I’m still working on the first chapter of The Erotic Adventures of a Lady’s Maid, my version of the Victorian sex novel that Maureen O’Leary, Lady Anna’s lady’s maid in Lust for Blood, claims to have written. It’s been a few days, and I’m probably only about a third of the way through the chapter. Keep in mind, though, that these are Victorian chapters, the sort that start with a list of subtitles, so this first chapter covers: Birth and Childhood; The Allinghams confer; Early service; The journey to Elton; Arrival in Elton; Corningwood Manor; Meeting Mrs. Allen; Duties explained; Introduction to Lady Caroline; An impudent groom; Meeting Lord Corningwood; A gift from her mistress. In other words, in a modern novel, this one chapter would likely be the first ten or twelve.
There’s no sex in “Birth and Childhood,” obviously. I write very sexual characters, but they’re all of legal age before they get into anything. The Allinghams, the solicitor and his wife who employ Cecily’s parents, do their conferring in bed, however, so we get into it fairly quickly. It’s very kinky, in a Victorian sort of way. People in late Victorian times were very staid and proper, as long as they though anyone was looking, but they could be just as weird as modern people when they were alone. 
In “The journey to Elton” section, Cecily, on her way to her new position in rural Kent, has the train compartment to herself so, naturally, she takes advantage of the solitude to masturbate her way out of London. Things will, as they say, go on from there.
There are obvious differences in writing about Victorians and writing about contemporary people. Sexuality hasn’t changed that much, but the way it’s expressed has. Victorians were flowerier, for one thing, and somewhat less inclined to using some of the more popular modern vulgarisms. Mind you, they rarely wrote “penis,” or “vulva,” or any of the proper terms, either. They were more inclined to “his massive tower of pleasure,” or “the fragrant depths of her secret cave of passion.” I don’t know if they actually talked that way, but they certainly wrote that way.
Getting into that style takes a bit of adjustment. Since the story is set in England, there’s the additional adjustment of switching to British spelling and syntax. The date of the story, mostly 1894, dictates much of the context. People are getting around in carriages, and on horseback, or by bicycle. They wear a lot more clothing than we do now. One reason lady’s maids existed was because wealthy women often wore dresses that required a second person helping to get in and out of. A bodice fastened by twenty buttons, all in the centre of the back, for example, or a laced corset that was, again, operated from behind.
You also need to figure out the back stairs hierarchy in a place such as Corningwood Manor, seat of the Corningwood family for centuries. Who works under whom, that sort of thing. A lady’s maid was something of an odd girl out in that sort of household. She was often the only female staff member who, while definitely a servant, answered directly to the lady of the house, and not to the housekeeper. Governesses were in a similar position, except that a governess was not, technically, a servant, being usually a gentlewoman with a proper education, and not working class. A lady’s companion fell into a similar category, with the most important distinction being that, while she was obviously paid for her services, she was normally treated more as a family member, including, generally, eating with the family and not with the servants.
A lady’s maid such as Cecily, who was literate, well-spoken, and properly educated, might be called upon to act as both maid and companion. She’d still eat with the servants, though, but she was presentable enough, and articulate enough, to be taken along on visits and trips.
Most Victorian lady’s maids did not, of course, provide quite the same level of intimate services Cecily provides for her employer, but Cecily is rather special, and Lady Caroline is quite beautiful and just happens to prefer other women to men. Cecily, to be honest, doesn’t discriminate.
It’s going to be an interesting book. I think I can safely say that much.
I’m wondering if I should simply shut off commenting. As it is, all comments have to be approved by me before they appear. You might notice that there aren’t any appearing here yet, which I think neatly categorizes the half dozen or so submitted daily. It’s not that I won’t approve comments, even some rather quirky ones, but I’m not going to do that if the comment has nothing whatever to do with the post, or is obviously written by a bot instead of a person. My personal favorite (I get two or three of these every day, usually on the same early post) is a long collection of paragraphs that are obviously intended as “select one” generic comments. These people don’t give a shit what they say, because the point of the comment isn’t the comment, it’s the half-dozen spam URLs included with it.