Story: Doeville Halloween Ghost Train

By T. H. Enerdly

Part 1

Introduction

Barry Knight, editor of the "Daily Granite," hung up the phone. 
He had been asked for some help by a friend.  Barry pondered 
the request for several minutes before asking his secretary 
to fetch Claire, a cub reporter for the newspaper and ideal 
for the assignment Barry had in mind.

After a few minutes, Claire stuck her head into Barry's office 
and said, "What's up, chief?"

"Great Kaiser's ghost, don't call me chief, girl."

"Don't call me girl, chief."

"Too much sass by far," thought Barry.  "She'll be more respectful 
when she returns from her next assignment."

"Have a seat, gir..., Claire."

After Claire sat down, Barry continued, "Have you ever heard the 
legend of the Doeville Halloween ghost train?"

Story: Transformation of a Middle-Class Woman

by Conchita
(Translated by The Nerdly and edited by C. Lakewood)

Part 1

Translator's Preface:

This is a translation from the French of a story entitled
"Transformation d'une Bourgeoise," which was uploaded to the
files section of the now-extinct Yahoo Group "Arrogant Women
Embarrassed" in the fall of 2004.  As far as I can determine,
the story was first posted to a French site that specialized
in a fetish for nylon smocks (which are somewhat similar to lab
coats and are typically worn by working women, such as cleaning
ladies).  The story's primary focus is on this type of clothing. 
I am not a devotee of this fetish, but do hope the translation
does justice to this aspect of the story.  There is also a
secondary focus on humiliation and D/s, which is of more
interest to me, and, I suspect, to the members of our group.

The story exists in several variants.  I uploaded one such
variant in English to the "Arrogant Women Embarrassed" group. 
Subsequently, I noticed that, to me, the French version is
more interesting than the English version.  For this reason,
I undertook to provide the members of the group with a new
translation.

Story: Becoming a Maid

by Annette

Translated by The Nerdly, edited by C. Lakewood

Part 1

Miriam, a friend of mine, remarked one day during a luncheon,
"There are two ways of wearing a black dress: with a pearl
necklace or with a white apron."

The bon mot piqued my curiosity, so much so that the next time
I was at the Samaritaine department store, I bought a waitress's
white apron.  When I got home, I tested Miriam's theory in front
of a mirror.  First, I put on a pearl necklace and regarded my
overall image.  Then I exchanged the pearls around my neck for
an apron around my waist.  The dress with an apron was a
completely different garment than it had been with the necklace.

What if I actually WERE a maid?  Me...become a maid?  But how?  For
whom?  And, above all, WHY?  It was, of course, a truly mad idea,
yet a strangely pleasurable feeling crept over me.

I picked up the telephone and dialed a familiar number.  "Miriam?"

Story: The Bottle of Oil

By Sergio (domedeus2002)

Translated from the Italian by The Nerdly


"Damn, damn, damn!" muttered Valerie to no one in particular.  Once again, a bottle of oil had slid through her fingers and shattered on the floor.  She sank to her knees and began collecting the shards of glass, all the while cursing her clumsiness.  She knew that her mistress would not be pleased when she learned about this latest incident.  She had emphasized that Valerie was to be careful with the bottle, and now....  No, her mistress would not be at all happy to learn about her carelessness.

The last time Valerie had dropped a bottle of oil, the Signora had whipped her without mercy, and she still remembered it vividly. She had wept, had screamed, had begged at the top of her lungs for her mistress to show mercy and stop beating her, but to no avail. The punishment had continued unabated until Valerie had felt wetness on her thighs, and then she had to kiss her mistress's hand in the prescribed fashion, lick the whip clean, put it back where it belonged, and, finally, thank her mistress for the discipline.

Story: Maid to Order

I am planning to re-publish some of the stories from C.Lakewood's wonderful collection in this blog to make sure they don't follow the way of much of transformation fiction on once popular yahoo groups that have since been deleted or went inactive. A lot of this late 1990s-early 2000s stuff has probably been lost forever and, given the quality of C.Lakewood's work and the fact that his page hasn't been updated for nearly four years, I don't want one day to discover that the site is now gone. Therefore I will re-publish a few of the stories here and, possibly, introduce a few readers to some of the lady-to-maid classics.

Maid to Order
by C.Lakewood
                   ________________________________
                   |                               |
                   |         PENDANT PRESS         |
                   |                               | 
                   |                               |
                   |        Susan Ingoldsby        |
                   |                               |
                   |         Senior Editor         |
                   |_______________________________|            

 I envisioned my brand new business card yet again.  The 
promotion was in the bag -- more status, a hefty raise, and better 
benefits -- in return for what is really part-time work...plus a 
little skillful flirting with upper management, implying a lot more 
than I ever intend to come across with....  God!  How long have I 
been playing this game?  It must be 15 years now -- ever since my 
sophomore year in college.  And I'm very, very good at it, if I do 
say so.

    College professors, traffic cops, salesmen, contractors, 
supervisors, Warren (my wimpy ex) -- all grist for my mill.  
The latest, old man Morton (the erstwhile Senior Editor and my 
erstwhile mentor), was one of the easiest: flatter him a little, 
pick his brains, knife him in the back, and manoeuvre the carcass 
out the door -- all without him really knowing what had happened 
and who had engineered it.  Well, he did warn me that "Business 
is Darwinian."  I hope he's satisfied to be part of the proof.  

    (Of course, I role-play only for people who can give me 
something.  Lower-end people -- janitors, for example -- tend 
just to get the sharp edge of my tongue.)

Story: Time and Tide

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Story: What Goes Up.. Must Come Down

I would like to appologize to this blog's readers for the recent lack of updates. There are a few stories currently in the works that I hope to publish here in the near future. Meanwhile, here is an old favorite of mine.

I first read Joe Doe's sequel to Denise's original on C.Lakewood's site a while ago and I've been fascinated by the "mistaken octoroon" genre ever since. There are very few stories touching on the topic I've located online over the years and this is probably still one of the best.

What Goes Up...

By Denise

Susana Dupree lived a life of luxury and privilege...and she was  bored. She had always belonged to the Jamaican planter class,  and now, in 1730, her life was settled into such a deep groove  that she often thought she was inextricably trapped.

In the early days, she had been occasionally diverted by  interesting news from Europe -- but the War of the Spanish  Succession had ended half her lifetime ago, and there hadn't  been anything of similar importance since. Local pirate raids  and outbreaks of pestilence had their moments, but there had been none near enough or remarkable enough for a long time. In her early teens, she had been intrigued, briefly, when she'd come across her grandmother's journal and its allusions to some  mysterious "Family Secret," which apparently involved Susana's French great grandmother. But Susana's mother denied knowing anything about it, and, shortly thereafter, the journal vanished. 

(The family motto was not "Out of sight, out of mind," but it might as well have been.)

When she was 16, she had married Jack Dupree over the objections of her parents. He was less wealthy than her family, but was such a devilishly attractive rakehell, and his very character defects  made him particularly exciting.

But it was not long before the boredom returned. Jack was always gone some place or another. She was lonely. There were a few opportunities to socialize, but she was always alone. After all,  a married man could have any number of affairs and still remain a  "gentleman," but a lady was not so free. The wild abandonment of her early relationship with Jack was soon enough replaced by his  indifference. She longed in vain for their lost passion. No matter what she did to rekindle his interest failed miserably.