if you have been following the genre, you may have read some or all of them. Still, I wanted to share the list with you, partially to get your reactions and other reading suggestions. The list is far from complete and I am sure I've forgotten something I really liked that I've read over the years.

Transformations I like are slow, often self-inflicted, involve reduced status and happen due to stupidity or bad luck rather that someone's evil intent per se. Although, of course, there is nothing wrong with an occasional evil character destroying other people's lives. The stories on this list range from relatively mild and mostly psychological to nasty and brutal and most feature non-consensual stuff so please be warned. In no particular order:

Caption: Her Dream of Servitude

Mary felt exhausted. She spent the last few hours scrubbing large cooking pots and pans, scouring the floor, cleaning the stoves and sinks. She washed countless dishes and left them on wooden racks to dry. Her wet hands were red from all the work she had to do today. And the day before. And numerous days before then ever since she'd been assigned to the scullery as assistant to the kitchen maid.

She closed her eyes, trying to rest just a bit. How long could she endure it? Day after day of backbreaking work. Enduring disdain of all other servants, who looked down on scullery work. However, if she worked hard enough she could be made a parlour maid one day, Mary kept reminding herself. And then, if she did well and got lucky, she could even become a lady's maid! That would be the life: a lot less work, a nice and clean uniform, respect and envy of other household servants!

Story: A Clean Mouth

In my quest to gather all the lady-to-maid stories out there under one roof, I've come across this story by Volt Namazuros. Mind control is typically not my thing, but here it's evened out by another favorite fetish of mine - race/cultural change. I hope you enjoy it.

A Clean Mouth

by Volt Namazuros

“God, this place is a mess....Jie?! Jie, get in here!”

I tapped my foot impatiently as I looked around my study; I could see fingerprints on the glass tabletops, there was dust on the mantle, and my brass, full length mirror looked absolutely filthy. I took a moment to straighten my skirt as I looked up and down at my reflection, making sure I looked presentable. I had been working at this firm for a year; as far as I was concerned, being a lawyer was the best job ever. I had the two most important things; respect and money. If my meeting today went well, I’d be looking at a huge raise, so I had to look nice....I sighed, sticking my small chest out a little, trying to display what I thought was a proper amount of cleavage.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 5.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 5

Mr. Bermingdale took off his round glasses and rubbed his eyes. As Miss Ashburton’s trustee it was his duty to take care of all the household expenses and, until about a month ago, he could do it all very quickly during his weekly visits. He would pay all the bills, give instructions to the housekeeper and leave Lady Georgina her weekly allowance. Yet, during the last few visits, he started noticing strange things.

Firstly, the expense numbers were no longer adding up and Georgina’s muddled explanations involving some donations to a church charity and unplanned purchases did not make a lot of sense. It was obvious to Mr. Bermingdale –  he has been a solicitor for 30 years after all and knew the human psyche better than most –  that the young woman was lying. Secondly, Georgina was clearly excited about something –  something she wanted to keep secret from him. The new, livelier Georgina was a welcome change from the recluse she turned into following her mother’s departure, but still Mr. Bermingdale sensed some awkwardness in her –  it was as if she was embarrassed of the source of her excitement. Is she seeing a lover? No, that couldn’t be. It was something else. He’d have to find out.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 16.

by Violet Carson

Part 16

I stood in the ladies toilet at Imperial Foods touching up my make-up after a long and tiring shift. This morning for the first time I’d gone to work wearing my curlers but as I had an appointment at the hair salon that afternoon decided not to remove them and go straight there. I’d worn an old floral headscarf tied under my chin on the way to work and had now replaced it with my hairnet for work. I couldn’t wait to have my hair done at the salon again. Sitting under the hairdryer with my curlers in was such a turn-on and I so wanted to look my best for my night out. But in the back of my mind was the constant nagging worry about the state of my insides, but I knew that I had to take the risk as Marj would not tolerate me letting Jack down. Although Marj seemed so friendly towards me I was beginning to think that maybe she was starting to dominate me in a similar but more slightly subtle way than Mark and Lucy. But what was I to know? I was just a cleaner and had to do what she said and take her advice.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 4.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 4

A young maidservant, dressed in a black long-sleeved dress with white cuffs and a collar, a large apron tied around her waist, entered the room. It took Evelyn a few seconds to realize that the servant girl in front of her was Lady Georgina Ashburton. The contrast with the rich heiress that she just spoke to a few minutes ago was too great! The only giveaway was Georgina’s hairdo, which was far too elaborate for a simple maid, but her head was now partially covered by a snowy cap, contributing to her overall appearance as a humble servant, awaiting her demanding mistress’s orders.

Georgina made a step forward and curtseyed, looking at Evelyn expectantly.

”Did Madame ring?” she said, her voice trembling just a bit.

Story: Neighborly Advice

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 3.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 3

Evelyn had been to houses of the affluent classes before, but she was unprepared for the sheer opulence of the three-story mansion. The Ashburton residence was a flamboyant wonder of polished mahogany panels, Venetian glass, shiny marble floors, gold and crystal chandeliers. The silk-lined walls of the entrance hall were covered by paintings and Evelyn could see two matching Greek statues in a room to the right.

The actress looked in with little-restrained awe at the richness surrounding her as she was led by Sarah through an enfilade into a lavish drawing room that would not look out of place at a royal palace. The lady of the house, a young woman in a silk taffeta high-necked, long-sleeved grey dress with a prominent bustle, rose from the sofa. Her auburn hair was swept up in an intricate cluster of Josephine curls.

“It is very nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Fairchild.” The lady smiled and asked Evelyn to take a seat  next to her. “Sarah told me so much about you.”

Story: Maid in China. Part 3.

by Barefoot Servant

Lightning bolts struck Maddie’s ears… over and over again. “What’s that noise?” she mumbled to no one in particular. Maddie pulled the pillow, too thin to be her own, and blanket, thinner still, over her head. They provided little protection. Only then did she realize that she did not enjoy the comfort and security of her own bed. “What’s going on? Where am I?”

“Alarm,” someone—Rosario—answered, “and you’re in bed when you shouldn’t be. We’ve got work to do.” The answers were punctuated by two sharp jabs to Maddie’s ribs, courtesy, she knew, of Rosario’s chubby brown index finger. At least the blaring of the alarm had ceased.

Maddie stretched. Arms and toes extended, she easily exceeded the length of the small bed. I hope my bed in China is more comfortable than this. Her eyes stung and her whole body ached, especially her feet. “What time is it anyway?”

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 2.

by Camille Langtry Chapter 2
Evelyn Fairchild stood in front of Arctic Fur Store at Chepstow Place and looked in awe at the luxurious offerings on display: fashionable mantles and dalmans, heavy floor-length coats, delicate opera cloaks and wraps, hats and muffs that appeared almost weightless. It wasn’t just the beauty of these items that mesmerized the pretty young woman, it was their extravagant prices. Even the simplest muff went for 12 guineas and a Russian sable coat she loved the most was 70 guineas –  an impossible sum if your weekly wage at the Royal Strand Theatre is just three pounds.

Evelyn did the quick calculation in her head: she would need to starve and stop paying rent for almost six months in order to save enough to buy the fur coat. However, she could probably borrow from some of the girls at the theatre to buy the muff –  and then repay them over a few months –  but what good was a muff if she had no gowns, hats or coats to go with it? Her dresses were nothing to look at, her undergarments were simple cotton, she had only two good pairs of shoes, and her old coat had gone at the elbows and was unlikely to survive the next winter.  She also had no jewelry to speak of. The straw hat she had on was not something one could find in the last issue of Le monde élégant and her plain brown dress’s tournure, in defiance of latest Parisian styles, was far too small. Evelyn was utterly, humiliatingly démodé.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Chapter 1.

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 1
London. 1884.

The  maid straightened an imaginary wrinkle in her snow-white ruffled apron, readjusted a lacy cap on top of her chestnut hair, knocked on the door and entered her mistress’s bedroom.

“Did Madame ring?”

“Yes, I need help undressing,” said the young mistress, dressed in a bustled crimson ball gown, and set down, facing a large ornate vanity.

“Most certainly, Ma’am”, the maid answered in the most respectful tone of voice she could master and curtseyed. She took the position behind her sitting mistress and started removing hairpins and, after the lady’s hair was set free from the confines of her elaborate evening coiffure, began combing it.

“Ouch! Careful, you clumsy cow… Did you pull any of my ‘air out? It felt like you did. Here, give it back to me.” The mistress grabbed an ivory comb from her maid’s hand and began working on her brown hair in long, confident strokes. “I don’t know why I keep paying ya, girl, I really don’t.”

“I am so sorry, Madame, this won’t happen again,” the maid ventured. The mistress put the comb away and stood up, facing the humbled maid.

Story: Her Most Remarkable Performance. Prologue.

At long last I have enough material to start publishing this lady-to-maid opus magnum. I am still working on it, but I thought I'd start sharing what I have with the blog readers to get some constructive feedback. It's really embarrasing to admit how long it's been sitting semi-finished on my hard drive so I've decided to gauge readers' interest in this project that has been dear to my heart. A teaser for now, to be followed by several chapters in coming weeks. Looking forward to your feedback.

Her Most Remarkable Performance

By Camille Langtry

Prologue

New York. 1894.

“Are you sure it is here, Harris?” a young lady looked outside the carriage window in apparent disbelief.  The pouring rain has thankfully ended, the sky was almost clear and Mulberry Street, with its shabby brick tenement buildings, wooden shacks and lopsided sheds, surrounded by heaps of garbage, was now perfectly seen in all its dilapidated glory. This was New York’s notorious immigrant underbelly, considered by many the most dangerous part of the entire city.

“Yes, Ma’am,’’ Harris replied respectfully, opened the black carriage's door and held out the hand to his mistress. He was in his late 50s and sported a greying handlebar moustache that made him look like a retired cavalry officer. The lady, dressed in a stylish hat and an elegant light blue suit with oversized leg-o-mutton sleeves, stepped out, careful not to place her polished shoes in the puddle on the muddy, manure-covered sidewalk. On her delicate shoulders she wore a light fur boa with long tabs hanging down the front.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 15.

by Violet Carson

My first morning at Imperial Foods had arrived. I had driven past the large old factory a number of times as AJ, but never for one moment had expected to be walking through the gates and going to reception as an employee.

At the main gate a rather smartly dressed security guard stopped me and asked who I was.

I gave him my name and was asked to sign his Visitors Book and he directed me to a side entrance where the cleaning and shop floor staff entered the building, not via the smarter main reception area that was used by management and visiting sales representatives. This was another successful downgrade I thought to myself. Why would a poor cleaner be entering via a main entrance. I was Rose not AJ.

I presented myself to a rather disinterested black girl at the small and battered staff reception desk. There were quite a few rather sad looking individuals sitting around who I soon learnt were people hoping for work on the shop-floor or as cleaners. They all seemed to be foreign immigrants of some description. I sat there hoping that I wouldn’t have any of the “little accidents” that I’d had recently and that my pants were secure or I’d probably lose my new job before it had even started!

Story: New Employee. Chapters 12-13.

by BigBird74

12.

The days that followed passed in a hurried blur of anticipation and anxiety. It took almost two days for the dye to wash out of my hair and even then it looked slightly dull and matted, robbed of its typical gloss. ‘I really should have gone to a salon’, I sighed as I fingered the mass of split ends and combed it into something resembling the mane I usually wore proudly on my head. Still no matter how much I washed, nothing seemed capable of completely removing the tanning lotion. I looked like I had been on holiday or visited a cheap tanning salon.

The last meeting before I started my reckless adventure therefore passed off under the confused gaze of a few participants who knew me reasonably well. Fortunately hardly anyone else did and, for once, my lower profile in the company had worked to my advantage.

I could barely concentrate on the meeting. I was now almost exclusively focused upon my ‘trip’. I still had to deal with a number of outstanding issues concerning Marta. Her pay (minimum wage of course + a bonus); her accommodation (the hotel of course, but a private room); her supervisor (hotel manager). As intelligent as I considered myself, I was giving myself headaches trying to think of everything that could possibly go wrong. And there was a lot. If not for my impulsive nature and the obsessive need to fulfil my fantasy, I doubt I would have carried on. So many things could go wrong, but I was no longer listening to my inner thinking.

Caption: A Much Better Mistress Than I Ever Was

Just a minute ago I was determined to finally tell her that the stupid game was up, that it had to come to an end once and for all. But here I was, standing in front of her, unable to utter a single word. I could see my impression in a vanity behind her - my black-and-white uniform, my apron, my lacy maid's cap, my pale, unattractive face - I was the exact opposite of the Goddess standing in front of me. How could I demand anything from her? I looked at her shapely semi-dressed body, her thick blonde hair, her picture-perfect face, her (or, rather, mine) expensive watch, her (or, rather, my mother's) golden medallion, hanging from her delicate neck.

Another Library Page Update

Thanks to a number of blog readers that suggested stories I should add to my library after my previous update post a month ago, I now have quite a few new items I am happy to link. They are of varying size and quality, but all deal with the subject of social drop and degradation and feature maids.

One recent lady-to-maid story that I really liked was published by Tcheser in his blog. It's called Hidden Shame an deals with themes of "makeunder" and role reversal as the protagonist goes from an arrogant beauty to a plain housekeeper to her former friend.

A reader pointed me to Akiko's Bodyswap Captions blog. One of the recurrent themes there is transformation into a maid. While anime is typically not my cup of tea, some of the content is pretty interesting for a lady-to-maid afficionado. Here is a recent example of the type of captions found there - Was I tricked?

Another reader reminded me of a lesbian domination video made a while back about a maid trading places with her mistress. Looks interesting. You can find it here.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 14.

by Violet Carson

I returned exhausted from my evening shift to find the group of Africans sitting on the stairs as I made my way up towards my flat. They didn’t move out of the way and I fearfully had to squeeze in between them smelling the alcohol on their breath.

I was petrified and as I passed one said in a thick African accent.

“Hey lady, have you got any cigarettes?”

My mind raced: should I lie and say no or give him one.

I reached into my shoulder bag and said: “Yes, but I only have a couple for myself.”

“They’ll do,” he replied, snatching the half full packet from my hand and passing it amongst his friends. Amazingly he returned the packet with two remaining cigarettes to me.

I was so relieved that I’d actually got off so lightly. It had even crossed my mind that I might get raped, but I suppose I looked such a turn-off to a group of muscular young men that any such thoughts would have seemed repulsive to them.

Another worrying thought was that when they passed the packet around I thought to myself,

“Please don’t take them all. I’ll have none to smoke later!”

Story: Doeville Halloween Ghost Train

By T. H. Enerdly

Part 1

Introduction

Barry Knight, editor of the "Daily Granite," hung up the phone. 
He had been asked for some help by a friend.  Barry pondered 
the request for several minutes before asking his secretary 
to fetch Claire, a cub reporter for the newspaper and ideal 
for the assignment Barry had in mind.

After a few minutes, Claire stuck her head into Barry's office 
and said, "What's up, chief?"

"Great Kaiser's ghost, don't call me chief, girl."

"Don't call me girl, chief."

"Too much sass by far," thought Barry.  "She'll be more respectful 
when she returns from her next assignment."

"Have a seat, gir..., Claire."

After Claire sat down, Barry continued, "Have you ever heard the 
legend of the Doeville Halloween ghost train?"

Story: Transformation of a Middle-Class Woman

by Conchita
(Translated by The Nerdly and edited by C. Lakewood)

Part 1

Translator's Preface:

This is a translation from the French of a story entitled
"Transformation d'une Bourgeoise," which was uploaded to the
files section of the now-extinct Yahoo Group "Arrogant Women
Embarrassed" in the fall of 2004.  As far as I can determine,
the story was first posted to a French site that specialized
in a fetish for nylon smocks (which are somewhat similar to lab
coats and are typically worn by working women, such as cleaning
ladies).  The story's primary focus is on this type of clothing. 
I am not a devotee of this fetish, but do hope the translation
does justice to this aspect of the story.  There is also a
secondary focus on humiliation and D/s, which is of more
interest to me, and, I suspect, to the members of our group.

The story exists in several variants.  I uploaded one such
variant in English to the "Arrogant Women Embarrassed" group. 
Subsequently, I noticed that, to me, the French version is
more interesting than the English version.  For this reason,
I undertook to provide the members of the group with a new
translation.

Story: Becoming a Maid

by Annette

Translated by The Nerdly, edited by C. Lakewood

Part 1

Miriam, a friend of mine, remarked one day during a luncheon,
"There are two ways of wearing a black dress: with a pearl
necklace or with a white apron."

The bon mot piqued my curiosity, so much so that the next time
I was at the Samaritaine department store, I bought a waitress's
white apron.  When I got home, I tested Miriam's theory in front
of a mirror.  First, I put on a pearl necklace and regarded my
overall image.  Then I exchanged the pearls around my neck for
an apron around my waist.  The dress with an apron was a
completely different garment than it had been with the necklace.

What if I actually WERE a maid?  Me...become a maid?  But how?  For
whom?  And, above all, WHY?  It was, of course, a truly mad idea,
yet a strangely pleasurable feeling crept over me.

I picked up the telephone and dialed a familiar number.  "Miriam?"

Story: The Bottle of Oil

By Sergio (domedeus2002)

Translated from the Italian by The Nerdly


"Damn, damn, damn!" muttered Valerie to no one in particular.  Once again, a bottle of oil had slid through her fingers and shattered on the floor.  She sank to her knees and began collecting the shards of glass, all the while cursing her clumsiness.  She knew that her mistress would not be pleased when she learned about this latest incident.  She had emphasized that Valerie was to be careful with the bottle, and now....  No, her mistress would not be at all happy to learn about her carelessness.

The last time Valerie had dropped a bottle of oil, the Signora had whipped her without mercy, and she still remembered it vividly. She had wept, had screamed, had begged at the top of her lungs for her mistress to show mercy and stop beating her, but to no avail. The punishment had continued unabated until Valerie had felt wetness on her thighs, and then she had to kiss her mistress's hand in the prescribed fashion, lick the whip clean, put it back where it belonged, and, finally, thank her mistress for the discipline.

Story: Maid to Order

I am planning to re-publish some of the stories from C.Lakewood's wonderful collection in this blog to make sure they don't follow the way of much of transformation fiction on once popular yahoo groups that have since been deleted or went inactive. A lot of this late 1990s-early 2000s stuff has probably been lost forever and, given the quality of C.Lakewood's work and the fact that his page hasn't been updated for nearly four years, I don't want one day to discover that the site is now gone. Therefore I will re-publish a few of the stories here and, possibly, introduce a few readers to some of the lady-to-maid classics.

Maid to Order
by C.Lakewood
                   ________________________________
                   |                               |
                   |         PENDANT PRESS         |
                   |                               | 
                   |                               |
                   |        Susan Ingoldsby        |
                   |                               |
                   |         Senior Editor         |
                   |_______________________________|            

 I envisioned my brand new business card yet again.  The 
promotion was in the bag -- more status, a hefty raise, and better 
benefits -- in return for what is really part-time work...plus a 
little skillful flirting with upper management, implying a lot more 
than I ever intend to come across with....  God!  How long have I 
been playing this game?  It must be 15 years now -- ever since my 
sophomore year in college.  And I'm very, very good at it, if I do 
say so.

    College professors, traffic cops, salesmen, contractors, 
supervisors, Warren (my wimpy ex) -- all grist for my mill.  
The latest, old man Morton (the erstwhile Senior Editor and my 
erstwhile mentor), was one of the easiest: flatter him a little, 
pick his brains, knife him in the back, and manoeuvre the carcass 
out the door -- all without him really knowing what had happened 
and who had engineered it.  Well, he did warn me that "Business 
is Darwinian."  I hope he's satisfied to be part of the proof.  

    (Of course, I role-play only for people who can give me 
something.  Lower-end people -- janitors, for example -- tend 
just to get the sharp edge of my tongue.)

Waiting for Love: Vitchi Fashion Shoot

I hope I didn't bore you to death with my obsession with maid-inspired fashion editorials, but here is yet another one. You have to envy fashion photographers - there are not that many occupations where, if you are lucky, you are paid good money for acting out your fetishes.

Caption: No Going Back

I have a large collection of German-language lady-to-maid captions of varying quality, salvaged from a now defunct yahoo group. This is one of a better ones that fits nicely with a lot of the themes in this blog. The free translation is courtesy of T.H.Enerdly.

Translation:

No Going Back

by Derdurchdiezeitreisende (The Time Traveller)

“You don’t look too happy, Madame. Has he left you too?” Rosa couldn’t deny that she felt a sense of schadenfreude about Heather’s streak of bad luck.

“Rosa, please help me. There’s nothing more I can do. What am I doing wrong?” After betting everything on her relationship, Heather knew that she had fallen into a hole so deep that there was no hope of climbing out by herself.

“What more could I do to help you, Madame? I’m your maid: It’s my job to obey your orders. I do your laundry and clean your home, I serve your guests, and when Madame rings the bell, I’m AT YOUR SERVICE.”

“That’s not what I mean, Rosa. I know that you’re a hard-working maid, the best I’ve ever had. But I need a friend to help me cope with my life as well as you seem to cope with yours.” Imploringly, Heather looked into the eyes of her maid. Rosa’s eyes were cold and arrogant. After a few moments, Heather lowered hers to the floor. At this moment, Heather knew how Rosa could help. “Rosa, I’d like to change places with you. How would you like to be the Madame? I’d be your maid.”

Rosa laughed, “Madame, you can’t be serious. I may be your servant, but I’m not your plaything. What would happen? The fine lady plays at being a domestic servant for a while, then, when she’s had enough, everything returns to normal? No, Madame, if you want to be my maid, there won’t be any going back. You should give me all of your property, or even better, get hopelessly into debt.” Rosa laughed again, for she knew that Heather was about to give in. “Heather, honey, a maid’s uniform fits so much better when there’s no going back.”