Story: Leah's First Day.

By popular request, the sequel to Inanimate 77's Bridal Shower is finally here!

by Inanimate77

Leah stood silently for a few minutes as the Uber driver sped away leaving her alone in front of the Davenport Estate.  After her last experience, Leah had sworn that she would never return to this place.  The entire episode felt rather bizarre, and quite honestly, she still had a hard time believing it had happened.  Somehow Leah had found herself mistaken for the help while attending her good friend Charlotte’s bridal shower.

In hindsight, Leah should not have been so concerned about Lady Davenport.  The young professional woman had really wanted to make a good impression on her friend’s old money mother.  Her plan to do so really never had a chance.  Lady Davenport would never accept Leah because of her lineage.  No matter how much education she attained or how much professional success she experienced, Leah would always be seen as lower class.  It was simply the way of things. 

The entire ordeal had almost ended in disaster, but being a true friend Leah acted the humble part of house servant in order to not cause her friend embarrassment.  When Charlotte had found out, she was truly horrified.  Charlotte and Leah had been roommates in college, and unlike her mother, the young heiress did not ascribe to her mother’s views on social class.  She was at school to find educational enlightenment with the hope of making a difference in the world.  Despite being from very different backgrounds, the two girls had become close friends.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 10.

by Jackie J

My duties for the day finished I sit on my bunk and remove my boots with a sigh. Instinctive now, I wipe the boots down and polish them back to a shine. A maid must never be seen with dirty or dull boots. I chuckle to myself at the disciplines, like the cleaning of my boots, that I have adopted over these past months, whilst indulging my fantasy to be a working maid. Pretence at the outset for sure, but now such traits have become second nature, the curtsy, my lowered gaze, speaking only when spoken to, doing what I am told, when I am told, how I am told, without question. After years of making decisions, guiding my own destiny, these past months I have been freed of all such burdens, living a simple, respectful, submissive, almost anonymous existence to which I have become accustomed and accepted. A life, despite the privations that I have experienced, I cannot help myself from still wanting to live.

Stripped and washed I lay on my bunk in thought.

Not for the first time, I consider how fortunate I was to have been found like I was at Crestley House by the temporary housekeeper, Mrs Burtonshaw? Fate, I guess. I paid her well for what she did with me, to me, keeping me aproned like she did, having me for her maid. Then organising for me to become one of her Mayfair maids, finding me a position at Bracken Hall a common maid. giving me a new identity, Milly Brannigan, how well she understood, understands my strange desires. Even earlier today, before she left, although my time a maid almost at an end, putting me in my place.

“Mrs Burtonshaw or Miss to the likes of you Milly Brannigan.”