Story: Biometrics don't lie. Part 4.

 by Melissa

Part 4. My first day working as a school maid

As the first rays of dawn crept through the narrow window of my room in the maid's quarters, I was jolted awake by a sharp knock on the door. "Melissa Jones!" a stern voice called out, its urgency breaking the stillness of the early morning. Rising groggily from my makeshift bed, I realized I had slept in the uncomfortable maid's uniform I had been given by the receptionist. I hurried to the door, my mind still fuzzy from sleep. Standing before me was a tall and imposing woman with a stern expression. She was dressed in a traditional maid's uniform of black dress and white apron. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she had a clipboard in her hand. 

"Girl, I am Mrs. Henderson, the head maid, and you're late for your morning cleaning duties," she barked, her voice echoing in the small room. "Get down to the common area immediately." 

My heart sank. I had hoped that the confusion of the previous day would be resolved overnight, but it was clear that my predicament was far from over. I tried to explain my situation. "Ma'am," I began, my voice trembling slightly, "I am not a school maid. My name is indeed Melissa Jones, but I am a student who arrived yesterday." 

Mrs. Henderson raised an eyebrow, her expression sceptical. "A student?" she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. "Dressed like that?", she said looking at my maid's uniform. "Besides," the head maid added, "that's impossible. According to our records, you are the delinquent school maid who is currently serving community service." 

I tried to protest, starting to explain the theft of my the train ticket, the missed car and the circumstances of my registration in the biometrics system, but Mrs. Henderson remained unconvinced. As I insisted, she marched over to the fingerprinting device and placed my hand on the scanner. The device beeped, confirming my identity as the delinquent school maid. The head maid's lips curled into a smug smile, her disbelief now replaced by a sense of triumph. "See?" she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Biometrics don't lie. Your fingerprints match the records. You're Melissa Jones, the delinquent school maid, and that's all there is to it." 

Story: Biometrics don't lie. Part 3.

by Melissa 

Part 3. My arrival at the school 

As the rain poured down relentlessly, drenching me to the bone, I stood before the imposing gates of Elmwood Academy, my heart pounding in my chest. The journey had been a series of unfortunate events, from the theft of my first-class ticket to the loss of my luggage and the missed car. Now, I found myself shivering and soaked in front of the intercom, on a Sunday evening, hoping that someone would hear my plea for help. I pressed the button, my finger trembling slightly. "Hello?" I called out, my voice laced with desperation. "Is anyone there?" The silence that followed was deafening, a harsh contrast to the relentless drumming of the rain on the pavement. 

A surge of panic threatened to overwhelm me as I pressed the button again, my voice trembling as I uttered my name and asked for assistance. Still, no answer came. I was soaked to the bone, my clothes clinging to my shivering form as the wind whipped through my hair. The rain seemed to mock my predicament, a relentless reminder of my isolation and vulnerability. Just when I was about to give up hope, a woman's voice crackled through the intercom, startling me out of my despair. "Hello?" the woman asked, slightly muffled "This is the receptionist." 

"Thank goodness," I exclaimed, relief washing over me. "I'm Melissa Jones, the new student. I was supposed to be picked up by a car from the school, but I missed it. Could you please let me inside?" 

"Melissa Jones you say," the receptionist replied. "Just wait for a minute, I will check the database." 

Story: Biometrics don't lie. Parts 1-2.

by Melissa

Part 1. On my way to my new home

Nestled comfortably in the plush armchair of the first-class train compartment, I gazed out the window, watching the world blur past in a kaleidoscope of colors. My heart pounded with a mix of excitement and apprehension as I embarked on this journey to Elmwood Academy, a prestigious all-female private boarding school where I had been accepted. The thought of living there independently for the next six months, without the constant presence of my family, was both daunting and exhilarating. 

Just days ago, I had bid farewell to my parents, their departure for a six-month Mars simulation mission marking the beginning of my independent journey. Elmwood Academy awaited me, ready to nurture my academic aspirations and provide a stimulating environment for personal growth. The idea of living independently at Elmwood filled me with a mix of excitement and nervousness. I would be on my own for the next six months, without the support of my parents. But I knew that I was up for such a challenge. I had always been independent and self-reliant, and I was confident that I could manage my life at Elmwood with ease. 

As the train drew closer to Elmwood Academy, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels mirroring the pounding of my heart, I found myself lost in a sea of thoughts, reflecting on the person I was and the person I aspired to be. I was Melissa Jones, a young woman with a voracious thirst for knowledge, a dreamer with a heart full of ambition. I was eager to explore the world around me, to delve into the depths of human understanding, and to make a positive impact on the lives of those around me. Yet, I was also aware of my own limitations, the insecurities that held me back, and the fears that threatened to stifle my dreams. I knew that I had the potential to achieve great things, but I also recognized the need for growth, the need to shed my inhibitions and embrace the power within me. 

Elmwood Academy, with its promise of academic rigor, intellectual stimulation, and a supportive community of female peers, seemed like the perfect catalyst for my transformation. I envisioned myself stepping into this vibrant environment, surrounded by like-minded girls, all eager to challenge themselves and reach their full potential. I imagined myself engaging in stimulating discussions, challenging my assumptions, and expanding my horizons. I envisioned myself participating in research projects, exploring new ideas, and making groundbreaking discoveries. Most importantly, I envisioned myself shedding my self-doubt and embracing my leadership potential. I saw myself stepping up to take on challenges, voicing my opinions with confidence, and inspiring others with my passion and determination. 

Elmwood Academy, with its commitment to fostering female leadership, seemed like the perfect place for me to blossom into the leader I had always wanted to be. I believed that the school's nurturing environment and supportive community would provide me with the guidance, mentorship, and encouragement I needed to unleash my leadership potential and make a meaningful difference in the world. 

Story: Dr. Jackie and maid Hyde. Chapters 12-20 and Epilogue.

by The Yellow "M"

Chapter 12. An unexpected visitor.

In front of her, maid Hyde discovered Mrs. Smith, the wealthy CEO of a major cleaning company who had invested heavily in Dr. Jackie's research. Mrs. Smith, her face etched with a mixture of determination and menace, strode into the room. Her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of curiosity and determination. "Dr. Jackie," Mrs. Smith began in a stern voice, "you promised to develop the perfect aptitude test for cleaners and I'm here to ensure that your research continues unabated." 

Maid Hyde's heart sank. She had hoped to distance herself from Dr. Jackie, to escape the pressures of her former life. But Mrs. Smith's presence was a stark reminder that others still considered her to be bound by Dr. Jackie's obligations. "But I'm not Dr. Jackie," maid Hyde protested weakly. "I don't know anything about her research." 

Mrs. Smith's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through maid Hyde's facade. "Don't play games with me," she hissed. "I know who you are, and I know what you're capable of. You're going to finish your research, or you'll regret it." 

"With all due respect, Mrs. Smith," maid Hyde replied, her voice firm despite the tremor that laced it, "That is not going to happen. I am just a maid, not a Doctor. I don't know anything about genetics. I can't resume Dr. Jackie's research." 

Story: Dr. Jackie and maid Hyde. Chapters 1-11.

This story initially appeared in the comments section in response to a comment from an anonymous reader. The author, Yellow M, ended up writing one of the most original lady2maid stories in recent memory that deserves its own post. Here are the slightly revised first chapters of "Dr. Jackie and maid Hyde." The following 11 chapters and the epilogue completing this story will be published shortly. 

Story: Dr. Jackie and maid Hyde.

by The Yellow "M"

 

Chapter 1. The scientist.

Dr. Jackie was a leading geneticist. She was doing research about the gene of cleanliness, even though she completely lacked that quality herself. To tell the truth, Dr. Jackie was a complete slob who constantly needed other people to clean her mess. She had employed many maids over the years, but all of them found working for her hard, ungrateful and scary. It had now been several week since Dr. Jackie's last maid fled in terror after a failed experiment that nearly blew up the lap. And since then, Dr. Jackie had been unable to find a new maid.

Without a maid, the messiness of the lab had become so extreme that Dr. Jackie couldn't continue working on her experiments. Her research had grinded to a complete halt. As a result, Dr. Jackie couldn't deliver the interim report she promised to the investor who was financing her research. The investor had complained and threatened to end her financing. Dr. Jackie's whole research was in jeopardy. 

Dr. Jackie had even tried to clean her own lab, but to no avail. The cleanliness gene was recessive and completely inactivated in her. As a result, all her attempts at cleaning only made things even more messy. But if nobody was willing to clean the lab for Dr. Jackie and if she couldn't do it herself, what was to be done? 

Story: From Alpha Female To Submissive

By Peter242

Samantha was thirty-eight and a senior executive in a finance company. Initially, she loved the job, but now, even though she was one of the most senior people in the office, she hated the pressure of the job and the responsibility.  

Hannah was Samantha's assistant. She was twenty-four but was proving herself to be exceptionally good. She was happy to take on more and more responsibility and was even starting to go to client meetings by herself and was proving to be successful in obtaining new business for the company. 

Samantha took Hannah out for lunch to discuss how things were going. It was over that lunch when Samantha had probably had a couple of drinks too much and started to open up about her desire to wind down. "The stress is really getting to me, Hannah," Samantha said. She then added, "I can never wait to get home and wind down." 

Hannah asked because she was interested, "Tell me, Samantha, how do you wind down?"

 

Story: The Job Interview. Part 4.

By Inanimate77

Amy was a little out of breath when she arrived at her new job. Looking down at her phone she noticed that she had just made it with about two minutes to spare. The college student took a moment to collect herself before ringing the doorbell.  While this might not be her dream job, she certainly did not want to make a bad first impression.

Once she had caught her breath, Amy rang the doorbell. Although Amy's things had already been moved into her room, her employer had insisted on this formality. It was supposed to signify the formal change in their relationship - the moment in which Susan officially became Amy's employer.

As Amy waited by the door, she had a brief moment of panic when she realized that she had not put the apron and cap back on. A flurry of activity quickly ensued as she frantically tried to fix her appearance before her new employer arrived at the door.

She had just managed to finish tying her apron when Susan opened the door. "You're right on time girl. I like punctuality in the help."

Amy was so discombobulated from her mad dash over that she didn't unpack what had just been said. She responded, "I’m ready and excited to get started.”

"Ma'am," Susan replied.

"Pardon?"

"I’m ready and excited to get started, Ma'am." Susan scolded her new employee. "You're in my service now. I will not tolerate any informality."