Maid in China

With Barefoot Servant still working on the next installment of Maid in China, here is a piece of art inspired by the story that one of his friends created. Do I see a comic in the making here?

In Cap and Apron: A Real Story of Going Undercover as a Victorian Maid

It is no secret that Victorians were fascinated by domestic servants. It was a forbidden, yet incredibly appealing world that was studied and observed by the upper classes much like the ethnographers in the period were studying native tribes in Africa or the Americas. And just like the best way to understand a foreign culture was working in the field, often for an extended period of time and, not infriquently, completely going native and embracing that culture as your own, the best way to undersand what it meant to be a servant was becoming one, joining the working classes.

One such student of the working classes was Elizabeth L. Banks, an American journalist, who spent most of her adult life in England. She wrote extensively on lives of poor women - maids, washerwomen, street sweeps, flower girls - and built her career as a critic of Victorian-era British class society. Her method was going undercover among the low classes to investigate their living conditions, habits and opinions, creating a sensation in 1890s London as one of the pioneers of stunt journalism. Her adventures in disguise often led to hilarious, clash-of-cultures results, but also offered a unique look into the lives of the late Victorian working classes. Banks first published her detailed accout of life as a domestic servant, appropriately called In Cap and Apron, in the Weekly Sun in 1893. It was republished in full the following year as part of her collection titled  Campaigns of curiosity, which also included her impersonating an American heiress seeking to marry an English lord and a Covent Garden flower girl.

Story: Molly in Singapore. Part 14.

By Camille Langtry and Monica Graz

Still in a state of shock, I was walking down the road toward the Signora’s house, which fortunately wasn’t very far. I was feeling very vulnerable in my fetishistic French maid’s uniform, but in this rich residential neighborhood the streets were very quiet and only an occasional car was passing or an occasional maid was walking a dog. I was immensely relieved when I suddenly realized that I was clutching my purse, which contained my cheap mobile, some small change and Signora’s house keys; I must have grabbed it on my way out without even thinking, what a relief!

I was pleased to see that nobody was in the house so I run to my room, high heels in my hands, and changed instantly into my regular uniform and apron, not forgetting my white cap. I immediately felt that I was back in my comfort zone and all of a sudden I realized how deeply dependent I have become on my maid persona.   

I began ironing in the utility room, trying to diffuse my anger and frustration. Gradually I started realizing the enormity of what has just happened. The contempt in Mark’s eyes when he made me kneel in front of him kept returning to my mind and then I remembered Dr. Caprio’s words that I would need a shock to overtake that period of my life. The shock was given to me by Mark himself and together with the shock the catharsis came; I felt free to move on now.  

Story: Fanchon's Book

When discussing Jackie J's latest story, the deliciously inventive Madame Deville, one of the readers mentioned a book with a somewhat similar plot I've never heard of: Fanchon's Book by one Zane Pella.  I decided to give it a try and, despite its somewhat over-the-top writing style, I did enjoy it. And, with a synopsis promising a story of a servant becoming a master and the master a "willing, lust-craven slave, who can do little more that writhe and slaver in frantic, body-heating desire for yet another opportunity to prove her shuddering submissiveness" how can one not enjoy this book?

Fanchon's Book was published in 1972 by Venus Library, a U.S. publishing house originally specializing in re-prints of vintage pornography, in particular American clandestine erotica from the 1920s and 1930s, that also published contemporary S/M stories. There is actually a very interesting story behind Venus Library - you can read more about it here. Fanchon's Book is apparently one of its finer releases. I was unable to find anything else by "Zane Pella", but the book's copyright is held by Gilbert Fox, who wrote a number of soft-porn books throughout the 1960s under pseudonyms Dallas Mayo and Kimberly Kemp.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Parts 9-10.

by Violet Carson

Part 9

I returned home from my meeting with Jenny in a state of shock and abject fear. I had no idea what my parents would say when they found out that I’d lied to them about Dubai and no doubt they’d be absolutely perplexed and deeply hurt by my transformation intro Rose. They may even side with Mark, thinking I’d had some kind of breakdown and be very concerned for the state of my marriage. Clearly, some of those thoughts were even shared by me. In reality all of them were:

“Why was I so drawn to becoming Rose?” I asked myself. It was humiliating, frightening and degrading, but somehow I felt totally unable to break away from this person I’d created. It was as if she was completely replacing my own personality, thoughts and tastes with those of a downtrodden poorly educated old maid, and for some inexplicable reason, I was totally engrossed.

Mark returned from work, thankfully alone and I insisted he listen to my tale of what had unfolded with Jenny. I told him I expected my mother to be in touch at anytime and that we had to admit to her that we’d lied about Dubai.

My mind raced, could we say it was some kind of social experiment? Could we say I’d just had enough of my old work or it was some crazy bet? Would she buy any of it and was our marriage effectively over?

Maid Fantasy: Vogue Germany 2011

I haven't posted fashion editorials featuring maids for quite a while, so here is a one from July 2011 with model Ginta Lapina.

Story: New Employee. Chapters 8-9

By BigBird74

8.

I woke up a few hours later slightly disoriented and unsure of what had just happened. I was in that netherworld of half-dream half-awake enjoying the sensuousness of laying in my bed smothered in cool silk sheets. I felt terrific, though had not yet remembered why I felt so good. When I did recall what had happened, I sat bolt upright with a startled jump and stared long and hard at my arms and legs. I was still brown. A very dark brown too. Obviously the lotion had continued working while I slept, pushing me further from my usual identity and skin tone.

A great sense of lethargy descended on me. I was tired from all the excitement and anxiety that had been gripping me for the past few hours and, now, in the aftermath of taking and sending those photographs I felt at ease. Perhaps it was not lethargy, but calmness I was feeling. This whole weird and warped adventure was really about to happen and, for once, it was out of my hands. In some odd fashion, the die had been cast and the big decisions already taken. The whole thing was happening way too quickly. I felt a twinge of anxiety again, but my eyes were drawn to my dark skin and I felt becalmed once more. Perhaps this adventure had already started.