Friday, February 17, 2017

Story: A Maid for Malangton Hall. Chapters 7-8.

by Jackie J
Chapter 7
It was a concerned Miss Nightingale that disturbed Rosemary from her slumbers.
“Rose, Rose what are you doing still in your bed its past six O’clock you should be dressed and ready for work?”
Rosemary stretched and yawned and took a few moments to gather her thoughts, her first thought being: where was she?
Rosemary stared at Miss Nightingale framed in the doorway of the frugal maid’s quarters looking less that pleased.

Rosemary gathered her thoughts.
“O’ sorry, sorry.”
Miss Nightingale turned back across the hallway and into the kitchen and Rosemary stumbled out of the narrow bunk. Fumbling with her garments Rosemary dressed in her unfamiliar maid’s uniform and after pinning her hair and donning her lacy cap entered the kitchen to join her Mistress.
A curtsy she felt embarrassed at her tardiness.
Miss Nightingale looked her slightly dishevelled maid up and down.
“What is this, look at you?”
“Back in your room and dress properly. You look a mess.”
If Rosemary felt embarrassed, she now felt awkward and unsure just like Miss Nightingale had intended.
Scurrying back into her room Rosemary looked at herself in the mirror.
Her collar not buttoned up, her apron twisted, her hair dangling from her cap and one of her boots unlaced.
Rosemary fussed with her uniform and re-tied her laces before spending some time with her wayward hair before returning to the kitchen.
It was a meek Rosemary who curtsied before her Mistress.
Miss Nightingale stared at Rosemary for a few moments before speaking letting her maid wilt before her.
“Not a good start to your day Rose, not good at all.”
Miss Nightingale pointed to the roster pinned to the wall.
“Your day starts at six it is now ten before seven. You have missed breakfast and you should have started to gather the laundry?”
“I will leave you to familiarise yourself with the roster Rose and I will put this disrespect down to this being your first full day has my maid. No Mistress would tolerate such behaviour from her maid and a Stephenson’s maid would feel the full wrath of her mistress if she ever even thought of laying in her bed when she should be at her chores.”
The chastisement was effective, it was an error not repeated by Miss Nightingale’s maid.
From this bad start Rosemary was harried for most of the morning by her Mistress. Questioned to the point of ridicule, when she attempted the various cleaning tasks set for her, Rosemary struggled to maintain her composure and her enthusiasm for the supervisory training was starting to falter. Something that did not go unnoticed by Miss Nightingale, she knew exactly what she was doing and to the relief of Rosemary softened her approach during the afternoon.
After preparing, serving and having taken a light lunch herself Rosemary entered the study and curtsied.
Miss Nightingale smiled.
“Well does this not look better; are you not proud of what your labours have achieved?”
Rosemary looked around the room in which she had toiled during the morning. The paintwork scrubbed clean, the rugs beaten and the floor tiles gleaming fresh drapes hung across the sparkling windows every piece of furniture polished to a perfect sheen. Ornaments cleaned and set a pristine starched lace doily under each, pictures hung square their gilded frames bright and glistening. The whole room had been transformed it reminded her of the parlour at Westbury Manor.
Miss Nightingale continued.
“And how was all this possible, granted you carried out the work but only by virtue of my strict supervision, being able to direct you on how to accomplish your tasks to the highest standards. You may think that I judged you harshly this morning but look around you how could you have done this without your Mistresses supervision?”
Rosemary blushed at the praise of her work Miss Nightingale was right she knew what had to be done and how and now Rosemary shared that knowledge, this was what the supervisory training was all about wasn’t it?

Miss Nightingale smile broadened
“Well Rose are you going to thank your Mistress?”
Rosemary was bordering on being giddy forgetting the harsh reality of being berated, being made to feel stupid and inadequate succumbing to the directions of her Mistress and dropped a curtsy.
“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.”
The large bell by the main door rang and Rosemary looked at Miss Nightingale who pointed to the door.
“Answer that Rose, it is most likely the new cleaning equipment and materials I have arranged for you.”
Rosemary never gave a thought to how she was dressed in her maid’s uniform when she opened the door and felt rather strange when the delivery man looked at her and smiled.
“Cleaning materials requested by your Mistress.”
The next hour was spent moving the large boxes from the truck into the kitchen and stacking everything away in the cupboards. Rosemary giggling to herself having been taken to be the maid of the household rather than its Mistress by the delivery man.
Each day for the rest of week Rosemary was up early and followed the directions of her increasingly demanding and less tolerant Mistress, breakfast served at six before starting her chores. The kitchen, parlour, dining room, reception rooms all being raised to the pristine standards of the study under the scrutiny of her Mistress and each evening, having prepared and served dinner, returning exhausted to her quarters.
The laundry had always been taken care of by the lady from the village and the drudgery of this aspect of a maid’s work was becoming apparent to Rosemary. Washing, drying, pressing and folding, everything having to be done to the highest standards not a stain or crease to be seen. Miss Nightingale taking a perverse pleasure watching her maid toil at her washboard seeing her once manicured hands becoming cracked and dried by the soda.
The first week over Rosemary found herself becoming quite fussy fluffing cushions, wiping the merest blemish, stain or speck of dust and anything seen out of place adjusted. Not that this had not come about by the constant prompting and nagging of her Mistress. Rosemary repeatedly told that the household must be kept spotless at all times and, with a strangely increasing desire to please her Mistress, she complied.
A small bell was now in use should Rosemary’s Mistress require her attention, the bell ornate and similar to the one that Rosemary had seen in use by Miss Stephenson to summon her maid Molly. She could not have known at that time that she would have become has attentive as Molly to its chime.
Summoned by the tinkle of her Mistress's bell Rosemary entered the parlour and curtsied
Miss Nightingale smiled at her pristine maid stood before her.
“O Rose what a shame your whole look is ruined by your hair it really is, can’t we do something with that?” “I want to see the best in you but your hair is always dangling from your cap what do you say a new look, a modern look, nothing too drastic it would please me and you want to please your Mistress don’t you?”
Rosemary had spent all week wanting to please her Mistress, she was conditioned to it, how could she refuse?
Rosemary removed her cap and pins letting her hair shake down, her luscious locks falling about her shoulders.
“Well I have found it a challenge always getting in the way no matter how I pin it up it always seems to be in my face and I have been concerned when preparing your meals perhaps a trim a shorter style would be more practical?”
Miss Nightingale stood and ran her fingers through Rosemary’s tresses.
“Well if you agree Rose I can trim this for you.”
Miss Nightingale kept Rosemary’s attention by praising her for her work during the week whilst she snipped away and, with more hair on the kitchen floor surrounding Rosemary’s feet than remaining on her head, the deed was done.
Rosemary felt the cold draft on the nape of her neck, looked to the floor then ran her fingers up into the short styled bob.
“Oh my gracious what have you done!!”
Miss Nightingale knew exactly what she had done.
“What? It looks lovely it really does.”
Picking Rosemary’s lacy cap from the counter she placed it into position on Rosemary’s head with a grip and stood back.
“O’ yes much better perfect in fact.”
Rosemary was not happy Miss Nightingale had gone too far and Rosemary told her so calling her names that a maid would never use toward her Mistress before storming out of the kitchen to seek a mirror.
Rosemary gazed at her reflection in the mirror by the door of the room the room which had become hers, the maid’s room, and sighed. She fussed with her cap and whilst still angry it did look better, neat, tidy and practical. Wiping the tears of her anger from her cheeks she composed herself and brushed some remaining cut hairs from her dress. What did it really matter she had wigs in her bedchamber that she could use until it grew back? She then convinced herself it was probably healthy to have such a drastic cut every so often?
Rosemary then reflected on her reaction with Miss Nightingale, she had shouted at her before seeking the sanctuary of her room?
Rosemary took a deep breath and walked from her room out into the kitchen to face a stern faced Miss Nightingale.
Before Rosemary could speak to offer an apology for her rant Miss Nightingale glared at her maid.
“How dare speak to your Mistress like that, I make you more presentable, you asked me to cut your hair and you have the audacity to speak to me like that.” Now you tell me missy if a maid should not deserve to be punished by her mistress for such an outburst.”
Rosemary could feel herself starting to tremble she had been berated regularly through the week by her Mistress but the look in Miss Nightingale's eyes, this was different.  She knew she had crossed a line, a maid could never speak to her Mistress like she had but what would a Mistress do to her maid, punished, punished what punishment would a Mistress hand out to her maid she had to know?
Rosemary was feeling weak a weakness that was exciting her, she had to know how a maid would be punished by her Mistress and dropped curtsy looking contrite.
“Sorry Mistress yes a maid should be punished.”
Miss Nightingale had seen that look of accepted expectancy before this was her opportunity to push home her dominance.
“Then if the maid should be punished, go to the study, you will find a large blue holdall by my desk. Go and fetch it here.”
Rosemary dropped a curtsy.
“Yes, Mistress.”
Returning to the kitchen Rosemary placed the holdall, which unknown to her held the appliances of encouragement, onto the table and stood back.
Miss Nightingale unfastened the straps and opened up the bag then slowly began to remove the contents item by item. Rosemary looked on with increasing concern but inquisitive anticipation.
, A wooden paddle she recognised, a belt, a strange looking belt then gasped recognising its function? A length of fine chain in a Y shape with screwed claw clasps on the ends of the three terminations, another belt with two cuff collars attached and finally a steel device, two flat plates and what looked like a strong spring between them.
Miss Nightingale looked up at a wide eyed Rosemary.
“These are the encouragements you will have heard mention of. When a maid requires encouragement, when she has forgotten that her obedience to her Mistress is not discretionary, when she falters and needs to be brought back into line, when she requires to be punished, these are the options open to a Stephenson’s maid’s Mistress.”
Rosemary gulped and swallowed hard when Miss Nightingale identified each item in turn.
Picking up the wooden paddle Miss Nightingale slapped it down on the table making Rosemary flinch.  
“A spanking paddle, a chastity belt, a cuff belt, a stooping chain and finally this little device a tongue trap.”
Miss Nightingale’s eyes tightened and Rosemary’s mouth dried staring at the revealed appliances. All thoughts of anger from her hair being lopped from her gone, if Rosemary had any masochistic traits buried in her subconscious they were being drawn into her conscious thoughts. Rosemary’s eyes blinked at the prospect of being adorned in any of the restrictive devices, being spanked with the wooden paddle or muted with the tongue trap.  
Miss Nightingale let Rosemary contemplate the displayed array then smiled placing the items back into the bag.
“Not for you, not today my pretty maid, no I have something else in mind for you, something that will remind you of your behaviour and the disrespect you have shown to your Mistress today.
“Your wardrobe will be mine, I shall wear your gowns about the house and each time you see me wearing your fine clothes in front of you it will be a constant reminder that you must respect your Mistress at all times.”
Miss Nightingale smirked and motioned back to the bag.
“Unless you would prefer the tongue trap for your insolent mutterings Rose?”
Rosemary looked visibly relieved with an audible sigh has a tenseness evaporated from her.
Rosemary of course accepted what appeared to be a lesser punishment than one from the bag of encouragements.

Chapter 8
Saturday, normally a day when Mrs Worthington would be seen out walking or riding, was spent in the dusty guest bedrooms each one thoroughly cleaned and the linen prepared to be laundered. The hallway, landings and each room left sparkling much like the rooms downstairs, Rosemary’s bed making skills having been criticised to the point of perfection replacing the bedding.
Her own bed chamber, which Miss Nightingale had coveted since her arrival and would soon be hers, was being given extra special attention. When Miss Nightingale pushed open the door and smirked at her sweaty, bedraggled maid Rosemary stumbled up from her hands and knees, from her sweeping, to stand and curtsy chirping out her mantra.
Rosemary having agreed, agreed, what choice did she really have to Miss Nightingale having the use of her wardrobe? Miss Nightingale spoke in a matter of fact tone.
“Rose given I have the full run of your wardrobe, for your insolence the other day,  it seems ridiculous that I should have to enter this room especially to dress or take the selected items to the guest room I have been using. It would make more sense for me to use this room your bed chamber.”
“Don’t you agree Rose?”
Rosemary was tired and aching from the cleaning and the preparation of the guest rooms and looked wearily at Miss Nightingale stood in another of Rosemary’s fine dresses. Rosemary was all in, what difference would it make which room her Mistress used? Yes, her Mistress, Rosemary could not now think of Miss Nightingale in any other persona than her Mistress and acquiesced.
“Yes Mistress if that is what you think is best.”
Miss Nightingale smiled and left Rosemary to her labours.
Sunday and Mrs Worthington would have dressed in her finest clothes and attended church perhaps taking tea at the vicarage. This Sunday however was to be spent laundering the huge pile of bed linen. It was mid afternoon when, with the myriad of sheets flapping on the washing lines, Rosemary entered the sanctuary of the kitchen and sunk into a chair and started to doze. She was roused from her light sleep by the repeated sound of her Mistress's bell and gathering herself scampered to its call.
Entering the parlour Rosemary curtsied.
Miss Nightingale turned from her chair.
“Rose you will be pleased to know that Miss Stephenson will be visiting this evening so dinner will be for two, I expect you to be immaculate in appearance and carry out your duties perfectly, this will be a big test for you”
Rosemary was visibly pleased hearing that Miss Stephenson would be coming to Malangton Hall and with a weak smile listened to her Mistress. Her smile soon dissipated when Miss Nightingale continued.
“At five O’clock you will join me in my bed chamber to help me bathe something I have neglected thus far but it is important that you understand this aspect of a maids duties.”
Rosemary stood staring at her Mistress, cleaning and the general upkeep of the hall along with meals preparation and serving was one thing and although she had literally been treated like a maid by her Mistress she had learned much. But servicing her Mistress's personal needs was a departure she had not contemplated. But yes a maid would assist her Mistress with her personal needs and she would need to know about these things wouldn’t she?
Miss Nightingale impatient for her maid’s response stood from her chair.
“Well Rose?”
Rosemary curtsied.
“Sorry Mistress, yes at five O’clock your bed chamber.”
Dismissed Rosemary returned to the kitchen and began preparations for dinner. With pans bubbling on the stove it was approaching five O’clock and Rosemary made her way up to her bedchamber now the bedchamber of her Mistress.
Miss Nightingale was waiting wrapped in one of Rosemary’s silk dressing gowns. Rosemary stood and stared looking at the elegance of her Mistress then curtsied
Miss Nightingale smiled
“Rose, on time very good no maid should keep her Mistress waiting, now prepare the bath.”
Rosemary turned on the heater and started to fill the bathtub a simple task one would think but, no sooner had the water started to enter the tub the shrill voice of Miss Nightingale rang out.
“Stop, stop, stop.”
“Rose, what are you doing?”
“A maid would not just start to fill the bath like that?”  You have not asked what temperature your mistress requires the water, which oils and fragrances she desires? You have not set the towels or the stepping board?”
Rosemary stepped back from the bath tub, just like with everything Miss Nightingale had a way and tone of making Rosemary feel inadequate, awkward, ill at ease and apologetic, like a maid, a mistress’s maid!.
“Sorry Mistress.”
Miss Nightingale disguised her pleasure at seeing Rosemary’s discomfort and instructed Rosemary in the procedures for preparing a bath for her Mistress. Rosemary nodded and listened obediently whilst given her instructions then followed them to prepare her Mistresses bath.
When her Mistress slipped out of her silky robe and stepped through the rising steam into the foam covered water Rosemary’s eyes were drawn to her nudity and lithe shapely figure. Realising she was staring Rosemary looked to the floor an embarrassing blush becoming evident.
Sinking below the welcoming warmth of her bath Miss Nightingale looked up at her blushing maid breathing in the scent of her chosen fragrances
“Mmmmmmmmmm perfect Rose, just perfect, sponge my back will you?”
Miss Nightingale's firm and ample bust bounced freely when she leaned forward. Rosemary, taking the soaped sponge, began to tentatively smooth it over her Mistresses milky white skin. Arms lifted Rosemary continued to work the sponge under her Mistress's arms. Rosemary had never been so intimate with another woman and was feeling the experience embarrassing but also strangely erotic. Miss Nightingale sensing Rose’s nervous unease squirmed provocatively cupping her breasts purposely splashing a liberal amount of water over Rosemary.
“Rose you are going to be soaked go and remove your clothes, all of them.”
Rosemary looked at her Mistress with a degree of dismay was she asking her to strip, to bathe her whilst naked?
Rosemary’s hesitation brought a sterner tone from Miss Nightingale.
“Don’t disobey me Rose go and remove your clothing, it is not uncommon for a mistress’s maid to be naked whilst bathing her Mistress.”
Rosemary was in a fluster, if seeing her Mistress naked was an emotional problem being naked herself to bathe her Mistress filled her with dread.
Having removed her maid’s uniform and underwear Rosemary crept cautiously back to kneel by the bath tub and, taking up the sponge, looked at her smiling Mistress. Miss Nightingale hoisted her shapely leg, her thigh resting high on the edge of the tub her hips raised revealing her dark bush which floated just below the surface of the water. Rosemary gulped not wanting her eyes to stare and smeared the soapy sponge from her ankle to her Mistress's knee. A firm hand of her mistress continued the travel of the sponge over her thigh and into her open crotch. Rosemary was becoming hot and bothered almost distressed and tried to pull away the sponge but Miss Nightingale's grip was strong and firm caressing herself. Miss Nightingale having guided the sponge to herself slowly relaxed her grip leaving Rosemary pushing and pressing at her intimacy. When the arm of Miss Nightingale snaked behind Rosemary’s neck and gently drew her towards her Rosemary was in emotional turmoil, her nipples hardening her pussy moist she sighed in capitulation when Miss Nightingale’s lips met hers.
Rosemary briefly pulled away and looked into Miss Nightingale's smoky eyes, her Mistress's eyes, then pouted and the long lingering kiss that followed filled her body with a weak numbness and offered no resistance has she was drawn over the edge of the tub and into the perfumed water.
Miss Nightingale an accomplished and aggressive Dyke had waited this moment since eyeing the pretty and sophisticated Mrs Worthington on her first visit to Malangton Hall and she was going to relish this seduction.
Rosemary had had no intimate sexual stimulation since her husband’s death and was ripe for the taking, Miss Nightingale’s skilled and teasing touch soon having poor Rosemary in raptures.
Writhing and squirming like wrestling snakes water sluiced freely from the tub. Moaning in unimagined pleasures Rosemary was draped and dragged from the tub to what was her own bed where Miss Nightingale took her to the heights of ecstasy and beyond licking and sucking touching and teasing Rosemary screamed her delight and surrendered to her carnal desires.
In the cooling of their unbridled lust Rosemary looked weak eyed at her Mistress and pawed like a demanding pet at her shoulders.  Rosemary had never lain with another woman but the door to the pleasures of lesbian sex had not been just eased open but ripped from its hinges.
Miss Nightingale smiled down at her conquest stroking her fingers through Rosemary’s short hair.
“Well Rose what a naughty girl you are.”
Rosemary sighed and rolled onto her side clutching a pillow her body filled with a warmth of satisfaction she had never felt before and softly sighed.
“Yes Mistress.”
Miss Nightingale pushed herself up from the bed and walked to the drawers and closet. Rosemary joined her to watch her Mistress rummage through her lingerie collection selecting her best silk combinations and chemise a silk trimmed corset and fine Egyptian cotton petticoat joined the collection.  Miss Nightingale opened the closet and skimming across the rails removed a stunning gown and laid it by the underwear.  
“You may dress your Mistress now Rose”
Miss Nightingale stood passively whilst her maid dressed and caressed her into the silk underwear.
Her corset tightened the soft cotton petticoat shimmered over her and she stepped into the dress presented by her eager loved up maid.
Miss Nightingale fussed with her hair whilst Rosemary dressed back into her plain but smart maid’s uniform.
Rosemary was then dismissed to complete her preparations for the visit of Miss Stephenson.
Rosemary almost floated down the stairway into the kitchen, what had happened to her? What had she done? Had done to her? Her smile was broad from ear to ear she could not stop giggling to herself has she stirred and swished the bubbling pans. When Miss Nightingale appeared framed in the doorway of the kitchen wearing Rosemary’s finest dress Rosemary giggled and smiled blushing.
“You look lovely Mistress.”
Miss Nightingale smiled the control and obedience of her maid taken one step further.
“Thank you Rose, I will be in the Parlour when my guest arrives remember, a clean apron and cap and I expect your service to be perfect displaying all the skills you have been shown, don’t let your Mistress down.”
Rosemary practically doe eyed curtsied.
“Yes, Mistress.”


  1. An Appreciative ReaderFebruary 17, 2017 at 10:17 AM

    I love this story, simple as. Lovely contrast with old life - look forward to the next chapter :)

  2. Jackie, you made me chuckle twice in particular, from reading this episode, as the story gets in gear towards an anticipated societal coup d'├ętat for your lovely maid, Rose. Your choice of rhetoric for the aftermath of the bathtub caper was priceless, when you wrote, "...the pleasures of lesbian sex had not been just eased open but ripped from its hinges."

    Do we now detect that Rose is not just Miss Nightingale's mere maid anymore, but now one whom will become a fawning devotee for the distinctive pleasures Miss Nightingale can judiciously bestow upon her new sex toy Rose, whom will become gaga in anticipation, every day now.

    Btw, as an aside... Is it possible that Miss Nightingale and a Miss Jennifer Jacobs could be acquainted with one another, and who could have even exchanged... techniques? ;) [From another awesome story of your composition].

    Soon could it be appropriate for Miss Nightingale to offer Rose a throw-away comment to suggest that she have her short hair darkened?... In this case, to match the color of her uniform, and even have Rose choose that color, as "encouraged" by Miss Nightingale. [Then with her lacy cap in place, Rose's conservative depiction as a proper maid, could become a Stephenson standard of decorum]. :)