Laundry Tales 12: Mob Cap

Copyright jeanne_d_artois (aka oggbashan) February 2020

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

This story is one of a series of tales told by Martha the ghost. Each one is complete in itself and they can be read in any order.

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The laundry of my ancestors' house is now my workshop. I'm a potter and good enough at my trade to make a reasonable living from it.

The main attraction of the laundry room was Martha, the resident ghost. I was aware of her from an early age. I would sit on the scrubbed table and ask Martha to tell me a story. She always did. When I became an adult, she told me about incidents from previous ages at the Hall. Each time I become the heroine of the story and experience the events exactly as she had. This is one of those stories.

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This story is one of a series of tales told by Martha the ghost. Each one is complete in itself and they can be read in any order.

The other stories are:

01 Twins' Charade

02 Riding for a Fall

03 Valentine Cake

04 Blind Man's Buff

05 Haunted Shawl

06 Nude Maiden

07 Bustling

08 Droit De Seigneur

09 Nude Fiancé

10 Lady of Misrule

11 The Maze

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I was storing through a bag with some scraps of material that I thought I could use for a patchwork quilt. The bag probably hadn't been open since the 1890s. I found something that looked made up, not a loose piece. I could feel there were other complete garments in the bag as well.

"You've found one of Angela's mob caps." Martha's voice sounded in my head. "It's probably too large for you. She was a large woman with a shock of curly blonde hair that she was proud of. Her mob caps annoyed her fiancé Joshua. He thought they were too large and made her look stupid. But..."

As usual when Martha started telling me about people from the past of our family country house I found myself turning into the main character. I was still holding that mob cap but I was in the laundry as it had been in the middle of the 19th century. I was a large and tall woman wearing an ankle length black skirt, a white cotton blouse and I was just about to cover my hair with the mob cap to protect it from the damp heat of the laundry.

"Do you have to, Angela?" My fiancé Joshua had just walked into the laundry. It was an inconvenient time. I was just about to start a boil wash of white underwear.

"I have to protect my hair from the steam, Joshua and a mob cap does just that. Anyway, why are you here? I'm working. Why aren't you?"

"I AM working," he protested. "The butler sent me across to collect some old tea towels that he needs for polishing the silver."

"They're on the bench over there. I was going to take them to the house when the boil wash is under way - in about five minutes."

I finished putting my mob cap on and adjusted it so all my hair was inside.

Joshua picked up the neatly folded pile of tea towels and walked towards the door. He turned in the doorway.

"I think you look ridiculous wearing such a large mob cap, Angela," he said. "I like to see your hair."

"You wouldn't like it if my hair was just hanging lankly because the steam had taken out my curls. Go on. Off with you! I'll see you in the servants' hall this evening."

Joshua shook his head and then he was gone. What had he got against mob caps? All of us servants have to wear protective clothing for some tasks. Joshua wears a brown apron when cleaning and filling the oil lamps or when helping the butler to clean silver. What is the difference between his apron and my mob cap? Both are useful for their purpose.

I had an evil thought. What if I could get Joshua to wear a mob cap? I almost dismissed it instantly. He would object and although I am slightly taller than him I wouldn't be strong enough to hold him down and force a mob cap on his head.

I went on with the task of increasing the fire under the boil wash. I would have to keep that fire hot enough to have the water boiling for a whole hour and stir the washing sometimes. But once it was going I would have some spare time while I watched.

Ten minutes later I could relax. I glanced around the laundry room. There was a heap of freshly washed clothes that the housekeeper had sorted out as being useless now. They might be used for repairing other items of clothing and I had thought I could make myself another mob cap from some of the whites. They had only been there an hour and I could have first pick. Normally there would be several laundry maids but the housekeeper had borrowed the rest of them to sort out linen. I had been left because the boil wash was urgent.

The mistress had been embarrassed recently. A guest had put her foot through a threadbare sheet. That wasn't surprising. The newest sheets were at least twenty years old. The mistress had persuaded the master that money needed to be spent on new sheets. The housekeeper was enjoying herself sorting out linen she had wanted to lose years ago.

I walked over to the heap. The largest item was one of Lady Emily's long petticoats. She had died over twenty years ago and hadn't worn that petticoat for fifty years before that. She had been a very tall lady with long legs. The petticoat had been for a Regency ball gown and fastened beneath her breasts. I held it up against me. It stretched from my shoulders almost to my ankles. I had thought I could use the material for several Mob Caps. It was worn and threadbare at the bottom but otherwise in good condition. If I took a couple of inches off the lower hem it would be sound and strong. I wondered.

I went back to stoking the fire as the water was coming off the boil.

If I used Lady Emily's petticoat for the idea that was forming in my head I would have to make my mob caps from something else. I rummaged through the heap and found a more modern petticoat that was badly torn, almost detaching the lace trimming. It had been made to go over a smallish crinoline, smaller than anyone would wear now. It would still be enough for two or three mob caps, even ones large enough for me.

While I watched over the fire for the boil wash I started sewing on Lady Emily's petticoat. I could sew fast, not as fast as the new and expensive sewing machines that were just becoming available, but fast enough. What I was intending didn't have to be neat - just strong. When I had finished I cut out material for three Mob Caps including one even larger than my existing ones. I finished that one but couldn't start on the other two before the boil wash ended and I had to wring the clothes out and use the mangle before hanging them up in the drying room. They would need ironing tomorrow.

I went to the servants' hall carrying what I had sewn and the material for the two other mob caps in a bag... It was empty except for Joshua, He poured me a cup of tea and sat down on a stool.

"Good," He said, "You've shed that stupid mob cap, Angela."

"What have you got against mop caps?" I asked.

"They make you look stupid." He replied.

"Is that so?"

Joshua should have recognised the sarcasm in my voice. He didn't. That gave me the resolve to pursue the course of action I had planned. I stood behind him, reached into the bag and pulled out Lady Emily's modified petticoat. I spread out the lower hem and pulled it down around him. It covered him completely down to his knees and his head was inside it. I tightened the ribbon I had sewn in a tunnel at the lower edge. That clamped his legs to the stool and his arms were held by the narrowness of the upper part.

I brought the new large mob cap out of the bag and covered his head with it. I tied the ribbon around his neck as he started to object. He shook his head violently but he couldn't displace the mob cap hooding him. I tightened the wide waistband of the petticoat over his mouth. That forced the material of the mob cap between his lips and his protests became unintelligible.

"I think I have made Joshua look stupid," I said as he wriggled futilely on the stool.

I had excited myself by making Joshua my helpless prisoner. I shouldn't have, but I heaved his shrouded head against my clothed cleavage. I might have been smothering him but he immediately stopped struggling. I wrapped my arms around his hooded head and pulled his face deep between my breasts for a few seconds. He shuddered down below as he ejaculated into his pants. When I released the pressure he was breathing fast through his nose. I thought I was actually suffocating him so I relented, unfastened the petticoat's waistband and pushed it down around his neck.

I had tied the mob cap with a too tight knot that took a few seconds to undo. When I lifted it off his head his face was bright red. He panted through his mouth for about half a minute before he could speak. My cleavage was a few inches from his face.

"Wow, Angela. Just wow. You have made me look stupid but..."

"I smothered you with my breasts?" I finished for him.

"Yes, That was worth looking stupid."

"OK, Joshua. I'll let you go if you agree to two conditions."

"I haven't got much choice, have I?" he said. "If someone walks in I'll look like an idiot. What conditions?"

"You'll let me trap you in this petticoat when we are alone and hood you with this mob cap if I want to, and..."

"And?"

"Accept that you are mine. If you do, you'll meet my breasts again each time."

"Agreed." Joshua said.

"Agreed?" I queried.

"Yes, Angela, agreed - and, although I'd rather be free before saying this - will you marry me?"

I was startled. I heaved his naked face into my cleavage again.

"Yes, Joshua, I will marry you but you will be my prisoner again and again."

I pulled back slightly so he could breathe.

"Thank you, fiancée," Joshua said.

I smothered him again.

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I heard Martha laughing at me.

"You've got it wrong. You're supposed to trap Joshua, not yourself."

My body was sheathed in Angela's modified version of Lady Emily's petticoat and the large mob cap had hooded my head. I struggled to free myself with Martha's laughter ringing in my ears.

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