Story: What Annabella Wants Annabella Gets. Chapter 10.

by Jackie J

Having passed through a small village eventually the carriage rumbled up the drive to Sandowns. Not palatial like Buckshire manor and the grounds less extensive but still an imposing property. Lady Hogarth exited the carriage by the main entrance and her maid was told to stay on the carriage until collected and taken into the house. With Lady Hogarth welcomed in the doorway by a brute of a woman, who stared up at Annie, the carriage jolted forwards and made its way to the rear of the house.

Sat on the carriage for some time the woman she had seen welcoming her Mistress into the house with a warm smile appeared on the steps of the rear entrance with a different less welcoming expression and shouted up to her.

“Down girl let's be having you.”

Down off the carriage Annie stood in front of the woman at the bottom of the steps.

“So, you are Annie, Mistress told me about your troubles, well I judge as I see, keep your nose clean here girl or you will be out on your ear understand?”

Annie nodded giving little consideration to what her aunt had told this this woman about her “troubles”.

“Yes Miss.”

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 9-10.

by BigBird74

 9.

It was hard to adequately describe the feelings Dahlia experienced as she dragged the cheap polyester dress up her lithe, beautiful body. She had slowly removed the adornments one expects of a beautiful, rich woman: the expensive earrings, the tasteful layers of makeup lightly covered her face, her full mane of long blonde hair now tied up into a tight pony tail. Of course, Dahlia still looked better than 95% of other women, even in her natural state. Deep inside her own thoughts, she considered how a woman of her status, a cleaner that is and not a successful model, would act. That sent a spasm of pleasure shooting through her body. As did the next thought: “For this weekend, I will think of myself as Dahlia Western’s cleaner. I will be…. Petra.”

To those of us unaware of the doctor’s shenanigans, this would all appear a sudden epiphany. But that is to miss so much of what had happened the previous few weeks. The doctor had pumped Dahlia full of the idea that she yearned for anonymity. Dahlia’s desire to slowly fade away was a symptom of this and being a cleaner made that happen to sudden effect. While she was suggestive, he had also evoked the sexual eroticism that can be achieved by safely degrading oneself. What would be hugely embarrassing in public, might be highly enjoyable in private. Psychologically, she had been groomed for this moment and was totally unaware how her natural tendencies had been worked up into a frenzy. So it was only natural that, once dressed in her cleaner uniform, Dahlia felt an explosion of euphoria as though she were escaping all that fear and angst that had built up.

Now it is important to remember that Dahlia was not some kind of automaton. Hypnotherapy does not affect those unwilling to move in a certain direction, but it most certainly gives a big shove to those that are inclined towards that action. Her inhibitions had been lowered in a way one might see on a drunkard. The mind is still there, just many of its defences are lowered.

Story: Contracted. Chapter 1-4.

A story from a new contibutor, Anastasia Devereaux. The first four chapters, there is more to come. Hope you enjoy it. 

CONTRACTED

by Anastasia Devereaux

CHAPTER ONE: LUNETTE 

The message on the card was simple. “The usual coffee shop. 1 p.m. tomorrow. Arrive drag.” 

As he entered the coffee shop, Stewart fingered the card and flipped over the other side. He knew what was written there — it was his own business card, after all — but it always made him smile a bit. 

“Anastasia Devereaux Household Services: old-fashioned service, old-world respect,” it read. It sounded so pretentious when phrased that way, but then, a certain amount of formality was inherent to the game. “Sounds like a stripper name, or maybe a drag queen,” Lunette had told him years ago, when he first made the proposal.

In three years, he had not yet come up with a phrase to genuinely describe what he was doing. He didn’t consider himself transgender, not really — when not dressed up, he felt quite male — nor did he think of himself exactly as a crossdresser. “I’m a drag queen who does housework rather than perform onstage,” he’d once said, and that felt as accurate as anything else. “Sissy maid” was a term he’d encountered, but it felt … inadequate … to describe what this was. He wasn’t in this for humiliation; he genuinely liked living as a servant. He called Ana “my other face,” and that was as good as anything. 

Story: What Annabella Wants Annabella Gets. Chapter 9.

By Jackie J

Having spoken with Lady Hogarth Annie busied herself about her duties. Was this not the best outcome Annabella could have wished for? The question of inheritance had been settled, hadn’t it? Lady Hogarth far from challenging or ridiculing Annabella had been sympathetic, understood Annabella’s dark desires, she would say nothing, a secret between the two of them. Lady Hogarth had allayed Annabella’s expressed fears of truly losing her mind. Lady Hogarth knew Annie was her Niece Annabella and agreed to be Annie’s Mistress, to keep an eye on her sanity until her father returned. Emily could continue her own pretence, why not. Annabella chuckled to herself, Emily had always wanted to be like her and what a good Annabella she had become. Annabella, instead of dreading a further six months of her servitude now looked forward to the prospect of continuing to be Annie a lowly maid in the knowledge that Lady Hogarth would not let her truly lose her mind, for matters to go too far, has she had feared with a further six months of a servile existence. 

Having finished another chapter of her book Maud laid the book on the table and glanced out over the extensive of grounds of Buckshire manor. Maud’s daughter entering the room Maud turned and smiled.

“Annabella my dear, how pretty you look in that dress, take a seat I have something to discuss with you.”

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 7-8.

by BigBird74

7.

What was she doing here? The cool, dank room reeked of the lavender scent used to ward off moths. Dahlia only knew of this place as Petra’s expenses had included an invoice for a new uniform from this shop. The shopkeeper looked equally baffled. Dahlia felt antsy as he stared at her, plainly unsure of whether he knew her or not. 

“What did you say you wanted again?” He asked.

“A cleaner’s overalls and the dress that fits underneath,” she replied. “It is for my cleaner….” Dahlia stopped herself, reminding herself she had no reason to justify or explain anything.

“I see,” he nodded as he wandered off to find the attractive woman what she wanted. “And she is your size, you say?” He asked, slightly incredulous.

“Yes, that’s right,” Dahlia replied curtly and a little agitated.

After what seemed half an hour, though in reality little more than a couple of minutes, the shopkeeper returned with a cheap polyester cleaning smock. Long, grey and very drab looking would be how one would charitably describe it. The rough material had fine lines running from top to toe in a failed effort to impart some ‘fun’ into the dress.

Captions Sunday!

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Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 5-6.

by BigBird74

5

Sitting in waiting rooms can be a great form of therapy for the troubled mind. It forces a moment of quiet reflection as you watch the minutes tick by. So it was for Dahlia on another visit to the dreamy psychologist. As you may guess from that last sentence, Dahlia’s relationship with the Dr Jacobs had moved on, at least in her own mind. The pleasant fluttering in her stomach confirmed a hidden reason for her visits on top of wanting to get control over her anxiety attacks.

The previous few days had been difficult. Melissa’s fit of anger the other night was still raw, with both sisters forming an uneasy truce which had seen the normally pristine home descend into an untended anarchy. Neither wanted to seek a truce just yet and the situation was getting difficult. Just that morning Dahlia had almost – almost – broken and thought of clearing away the clutter.

Of course, she had considered just telling her sister to go. That was always an option after all. But something in her pulled her back from that particular place, opting instead to wait. After all, it is typically the threat of pulling a trigger that focuses minds, not actually doing it!

Bang on time, the doctor appeared, looking as handsome as ever. He could see from Dahlia’s pallid complexion that she was not in the best of spirits. That was only to be expected. He had learned a great deal from his sessions with her sister. At first he had been uncomfortable about taking her on as well. Dahlia was a rich client and a good paying one at that. He was sure he could earn enough out of her to keep him in clover for years and did not want anything to spoil it.

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 3-4.

by BigBird74

3.

Home at last! Travelling through the centre of town was never a good idea and late on a Friday afternoon was probably the very worst moment. Dahlia took a deep sigh of relief as her car wended its way up the hillside to her remote outpost atop one of the hills overlooking Barton. Hilltop was an exclusive kind of place. The grey, drab and overcrowded apartment blocks that predominated Barton’s heartlands gradually gave way to ever more greenery and wide expanses of countryside. Dahlia’s magnificent home was perched on the side of cliff face. Far below in the shallow below sat Barton, a slight haze sitting over it, the result mainly of traffic pollution but also natural weather patterns that conspired to keep the bad air down there, while up here, the air was crystal clear.

The house itself was massive and pristine. The whitewashed stone walls kept the building comfortably cool in the summer, while retaining its warmth in the winter. Nothing had been overlooked in the design of this palatial home. Dahlia had taken some credit for the munificence, but in reality her involvement had been as token as picking between one of three pictures displaying an artist’s rendition of how the place could look. Her heels clicked loudly on the solid stone floor as she slinked her way indoors, where her maid, Petra, was waiting for her.

Captions Sunday!

This time from a new contributor, Houseboy. Enjoy!

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