Story: What Annabella Wants Annabella Gets. Chapter 7.

by Jackie J

News arrived at Buckshire manor. Little improvement in the Earl's health and still unfit to travel. It had been arranged that the Earl and Countess would not be returning to Buckshire manor until the Spring or at least until the roads would become passable again and travel back to England would be possible.

Lady Hogarth snatched the letter from the housekeeper and smiled reading the footnote from Constance. “I hope all is well with my new maid, Annabella should be well established when I return.”

Lady Hogarth read with concern about her brother and smirked at the Earl's wife’s comments.

“Quite cryptic from the witch and serves to confirm her desires concerning your maid Annie. It seems we will be extending our stay for some time yet, Jarvis.”

Martha curtsied.

“Yes, Mistress.”

During that day Annie had overheard Lady Hogarth and her daughter speaking conspiratorially in low tones and stood back from the doorway frowning.  Having heard that the Earls health was not improving and indeed his illness could prove fatal and, if it was, what Lady Hogarth and her daughter were planning.  Even if all went well for the Earl, it would still be the spring, months, before the Earl and Countess would be returning. Both possibilities troubling a worried maid.

Her days work over Annie laid on her bunk contemplating what she had overheard. Lady Hogarth and her daughters scheming, the Earls health and yet another delay in the Earl and Countesses return to Buckshire manor, at least another six months?

Originally it was to be for three months, another three months had already passed, not that that was a problem with Lady Hogarth and her daughter adding  a whole new dimension to her self-intoxicating delirium that sustained her fantasy of being a maid. Now it was to be another six months before the Earl and Countess planned to return and should the worst happen, which from what she had overheard, was likely, what then?

Annie was already in fear of losing her mind. Her convincing capitulation, to her often brutal subjugation, especially during the first three months, had left her at times truly fearing for her sanity. A wry grin came over her face, I must be mad to have continued this but what a sweet madness it is. At the outset Annabella was aware Martha had told the Countess everything. The amendments to the agreement, that the housekeeper asked Annabella to write, they were not the words of a housekeeper, the vocabulary much too educated for her. Annie not a bad name for a maid and sacrificing her rooms, being confined to the maid’s quarters, wearing this garb, plus the other stipulated conditions. Unknown to Constance and Martha they only added to the innermost feelings that Annabella craved. 

Miss Jarvis could not have played her role better wearing the Countesses fine dresses and jewellery. Martha was much tamer than anticipated through the first week but that changed and the constant chastisement, angry at times, had me worried I had made a mistake. My genuine frustrations at my own ineptitude, screaming at Martha, well, when Martha, Miss Jarvis, dragged me over her knee and ripped down the cheap cotton bloomers I was wearing and spanked my bare backside, I knew then this was going to be all I had dreamed of. I protested of course, that no doubt would have been expected, but I hid the Machiavellian nature of my protestations well.

The introduction of Mrs Hardwick, Carol the maid, that Annabella had had sacked was a master stroke. I was worried, fearful even at the time. But she was good, perfect.

Carol no doubt hated Annabella and did she show it. Cutting and dying my hair was the least of it, but those feeling of just sitting there passive whilst I was shorn of my beautiful hair by an ex maid, those feelings of hopeless abandonment, was just too exquisite for words. The way she relished laying her hand or strap to my bare buttocks and humiliating me for the slightest error at my tasks had me cowering from her with just cause. I revelled in my timidity and servility her wanton abuse of me like a drug drawing me deeper into the wretched life of a maid, it was intoxicating, compelling I wanted more.

Having me whimpering and squealing whilst she thrashed me in front of the portrait of Annabella, by the mirror in the hallway. Just thinking of my own renunciation and disavowal at her hands makes me shiver in delight still. Mrs Hardwick taught me well about being a maid, she knew everything and made my tasks easier, if easier is the right word there is no easy about scrubbing, cleaning, washing, and cooking from dawn until dusk.  In fact, everything about being a maid is not easy, and I have loved every degrading, belittling minute of my servile existence. 

The eagerness in the eyes of Miss Jarvis and Mrs Hardwick when they presented their maid with its bangle of servitude. One of the Countesses collars and no doubt her idea. Constance could not have known how, having that trinket not placed, but locked around my neck, made me feel. Not only was I indeed proud to be seen to be a competent maid but the wretched humility of Annabella Montgomery being badged and  taken into service had my inner demons screaming a capitulation to my desires that almost consumed me, perhaps it did?

With Mrs Hardwick gone, no doubt with a pretty penny in her pocket, with both Miss Jarvis and Mrs Hardwick convinced they had driven Annabella beyond a point of no return, for her thoughts to be only of Annie, a humble maid,  why wouldn’t they. Everything about me. My looks, my weight and figure, my posture, myself deprecating humility. How I have clung to my sanity I do not know, even my dreams were changing, woken sweat soaked from many a nightmare. My sleep filled imaginings once of a lady being reduced to a maid, now in my dreams I am reliving my childhood and of more recent times, as if in the third person, a maid wishing for and coveting such a privileged life. Even my slumber being invaded by the rattling inviting chains of perhaps my total possession. For sure I have tiptoed and tottered along the edge of the bottomless crevasse of madness, a madness I have so convincingly portrayed to continue my depraved desires of unquestioned humble servitude.

I have continued to be the most dutiful and competent of maids from my tormentor’s teachings. Aggressive chastisements and beating became rare and I took my perverse pleasure meekly fawning over Miss Jarvis’s every wish. 

Unknown guests having arrived was a worry but no previous visitors, like those contrived by Miss Jarvis, no doubt to display and consummate my demise, or even the ground staff had recognised me so why should they? Entering the parlour and seeing that the new guests were in fact Lady Hogarth and her daughter, Auntie Maud and Cousin Emily I froze, why were they here at the Manor, hoping beyond hope she had not recognised me. How I scurried back down in the kitchens. That could have ruined everything, and I remember well those anxious emotionally draining moments before being summoned back up into the main house. It had been almost an hour, what had been said? Had aunt Maud recognised me? The look she gave me suggested she did what should I do? Confess all now, or continue? I remember my mind was scrambled opening the door to the parlour.

My heart was fluttering whilst I laid my curtsy in front of my Aunt and stared vacantly when asked if I knew who she was. I had lost my mind, according to Miss Jarvis, had Martha told her that, had she told her everything? Aunt Maud of all people, this would take all my resolve to retain my pretence.

I need have not worried, Aunt Maud’s intimidating presence and that look of disdain, of irrefutable and assured superiority possessed my whole being in an instant. The way she made me feel I swear I wanted to drop to my knees at her feet and kiss the mirror shined heeled boots that protruded from beneath her slating fine lace trimmed petticoats and silk dress.

Aunt Maud approached turning the Countesses band locked around my neck. The look in her eye told me she knew it was me alright but was saying nothing? Martha must have told her, and she appeared accepting of my new rank at Buckshire manor. My expressed pride in wearing such an adornment must have, along with my appearance and humble deportment given Aunt Maud all the proof she needed that her niece had truly lost her mind and become a housemaid.  Little did I know then that not only was she inexplicably mindful to accept Annabella’s self -sort demise but would seek her own advantage from it.

Without consideration of consequence, what was thought to be a problem, with the arrival of Lady Hogarth and her daughter, how could I possibly look on them even think of them as my Aunt and niece in my position, it served to enhance my fantasy beyond all expectations. It soon became clear this was not just a social call and that they intended to stay. It was Miss Emily, under the guidance of her mother of course, that opened a whole new prospect of possibilities to freshen and fuel my fantasies.

Returning all Annabella’s belongings to Annabella’s apartments for Miss Emily’s use was so exquisitely demeaning, especially the way Miss Emily spoke down to her maid in such derogatory terms. She could not possibly know, that the harsher her tone in her voice, the more vitriolic and condescending her words were fuelling the need of her deprecation and domination of her servile maid. Having the girl who had hung on Annabella’s every word, copied her in every way now treating me with such disdain was driving me to raptures.

I gave little thought to making small adjustments to Annabella’s dresses, evenings would often see me sewing and mending. I remember laughing to myself that my ever- expanding figure would need drastic reduction to fit into such fine clothes again.

Two or was it three weeks, I cannot recall, I was so enthralled with having a real demanding mistress in Lady Hogarth to serve. It was mid-afternoon, the reveal, left me possessed by a weakening delectable numbness bordering on the ethereal, griping me with delirious feelings of utter hopeless abandonment of self. I remember staring, just staring. One of the dresses I had adjusted, not any dress, but the one from the portrait swathed the beautiful bejewelled form sat serene. Myself, my old self, sat smiling back at me. I needed no incentive to accept this vision to be no other than Miss Annabella. Emily and Annabella had often been confused but there no confusion now. There was only one Miss Annabella at Buckshire manor, and she was sat smiling at her maid. I almost collapsed in a state of suppressed euphoria, could my self- entrapment into a life of a common maid have been so delectably orchestrated any better.

Why such a subterfuge had been concocted, what cared I, transfixed by the perfection of the deception I humbly laid a curtsy of acknowledgement.

Not only was this replicant a vision of Annabella, over the ensuing weeks her mannerisms, even aggressive petulance was displayed. Could I have wanted for more, a humble housemaid serving Miss Annabella, relishing in, by association, this total disenfranchisement of all I was. Cocky arrogant, all Miss Annabella’s traits displayed to her fawning maid.

I thought I had experienced all the emotions I could have hoped for until the first of Miss Annabella’s acquaintances started to visit Buckshire manor. Annabella held court unquestioned of her authenticity and her maid? squirming in pleasurable humble humility revelling in, delighting in its anonymity, so engrossed in its wanton servility not to question the purpose of such contrived encounters. Even just today Gwendoline and Rosemary, Miss Windburn and Miss Phillips to be more correct, visited and took tea with Miss Annabella totally deceived by her delectable deception. Gwendoline, Miss Windburn looking right through me like I was not there. I doubt I will every tire of those desirable feelings of worthless shame that engulf me when Miss Annabella and her guests treat me like they do. 

Having overhead her Aunt Maud’s and her daughter’s conversation all was now clear and, whilst loathed to do so, having come so far with her pretence, Annabella would have to call a halt. Another six months would be impossible, she was already fearful for her sanity and becoming irreversibly possessed and truly becoming maid Annie and, with knowledge of her Aunts intentions, it all had to be stopped before things went too far, if they had not already.

Annabella’s Aunt, and more so Emily, were never intended to be part of Annabella’s scheming and of her fantasy but they had, over recent months, become the core of it. With what they are planning who knows where it would lead if it continued? Annabella resolved that she would seek a private word with her Aunt. Once she realises her niece is not delusional to a point of madness and, embarrassing as it will be, admit her motivation along with the realisation of a long -held fantasy, her Aunt will understand. She may not understand, how could she, but she will accept, she will have to. Aunt Maud and Emily could stay on at Buckshire manor until her father returned if they wished, help her niece recover from what has been quite an ordeal. Whilst loathed to give this all up what choice did she have?

Lady Hogarth watched the maid serve breakfast the following morning and smiled across at her daughter. If all went to plan Buckshire manor and its wealth will soon be hers and with the real heiress Annabella having stupefied herself and now a common maid what is there to stop her.

Lady Hogarth pointed to the empty toast rack.

“More toast girl. And be quick about it.”

Annie curtsied, a soft smile on her face.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She would miss this, serving, fetch and carrying, being ever so humble. For months she had lived the life of a maid but that would all be soon over once she had spoken with her Aunt.

Mid -morning and Annie entered the drawing room closing the door behind her finding Lady Hogarth reading. Lady Hogarth looked up noticing the maid had not curtsied and a strange expression on her face.

“Have you forgotten your place girl, no curtsy, how dare you, what is it girl, what do you want?”

Lady Hogarth watched a broad smile grow across the maid’s face.

“It’s me, Auntie Maud. Annabella, your niece.”

Maud stared speechless at the maid, colour draining from her face like she had seen a ghost. She dropped her book to the floor, her spectacles fell from her face in astonishment before her eyes rolled and she collapsed back in her chair.

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