Story: Scrubbing His Record Clean. Chapter 4.

by Camille Langtry

I had no idea what to tell her in response. I was always the kind to avoid any conflict. Even when it was necessary to strike back I tended to prefer the way of surrender, something that other boys at my high school took advantage of, often to my utter embarrassment. So when I was pressed for an answer in such a direct and unconditional manner I was completely and utterly lost. She was looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and contempt, obviously expecting me to say something in my defence, even an apparent lie.

“I am sorry, I…” I’ve finally forced myself to speak, when I was unexpectedly saved by a colleague of mine, who entered the office, ending our uneasy tête-à-tête with Nicole.

“Hey, David, how are you doing this fine morning?” Raymond, my desk neighbour to the right came in earlier than normal.  I have to admit I’ve never been this happy to see that idiot. Raymond was about my age, but already balding and about 40 kilograms overweight. He would always annoy me with his unfunny anecdotes and boring stories about his family vacations and other life events I could not care less about.

“Hello, Raymond,’’ I responded and pretended that I had just finished talking with Nicole. “And thank you, Nicole, for cleaning under the desk for me, sorry for interrupting you earlier.”

She looked at me, that predator smile on her pretty face again, and leaned very close to my ear, whispering: “Consider yourself lucky for now, boy. But we are not over yet. Meet me in the lobby after my shift is over at noon. And don’t you dare not show up. Unless you want everyone to know, that is. ”

Story: China Maid.

Mana Ray, whose work at Erotic Mind-Control Archive I've mentioned earlier, sent me a long excerpt from her ongoing story she's publishing on her Patreon page. It's inspired by the (yet) unfinished story on this blog, Maid in China. The chapter dwells on Alice's new life, her social drop and degradation, in particular on how she's forced to serve her former friends. There are several chapters before this one and several are to follow.

It wasn't until 4AM that Farrah and Alice left Jocelyn's room, and the girls were so bone-tired that they didn't even play with each other's feet after they got into their shared bed.

As Alice peeled off her stockings, she contrasted her own situation with Jocelyn's. Her employer was asleep in bed, having showered and received a lengthy massage while Alice was covered in foot creme and debris that women had rubbed into her uniform. Bits of dust fell from her maid's tunic as she undid all the buttons – the same dust she had painstakingly swept from the Zuang's floor on her hands and knees. With profound relief Alice removed the painful new heels she once coveted, knowing that she would probably have to put on yet another stiff leather pair tomorrow.

Even standing on a carpet felt like a luxury to the girl now, a small taste of something she used to take for granted. For a moment she rested and thought of her old life. It seemed like an incredibly long time ago that she sat at the same table with all her friends. How could it feel like she had been working for Jocelyn for so long? Hadn't it only been like three days?

Story: Scrubbing His Record Clean. Chapter 3.

by Camille Langtry

I still do not understand what got into me then, but I quickly removed my business suit and shirt and put them away, staying only in my underwear. I should have been thinking about my wife leaving me and the inevitable problems that were bound to arise sooner rather than later (what will happen to our house? how will we split our savings and mortgage payments? what shall I tell our friends if anything? shall I hire a lawyer?), but instead all I could think of was that black and white uniform. 

Perhaps, it was just my mind’s protective response as it refused to dwell on the hard questions that I could not answer, at least for now. Oddly, trying on this maid’s dress somehow seemed the right and timely thing to do. Just to put myself at rest. Just to relax and forget about the problems currently at hand.

Let me digress just a little. I’ve always considered myself straight. I was a bit on the “creative” side when it came to sexual intercourse - something that always irritated Danielle, who would outright refuse to do anal, or to go down on me, or even experiment with various adult toys that I bought - but all in all I’ve never thought that I had much of a feminine side to me. My adult interests were solely those of a man. I was just a regular guy with somewhat peculiar fetish tastes.

Story: Scrubbing His Record Clean. Chapter 2.

by Camille Langtry

I knew that it was bad news when I entered the house and saw my wife, Danielle, sitting alone in our small living room, clearly waiting for me. She was never the smiley kind, but her expression was one of extreme disappointment or even anger. Obviously, I had done something very wrong. My initial reaction was that it was something minor - Danielle was always a bit of a drama queen, who loved to make me feel guilty even when I absolutely did nothing to deserve it. In our four years of marriage, I'd got used to it and learned to deal with her touchiness and manipulations.

Then I saw my mobile phone on the desk in front of her. I left it in the kitchen this morning as I was getting ready for work. As it turned out, this simple act of forgetfulness changed my life forever. 

“Hello, you are early today,’’ I said, still hoping against hope that it was something minor like me not taking the garbage out or not paying utility bills on time.

Danielle didn’t answer and just pointed her long finger at my phone: “Can you explain this, David?”

“Explain what, dear?” I responded quietly. No, this can’t be. She didn’t check my phone. She couldn’t. She wasn’t like that. Damn.

“Explain what?!” she said bitterly and stood up, beautiful and furious. She was almost as tall as me and I immediately felt intimidated by her aggression. “You know WHAT, you pervert!! How could you do this to me?!”

Story: Scrubbing His Record Clean. Chapter 1.

I would like to thank everyone who'd bought my new book, Her Most Remarkable Performance. While I am extremely pleased with the reception it has received, it also means I am under additonal pressure to deliver. While my next book I begin publishing today is different - for one, it's a TG story so it's not strictly "lady-to-maid" - it shares most of the elements you can find in my first novella - detailed social and cultural drop, relinquishing of status, de-education. Not to mention lots of cleaning. The new book will go live relatively soon and before then I'd publish several chapters here.

Scrubbing His Record Clean: From Manager to Office Cleaner

by Camille Langtry

Chapter 1

It was 8:00 am and, as part of my shift, I’d spent the past two hours cleaning the corridors and foyer of one of the new large office buildings in Kirchberg. It was a daily routine I'd become accustomed to over the past couple of months, ever since I'd fully recovered from my surgery: get up at 4 in the morning, a very quick bite to eat, an even quicker walk to the Metz train station to grab the 4:48 train to Gare de Luxembourg, a bus to Kirchberg, to arrive a mere 15 minutes before my 6 am shift with barely enough time to change into my cleaning uniform.

I’ve always been an early riser, but even for me, this schedule was increasingly tough. I had tried finding other options, but they all started much later and clashed with my second cleaning shift over at the Auchan shopping centre. Furthermore, the early morning office building shift paid 20 Euros an hour, not the standard 15 Euros that most other places did. With Vincent out of work for the past year, it would have been criminal to lose that extra income, even if that meant being tired and sleepy a lot of the time. So I took the bullet, did my two shifts like a good girl and returned to our small rented apartment in Metz, where Vincent was eagerly waiting for me to cook his dinner.

Story: New Employee. Chapters 18-19.

by BigBird74

18.

I had not counted on a potentially hostile manager. One reason I chose this particular hotel, apart from being out of the way, was its supposedly genial and pliant manager. Something had obviously gone wrong and would have to be careful of this new woman, who obviously did not like head office butting into her local business. I was already tired by the time I had finished scrubbing the floor of the toilets and was expecting some kind of break, when Linda told me that I was expected in the laundry room. It looked like I was to get no relief from this onslaught of menial tasks. For the first time, I truly felt what being trapped felt like and my powerlessness to do anything about it. My life had been one of privilege, opportunity and choice. The best education money could buy had underlined the status gained through unearned privilege. But not in this scenario. Here I was in a trap of my own making. That said, I comforted myself thinking that there was still an open door. I could just walk out and never come back again.

For a moment, I let that thought circulate in my head. Perhaps I am getting in too deep and I need to run while I can? Still the downsides to running were many and deep: who would get blamed? Most probably me! What if someone looked into the bogus scheme and saw all the lies I had concocted? My god, were someone to actually lift the lid on this whole idea, I could be ruined. My stomach ached. This time not from that delicious flutter of uncertainty and humiliation, but from a sudden bout of anxiety. No, running could prove very costly, I would have to try and see this out as Marta!

Her Most Remarkable Performance is OUT!

After months of back and forth I've finally overcome my writer's block and published my e-book, Her Most Remarkable Experience.

I've spent more time on this novella than I probably should have both because of my inherent laziness and my tendency to over-research everything.  I've read hundreds of pages on the 1880s - from fashion, shopping, and wages to music and theatre, not to mention household management and servants. A lot of the details in this book are as historically accurate as was possible and, if you are familiar with the period, you will have no difficulty recognising some of the situations, names and even occasional words and phrases. There are also literary references thrown around that I am not going to spoil for you.

This is the first book I've published and I hope you enjoy it. I've tried to write a definitive lady-to-maid story I personally could enjoy reading and it's only you, dear readers, that can judge if I've succeeded.

I have created a My Books folder on top, which I intend to update in coming months.

You can order the book from Amazon (e-book and paperback) and from Smashwords. Please leave a review if you like it and don't hesitate to contact me directly or leave comments here.

Story: New Employee. Chapters 16-17.

by BigBird74

16.

I enjoy putting staff in their place. Though I was new to this job and still had a great many things to learn, I felt that my naturally authoritative manner made me ideal for handling a large gaggle of women, none of whom seemed to have the slightest ambition or capacity for creative thinking. I know, I am being mean. But dealing with that group made me feel that they simply could not cope without me. How often had I been called upon to settle their petty squabbles and rivalries? Even among the lowest of my employees, I watched how cleavages would form between various groups. The job of a good manager, or so I thought, was to exploit these for the good of the company, or at least myself.

I smiled as I remembered putting that new maid firmly in her place. A day of cleaning the toilets and stairs would soon send the signal that I thought very little of her, even though she had received a commendation. The guy I had replaced was in thrall to head office and had jumped at the chance to be noticed. I was no such fool. Initiatives like the one involving that maid usually failed, though one could not be seen to actually oppose them. No, I had plans and ambitions of course, however one did not have to actively help either.

Story: Klavdia Kuznetsova. Chapter 3.

by Violet Carson

Chapter 3

The two weeks raced by. Klava heard from the letting agents that some Chinese tenants had been found for her house on the condition that they could stay for 12 months rather than the 6 she had initially hoped for. After careful consideration and considering that they hadn’t questioned the price she agreed. After all, if she didn’t want to remain in her new lowly paid status beyond the 6 months she initially planned she had money in the bank and was going to hide away enough means of accessing additional funds if need be. As much as she wanted to escape the trappings of wealth she wasn’t about to jump head first without some kind of parachute!

She had been in touch with the seedy Bill McDonald on behalf of her “cousin” Klava and had been able to provide enough documentation for her to be added to Andrews’s payroll. He had assured her that Klava would receive the minimum wage and that within a week she would have work at a university campus. Klava thanked him and felt relieved by the timing as this would give her a full week in her new flat to immerse herself completely in Klava’s new world.

Story: New Employee. Chapters 14-15.

by BigBird74

14.

I sat gazing at the locker in front of me. I had just a few minutes before my supervisor would return and I had some difficult decisions to make. Though at first things had started out pretty much as expected, today was not proceeding according to plan. After leaving the hotel I had gone for some breakfast and then taken the cab ride to the hotel, which sat on the edge of town. The changes in my social ‘status’ were quickly becoming apparent. While not staring too much, it was clear that people had noticed the brown girl walking down the street. In the restaurant I was sat towards the back of the dining room, just a coincidence maybe, but I was hypersensitive to anything that felt ‘different’, reflecting any potential shift in my. Was it me? Or did the waitress seem almost bothered to be dealing with me? No smile. None of the pleasant chit-chat to which I was accustomed. Perhaps she was always like that?

Either way, my own sense of who I was and how I should behave was in tremendous flux and my hands almost shook as I reached for my knife and fork. It felt good to eat. I was hungry, but also food often acted as a great source of comfort to me and, right now, I was in need of a little hug. As I ate, I caught my reflection in a side mirror, making me to a brief double-take. Taken in isolation, my short, cropped hair would have been enough to startle me, but the cheap clothes and of course dark skin marked me out for all to see.

Story: A Maid for Malangton Hall. Chapters 13-14.

by Jackie J

Chapter 13

Everything prepared for Miss Stephenson’s dinner party the first carriage drew to a halt at the entrance of Malangton Hall.  Out stepped the reverend Jacob Jackaby, the vicar of the parish and his companion for the evening the church organist Miss Rothermere. Reverend Jackaby had never particularly liked Mrs Worthington’s lifestyle believing that a widow should not be so overtly happy and travel unaccompanied but, with a restrained tolerance, had always been grateful of her generous offerings at Sunday services.

In view of his already ingrained prejudice toward the merry widow the reverend needed little convincing by Miss Stephenson of Mrs Worthington’s financial demise when they met earlier in the week. Gratefully accepting the invitation of Miss Nightingale, the new Mistress of Malangton hall, to dinner, he was anxious to see how the vivacious Mrs Worthington was coping in her new position of housemaid. The spinster Miss Rothermere did not just dislike Mrs Worthington she actually despised her for her wealth and good looks and could not wait to see her having been reduced to the lowly status of housemaid.

Rosemary, having changed into a clean pristine uniform answered the door when the large bell rang. Expecting the first arrival to be Miss Stephenson Rosemary stood back a little shocked seeing the village vicar and his organist stood on the threshold?

Story: A Maid for Malangton Hall. Chapters 11-12.

by Jackie J

Chapter 11

It was Wednesday afternoon whilst cleaning and polishing in one of the reception rooms that Rosemary was to be taken deeper into her subjugation by her Mistress.

Already submissive to her Mistress's needs in the bed chamber Rosemary had been warned many times of the consequences a strictly supervised Stephenson’s maid would face should she falter in her tasks. Rosemary was found by Miss Nightingale scrubbing at a large ingrained piece of beeswax, she had inadvertently trodden into one of the rugs.

Miss Nightingale stood in the doorway her expression stern her tone authoritative the wooden spanking paddle in her hand.

“Well Rose what is this mess you have made, I have warned you several times what “encouragement” would be applied to a Stephenson’s maid have I not?”

Rosemary stared at the paddle saying nothing.

Story: Klavdia Kuznetsova. Chapter 2.

by Violet Carson

Chapter 2

Two weeks had passed since the official sale of Andrews Facilities Management and Klava as she was forcing herself to believe she was again lay awake as the morning sun streamed through the curtains of her large bedroom. She had agreed to go into the office most days for the next two weeks to assist in the handover to the new owners and after that as far as they and her former employees were concerned she was returning to Russia for a few months to catch up with long lost family members. This would create enough of a cover for her to re-emerge as Klava the humble East European cleaner.

She looked around her room at the half packed boxes stacked ready for storage and the first items of her new down-market wardrobe.

At the weekend she had gone out wearing her oldest jeans, a cheap T-shirt and an old pair of trainers that she hadn’t worn in an age and visited one of London’s street markets that as Claudia she would never have even considered as a shopping destination.