Story: The Secret Slave. Part 13.

by Camille Langtry

Elizabeth spent the rest of the day in a state of near panic as she contemplated the possible consequences of what had happened to Sophie. If there was any consolation it was that her secret slave was relatively safe given the circumstances. Caroline made it abundantly clear when she spoke to that nasty-looking overseer that she did not want Sophie marked or hurt excessively and Elizabeth could not imagine his disobeying his strict and demanding employer - it did seem that, like Philip and everyone else in this household, he would follow her orders unconditionally. Or so Elizabeth hoped.

Still, that did not prevent her from imagining potential horror scenarios. Indeed, so much could go wrong and Elizabeth was thinking over the possible repercussions again and again until she could think of nothing else.

Eventually she made up her mind. She had to do something to free Sophie as soon as possible. Caroline did promise she’d be let go tomorrow evening after another day in the fields, but even that seemed too long. That meant Sophie not only had to spend the night securely chained in some cabin but then work another full day in the searing heat of the summer sun. Even if everything went smoothly and she did everything she was told as best as she could, that was too much for someone who until a couple of weeks ago knew nothing about the duties even of a housemaid let alone the back-breaking work of a field-hand.

Story: Dancing With My Soul. Chapter 9.

by Andy Engines

“Lower”. The old woman critiqued me as I awkwardly lowered myself in a curtsey whilst holding the folds of my course skirt and crossing one leg behind the other.

Yesterday in the great house I had been dusting ornaments when a lady swept through the room. She glided saliently past me and it seemed to me that we existed in parallel universes. To her it appeared I didn’t exist. She entered and departed at the same speed, her eyes fixed ahead and head unmoving. I was invisible or so I thought. In the kitchen during our break there was a hubbub of chatter. Hearing my name dragged me from my thoughts and into the present.

“Marije, stupid girl.”

“Sorry.”

Story: New Employee. Chapters 32-33.

by BigBird74

32.

Two days elapsed before I next spoke to the Manageress. In that time, my life achieved as much normality as could be hoped for in the given circumstances. At times I even found myself getting used to the menial tasks that were now my primary occupation, occasionally exhibiting some pride in a clean floor or basin. It was sensible for me to obtain as many of a cleaner’s trade ‘secrets’ as I could. I learned what a bit of soda and vinegar could achieve when mixed with lemon, and the time it could save me.

What no-one told me was the effect it would have on my hands if I were not wearing gloves. The constant scrubbing and exposure to various bleaches, chemicals were ruining my hands. My nails were worn down past my fingertips. Small, rough callouses that would take months to rid myself off were appearing on my usually soft skin. The signs of decline were everywhere. My skin had managed to turn a few shades darker after its treatment and after a week had passed it showed few signs of wearing off or fading.

I certainly did not look myself. Gone was the fresh faced, young woman. In her place was a woman who looked tired, disheveled and robbed of much of her femininity. My legs and armpit were covered in stubble and I found myself powerless to stop this remorseless march to mediocrity, given that the Manageress now had all of Katherine’s belongings. While doubts continued to nag at the back of my mind, I had found the best way to ignore them was to set myself a limit. I thought I would not approach the Manageress for 3 days. In that time, I would become the maid I came here to be, forget all about Katherine and her life. After all? If things were to end badly, what could I do about it now? Nothing! I put aside my fears and dived into my life as Marta.

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 16.

by Jackie J

The clockwork mechanisms had run down when Miss Hutchings returned with Jess, they only ran for 15 minutes, more is the pity, but that fifteen minutes of unbridled stimulation will soon seem like an age for the captive mistresses when they are mechanically ravaged over and over again.

Jess was eager to see what was going on and asked again if she could remove the blindfold and see.

“One moment Jessica, remain there for me all will be revealed.”

Lady Downton, having had her first taste of the rhythmic strumming of her clitoris and by her own squirming, the length of the leather phallus working within her stared up at the smirking Miss Hutchings and the blindfolded maid, the blindfolded maid she recognised to be Jessica, Lady Florence Cranwell? 

Lady Downton helplessly bound in her harness felt the probing fingers of Miss Hutchings rewind the device strapped to her waist then smile flicking the switch. Lady Downton’s reaction was instantaneous, her eyes rolled, her body quivered and shook to the accompaniment of grunting moans, muted by the jaw brace.

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 15.

By Jackie J

But for Miss Hutchings intervention, during the one and only attempt to leave Stoneleigh, Jess would have been savaged beyond recognition by the dogs patrolling the outer wall. Any hope of leaving Stoneleigh and returning to her privileged life after that incident slowly drained from the maid being kept busy at her chores. The weeks turned into months following Jess’s betrayal by Lady Catherine, a betrayal that confirmed Lady Florence’s future to be nothing more than that of a house maid at Stoneleigh. 

The key eventually found, in Maud’s trinket pot by Miss Hutchings, Jess’s chastity belt had finally been removed and many nights she sought solace in the arms of and at the pleasure of Peggy and Cathy or on certain evenings, normally Friday, with Miss Hutchings. Miss Hutchings taking a special pleasure from knowing it was a Lady servicing her needs between her sheets.

Lady Downton was due another visit to Stoneleigh and on the Wednesday before her arrival Jess was helping Miss Hutchings with a rather heavy delivery from the blacksmiths.

“These are quite heavy Miss, what’s inside the sacking?”

Story: Maid in China. Part 4.

It's been well over a year, but here it is finally, the much anticipated follow-up to Maid in China!

by Barefoot Servant
           

Maddie balanced the serving tray on her left hand and summoned her courage. Inhale and she knocked on the bedroom door.

“Yes,” the two occupants—Jenny and Skye—answered in unison.

“Um,” Maddie stuttered, never previously having to ask permission to enter her friend’s room. Calm down Maddie. Just put yourself in Rosario’s shoes—or lack thereof. Do what she would do. Say what she would say. “I have breakfast. May I come in?”

“Of course, Maddie, come on in.” This time it was only Jenny’s voice.

Maddie reached for the door knob. The serving tray tottered, but did not fall. Maddie sighed relief and cautiously entered the room.

Jenny and Skye were sitting upright in the bed, backs against the headboard, whispering and giggling about something to which Maddie was not privy.

Maddie forced herself to smile. “Good morning ladies.”

“Good morning Maddie,” the two answered in unison.

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 14.

by Jackie J

Changed into her more decorative serving apron Jess returned to the kitchens and awaited her instructions. Cutlery gathered, tray in hand, she went to the dining room to prepare table. All perfectly set Jess sat in the Kitchen watching Lizzy prepare lunch for Lady Isabelle and her guests. What was happening, why had Lady Catherine not just thanked Lady Isabelle and taken her back to Cranwell? What did any of this have to do with the interfering Mary Downton, why had she got involved?

Lunch ready it was a dutiful maid that served lunch to the ladies. Lady Catherine, forcing herself not to giggle, watched a collared Lady Florence at work in her lacy apron bobbing curtsies and perfectly serving table. The ladies chatted whilst Jess stood attentive at the back of the room ever ready to serve their needs. A little more salmon a drop more wine before and after each action a respectful curtsy.

It was Lady Downton that held court around the table ensuring Jess could overhear her conversation which revolved mainly around Lady Florence, not all flattering. Why she would send a maid for training then disappear travelling leaving Lady Catherine to pick up the pieces, how selfish the women had been. Jess considered what was being said and what Lady Downton was saying, under normal circumstance would be true. 

Story: New Employee. Chapters 30-31.

by BigBird74

30.

A few days passed before the manageress called to see me again. Once or twice I had seen her in the distance, a blur of activity, hurrying off to one or other meeting. Sometimes I mistook someone else for her. Her usual attire, a tight skirt ending just above the knee paired with sharply heeled stiletto pumps reminded me of a strict headmistress. Whether or not that particular ensemble was chosen on purpose, the effect on me was instant and telling: tightness in my stomach followed by a warm, pleasurable glow below.

If the fear of being found out was draining, the terror of uncertainty was more so. A naturally submissive person, despite the years of privilege, I felt increasingly vulnerable and unable to take the initiative in any way. Of course, this must have been the effect desired by the Manageress: keeping me off balance and unable – or more likely – too scared to do anything to risk ruining herself. She had already started to act in the name of Katherine. That decision to extend Martha’s tenure with the hotel was the first instant. I fretted over her access to my email and all that could entail. But that was only the half of it. She also had my cards, identity cards, driving license. Barring one or two passwords and codes, she had almost everything she needed to become a virtual me. I was painfully aware that the codes to my bank account were the most important thing to keep secret now. Were I to surrender those, the consequences could be damning.

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 13.

by Jackie J

There was no tenderness in her tutoring, not the tender young giving flesh like with Cathy and Peggy but the slack hairy pussy of Miss Hutchings became her acquired taste. Jessica’s state of mind already weakened by her servile roll of maid at Stoneleigh made her easy prey for the skilled dominant Miss Hutchings. Strange that Lady Florence Cranwell would ever crave the taste of a housekeeper’s sex but for Jessica Thornberry, descending ever deeper into the life of a full blow submissive, her ritual worship of that sloppy shrine moved from an unpleasant but necessary chore to a want and finally to a need Jessica started to welcome and revel in her degradation at the hands of Miss Hutchings.

Miss Hutchings had informed Lady Downton of Jessica’s activities with Cathy and Peggy and of how she was grooming the little slut. Lady Isabelle, still unaware of who Jessica really was, showed surprise at how sanguine Lady Downton was about Miss Hutchings having use of the new maid that she had specially belted for her.

“I thought you would want to break in the new maid Mary you seemed keen when I told you about her?”

The Maids. Your turn, Ma'am!

Edwardian risqué comedy meets Jean Genet's eponymous play meets lady-to-maid/maid-to-lady (well, admittedly the latter's largely in my head) in this entertaining 5-minute short I stumbled upon. Love the accents and the uniforms!


The Maids from Adam Woods on Vimeo.

Subscribe to Lady2Maid Blog Newsletter

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 12.

by Jackie J

At breakfast, following the previous night’s introduction to the ways of lesbian love, Jess was the first to table. Lizzy served eggs and smiled.

“Colour in those pretty cheeks of yours this morning, missy”

Jess shyly smiled taking her plate there was colour in her cheeks there was colour in her mind and her whole body from her awakening, she had not felt like she did since, she had never felt like this. 

“Thank you Lizzy all is well with the world this morning.”

Cathy was the next to arrive in the kitchens quickly followed by Peggy and the girls sat either side of Jess. Cathy hutched close putting her hand on Jess’s apron covered thigh and giggled.

“Good Morning Jess how are you today?”

Story: The Secret Slave. Part 12.

by Camille Langtry and SW

The next day broke sunny and bright again and, after assisting her mistress to dress and serving at breakfast, Sophie was assigned to the large amount of laundry that had accumulated since the day before the party.

Along with Ruby, she spent almost the entire morning washing and hanging the clothes and bedding. Shortly after lunch - the day being so hot and the washing already dry - the housekeeper had sent her out to clear the drying lines and set aside the clothes for her to press in the kitchen's ante-room. This was a skilled task that Sophie hated as she was so inexperienced and slow, but having been firmly scolded by 'Miss Jane' for objecting to ironing during her first week at Cypress Hill she had nodded weakly and had been at her work table for just a few minutes when she felt one hand press hard upon her bottom and another squeeze her left breast: the rear door had been left open to allow a little cooling air in and Philip had crept quietly inside behind her when he had spied her busy at her work.

She started, let go of the iron and spun around:

“Oh! Massa Philip. Yo' give me an awfu' fright suh!” she exclaimed and he laughed and replied:

Story: Florence, Lady Cranwell. Chapter 11.

by Jackie J

It was laundry day at Stoneleigh and Maud was huffing and puffing, sorting laundry with steaming tubs around her. She turned to the cook.

“Look at this, Lizzy, Miss Hutchings brought these in for cleaning, velvet trousers and this bolero jacket they don’t need cleaning, I am just going to sponge the jacket. The trousers are fine.”

A tinkle on the stone floor and Maud stooped to pick up an ornate key that had fallen from the jacket's pocket.

Maud laughed.

“I thought that was money, Lizzy. It’s just a key.”

Cathy was sat at the table taking a well-earned rest from her morning's toil and her ears pricked up when Maud, inspecting the key, remarked on the ornate numbers embossed on it. The same numbers she had seen scribed on Jess’s belt. A shiver of excitement ran through Cathy. Maud busy at her work placed the key by the sink with some other less significant items that had been left in the pile of clothing she was preparing to laundry.