Looks like its really part of the painting ... way way good work !The Study at Cruxton Abbey
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Alice has been told to await his Lordship in the study, but that was many hours ago, and she has become tired of waiting... Of course, his Lordship is a very busy man, with numerous matters of a domestic nature constantly demanding his attention. But now at last, she can hear footsteps approaching - quickly, it's time to get up!
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Cruxton Abbey
- Thread starter Wragg
- Start date
E-DigitalFantasy
Tribune
Alice won't fail to please! Wonderful work Bob.The Morning Room at Cruxton Abbey
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Lord Wragg is trying to persuade Lady Wragg of the need to audition for veil dancers among the domestic staff, and so Alice demonstrates her talents, in the hope of making a good impression. Lady Wragg appears somewhat straitlaced, but ultimately she will be convinced by such a virtuoso performance.
The original painting by Johan Krouthen dates from 1887.
The Dining Room at Cruxton Abbey 2
Remarkably, it has been three and a half years since we looked inside the dining room, and very little has changed since our last visit. The maids are occasionally seen here, and Julia has been busy setting the table for Lord Wragg's guests this evening. She is feeling greatly relieved to have survived her recent ordeal of posing for the artists of the Cruxton Group, renowned as they are for the physically demanding roles expected of their models. Following the latest session she merely observed, 'I did not expect to be celebrating my birthday like this!'
Happy Birthday Julia Yaroshenko 14 August 2023 - 34 years old today
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She's just been told that she's guest of honour at tonight's meal -The Dining Room at Cruxton Abbey 2
Remarkably, it has been three and a half years since we looked inside the dining room, and very little has changed since our last visit. The maids are occasionally seen here, and Julia has been busy setting the table for Lord Wragg's guests this evening. She is feeling greatly relieved to have survived her recent ordeal of posing for the artists of the Cruxton Group, renowned as they are for the physically demanding roles expected of their models. Following the latest session she merely observed, 'I did not expect to be celebrating my birthday like this!'
14 August 2023 - 34 years old today
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but a good nosh-up is the least that old Wragg could do for her after that!
How do you get the hair ... you Bob and Jolly , Wragg do this , this is really impressive work !The Dining Room at Cruxton Abbey 2
Remarkably, it has been three and a half years since we looked inside the dining room, and very little has changed since our last visit. The maids are occasionally seen here, and Julia has been busy setting the table for Lord Wragg's guests this evening. She is feeling greatly relieved to have survived her recent ordeal of posing for the artists of the Cruxton Group, renowned as they are for the physically demanding roles expected of their models. Following the latest session she merely observed, 'I did not expect to be celebrating my birthday like this!'
14 August 2023 - 34 years old today
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Subtraction - Bob taught me how to do it. You set up a layer mask where the parts of the image that you want are white, and those you don't are black. It's nearly impossible to cut out strands of hair, but with subtraction you can produce a high contrast white mask which preserves every strand - assuming you have decent contrast between the hair and the background.
Thanks GoatJr, you have been paying close attention to pictures which are produced by layer masking. As Wragg explains, there are tools in Photoshop which remove the background, revealing the fine detail of foreground edges, e.g. hair. If the source image has high contrast between the hair outline and the background, a layer mask can be created in black and white, using the dodge and burn tools.
There are many video tutorials for learning the techniques of layer masking. This one, by Piximperfect, demonstrates the use of the background eraser tool in conjunction with layer masking, to extract hair. I spent many hours watching the basic tutorials on masking in Photoshop whilst I was learning this technique. The level of success in hair extraction often depends on the quality of the source image. I hope you will find this useful.
And sometimes, depending on your image, you still have to use your layer mask to "draw" the hair back in. This takes time. There is no real silver bullet for doing hair.
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Cruxton Abbey has no in-house team of pretty hairdressers, then?
I use Paintshop Pro but the same techniques work there.Thanks GoatJr, you have been paying close attention to pictures which are produced by layer masking. As Wragg explains, there are tools in Photoshop which remove the background, revealing the fine detail of foreground edges, e.g. hair. If the source image has high contrast between the hair outline and the background, a layer mask can be created in black and white, using the dodge and burn tools.
There are many video tutorials for learning the techniques of layer masking. This one, by Piximperfect, demonstrates the use of the background eraser tool in conjunction with layer masking, to extract hair. I spent many hours watching the basic tutorials on masking in Photoshop whilst I was learning this technique. The level of success in hair extraction often depends on the quality of the source image. I hope you will find this useful.
The Pumpkin Patch at Cruxton Abbey
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Hoping to avoid Halloween sabbats, tricks and spells this year, Lady Wragg has decided to keep the maids occupied all day in the pumpkin patch. She is pleased to find that none of the pumpkins have been turned into lanterns, but she wishes she had brought a bigger car to collect the harvest.
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Alice and Courtney are busy counting the pumpkins whilst Ariel takes a rest. She has not taken advantage of her traditional tar and feather flying spell for Halloween this year, although she has just recognised somebody else who has used the spell and metamorphosed into a crow. This might yet put their plans at risk.
Unknown to Lady Wragg, the maids have a plan to celebrate Halloween. With some subtle persuasion from Alice, she will pass through the looking glass to discover an unfamiliar world, and more importantly, allow her domestic staff to take a night off. But she hesitates, unsure if her maids have delivered a trick or treat...?
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Whereas Lord Wragg wishes she'd brought a horse and cart! It's a Bentley, woman, not a tractor!
But don't the girls look lovely?
They look far more elegant in the altogether than Lady W does in all her finery!
The Bedroom at Cruxton Abbey 3
Katty has been summoned to Lord Wragg's bedroom, where he is engaged on auditions for veil dancers to entertain his prestigious guests. His Lordship is surprised to discover that the maids are now required to wear uniforms, which are hardly suitable attire for veil dancing. When he demands an explanation, Katty insists, 'I was not expecting to spend my birthday dressed like this...'
Happy Birthday Katya Clover 12 November 2023 - 34 years old today
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That's the most I've ever seen Katty wearing, I nearly didn't recognise herThe Bedroom at Cruxton Abbey 3
Katty has been summoned to Lord Wragg's bedroom, where he is engaged on auditions for veil dancers to entertain his prestigious guests. His Lordship is surprised to discover that the maids are now required to wear uniforms, which are hardly suitable attire for veil dancing. When he demands an explanation, Katty insists, 'I was not expecting to spend my birthday dressed like this...'
12 November 2023 - 34 years old today
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What I did recognise, however, was the painting over the little table next to Lily!
Yes, it's an unusual look for Katty, although the painting is slightly more representative - and I was confident that you would recognise the artwork from '...The Lady Jasmine'.That's the most I've ever seen Katty wearing, I nearly didn't recognise her
What I did recognise, however, was the painting over the little table next to Lily!
And the table lamp neatly hides my irritating caption!Yes, it's an unusual look for Katty, although the painting is slightly more representative - and I was confident that you would recognise the artwork from '...The Lady Jasmine'.
Kathy
Terra Nova Tramp
This is the way my CF alter ego usually appears hereThat's the most I've ever seen Katty wearing, I nearly didn't recognise her
JEUNE DRESSEUSE
Executioner
cynthia the inocent
Tribune
I think Lady Wragg has latent lesbian tendencies. Most women do
There was nowhere in all England as festive as Cruxton Abbey at Christmas. From the gloriously lit gardens, past the forty foot tall fully decorated tree in the great hallway, and into any room you pleased to visit all was a merry blaze of colours and bells which could not fail to warm the coldest of hearts.
The serving maids, lightly dressed though they habitually were, sported holly sprigs in their hair, bright red g-strings, and festive tassels on their nipples. Even Lord Wragg smiled as Barbara approached him with a silver salver upon which was yet another holly sprig, an empty glass and a full decanter of claret.
Full of yuletide cheer on Christmas Eve, his Lordship nevertheless refrained from whacking her tight little, which always forced her to spill the claret and thus give him an excuse to cart her off to the dungeons. Today he was content to sit quietly, admiring the view, as with unerring precision she dispensed a glass of claret without spilling a single drop.
Task completed, she straightened up, tassels swinging enticingly, and regarded him suspiciously.
“Are you quite well, milord?” she enquired.
“I am perfectly fine, thank you, Barbara.” He raised his glass, inspected the claret critically, then, finding it to his liking, he wished her a very Merry Christmas, before sipping it appreciatively.
“And to you, too, milord.” Barb bowed, and withdrew decorously to the kitchen, where she found Alice industriously peeling potatoes ready for tomorrow’s dinner. Alice expertly flicked a stray piece of potato peel off her own nipple tassel, then looked up as Barb entered.
She saw the puzzled expression on Barb’s face. “What’s up, Barb?”
“I just served His Gropiness with a glass of Claret in the library and he never even glanced at my tight little, let alone whack it as usual.” She turned so that Alice could study that part of her anatomy, which, clad only in the aft parts of a G-string, was perfectly adequately displayed. “Does my bum look big in this?” she asked, with concern.
It was Alice’s professional opinion that Barb had by far the finest hindquarters ever sat upon by woman, and a critical inspection revealed not one jot of deterioration. “No, Barb. It, like the rest of you, is looking wonderful.”
“I do hope he’s not ill.” Barb looked worried. “I mean, I know he’s a miserable randy old git, but I wouldn’t wish misfortune upon him, especially not at Christmas.”
Just at that moment, the bell from the library rang. Alice dried her hands and checked herself in the mirror. “I’ll go,” she said. “I always end up in his lap whenever I go to him.”
So Barb took over the potatoes, and Alice headed to the library.
“You rang, milord?”
“Ah, Alice!” he gazed at her appreciatively enough over the top of his glasses. “I find myself feeling a little peckish. I wondered if you might bring me a bowl of nuts?”
“Very good, milord.” Mystified, Alice bowed, and withdrew.
“He just wants a bowl of nuts,” she reported to Barb.
“What, he didn’t want you to sit on his lap?”
“Nope. Just asked for nuts and that was it,” replied Alice, pouring some assorted nuts into a bone china bowl.
“Well, take him those, and I’ll see you in an hour,” Barb winked knowingly.
Back in the library, Alice approached His Lordship.
“Your nuts, milord.” She always enjoyed saying that.
She placed the bowl on the table beside him, then alluringly leaned across him to fetch the nutcracker nearer. Her nipple tassel was barely inches from his nose, which was also within the almost visible cloud of her perfume, but nevertheless she retrieved the nutcracker and set it up beside him without incident.
He took the nutcracker himself and happily cracked open a walnut.
“Thank you, Alice,” he said. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, sir… Err, will there be anything else?”
“No thank you, Alice, these nuts are perfectly satisfactory.”
“Very good, milord.”
Back in the kitchen, Alice was completely nonplussed. “That’s it.” she said. “He’s gone off his trolley.”
“I thought you were back quick! What, didn’t he even touch you, either?”
“No.. he looked at me happily enough, but that was it. I practically waved my boobs in his face, but all I got was ‘thank you Alice, Merry Christmas.’”
“We’re doomed,” said Barb. “I’d better start looking for another job.”
“Me too, but I’ll never find one as good as this. And we’d never find somewhere where we could work together..” Alice had tears in her eyes.
Just then, Briggs, the butler, came in.
“Good afternoon, Miss Kiss, Miss Moore.”
“Good afternoon, Mr Briggs,” they chorused.
“Are you all right, ladies? You seem a little edgy?”
“We’re worried about His Lordship,” announced Barb.
“He’s just not himself today!” added Alice.
“In what way is he ‘not himself’? He was every inch Lord Wragg when I parted from him, not twenty minutes ago!”
“He’s not as… friendly as usual,” stated Barb, trying to be diplomatic.
“Has he been discourteous in some manner?” Briggs raised an eyebrow. It didn’t seem to him to be in the least unusual for Lord Wragg to be discourteous.
“No, just less, um, attentive.” Barb felt she was beginning to struggle rather.
Briggs gazed at her without the slightest sign of comprehension. Excellent butler though he was, he never had and never would understand the serving girls. They were something of an alien species to him. “Miss Moore, I fear that I do not have the faintest idea what you mean. Please accept my assurance that His Lordship is in perfectly robust health, and you need have no concerns on that score. I suggest that you both get on with your tasks!”
Barb gave up. “Very good, Mr Briggs.” She turned her attention to the spuds and bashed them thoroughly. Alice set to work on the parsnips.
Eventually, Briggs had done whatever it was that he had come to the kitchen to do and he departed.
“Fat lot of good he was,” grumbled Alice.
“Wrong kind of chromosomes,” agreed Barb. “We need Eulalia. She will know!”
Eulalia was Lady Wragg’s Lady in Waiting, and there was nothing that she didn’t know about the Earl and Countess of Cruxton, nor indeed about anything else that was worth knowing.
“She’ll be here at three for her tea!” Eulalia was as reliable as clockwork.
At five to three Alice made sure that the kettle was boiling, and she had the tea poured just as the Westminster chimes were sounding from the grandfather clock in the hall. True to form, Eulalia entered on the stroke of the hour.
“Hullo, Alice! Hullo, Barb! Oh! Tea! Thank you!” Eulalia always seemed both surprised and grateful to find tea awaiting her, even though she would wonder if the earth had ceased to revolve upon its axis if it wasn’t there.
Alice passed her a freshly baked mince pie. “Eul, can we ask you something?”
“You don’t need to. You are wondering if Lord Wragg is quite well?”
Barb and Alice goggled at her in shock. “How did you know?”
“Well, unless I am much mistaken, Barb’s tight little has remained unslapped and Alice has not been required to spend an hour sat in his lap?”
“Exactly, Eul! Barb’s been all ready to start scanning the ‘Situations Vacant’ columns in ‘The Lady’”
“Oh, don’t do that, Barb. Your job’s perfectly safe. You’ll see.”
“I’ll see what, and when?” Barb was intrigued.
But that was all that Eulalia had to say on the subject, and nothing more could be extracted from her on the subject from then until bedtime, leaving Barb and Alice seething with curiosity – especially after they had served his Lordship with five courses at dinner, and not even the after dinner port and cigars brought the slightest reaction from Lord Wragg, other than polite ‘thank yous’ and ‘that will be alls’.
So to bed they went none the wiser.
T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the Abbey
Not a creature was stirring, even Wragg wasn’t crabby
When, just before dawn, there came a great shout
And nobody knew what the fuss was about!
From the dungeons at Cruxton came cries of great glee
So Barb’ra, unwisely, rushed straight down to see
With Alice behind her she rushed down the stair
They were shocked to discover what greeted them there!
A large new contraption, created from wood
Delivered by Santa ‘cos Wragg had been good;
And Wraggy was flowing with deep Christmas joy
So thoroughly chuffed with his new Christmas toy!
And they knew he was back – that Lord Wragg of old
The moment he saw them, they heard themselves told:
“Come Barb’ra, come Alice – lay down on your back
I’d love you to try out my two-person rack!”
They took off their nightwear, they knew that they should
(For maids in the dungeon must always be nude.)
They lay down as bid, for they were good girls
As the rack was adjusted, the ropes were unfurled;
They did not complain as he fitted the tether
Then turning the ratchet they both stretched together!
And together they cried, as the rack pulled them tight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
The serving maids, lightly dressed though they habitually were, sported holly sprigs in their hair, bright red g-strings, and festive tassels on their nipples. Even Lord Wragg smiled as Barbara approached him with a silver salver upon which was yet another holly sprig, an empty glass and a full decanter of claret.
Full of yuletide cheer on Christmas Eve, his Lordship nevertheless refrained from whacking her tight little, which always forced her to spill the claret and thus give him an excuse to cart her off to the dungeons. Today he was content to sit quietly, admiring the view, as with unerring precision she dispensed a glass of claret without spilling a single drop.
Task completed, she straightened up, tassels swinging enticingly, and regarded him suspiciously.
“Are you quite well, milord?” she enquired.
“I am perfectly fine, thank you, Barbara.” He raised his glass, inspected the claret critically, then, finding it to his liking, he wished her a very Merry Christmas, before sipping it appreciatively.
“And to you, too, milord.” Barb bowed, and withdrew decorously to the kitchen, where she found Alice industriously peeling potatoes ready for tomorrow’s dinner. Alice expertly flicked a stray piece of potato peel off her own nipple tassel, then looked up as Barb entered.
She saw the puzzled expression on Barb’s face. “What’s up, Barb?”
“I just served His Gropiness with a glass of Claret in the library and he never even glanced at my tight little, let alone whack it as usual.” She turned so that Alice could study that part of her anatomy, which, clad only in the aft parts of a G-string, was perfectly adequately displayed. “Does my bum look big in this?” she asked, with concern.
It was Alice’s professional opinion that Barb had by far the finest hindquarters ever sat upon by woman, and a critical inspection revealed not one jot of deterioration. “No, Barb. It, like the rest of you, is looking wonderful.”
“I do hope he’s not ill.” Barb looked worried. “I mean, I know he’s a miserable randy old git, but I wouldn’t wish misfortune upon him, especially not at Christmas.”
Just at that moment, the bell from the library rang. Alice dried her hands and checked herself in the mirror. “I’ll go,” she said. “I always end up in his lap whenever I go to him.”
So Barb took over the potatoes, and Alice headed to the library.
“You rang, milord?”
“Ah, Alice!” he gazed at her appreciatively enough over the top of his glasses. “I find myself feeling a little peckish. I wondered if you might bring me a bowl of nuts?”
“Very good, milord.” Mystified, Alice bowed, and withdrew.
“He just wants a bowl of nuts,” she reported to Barb.
“What, he didn’t want you to sit on his lap?”
“Nope. Just asked for nuts and that was it,” replied Alice, pouring some assorted nuts into a bone china bowl.
“Well, take him those, and I’ll see you in an hour,” Barb winked knowingly.
Back in the library, Alice approached His Lordship.
“Your nuts, milord.” She always enjoyed saying that.
She placed the bowl on the table beside him, then alluringly leaned across him to fetch the nutcracker nearer. Her nipple tassel was barely inches from his nose, which was also within the almost visible cloud of her perfume, but nevertheless she retrieved the nutcracker and set it up beside him without incident.
He took the nutcracker himself and happily cracked open a walnut.
“Thank you, Alice,” he said. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, sir… Err, will there be anything else?”
“No thank you, Alice, these nuts are perfectly satisfactory.”
“Very good, milord.”
Back in the kitchen, Alice was completely nonplussed. “That’s it.” she said. “He’s gone off his trolley.”
“I thought you were back quick! What, didn’t he even touch you, either?”
“No.. he looked at me happily enough, but that was it. I practically waved my boobs in his face, but all I got was ‘thank you Alice, Merry Christmas.’”
“We’re doomed,” said Barb. “I’d better start looking for another job.”
“Me too, but I’ll never find one as good as this. And we’d never find somewhere where we could work together..” Alice had tears in her eyes.
Just then, Briggs, the butler, came in.
“Good afternoon, Miss Kiss, Miss Moore.”
“Good afternoon, Mr Briggs,” they chorused.
“Are you all right, ladies? You seem a little edgy?”
“We’re worried about His Lordship,” announced Barb.
“He’s just not himself today!” added Alice.
“In what way is he ‘not himself’? He was every inch Lord Wragg when I parted from him, not twenty minutes ago!”
“He’s not as… friendly as usual,” stated Barb, trying to be diplomatic.
“Has he been discourteous in some manner?” Briggs raised an eyebrow. It didn’t seem to him to be in the least unusual for Lord Wragg to be discourteous.
“No, just less, um, attentive.” Barb felt she was beginning to struggle rather.
Briggs gazed at her without the slightest sign of comprehension. Excellent butler though he was, he never had and never would understand the serving girls. They were something of an alien species to him. “Miss Moore, I fear that I do not have the faintest idea what you mean. Please accept my assurance that His Lordship is in perfectly robust health, and you need have no concerns on that score. I suggest that you both get on with your tasks!”
Barb gave up. “Very good, Mr Briggs.” She turned her attention to the spuds and bashed them thoroughly. Alice set to work on the parsnips.
Eventually, Briggs had done whatever it was that he had come to the kitchen to do and he departed.
“Fat lot of good he was,” grumbled Alice.
“Wrong kind of chromosomes,” agreed Barb. “We need Eulalia. She will know!”
Eulalia was Lady Wragg’s Lady in Waiting, and there was nothing that she didn’t know about the Earl and Countess of Cruxton, nor indeed about anything else that was worth knowing.
“She’ll be here at three for her tea!” Eulalia was as reliable as clockwork.
At five to three Alice made sure that the kettle was boiling, and she had the tea poured just as the Westminster chimes were sounding from the grandfather clock in the hall. True to form, Eulalia entered on the stroke of the hour.
“Hullo, Alice! Hullo, Barb! Oh! Tea! Thank you!” Eulalia always seemed both surprised and grateful to find tea awaiting her, even though she would wonder if the earth had ceased to revolve upon its axis if it wasn’t there.
Alice passed her a freshly baked mince pie. “Eul, can we ask you something?”
“You don’t need to. You are wondering if Lord Wragg is quite well?”
Barb and Alice goggled at her in shock. “How did you know?”
“Well, unless I am much mistaken, Barb’s tight little has remained unslapped and Alice has not been required to spend an hour sat in his lap?”
“Exactly, Eul! Barb’s been all ready to start scanning the ‘Situations Vacant’ columns in ‘The Lady’”
“Oh, don’t do that, Barb. Your job’s perfectly safe. You’ll see.”
“I’ll see what, and when?” Barb was intrigued.
But that was all that Eulalia had to say on the subject, and nothing more could be extracted from her on the subject from then until bedtime, leaving Barb and Alice seething with curiosity – especially after they had served his Lordship with five courses at dinner, and not even the after dinner port and cigars brought the slightest reaction from Lord Wragg, other than polite ‘thank yous’ and ‘that will be alls’.
So to bed they went none the wiser.
T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the Abbey
Not a creature was stirring, even Wragg wasn’t crabby
When, just before dawn, there came a great shout
And nobody knew what the fuss was about!
From the dungeons at Cruxton came cries of great glee
So Barb’ra, unwisely, rushed straight down to see
With Alice behind her she rushed down the stair
They were shocked to discover what greeted them there!
A large new contraption, created from wood
Delivered by Santa ‘cos Wragg had been good;
And Wraggy was flowing with deep Christmas joy
So thoroughly chuffed with his new Christmas toy!
And they knew he was back – that Lord Wragg of old
The moment he saw them, they heard themselves told:
“Come Barb’ra, come Alice – lay down on your back
I’d love you to try out my two-person rack!”
They took off their nightwear, they knew that they should
(For maids in the dungeon must always be nude.)
They lay down as bid, for they were good girls
As the rack was adjusted, the ropes were unfurled;
They did not complain as he fitted the tether
Then turning the ratchet they both stretched together!
And together they cried, as the rack pulled them tight,
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!