Emma Finn's Cleaner II. Book 2. Chapters 4-6.

This text is courtesy of Emma Finn's Dark Tales of Transformation blog (now sadly defunct). Cleaner II was supposed to be a trilogy of transformation novels, but the author passed away before being able to complete it. The first book was published, the second one was left unfinished on Emma's blog (and now copied to Ladies to Maids as a precaution as Emma's blog could be taken down due to inactivity. You can read Chapters 1-3 here: it was too long for Blogspot to be published on one page). The first part of Cleaner II is available from Amazon and I highly recommend it to any fan of lady-to-maid stories. This novel is second to none. There is also the original version of Cleaner, also written by Emma Finn, which shares the original premise, but is different enough (and, more importantly, it was competed by the author) - also highly recommended. 

Chapter Four - Part One

A New Person 

KATHERINE

Time hadn’t made things better. Not really.

All the passing of the weeks and months had done for Katherine was to give her time to question herself and all the choices she had made in her life as she pottered about her house and garden doing needless tidying that nobody else would ever see to appreciate.

Sixteen years as Dahlia’s personal assistant. She had been there almost from the beginning of the beautiful young woman’s modelling career; witnessed every step higher in prestige and success. She had been there for her when her parents died, helped her through the dark time of that awful breakdown that had come after. Katherine knew Dahlia better than anybody; had been there for her more than anyone else; but all she could see now, looking back, were ways in which she’d let her down.

Emma Finn's Cleaner II. Book 2. Chapters 1-3.

This text is courtesy of Emma Finn's Dark Tales of Transformation blog (now sadly defunct). Cleaner II was supposed to be a trilogy of transformation novels, but the author passed away before being able to complete it. The first book was published, the second one was left unfinished on Emma's blog (and now copied to Ladies to Maids as a precaution as Emma's blog could be taken down due to inactivity. You can read Chapters 4-6 here: it was too long for Blogspot to be published on one page). The first part of Cleaner II is available from Amazon and I highly recommend it to any fan of lady-to-maid stories. This novel is second to none. There is also the original version of Cleaner, also written by Emma Finn, which shares the original premise, but is different enough (and, more importantly, it was competed by the author) - also highly recommended. 

Prologue - Part One

KATHERINE

Katherine had told herself that after the fifteenth missed call she would go round there and knock on the door, despite Dahlia’s clear instruction that she didn’t want to be disturbed. Ever again.

But the fifteenth call came and went and still she didn’t drive up to Summertop.

She knew she should, that was the thing. She knew there was the potential for actual physical danger to her employer.

... Former employer...

And certainly danger to her fragile psyche...

But Katherine was just as afraid that any further pressure from her would be enough to split Dahlia’s mind wide open, where up to now there were only hairline cracks.

At the start of each day she told herself she would go but immediately after the resolution she would remember Dahlia’s red-rimmed eyes and desperate expression at the hospital after her brother died, as she told her to leave her alone. It couldn’t have been clearer. And though the admonition hadn’t been enough to stop Katherine sending texts of support and voicemails promising succour, she hadn’t physically made the journey. She hadn’t gone up to Dahlia’s house to see her face to face.

It was the phone call that finally clinched it; that sent Katherine hurtling finally, over the river from Nockton Vale and up the valley wall into Pinecrest village.

Story: New Employee. Chapter 6-7.

Thankfully my post a few days back made Bigbird come out from the shadows. Here are the next two chapters of his tale that has all the makings of a great lady-to-maid story.

New Employee

By BigBird74

6. The following weeks featured many more ‘little’ lies. I had to keep telling myself that that was it they were, little white lies, or else I would send myself into a panic as to what I was doing. Since I was young, I have found it easier to do difficult things if I think a little less and just act. I suppose I am naturally impulsive and, while to date, I had not suffered as a result, there were a few times I had skirted close to disaster. Still each of my new lies were now reinforcing older ones. Marta was on the books. A few days later, I had needed to make up a social security number. Then, if that was not bad enough, I crossed my own personal Rubicon. Personnel had requested a photograph.

When I first read that request my heart had jumped several somersaults and my stomach sunk to my feet. In all my planning and scheming, I had not thought that particular problem through. I searched my aching head for an alternative – any alternative – to actually sending a picture. I thought of using a fake picture off the internet, but that would merely be adding to my troubles. Oh god! I had really gotten myself into a tangle here.

It was then I considered actually taking a photograph and actually sending them a picture of Marta, well, me. My eyes ran over to the box that had been delivered some days earlier, containing the various uniforms under consideration as the new standard for all cleaning staff. I had not touched it for a day now. I giggled, mocking my own reluctance to risk opening the box, fearing a repeat of my initial, overexcited reaction.  Almost as soon as the door had slammed behind the delivery boy, I had stripped naked and tried all the uniforms on. I had squirmed as I felt the cheapness of the material up against my body and revelled in the tawdriness of it all, recalling how that cleaner had looked on her hands and knees.

Emma Finn

Dear readers of this blog,

As many of you may have heard, Emma Finn, one of the most prolific and talented authors of transformation stories, has passed away. I've been an avid fan of her writing for over a decade and, while we've never met in person, we've exchanged e-mails over the years and she'd given me some invaluable writing advice. I think that I owe her at least this short post in memoriam. I am not very good at writing obituaries or at giving speeches so please forgive me if I ramble just a bit.

People dissapear from the internet all the time. They don't answer e-mails. They stop posting on facebook or twitter. They stop updating their blogs. It's normal. Real life likes to interfer when you least expect it. It is rarely that we assume that someone who's no longer online must have died. We like to think that internet makes us eternal. At least we often behave as if it does. Sadly, with Emma there is no room for ambiguity. Ever since she announced a few months back to her readers that she had cancer I hoped against hope that she would win this battle. The fact that she continued posting - albeit not as regularly as before, but still far more often that a lot of other bloggers, myself included - only reinforced my perception that she was doing fine or, at least, better. I hate to say that I was wrong.

I first read her stories on Fictionmania around 2003 or 2004 and was struck by her unique blend of dark transformation. Her original Cleaner is still one of my all-time favorite transformation stories and a true lady-to-maid classic. Emma began work on a major expansion of that story, turning it into a novel-length study of self-destructing obsession and fetishism like no other. Sadly, only the first part (out of three) was completed. The last post she made in her blog - about a month before she died - was chapter 6 of the second part of that magnificent saga. Unfortunately, it will never be finished.

What made Emma's stories different from a lot of transformation fiction one can find online is their unparalleled quality. Simply put, this is very good literature with great dialogue, interesting plots and realistic reactions and situations. This is what makes her writing so powerful. I can only hope to one day begin to approach the same level of intensity and depth that the best of her stories posessed. I do not know what Emma's "real life" profession was, but she did treat her books as her most important occupation, sticking to a very strict publishing schedule for an extended period of time. As a reader I would never forget this dedication to the craft.

Rest in peace, dear Emma.

Story: Molly in Singapore. Part 13.

By Camille Langtry and Monica Graz

The following morning I woke up as usual and went about my cleaning and cooking routine I could now do with my eyes closed. While my hands and feet were moving almost on autopilot, my mind was racing as I was seeking immediate answers to what happened to me and how I should go about it. I was overcome with conflicting emotions of dread, excitement, curiosity, confusion and fear.

There was no denying that John Carlo forced himself on me. Did he rape me? I wasn’t too sure. I couldn’t lie to myself that I didn’t enjoy it. I did. Every second of it. And that’s what worried me. I thought I’ve long suppressed my sexual cravings, even since my romance with Mark fell through, but I’ve now discovered the side of me I didn’t know existed. And it was all Molly’s, with no Julia in sight. Julia wouldn’t even look at John Carlo twice, but for Molly he was an acceptable - and even desirable - mate.

Still, I felt like a stereotypical naive peasant girl in a big city - tricked and taken advantage of. Did John Carlo now think I was a slut because I submitted to him so easily? There was nothing in my previous life that could help me select the right course of action. If Filipino soap operas I’d been watching were any guide, I was in big, big trouble. I suddenly felt like a character in one of these TV productions - a simple girl of humble origins, who is facing the big world full of dangers of all kinds.

Story: New Employee

This story was originally published at The Changing Mirror and I thought I'd post it here - after all it references this blog directly. BigBird74 has kindly allowed me to re-publish it before going incommunicado. I hope it is finished sooner rather than later - it has the makings of one of the best-written lady2maid stories out there.

New Employee

By BigBird74

My bedroom sits at the front of the penthouse atop one of the tallest buildings in New York. Oh yes, I am fabulously rich, though unlike my snap-happy sister I do not parade it about town. My sister is what my father calls ‘the face of the family’. She is happy to cut ribbons, date reality stars and post an endless stream of fatuous photographs onto the web. Yes, she is very much the publicity hog of the family, while I prefer to play second fiddle leading a much more private life.

Sure I make it into the gossip columns every now and again, but there is no way I would ever be recognised walking down your average high street. I do not have to worry about the steady accumulation of column inches that my sister gets every time she changes the way she wears her hair. Still all is not what it seems. She recently won an award for ‘Woman of the Year’ for organising a cycling marathon that yours truly had spent an entire weekend working on, while ‘Madame Publicity’ as I called her sat by the pool.

Do I sound slightly bitter? Well, maybe I am a little. But I love my sister despite her efforts to hog every spotlight she sees. It has always been like that. I was the smart one. The dependable one. As the older sibling, my father knew that one day his vast fortune would be mine to dispense with, so naturally he tried to make sure I had the skills needed to protect his legacy. While I spent my time with him discussing numbers and buildings, my sister got to ask him which dress was prettiest. In some ways I was the son my father never had. My mother, a doe-eyed beauty queen, had left him shortly after I was born and he had never remarried. So that was it. No son, and only me to fill that hole.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Parts 4-6.

By Violet Carson Part 4

Day Two

I awoke at 6:45 to the sound of my tinny alarm and sat up in bed after a fitful night’s sleep with my mind racing as to what the next six months would hold. I got out of bed and looked at myself in the hideous dressing table mirror with my lank dark brown slightly greasy hair looking back at me. I wouldn’t have time for a shower, as I would need to get Mark’s breakfast ready for 7:15. After popping to the guest bathroom to clean my teeth and use the toilet I started to get changed.

I slipped off the dressing gown and unbuttoned the floral cotton nightie, catching site of my old slim body in the mirror. I pulled up the padded spanks and added the large cotton pants and ill-fitting bra. Like yesterday I pulled on the saggy tights and cotton slip before putting on a housecoat. I felt like a change, so I wore the pale green one and matching tabard and tried on the beige elasticated sandals for the first time. They might have looked disgusting but wow, were they comfortable; they were amazing; far more comfortable than any of my old £500 killer heels! I popped in the coloured contacts, added the glasses and quickly brushed my hair. That alone used to take me 5 minutes, now it was 30 seconds. There certainly were some advantages to being plain – comfort and speed. I didn’t put on any of the cheap makeup I’d been given, simply a quick squirt of the overly strong perfume, horribly floral not at all to my usual tastes, but probably very Rose, I thought to myself.

I was about to rush downstairs when I suddenly remembered my cigarettes. I lit one and took a few quick puffs before stubbing it out in the ashtray. I hoped Mark would notice the smell. I then hurried downstairs, all within 15 minutes of getting up, definitely a record.