Captions Sunday!

An excellent entry from a new contributor, Jennifer Eccles. This picture begged to be captioned of course.

Well I must say, you don't look too happy or grateful. I think you're very lucky to be able to keep a roof over your heads. You should be thankful that the court ordered you to remain in the house to work off some of the debt.

The new owner is very wealthy and has paid cash for the property, with all fixtures and fittings, but this still leaves an appreciable amount still owing. Therefore, as your food, clothing and other daily needs will be provided, your weekly wage will be paid directly to the court. But you have, very generously, been permitted to keep two shillings per week to cover any sundry expenses you might have. Unfortunately, as menial staff are only paid a pittance, the debt reduction will be a very slow process for you, so the court order is for a minimum period of two years, when they will reconsider your positions.

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 4.

by Jackie J

Chapter 4

William was expected to arrive from his visit to see relatives mid-morning and Jennifer ensured that her maid would be kept busy. Beating the many rugs was a heavy and monthly task, another addition to Maud’s rota.

The last two weeks, whilst William had been away, Sam, a local farmers son, had been attending the horses and keeping the grounds tidy. Jenny had hardly seen him, but he had done a good job, and everything was in order.

After taking breakfast Jennifer waited for William at his cottage situated at the end of the drive leading up to the manor. Her timing was perfect and she did not have to wait long seeing William step down from the coach that had brought him, gather his case, and walk towards her.

“Hello, Jenny. Sunday’s best on a Saturday! My, you do look handsome. A new dress?”

Captions Sunday!

Three very different mini stories from Dolores Azul! 

Young Lady Whitshire’s Drastic Downfall

I just don’t know if I made a horrible mistake or if I’m the luckiest woman alive. If I’m NOT lucky, then I made several horrible mistakes—and I inflicted them all on myself! The desire to drop down can strike anyone—it doesn’t seem to be inherited—and the higher I was, the more delicious and irresistable the fall!

In order to go from Lady of the Manor—a very young Lady of the Manor—with an estate of hundreds of acres of meadows and forest, and a 36-room mansion, to maid in your own house—takes a co-conspirator. Agnes, the head of the household staff, was mine. She thought I was daft, but a daft woman’s money speaks as eloquently as money from a ‘sane’ woman! I paid her very well, because unbeknownst to everyone but me I was willing to spend so much of it—to enjoy my “journey!”

Announced to all, I was going on “holiday” for three months. But instead of going to Antibes or Venice, or even just to Paris, I went where nobody knew me: the outskirts of Camden, New Jersey in America! I went with nothing but one suitcase of the cheapest housedresses with one aim in mind: to make myself so fat that even my relatives wouldn’t recognize me! With only my location-disguised internet connection to keep me company, I ate and ate, to the point of discomfort, to stretch my stomach capacity! After three months I gained 3 and-a-half stone—not enough! I cabled home to announce I was enjoying myself so much, I was staying for another three months. I wanted to come back gaining at least six stone—I would have to keep quite seriously eating! By the time my holiday was up, the scale in my room said I’d gained 82 pounds. Close enough! The day before flying home I had my hair cut in front in bangs. With my hair also bleached, my extra weight, and no makeup I hoped no one would recognize me.

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 3.

Chapter 3

Stag Head Manor was not overly large. The ground floor, a parlour, a study, a library, two reception rooms, a dining room, kitchens, the maid’s accommodation adjoining the kitchens. A wide staircase leading from the long hallway to the upper floor. A master suite and four guest rooms, the latter seldom used. Attics and cellars for storage but nothing more. The late Lord Summerfield’s wealth had enabled the modernisation of the property which benefited from a central boiler for heating and hot water, and gas lighting. Stag Head Manor was not difficult for one competent maid to provide service for.

During the previous week, when Lady Summerfield took the apron, her maid had prepared a rota for her daily duties. It was only to be for a week so there were many omissions, which Jennifer was now revising. No different to Jennifer’s own rotas, along with additional daily duties, weekly and monthly tasks were now to be included in the maid’s work. Jennifer would not burden her maid with the extra work immediately and would introduce these to her schedule over the coming weeks.

Jennifer, like her mother before her, had been in service from an early age and had been taught well. The instilled mantra from those formative years being to ensure that each task was completed in a timely manner, sticking strictly to the rotas prepared for the household. A good maid never took to her bed before all the day’s work had been completed. This discipline had served Jennifer well. What was good for her will be good for the new maid.

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 2.

by Jackie J

Chapter 2

The first morning of her second week, Constance waited for her maid, her Mistress, to take breakfast. She had been a busy bee that morning, up early putting pen to paper with her plans. A letter to the bank, one to her attorney, some notes to her close friends and of course the one to her maid.

Her Mistress was late, the previous week she had been out on the terrace much earlier than this. She would have seen the letter and read it. Perhaps Constance had misjudged the whole situation? What if her maid had decided not to follow her lead? Not willing to proceed? She had been clear in her letter: Lady Summerfield was away travelling, leaving Jennifer, her maid, in charge, confirming her the Mistress of Stag Head Manor. Maud was just a maid, a new maid.

Maud returned to the kitchen convinced she had frightened her maid, gone too far, ruined everything too much too soon. Was it necessary, doing what she had? Constance had thought all the risk her own, putting herself into the hands of her maid like she had. With what had happened the previous week, Constance never gave a thought that the opportunity for such total control of her Mistress would be too much for her maid. All her contrivance would seem to have been for nothing.

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 1.

by Jackie J

Chapter one

A light knock on the bed chamber door and the neatly dressed maid entered, a tray in hand. A respectful curtsy and a warm smile.

“Your early morning tea, Mistress.”

Jennifer arranged herself on her pillows and returned the smile.

The maid, having placed the tray by the bed, walked across to the windows and drew back the drapes.

“Thank you, Maud, it looks a lovely morning, I will take breakfast on the terrace. And lay out my blue day dress for me.”

The maid stood attentive at the foot of her Mistress's bed.

“Yes, Mistress. Will there be anything else?”

Jennifer took her first sip of the tea.

“No, Maud, that is all. You can go about your duties, girl.”

The maid located her Mistress's blue day dress and hung it in the dressing room along with underwear, hosiery and shoes. The Mistress only required assistance with dressing with more formal attire. Maud could wear any of the clothes hung in the closet, her mistress and herself being of the same size and figure, but she was just the maid, so how could she?

Halloween Demotion

A little Halloween treat from AndiJF. Based on a girl's magazine comic from the 1960s (that were quite heavy on "light downgrade" content, such as an old favourite The Imposter). 

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Captions Sunday: Good Intentions

Courtesy of AndiJF

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Story: It Was No Joke, Was It?

By Jackie J

Chapter 1

It would be fun, gate crashing the party, and it was. The evening drawing to a close, Elizabeth sat with her friend and they both giggled at each other’s outfits that they had worn to the fancy- dress ball at the palatial home of Lady Singleton. Most of the other guests had left when Lady Singletons housekeeper approached them and smiled at Elizabeth.

“Can you come with me please.”

Elizabeth turned in her seat to face her friend and shrugged her shoulders before standing and facing the tall housekeeper.

“What is it, what do you want, nothing wrong is there, we were just about to leave, are we the last?”

Maud smiled again looking Elizabeth up and down.

“Follow me please.”          

Lady Singleton was sat in the parlour, a weeping maid stood by her side. Elizabeth was ushered into the parlour and stared at the tearful maid, recognising her from earlier in the evening.

“What is it what’s wrong?”

A stern -faced Lady Singleton stood and walked slowly towards Elizabeth.

Captions Sunday!

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By Way of a Change (1902)

Dear readers, sorry for the long silence. I am well and still very much interested in our favourite topic, it's just that real life (I know, that's a lame excuse, but what I can say?) and, I won't lie, laziness keep interfering. Anyway, a very interesting find. I am a huge fan of Victorian- and Edwardian-era prints and repeatedly used them for captions in this blog. Work by Charles Dana Gibson, the father of the famous 'Gibson Girl', has always held a special place in my heart. Surprisingly, I'd never come across this interesting 1902 print titled "By Way of a Change" before.  Many of Gibson's prints feature maids, but none unfortunately could be interpreted as lady-to-maid. This is probably the closest we can get. My spoiled mind keeps inventing the story behind it, but obviously it's something as innocent as this real-life masters and servants hotel role swap I did a post on. I am also somewhat reminded of this Edwardian postcard, How Would You Like to Be the Maid?   

Anyway, what do you think is happening here? 

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Story: The Intoxication of Servitude. Chapters 1-4.

by Jackie J

Chapter 1

Jennifer had been friends with Elizabeth for many years. It was a good relationship which worked well Jennifer being quite dominant and Elizabeth passive if not considered a closet submissive. Jennifer did not bully Elizabeth but did take advantage of her which in truth Elizabeth quite enjoyed.  In her working environment Elizabeth had to present the façade of a strong persona but coveted those in more subordinate roles. Some of those with strong personalities, who worked for her, contriving to exploit what they saw to be her weakness, having their boss do work for them. Something that had not gone unnoticed by one of the directors.

Jennifer’s relationship with Elizabeth was platonic although she had longed for it to be more and had hoped that one day it would be. Jennifer was very protective of her friend and often made a joke of what a good wife Elizabeth would make. Things had changed for Elizabeth recently and now an even bigger change for the two friends was about to take place.

Are you really going to Elizabeth, it is a big step, I hope you know what you are doing? From what you have told me it is all a little vague. 

Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 8-9.

by Jackie J

Chapter 8

Five months had passed since they had first set sail and clearing the docks the party of Lady Drake hugged. It had not been the most pleasant of sailings for the last part of their journey home, but they were all save on dry land now. Lady Drake had business to attend in London with the banks and bid farewell to her travelling companions, Lord and Lady Stokes and the company accountant, Cecil Browning.

Deeds and share certificates needed to be deposited at the bank and Gwendoline was anxious to know what carnage her profligate step- daughter had caused with the family finances whilst she had been away. Leaving the bank, Gwendoline retained a degree of disbelief and smiled, deposits outweighed withdrawals, by a considerable amount. Spending had been rather frugal. A large withdrawal two days after she left but not excessive and a similar amount two days ago, but the rest of the withdrawals, small amounts in line with the household budgets Mrs Dillon ran. Hardly anything, in fact nothing from the salons, drapers, jewellers, high end fashion houses, café’s, travel? How extraordinary she thought? Lady Drake had expected to be met by the debris left by a tsunami of Caroline’s reckless spending but nothing, nothing at all.

Her letters had not been answered, not that she expected them to be, she had been travelling extensively around her late husband’s global interests and it could be that mail got lost or is still following her trail. Two weeks spent in London with her friend, in contrast to the hustle and bustle of her travel, allowed her to relax and prepare for her return to Longwater. Cecil Browning had agreed to escort Lady Drake from London to her estate and duly arrived promptly. 

Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 6-7.

by Jackie J

Chapter 6

A lathered steaming horse, with its saddle removed, edged into its stall and a long- cloaked figure headed into the rear entrance of Clegg Hall. Breathless from a hard five- mile ride Abigail stripped off her boots, jacket and jodhpurs and thrust herself under the sheets of her bed. She knew Caroline was at Longwater, she just knew she was. Having grown up with Caroline and spent many days at Longwater she knew the manor intimately, every entrance and passage. Games of hide and seek with Caroline, over their younger years, leaving little of Longwater manor unexplored.

The adrenalin, that had driven her back to Clegg Hall, dissipating in her system Abigail laid on her bed staring up at the ceiling, her eyes filled with questioning worry. What to do, who to tell? What was she doing, is doing? Bella? Bella, that was Caroline and no mistake. Her hair was short, very short and wearing a maid’s uniform? she was scrubbing the hallway, actually down on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor?  And that other maid, shouting at her? Caroline’s voice, squeaky and the way she spoke? Oh, my goodness, what has happened to her? Abigail could not help but nervously chuckle to herself. Caroline Drake of all people, a maid? She should have done something, said something, but what? 

Having found her way unseen to Caroline’s rooms, hoping to find her there, she had heard a raised voice on the ground floor. Creeping to the end of the landing and stood at the top of the stairs she had peered down and that is when she saw what she had. Abigail had stood transfixed by the spectacle below, Caroline Drake in a maid’s uniform, a Longwater manor maid’s uniform, scrubbing the hallway tiles being berated, and called Bella, by a common maid. Begging the maid in a strange squeaky voice not to tell Mrs Dillon, her own housekeeper, that she had tipped her bucket? Hearing more voices, and fearful of being discovered, Abigail had hidden and waited for what seemed an age before climbing back out of the window through which she had entered Longwater. Confused, angry, perplexed it was now dark and Abigail having walked her horse stealthily through the back bushes jumped on its back and rode like the wind into the night.

Captions Sunday!

I’ve been accused of many things, none of them are true; but my career in medicine is gone. Well, not totally gone...I guess I’m technically still in the medical field... 

I researched ways to combat and reduce the severity of the COVID virus. I NEVER claimed—ever—to have a CURE. What I researched, tested, and discovered was a suite of nutrients, and substances naturally occuring in the body that not only made you healthier, but reduced the SYMPTOMS of COVID until you never even feel sick at all. Yes, you’ll still NEED a vaccine, you still need to quarantine, but not only would the virus NOT KILL YOU, but you would barely feel ill! 

I had six months worth of double-blind testing! The results I got were NOT FAKE! But I think, on instruction from pharmaceutical corporation higher-ups (I will never be able to prove this), I was thrown into enforced quarantine-isolation for one month, I was officially declared “Deceased from COVID-19” and I have only been allowed back into the world of regular community and commerce if I accepted the latest form of “COVID Passport” which overrides the life and identity I’ve had for sixty years—even down to replacing my Social Security Number! No longer able to research scientific AND innovative ways to make people healthy, no longer the peer of my former hospital and university colleagues, no longer equal to the most skilled surgeons, I have been reduced to being a scrub in a hospital!

Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 4-5.

by Jackie J

Chapter 4

The first four weeks of Miss Caroline’s re-education were predicably harsh, brutal, demeaning and both humbling and humiliating. A snap of Miss Caroline’s fingers and a scowl had provided for her every whim now she begged for the most basic of her needs, all her needs.

Much to the amusement of Miss Prentice Jenny had not tired of the bullying of her once Mistress and dressing her in her frilly juvenile attire. The use of the cane and strap had become less frequent over time just its threat and harsh words now bringing total compliance to the accepted rituals of her childlike existence within the confines of Longwater manor. Such had been the brutalisation of Miss Caroline just a glare from Miss Prentice bringing an instant cowering, head lowered curtsy, from Bella. Yes Bella, a name chosen by Miss Prentice to be more fitting and one that had been, and continued to be, ingrained into the increasing fragile mind and nervous confused persona of Miss Caroline Drake, the once would be Mistress of Longwater manor.

Three weeks into Miss Caroline’s torment, Miss Prentice, satisfied the surly madame was compliant, began the next stage of her scheme. Dressed as always, in her pretty frills, her hair in ribboned pigtails Bella was sat at the desk Miss Prentice had prepared in one of the rooms on the top floor of the manor.

Instructed to, and holding out her left hand, Bella sighed with relief when her Mistress worked open the strapping on her wrist and tugged free the false hand. The bruising and swelling from her dislocated thumb had gone but the prime disfigured digit sat awkward across her palm.

Captions Sunday!

I was born in Oakland, California, but you wouldn’t know that, if you saw how my family has been treated for the last three years. Being Asian and a woman I thought the “Glass Ceiling” was obstacle enough.

Now, being Asian is an Occupational Hazard, and being an Asian Woman means regressive types target you—literally target you with guns—as CARRIERS OF DISEASE!

I was also an executive in the hotel business, but you wouldn’t know that to look at me now, either.

A general who doesn’t visit the front lines never gets the real news. One of our hotels, in a city I’ve never visited, had morale problems. They sure “smelled” like morale problems: compared to our other hotels, average length of employment was less than seven months! Our other hotels average three years! I’m no general, but time for this officer to visit the battlefield! Unlike most of my colleagues I’m willing to get dirty to “dig up the dirt”! I hired on as a housecleaner—yes, to avoid detection I actually took the job—and found out quickly what the problem was.

The reason morale was down, was because—I won’t soften the blow—the manager of this branch was a racist jerk, and he thought the Asian housekeepers under him were....unclean!

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapter 56.

by BigBird74

56.

Katherine had worked long into the night preparing the reception room for Dahlia’s big press conference. Carefully chosen flowers lined the sides of the room, placed strategically so they would show up clearly behind where Dahlia would sit. Katherine had always believed that, with sufficient care and attention paid to surroundings, it was possible to sway the sympathies of those in attendance. Her job had been made easier by the fact that Dahlia was looking her very best. After all, the public likes beautiful people. Katherine could only marvel at how trim and perfectly turned out Dahlia was after all those months recovering from her ‘breakdown.’ That word – breakdown – had been carefully selected by Tommy, again, to elicit a large dollop of sympathy. Drug use was still a complicated issue as far as public opinion was concerned, with a wide range of opinions, from those likely to have also indulged in the forbidden to those whose moral compass would never permit such abandon. Katherine knew, in our age of constant media, that playing the victim card would be best. It was therefore crucial that everything about the event played its part in conveying such an image.

It did not help that the cleaner seemed to be distracted, her mind clearly elsewhere. More than twice, Katherine had caught ‘Petra’ staring at the podium that was to elevate Dahlia back to her former glory, deep in thought. She had brushed off the fat slob’s excuses and firmly reminded her that the hallway and reception room must be spotless by 11am when the various guests were to arrive. It was only after the third time of telling that something finally shifted inside of ‘Petra’ and the next time Katherine checked on her, she was busy mopping the marble floor.

Checking her watch, Katherine could see that Tommy was due to arrive at any moment. Of the many men in her life, Tommy was, by far, the one she cared for most. Their relationship was purely platonic, but grounded on a real affection formed over many years of working together. Tommy had always looked out for Katherine and sent various projects her way. But Dahlia was something special. Until the ‘incident’, she had been Tommy’s prized client and he was understandably nervous about where he stood with her. Now, given what amounted to a second chance, he wanted nothing to go wrong and had asked Katherine, as a safe pair of hands, to take the job of assisting Dahlia.

Story: Severe Housecleaning Vacation.

by Dolores Azul

Social downgrade has one great boon, and another huge downside. The great boon is: if you are the sort of person who needs it, who craves it, it keeps you vital, young, and alive! I almost pity my fellow executives who age so quickly because they are fighting so hard, every day, to stay On Top of Things. If those “things” they stay “on top of” are 5G cell phones, they're 5G cell phones; if “those things” are multi-level marketing of Non-Fungible-Objects—that’s what you have to focus on, Brother! Move it, move it!

No, I’m not saying I don’t pay attention—or can’t keep up! I’m saying I have (or, I HAD) a way to de-stress, that my colleagues....don’t. But it does have a downside: you need increasing doses of social downgrade to get you the same “high” you got when you first found out What You Are. Sometimes the dose you end up taking is so big that you can’t climb back out! I knew I was taking LOTS of risks, but I thought I covered everything. 

Well, no...I didn’t. 

Story: The Bridal Shower

by Inanimate77 

Leah’s eyes lit up wide as the Uber driver dropped her off at the Davenport Estate.  In all her life, she had never seen such an opulent display of money and power.  From the first day Leah had met her roommate Charlotte, she was aware that the girl came from immense wealth.  The Davenports were one of the richest families on the entire East Coast.  Charlotte’s attendance at the elite private university, that both girls attended, was all over the news as everyone tried to pry into her life.  The paparazzi could not get enough of her. 

To say that Leah was heartbroken the day she found out the two of them were going to be roommates would be an understatement.  All her life, Leah had worked hard and pushed herself to be the best.  Countless hours of study and dozens of extracurricular activities had resulted in a full academic scholarship.  It had all paid off, but with the circus that was sure to follow Charlotte, Leah was deeply concerned that everything would go off the rails. 

Much to her surprise, the hubbub around Charlotte quickly dropped off and both girls settled into college life.  The rich heiress turned out to be every bit Leah’s academic equal.  Her focus was driven by a desire to prove that nothing had been given to her.  She earned a degree in Biology and Business, and was determined to prove herself in the world of Genetics.  Leah meanwhile excelled in her passion, pre-law with a focus on environmental matters.  Over the years, both girls became fast friends as they pursued advanced degrees in Law and Genetics.

 

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapter 55.

by BigBird74

Dahlia was finding it increasingly hard to ignore the growing sense of dread she felt as she neared the address Melissa had given her. Her last encounter with Katherine, just before leaving Hilltop, had been unsettling. She was angry at the cleaner’s “rude” disturbance of Ms Western and had warned ‘Petra’ to be at the house early the next morning. Having forgotten that the press conference was to be held tomorrow, Dahlia was fretting over how fast things were moving and how she had no control over events. After a long anxious wait, she was relieved to see that the bus back into Barton was empty and she was able to hide out the journey far away from any sneering kids and judgemental adults. Already Dahlia’s fragile mind was adjusting itself from that of a pampered princess loved by all to a relative outsider who felt shy about her looks. While she still valued the ability to step out of the public eye, the risks of losing everything was now apparent and explained a great deal of her unease.

Once back in Barton, it had taken some time to orient herself and find Edge Road. If a description had ever fitted a name, this was it. The closest end of the road was situated not far from the main bus station, with all the dubious charms common to those districts around the world: beggars, homeless vagrants, sex shops and bars all covered in graffiti and litter. Wherever she looked something unappealing caught her eye. The roughest denizens of Barton seemed to inhabit this space and it shocked Dahlia. Of course, no-one paid her the slightest attention. Why would they, she caught herself thinking? In her current guise she was no better than any of them. In fact, given her gross weight, lack of money and worn through dress, she was arguably worse off.

Story: The Education and Rehabilitation of Miss Caroline Drake. Chapters 1-3.

by Jackie J

Chapter 1

Caroline was born into privilege and enjoyed a cosseted childhood and adolescence. An only child she was spoiled beyond reason by her doting father. Raised in the magnificent country residence of her parents she wanted for nothing.  Eighteen, but looking younger than her age, the pretty and precocious daddy’s little princess was the belle of the ball. Many suiters rejected with an assertive coolness that belied her delicate pretty looks. Caroline was smart and a terrible tease which seemed to amuse her father, who could possibly be good enough for his little girl.

An idyllic existence, servants to wait on her every need, a wardrobe of expensive clothes and money no object. Not seen to be a flaw, in fact she was oblivious to it, was Caroline’s conceited attitude of deserved privilege, an attitude not uncommon and shared among her contemporaries’

Caroline’s stepmother did not share her husband’s unconditional admiration for his daughter, far from it. The sooner the despicable young woman was married off and out of her life the better. The feeling was mutual. Gwendoline was not her mother, something Caroline took pleasure in reminding her of at every opportunity.

Story: Mika, the Constant Cleaner

The first part (chapters 1-9) of this excellent piece by Monica Graz was published nearly a year ago on this blog. Now Monica, as I keep saying one of the original inspirations for this blog, is back with the rest of Mika's story. Shared with the author's permission.

MIKA

THE CONSTANT CLEANER

 

CHAPTER 10

Saturday Morning

First person narrative - Mika 

I felt her hands cupping my breasts and her body pushing on me from behind as I was standing in front of the sink doing the dishes. 

“We suppose to go shopping today. Have you forgotten missy?” Linda whispered in my ear as she playfully moved her tongue around sending a wave of shivers in my body. 

“I’m finishing here Madame and then I’ll go and change to my street clothes.” I replied with excitement in my voice. 

“I want you in pants today Mika, I’ll prepare an outfit for you. Come in my bedroom when you finish here.” She said summarily and left, making me feeling totally puzzled looking down at my rubber gloved hands and wet apron front.  

Pants? What she meant by that? Does she want Mike back? I haven’t worn pants since I became Mika on a full-time basis months ago. I got so much used in exposing my legs either naked or covered in stockings or tights that the whole idea sounded utterly absurd. 

I finished my chores as quickly as possible removed my wet apron and literally run upstairs to the master bedroom. 

Madame Linda was arranging some clothes on top of the bed and turning to me, a Cheshire cat grin on her face said, “Here is your outfit, black girly pants with a side zip, pale blue blouse with a low neckline and puffy short sleeves and two-inch black pumps.” 

“But why pants Madame? I never had pants on since I became Mika full time. I’ll feel more vulnerable and probably more detectable as a male.” I asked in a puzzled voice.

 

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 53-54.

 by BigBird74

Hilltop had many advantages. The biggest, as its name suggests, is that it sits atop a particularly steep hill that overlooks Barton in the valley below. Its isolated position ensures a great deal of privacy and was one of the reasons Dahlia originally opted for it. However, for someone of Dahlia’s current physique, it was something of a nightmare to climb. Of course, to those with a car, this poses few problems, but to those forced to use public transport, the nearest bus stop is several hundred metres down a winding road.

Never having taken a bus to Hilltop before, Dahlia was not completely sure of where the stop was and was looking anxiously from the misted window for clues that she was getting close. The bus was crowded and Dahlia had been crammed into the passenger well with a half dozen other people, all tired and irritable. If people’s faces do truly show how they have lived their lives, this group had been particularly hard done by. As it juddered along the road, the bus kept coming to a sudden halt, throwing all the standing passengers forwards and onto one another. After being hounded by those kids in Barton, Dahlia was hypersensitive to any signs that the other passengers would find her disagreeable. But, fortunately or not, a pall of various body odours hung over them all. Tired, hot and sweaty people, all mixing together. Each time the bus swerved, Dahlia found herself instinctively reaching to push back her hair. Years of habit left her fingering her short masculine haircut, feeling sick to the core that this time she could not remove her wig to reveal her golden tresses. No this time it was real and it could be permanent. For all her bodily changes, her hair had acted as a kind of mask or shield. Now, without it, she felt unattractive and exposed, and was doing her best to avoid making eye contact with any of her fellow passengers.

Captions Sunday!

More excellent captions/short stories from Dolores Azul. Enjoy! 

“All About Eva” 

Carolina and Eva: two rising executives in the hospitality business. Both of us work for the third largest hotel chain in the world, and we both worked our way up from the bottom—Eva in the kitchen, and myself in housekeeping. 

Eva is still a rising executive. I am...not. Her salary just crossed the quarter-million dollar level. My income is a tiny fraction of what it once was...Both of us took pride in starting from the bottom. Safe to say we both know everything about running a hotel! We both understood what it means to be at the bottom of a corporation—and a society! So when a new hotel-wide training program was due to touch down, we both drew straws to see who got to work incognito and “start from the bottom” as a new trainee! 

I drew the Lucky Short Straw, but Eva generously lent me a whole battery of materials she had intended to use for herself! What an arsenal it was! In order to truly play the part and not give herself away, she got some smaller-than-microdoses of psyllocybin, with cannabanoids, along with MP3 recordings to listen to at night, to gently hypnotize the listener! She used them to up her leadership skills (I had no idea!) but the ones she gave me were designed to keep one cheerful on the job, no matter how stressful! She even lent me a key to a small apartment of hers, so I could immerse myself into my role, riding the bus to orientation instead of my dead-givaway Lexus! I put one of the lozenges under my tongue the day before orientation and put headphones on before going to sleep. 

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 51-52.

by BigBird74

Dahlia had received a few shocks in the past few days and was about to experience one more. Until the moment she had stepped from the limousine, Dahlia’s newfound identity had been rather a private affair. Sure the doctor, Ms Nechita and now Melissa had provided a daily witness to her decline, but they all shared one important piece of knowledge. They all knew who it was under that vast bulk. For, despite all that had happened to her, inside her head, Dahlia still saw herself as a slim supermodel contained within some kind of fat suit. She had yet to accept that her new shape might be ‘permanent’ or long lasting in any meaningful way. But as she eased her fat body from the luxury of the limousine to the dusty poverty of Barton High Street, she was about to experience what her new life might really involve.

One cannot blame Dahlia for her myopia. After all, she had lived a life of luxury and privilege for almost the whole of her adult life, starting on her modelling career at such a tender age. Before that she had been cosseted within the bosom of a loving family. She had never wanted for anything, nor had to experience the harsh realities involved in ekeing out a living from one’s own meagre talents. Everything she was drove away in that car. Melissa now inhabited her space and seemed intent on shutting the door on Dahlia’s route back.

Captions Sunday!

Three more captions from Dolores Azul. Excellent work. Again, all three short-story length. Enjoy!

Holiday In Plain Sight!!!!

Can an introvert rise up the corporate ladder? I’m proof that you can. I am also proof that it takes its toll! I am also proof that that it takes money to get what you want—even if what you want is to be POOR!

That doesn’t make ANY sense! What do I mean? I’ll explain...

You CAN be shy, and still be a “People Person”. I’m good enough with people that I was pulling down six figures in income a year. But I didn’t SPEND most of that money! I lived way, WAY below my means, and used what I saved to buy real estate. I even have shares in a hotel chain! The hotel chain, of course, manages itself—I mean that I don’t have to manage it—and I’ve hired good people to manage my other properties, who I keep in contact online.

Living for years on a tiny fraction of my income, I got USED to it! That convinced me I didn’t need the corporate world any longer to live the life I want! I set up a very modest trust fund for...myself! For my OTHER self! Most of the fund pays for a basement apartment in a twelve-unit I own just off the bus lines. The rest is for food and clothing—the weekly budget I set up for food is what I used to spend on ONE business lunch! The only “luxury” item I have in my apartment is a tanning bed—so I can “revert” back to my “natural” coloring!

Two weeks after resigning from the corporate rat-race, I used the I.D. for my “Other Self” and hired on as a housekeeper in one of the hotels I own stock in!

Story: Miss Cassandra Fellows. Chapters 9-10.

by Jackie J

Chapter 9.

Following the meeting with Doctor Jenkins Cassie was back at work in the restaurant steaming off the griddle plates and cleaning the ovens ready for the week ahead. Whilst she laboured Cassies mind could not help reflecting on the questions Miss had asked her. She was still confused what it was all about. The calculation’s, ratio’s, percentages? She had no problem with those, or so she thought, but were they relevant for a maid? She knew everything about her rota and work at Temples and maids work in general. Surely that is what Miss really wanted to know how good a maid she was, like Miss Lockwood had told her she must be. The games at the end were familiar, she had done something similar before, with Miss, matching words and pretending to be someone else, but it was already a little foggy in her mind. That was over now, she had work to finish and rubber gloved, Cassie continued scrubbing at the caked-on grime from inside the ovens.

Thursday of Cassandra’s second full week a maid at Temples and the thoughts of high finance and the life- style enjoyed by Miss Cassandra Fellows continued to be unconsciously and effectively suppressed by the industrious and willing maid Cassie. Kept busy with her work and being constantly reminded by Mr Roberts, and indeed all the other staff at Temples, what a good maid she was, there was little capacity or scope for thoughts of other than what she was, who she was.

Cassandra Fellows had been convinced to and willingly embraced her maid persona under the pretence of Evelyn Lockwood’s scheme to remove the conflict with her inner maid. With Maid Cassie exposed, Cassandra’s maid was to be contained, isolated, and separated from the troubled Executive. Cassandra would then free to continue her executive career unfettered, the interfering and debilitating maid persona banished to be buried deep within the darkest recesses of her mind, or so Cassandra had assumed.

Captions Sunday!

Dolores Azul deliver three new excellent captions. Three short stories basically. Very well done. Enjoy!

Undercover in a Rival Hotel! 

I am (or was) a manager of a national chain of hotels, breathing a huge sigh of relief that, with COVID-19 finally under control, people started to travel—and, of course, stay at hotels again! It was I who came up with our newest little slogan: 

“We won’t mask our delight to see you again!” 

After a full year of working seven days a week, eighteen hours a day, I figured I (finally) earned some time off; but I just couldn’t rest, because of a nagging suspicion... 

Most of the national hotel chains were starting to do well, but one new company was apparently making money hand over fist! After only a year in business! How they could erect brand-new hotels in all the major cities in such a short time boggled my mind, that shouldn’t have been possible! I had my personal assistant search the ’web for information—and who should ultimately turn up as the owner but a very famous gentleman whose father-in-law is even more famous! 

Yes, I deserved a vacation, but I couldn’t let this go! Armed with fictitious I.D., and traveling to a city where our chain had no hotel (yet) so where I haven’t visited, I went undercover—yes, undercover, as housekeeper for hire! This was going to be hard work; but I think I look, and physically I think I am, much younger than my forty-eight years. I figured I could keep up with the duties, and NOBODY looking for evidence knew better where to look than I! 

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 49-50.

by BigBird74

In the modern world, time is becoming an increasingly rare commodity and not just for those sitting atop society’s pyramid. Think of those among us who simply never have time for themselves, for example the small army of cleaners and manual workers whose days breeze by in a blur of simple tasks that keep them constantly busy. Even so, you may say, surely it would be possible to devote even half of one’s attention to something as important as literally handing one’s life to another? The gravity of situation facing Dahlia would no doubt have commanded the attention of most people. But, from the moment she walked out of her sister’s room that fateful day to when she started packing her ‘luggage’ for the trip back to the outside world, Dahlia seemed unable or unwilling to contemplate just what was about to happen.

As per usual in this sordid tale, initial appearances can be deceiving. You see, Dahlia had spent months training herself not to think much at all. After all one of the reasons she found herself in this mess was because she thought too much. Her imagination, always vivid and colourful, went hand-in-hand with an intense sensitivity that had sparked those early doubts about her self-worth. Unable to let go of her worries, Dahlia’s anxieties had grown and she found herself fuelling a debilitating cycle that had led all the way to the psychologist’s couch.

Breaking that spiral was why she had found herself in this clinic in the first place. Her menial work had provided a great amount of solace, as she learned to enjoy the peace of mind those moments gave her, so far removed from the usually hectic pace she lived at. In those first days at the clinic, she had literally trained herself to empty her mind, developing her ability to still her thoughts and bring on the inner peace she craved so badly. Once her steely self-discipline was deployed to the task, she found herself going minutes without an unwanted thought entering her head. With time, she perfected the technique of using diversionary thoughts – simple things like listing the foods she liked to eat or how dreamy the doctor was – to occupy her increasingly sluggish mind.

Story: Miss Cassandra Fellows. Chapters 7-8.

by Jackie J

Chapter 7

Mr Roberts office being just down the hallway was not hard to find and having knocked on his door Cassie nervously entered, did this man know who she was, a co- conspirator to Miss Lockwood’s program? Offered a seat she sat by his desk and soon realised he was not.

“Another Tutteridge maid I see from your uniform Cassie. Very smart I must say. Have you worked for Miss Tutteridge long?”

Cassie adjusted her glasses perhaps they were a little stronger than she had first thought.

“Yes, a number of years.”

It was not a lie she had, albeit only part time but ever since she moved to the area and she had started working for Hobson and Lloyd. Cassie chuckled to herself considering Miss Lockwood’s demarcation, since Miss Fellows joined Hobson and Lloyd.

Mr Roberts offered a temporary contract to sign.

“Just routine Cassie get you registered, here is a pen sign across the bottom.”

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 47-48.

by BigBird74

If the moments leading up to that moment of delicious triumph had been among the most nerve wracking of her life, the release Melissa felt the moment her sister had stepped into the bathroom was pure ecstasy. For weeks now her anxieties had been building as the day approached that she would try to supplant her sister. All those sleepless nights, bouts of self-doubt and moments of near panic had suddenly paid off. Melissa closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, replaying recent events in her head, recalling how she had snatched away her sister’s undeserved fortune.

For a moment, Melissa thought she recognised the old Dahlia trying to assert herself. She feared she was about to fight back and upend all the careful planning. However to her palpable relief and just as the doctor had expected, Dahlia’s desire to reclaim a life she now associated with pure stress and near terror was so tepid, any remaining willpower she possessed simply imploded at the moment of truth.

Melissa nodded at Ms Nechita who duly left the suite to collect the doctor. In any good cop, bad cop routine, you need a foe and a friend, and it was now time for the doctor’s soothing manner to convince Dahlia make the right decision for everyone. After all, no one could rest easy until she was safely consigned to her new life. That thought sent a shiver through Melissa, as her moment of reverie was interrupted by a forgotten ghost. Despite everything that had been achieved in such a short time, in spite of standing so close to having it all, she knew she would never be able to relax until Dahlia was out of the way. Melissa hated uncertainty and was eager to push things as far as she could and finish this.

Captions Sunday!

Three excellent new captions (short stories really) from a new contributor, Dolores Azul. Enjoy!

It Took All Her Brains—To Drop Down 

Sylvia Morales had a big problem. Before they passed, her parents got to see Sylvia become a success in life: she dealt in real estate and the stock market (got to diversify after all) and became very wealthy—a multi-millionaire at age 28. 

But success was the last thing Sylvia really wanted. Her desire to drop down the social ladder was difficult, but not impossible for a resourceful woman like herself. First she set up a dummy corporation to purchase office buildings. None of the business tenants were kicked out; in fact, they were offered slightly BETTER terms to stay if they used her maid service for cleaning. Then she set up another corporation: “Jiffy-Spiffy Maids”, and hired a good manager to run it. 

Then, in a vacant apartment building she also bought, Sylvia looked up YouTube videos on how to houseclean “like a pro”. When she got good enough, she went to her manager to hire on at “Jiffy-Spiffy”, impersonating an illegal alien. By the time she sought work, Sylvia had put on enough pounds to be unrecognizable to the manager she hired but only met once! Looking too heavy to do the work, Sylvia begged the manager to let her clean one day—for free—to show she had what it takes... 

Story: The Cleaner Returns. Chapters 43-46.

by BigBird74

We can all relate to that feeling of unease commonly referred to as our sixth sense. Perhaps it is a series of discreet signals picked up unwittingly over a period of time? Maybe it really is some form of extra-sensory perception, some invisible set of antenna that pick up a sense of danger? Whatever it is, Dahlia had first felt it as she finished her duties that night. As usual she had gone to the guest’s room that evening following the conclusion of her duties, only to find that the guest was no longer there. Disappointment rippled through Dahlia as the cheap thrill of playing maid and cleaner to the guest was denied to her. She found herself lingering in the room for far longer than she could reasonably explain, hoping that the missing woman would reappear and she could play the role of dutiful servant once more.

In the end it was only the appearance of Ms Nechita at the door that forced her to move on. The older woman motioned for Dahlia to leave and watched as the red faced and very fat cleaner eased her bulk past her and out of the room. The staggering extent of Dahlia’s transformation never ceased to amaze Ms Nechita. The doctor has told her to expect a significant amount of weight gain, but the reality was far in excess of anything they had thought possible. The professional inside of her winced a little at the numerous malpractices involved in their manipulation of the former supermodel, but the promise of a generous bonus had silenced her unsettled mind. No, Dahlia’s self-destruction was largely her own doing. She had convinced herself that she did not deserve all the gifts god had bestowed on her and all they had done was to open the door and show her the way. She watched as the former beauty turned and waddled slowly from the room, her fat thighs now starting to affect how she walked, making her rock a little from side to side.