Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 14.

by Jackie J

Two days since the funeral for Agnes Burtonshaw and the mourners who came and stayed at Sycamores have all departed including my housekeeper, Janice. Having revealed all to my housekeeper, the night of the funeral, she left the following morning without a word. Promising to help me, she was to find away and make the necessary arrangements to get me back to Crestley House. Sweeping out the rear yard of the hostel I smile to myself. “Making necessary arrangements”, no doubt Janice will have made good use of Crestley House in my absence, especially if she thought it doubtful that I would be returning, thinking me married and settled in some foreign land. Arrangements yes, she will no doubt be returning things back to how they were before my return.

Janice made haste back to Crestley House the morning after the funeral what she had found out about her Mistress, Miss Millicent Williams, could change everything. What would she tell Richard, her husband of only three months. Richard Williams had moved to the area taking over as bank manager at the bank used by her mistress, and which Janice, following Miss Millicent’s departure, was obliged to visit. Richard took a shine to Janice having helped her in resolving the anomalies left by the instructions from her travelling mistress. Flattered by the attention, not long into their relationship Janice suggested that Richard leave his cramped rented accommodation and move into Crestley House, which he did. Their love blossomed, and they eventually tied the knot, Crestley House had become the home of Mr and Mrs Williams. How could she explain that her absent mistress had not married and settled overseas but had quite willingly taken the apron to become a common maid, had become a common maid, with a new identity and, with her own collusion, disenfranchised herself from her wealth. By the time Janice was on the last leg of her journey home, she was wishing she had not attended Agnes funeral and never met up with her once Mistress.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 13.

by Jackie J

Having been seen, whilst bedded by Mr Rogerson, in such a wanton fashion, the moral high ground I may have clung to, is gone now for sure. A lady of wealth and position, a lady like Miss Millicent Williams, would never have given herself in such a way, no matter what the circumstances. It is strangely comforting to accept that it was the maid Milly Brannigan who aroused and took Rogerson’s passion.  A moment of weakness? Caught at a low emotional ebb?  So why, for the third night running, am I still sharing his bed. I know it wasn’t right, I know it isn’t right, but it is what it is.

I had never linked my desires for the apron and its associated subjugation and servitude with sex, not until I had laid with Daniel these past days. Daniel is not a handsome man by any means, and his personal hygiene leaves much to be desired. There is no tenderness in his manner or touch, taking me roughly and at his will. Allowing one so uncouth, to take unconditional possession of me and use me in such an intimate way, bringing new emotions and imaginings for my perverse cravings for debasement. Whilst tempting to continue to take his seed within me, I am now mindful to enforce the rhythm method, but always make good by slobbering and sucking him clean until drained and flaccid.

Miss Elizabeth, engaged in getting to grips with the running of Mayfair Domestic Services and preparing for the funeral of Agnes, I am instructed, until matters are settled, to return to being the maid at Sycamores.

The tragedy on the river Thames, which took Agnes to meet her maker, is the subject of a coroner’s inquiry and Agnes’s funeral is delayed.  I have now returned to living in my own room, Daniel, well back to Mr Rogerson now, decided he had enough of his harlot, he had his reputation to think of.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 12.

by Jackie J

Thursday, I call dress down day for Miss Margret. Each Thursday Mistress has business to attend to in the city. Rather plain clothing for a lady of such standing, but the nature of her business requires such, and it is not my place to pry. Having inquired once, and having been severely punished, I know better than to inquire of my Mistresses’ business.

Miss Elizabeth is on time to collect Mistress. Miss Elizabeth, a large and well-spoken lady, now manages Mayfair Domestic Services and from the conversations I have fleetingly overheard, the business is expanding and thriving thanks to the investments made by my Mistress, Miss Margret.

With Mistress and Miss Elizabeth having left Poplars, walking into the kitchen, I contemplate what to prepare for them when they return.  Miss Elizabeth likes my cherry buns, and she did ask for them the previous Thursday. Mistress and Miss Elizabeth are rarely back at Poplars until late afternoon, so I have time to shop and still bake the buns.

The clock in the hall chimes seven, then eight, then nine, Mistress is never this late and I start to worry. A sharp banging of the door knocker makes me jump and I hurry down the hallway to answer the door.

A Tragedy. The ferry from Tower bridge to Greenwich capsized. Five survivors, my Mistress, Miss Margret, Agnes Burtonshaw, not one of them.

Shock, filling my senses at the unthinkable, I stare at a tearful Miss Elizabeth in disbelieve at the news, then collapse in a heap on the hallway tiles.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 11.

by Jackie J

Given no suitable Mistress could be found, that would be willing to take Milly Brannigan to be their trainee personal maid, Mrs Burtonshaw had proposed to fill the void and train Milly personally. There would be no shortage of positions available for Milly Brannigan to be a lady’s maid, once trained, conditioned and mentally prepared for such a position. Mrs Burtonshaw intermating that given the training went well, and she was sure it would, she already had one such position in mind for Milly.

If I wished to proceed and be trained to be a true lady’s maid by Mrs Burtonshaw, meaningful authenticity would be paramount. Mrs Burtonshaw used those words repeatedly when she initially told me of her proposal.  Crestley House was obviously out of the question, being too familiar and distracting. Mrs Burtonshaw’s residence was at best modest, not at all suitable for a Mistress and her personal maid. Also, Mrs Burtonshaw was not wealthy, and a mistress could not be going cap in hand to her personal maid for funds, could she? Mrs Burtonshaw had the answer to resolve all these matters, to create the authentic environment for a mistress and her maid. For the Mistress to have access to the wealth that will reflect her position and for her maid to only have access to what she is given and no more. To experience the true dynamic of being the personal maid of a mistress, a maid must first understand then accept that she is totally dependent on the benevolence of her Mistress. There can be no pretence in this dependency aspect, which will be the cornerstone of the training, how else can meaningful authenticity to be achieved?

Story: The Bridge Player

Inspired by the classic 1960s Bunty cartoon, The Imposter. Please welcome a new blog contributor, George. 

The bridge player

By George (G.T.)

Victoria Perkins lived in a small country mansion with her parents. She came home from a private boarding school just two weeks ago. She had barely seen her parents for years. In addition to them, the house was inhabited by a butler, a cook, a housekeeper, and a maid. With the exception of the young maid, all employees were at least fifty years old.

Someone knocked on her door in the morning. The maid asked permission to come in to put a fire in the fireplace. Victoria didn't want to get out of the good warm bed into the cold room. She watched the maid work. Her black dress reached to her ankles. The sleeve of the dress ended in a tight white cuff at the wrists. She had a tight white neck strap around her neck all the way to her chin. Maid Mary was embroidered on it. A white maid's hat covered her hair. She wore simple little hoop earrings in her ears. Her white apron reached almost to her neck. Two wide shoulder straps go to the apron's back. In the back she tied the apron around her waist with a big bow. Anyway, Mary was like her. The girl's age, stature, face, even eyes were similar to Victoria's. There was only one difference. Mary's hair is straight and Victoria's curly. Victoria knew this from the fact that Mary's cap had once fallen as she scrubbed the stone in the hallway. The housekeeper immediately struck her with a wand from punishment.

Story: Kristina's Holiday Week.

By Kristina Katyn

Author's Note:

 "I wrote this story together with my friend Peter242 as a follow-up to our other Kristina stories.  Peter242 has written other stories too.  For myself, I have worked as a domestic cleaner in real life for a number of families and busy professional ladies.  We hope you enjoy it."

Kristina smiled to herself as she wheeled Mrs B’s suitcase into the house, knowing she was going to be skivvy for the week for both Heather and Mrs B, and she was happy to do so.  It was slightly strange, given that the rather dominant Heather was twenty-four years' old compared to the submissive Kristina’s thirty-four, and Kristina knew that Mrs B was fifty-something.

Heather had instructed Kristina to take the week off work so she could serve both Mrs B and herself for their holiday week, which Kristina was more than happy to do as she was drawn to the domestic servitude lifestyle and much preferred the prospect of that life to her primary job as a well-paid but stressed corporate lawyer.

Mrs B had been for a while Heather's dad’s girlfriend.  They had met four years ago, and well after Heather had bought her own place, but her dad asked Heather to be friendly to her and even call her "Mum".  Heather was happy to do that and even after the relationship ended Heather and Mrs B remained friends and as Heather had got used to calling Mrs B Mum, she continued to do so.  They liked to go away on holiday together and, like now, often stayed in the other’s home for a holiday break.

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.