After writing on an all-male corporal punishment story site called Male Spank, linking my interests in corporal punishment and heavy duty pvc and rubber rainwear, it was rather heartwarming to receive an email from Roger explaining that he had similar interests and, in the capacity of a sissy maid, served a mature couple on a regular basis who also had an interest in pvc oilskin mackintoshes.
Roger and I, not surprisingly, became good on-line friends, discussing my fantasies and his real experiences. He sadly doesn’t like writing so the stories were just between us, but when I offered to record them for him, he jumped at the chance. So here is the first episode of his journey…..
"I’m married and my wife has always been aware that I enjoy dressing for pleasure so rarely a day goes by when I’m not wearing something around the house either in pvc or rubber.
My favourite dress code is that of a sissy maid but I love wearing shiny boots and mackintoshes too. In fact, I go out shopping with my wife wearing my black pvc mackintosh on a regular basis – rain or shine! She insists.
The die was cast for me to become a sissy maid when I was a teenager, serving a farmer from Devon. I’d gone to him to do some summer work to earn some pocket money but after a few days it was clear I wasn’t cut out for heavy farm work and one day he told me to go in the house and doing his cleaning. Well, you should have seen the kitchen, piled high with dishes! And, with him being single, you can imagine what a mess the rest of the house was.
The first day he came in while I was attacking the washing up and he erupted into a rage. “You’re working too slowly and getting water everywhere. Put this on – back to front,” he shouted, threw me an old shiny yellow pvc oilskin cajole.
I did as I was told, acutely aware of a mixture of sweat and heavy pvc as I slid the oilskin over my shoulders.
“Sissy boys like you need to toughen up,” he said as he fastened the cagoule from the back. “If you are going to continue here you’re going to work faster, harder and if you don’t measure up then you’ll be punished.”
“Yes boy, punished. Didn’t your father spank you?
Did you get the cane at school?”
“Well that explains why you are such a sissy boy then. We need to toughen you up. This oilskin was worn by real men – tough men who worked hard in the field, took a good thrashing when they deserved it and never complained.”
I remember being shocked but rather excited at the thought of this strong man threatening to discipline me…..
Then he stepped forward and pulled the hood over my face and tied the drawstrings. The hood was badly stained with old sweat and marks - I dreaded to think where they came from - but I had little option but breath the foul odor and lick the sweat stains as he pulled me over his knee and spanked me. Oh course, the harder he spanked, the more I gasped, the more I was aware of the smelly hood on my face.
My spankings in this peculiar punishment outfit became a regular ritual of my working days at the farm, something I quickly embraced and enjoyed, even when my Master progressed to using a strap of thick bridle leather on my bottom. It was so painful and I used to beg for mercy but something kept me going back for more. Working at the farm lasted one memorable summer.
Then I got a full time job and had to move away. But I’ve discovered that being a sissy boy is an escape from everyday life and I like the excitement of submitting to the whims of a Master or Mistress and genuinely enjoying do my work well. I take pride in what I do and how I look and I accept if I don’t live up to the standards expect, then I have to be punished.
I’ve even served my wife but she’s not naturally dominant and we’ve both realised it’s better for me to be a slave to people who are truly dominant rather than try and force something that’s not right between us. She’s a very understanding lady.
All the people I’ve served since that early encounter with the farmer have been linked with each other. I started off by serving a Mistress who I met on line. She was a very strict but understanding Lady who took me on as a raw recruit and trained me as a maid. She taught me not just to serve, but how to do it with the correct poise and posture. It was a painful experience though – and humiliating. She used to cane me in front of her husband who she also used to dominate. I’m thankful for her training me to accept the orders of a superior without question. That’s the number one duty of a slave. Even if you fail trying to do what is asked of you, it’s better than to have refused an order.
Sadly, her husband left her for another Mistress but in an ironic twist, he invited me to serve them in a new Pro-Domme business they had launched. I enjoyed that for about eight months. They had a sideline making sissy clothes, kitting me out in several outfits, some in pvc and some in more traditional maid’s uniforms.
It was my duty to not only serve them both but also look after all their customers who called. Some days I’d be doing chores at the house, other days they’d require me to clean up the shop, stock take, parcel up orders – it was a big mail order business and well as a busy little shop. At first I found it daunting to be in public but the customers were more like friends than clients and I got to meet some really interesting people.
Then, out of the blue my Master and Mistress told me they were going to quit the Pro-Domme business to focus 100% pn the sissy clothing side that had taken off and would no longer need my services. I was gutted.
But that very same afternoon a mature couple happened to drop by to visit my Master and Mistress as I was serving tea in my PVC maid’s outfit. Maybe it wasn’t a chance visit, looking back?
They were, I’d say in their early Sixties, very healthy-looking and sprightly.
The gentleman had a good head of greying hear, swept back and sported a well trimmed and waxed moustache and goatee beard. He was very trim, not an ounce overweight and what looked like a brand new, highly polished rubber mackintosh, cut in a single-breasted modern style, hung elegantly from his broad shoulders. He wore it open to reveal a smart ice-blue shirt and contrasting deep blue scarf. The shirt was outside his black leather jeans though. On his feet were hi-gloss Doc Marten boots.
His wife was stunningly beautiful, with wonderfully elegant jaw line, pearl white teeth and piercing blue eyes. Her long blonde hair cascading over a high-gloss black Burberry mackintosh. Unlike her husband, her double-breasted raincoat was tightly belted and buckled. Her equally gleaming tan brown boots ran up her calves, over her knees and disappeared under the neat folds of the raincoat. Stunning.
They looked like a wonderful couple – entrenched in the high end fashion of fetish clothing - but curiously severe in their dress code and manner. I was a bit taken aback how much interest they seemed to take in me.
It turned out that while they already had a sissy boi who slaved for them, they were far from happy with his attitude. I heard them telling my Master that the boi would try to top from the bottom, which really annoyed them both. They were looking to replace him with someone less questioning.
My Master said: “I can understand your frustration. Can’t you thrash the boi into compliance?”
“That’s the problem,” said the Lady becoming quite strident. “He’s a complete masochist and is only interested in being caned. I only realised it after tying him to the bench and giving him a few dozen lashes. He barely flinched and the next day was taunting me for more. Don’t get me wrong, we both love caning a boi but it’s more important to have a good slave than a whipping boi!”
My Mistress laughed, “Yes, you do love your canes!”
My master continued: “We’ve been really happy with R. He’s very obedient and conscientious. We still have to punish him from time to time but he’s a good slave.”
“We’re quitting the Pro-Domme business, he’s going to be a free agent….,” added my Mistress.
“I do rather like the way the boi carries herself in that outfit,” the Lady said to her husband. “We do need a new boi darling.”
All this time I was stood to attention, awaiting orders as this discussion about me developed and I became rather excited at the prospect of serving this couple, even if I was merely a commodity. Though I was a little frightened by this Lady’s enthusiasm for the cane. Corporal punishment is something I try to avoid by doing my job well. Sometimes it’s inevitable a boi has to be punished but thankfully, it’s been a rare occasion in my short time of servitude.
“Yes, I think we’d like to give him a try out. Can you arrange it,” the Gentleman said to my Mistress. “Send him over tomorrow at 9.00 perhaps?”
“Of course we can,” said Mistress. “In his sissy maid outfit?”
“Oh yes. Does the boi have a mackintosh to wear over it?”
“Yes he does – and wellingtons,” said Master.
“Very well, he is to arrive at 9.00 already in uniform at our house. Mackintosh belted and buckled!”
said the Gent who then turned to his elegant wife. “Happy dear?”
“Very,” his wife smiled with a twinkle in her eye. “I think we’ll both enjoy training a new boi, especially with one who looks to have rather better manners than the dolt we have at the moment.”
Mistress turned to me. “Did you hear that boi? You are required for an appointment with ‘The Superior Couple’ tomorrow at 9.00am.”
Of course I heard it but of course it was Mistress’ compunction to tell me officially - even if tomorrow I would might well become the property of this mature couple. I was already nervous. yet quite excited to think of what new challenges lie ahead.
“Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress,” I said humbly.
“I think we’ll have more tea now,” said Master, snapping his fingers….
Meeting my superior couple
I made my way to the Superior Couple’s house, feeling nervous on two counts. Firstly of course was the appointment itself, but secondly, was the embarrassment of having to wear my traditional black and white cotton maid’s outfit under my tightly belted rubber mackintosh and wellingtons in the street. Luckily my mackintosh was long enough to cover my boots and hide my traditional black and white maids outfit, but nevertheless, I felt rather conspicuous.
My new Master met me at the door in his white shirt and tie, jodphurs and gleaming brown riding boots. He ushered me in, stood me to attention and surveyed me.
“Mackintosh off boi.”
I fumbled my belts and buttons undone and stood with it over my arm.
Master inspected me again. Then called his wife.
She inspected me too. Obviously they were equestrian enthusiasts as she too wore a white blouse, open necked with a colourful scarf, jodphurs and equally gleaming black riding boots.
“Quite the sissy,” she said. “He’ll do.
My mackintosh was taken from me by Master who hung it on the coat rack and then guided me into the lounge.
Mistress was sat at the dining table. Her husband joined her.
“Well sissy boi you will be on a period of one month’s probation and will work here three days per week – Monday, Thursday and Friday,” said my new Mistress. “You will start at 8.00am and carry out duties that you are instructed to do throughout the day, finishing at 5.00pm.”
Master continued: “Your duties will include cleaning the house from top to bottom, washing up, polishing our mackintoshes and riding boots, and making cups of tea and preparing small snacks as required. You may also be required to perform personal services for my wife or I. Do you understand boi?”
He added: “You will carry out our orders to the letter and ou will never question Mistress or myself. Do you understand?”
Mistress then said: “My husband and I are believers is strict discipline and keep order by means of corporal punishment. You will wear a different outfit for discipline sessions.”
She went over to the easy chair in the corner of the room opened up a box on the chair and pulled out a gleaming pvc sissy maid outfit.
“This is the outfit a sissy boi should be punished in,” she said. My Mistress and Master looked at each other with knowing smiles. She proceeded to lay the dress on the chair, plus a white pvc pinny, black pvc bloomers and some patent court shoes.
“So now you know your duties and our discipline methods are you interested in serving us?” asked Master.
“Yes Sir,” I said, then looking at Mistress, added, “Madam.
“Very well,” said Master. You will refer to me as Master and my wife as Mistress in future.”
“Yes Sir….I mean Master,” I said.
“You can start with the kitchen sissy boi,” said Mistress, beckoning me to the kitchen.
The pile of dishes was incredible considering there was only the two of then in the house but I surmised they had saved last nights and breakfast things for the new slave.
“I want the dishes done and put away, cooker cleaned, floor scrubbed. If you hear the bell ring you will come to the lounge immediately. Understood?"
She left the room and I got on with the task. The washing up took ages. Then I looked at the cooker. It desperately needed a good clean. I found all the cleaning products under the sink and was getting them out when the bell rang.
I quickly washed my hands, straightened my outfit and rushed to the lounge – as the bell rang again.
I knocked the door, waited for the instruction to enter and then went in.”
“You’ll have to move faster when that bell rings sissy boi.”
"We’d like tea. Mine is black, my wife takes it weak with milk. No sugar."
“Master, my Masteer said raising his voice. “I don’t want to have to tell you again.”
I serve tea and lunch – simple omelette with artisan bread and coffee - and as I’m washing up Master and Mistress come into the kitchen.
“Stand to attention boi,” the Master snaps. “You stand to attention any time Mistress or I enter the room boi.”
I snap into position, eyes front, but am aware that both of them were carry out an inspection of my cleaning duty. Master has a clipboard under his arm……
Mistress runs her fingers along a high shelf – then shows the dirtied fingers to her husband. Without saying anything he makes a note on the clipboard. He opens the larder and made another note. She lifts the waste bin to reveal a semi circle of dust where it had been stood . Another note. Both of them shaking their heads. My heart sinks.
Master pulls back the curtain at the end of the window sill. More dirty fingers from a layer of dust in the corner and then a gasp from Mistress as she opens the stove. More notes.
“Come with us,” the Master says.
I’m virtually frog-marched to a study opposite the lounge. Mistress throws the pvc outfit at me.
“Put it on boi,” she spits.”
I realise I’m going to be punished as I slide the sticky pvc maid’s dress on. The skirt flares out revealing my naked, floppy cock and arse. I’ve been nervous all day but now I’m terrified what’s in store.
“Stand to attention again boi,” says Master, clearly annoyed that he’s had to remind me.
“I would have thought on your first day you would have tried a little harder boi,” says Mistress. “You need to take more care when dusting for a start. You were also instructed to mop the floor – not mop around whatever is in the room – like the bin.”
Her voice is becoming strident.
“I noticed dust around the table legs too. Mop the floor means the entire floor boy,” adds Master. “You don’t work around the furniture.”
“Master you dolt! How many more times? My darling, I think we’re going to have to work hard to train this boi.”
“I’ll get the cane,” she says with a degree of enthusaism and goes to the corner of the kitchen, unlocking the tall cupboard.”
I gasp as it reveals an arsenal of canes, straight and crook handled hung on the back of the door.
I watch as she unhooks a thin crook-handle cane and whips it through the air. The high-speed whistle makes me feel sick. Then she tries a thicker straight cane with a black handle. Again she tests it. Then goes back to the first one she chose.
I’m aware my Master is surveying my reaction. There’s a grim, knowing smile on his face.
Mistress walks over and hands him the cane. ‘There you are darling. This should bite the sissy’s pretty little arse.”
I watch him flex it double in his strong hands. She bends forward and they kiss. ‘Oh my word, his cock is hard darling. I think he’s looking forward to his punishment too much. Thrash the sissy boi darling,” she hisses.
‘Over the desk boi. Mistress walks round and grasps my hands as I reach the far side of the desk. It’s leather top feels cool to the touch of my cock. I realise, the folds of my sissy dress have shuffled up and my poor bottom is bare.
No sooner has Mistress secured me than the first stroke whistles down and lays a thin tramline of pain explodes across my cheeks.
“One,” she counts, increasing her grip on my by digging her fingernails into my flesh.
Another slashes down and another. I’m used to being caned but not as fast as this – or with such a whippy little bastard of a cane. When the fourth hits me I yelp with pain. The fifth quickly follows and the sixth. My cries become more vocal as I realise my former Master and Mistress were relatively lenient with me.
Master says: “Do you wish to beat the boi darling?”
“Oh no my dear, I’m enjoying seeing him squirm under your correction. I’m sure the boi will give me plenty of opportunity to flog him in future!”
The punishment continues. Six more strokes come and go quickly. I’m trying to control myself but each stroke solicits more strident yelps.
Suddenly, just as I feel tears welling up, it’s over.
“Stand up boi,” barks Master.
My wrists are released and I stand awkwardly, my bottom ablaze with a stinging band of flesh that’s thudding in my ears. I’m aware of tears on my cheeks and I’m sweating. I can see my form etched in darker leather of the desktop.
“That’s just a taster of what happens if you fail to satisfy either of us boi. We expect high standards and are very strict as I’m sure you are now well aware. Do you understand?”
“Would you like to thank your Master for your punishment,’ Mistress chips in.
“Yes, Mistress.” I take a deep breath. “Thank you for my punishment Master. I will try harder to please you and Mistress.”
“I’m sure you will boi,” said Mistress.
“You can now change back into your regular uniform and get yourself away home,” said Master. “We will expect you at 8.00am sharp tomorrow.”
Yes, Master. Thank you Master. Thank you Mistress.”
I curtsy, and retire to the kitchen to get changed into my ‘day’ clothes. It’s sunny outside yet I have don the mackintosh and wellingtons for the walk home. My humiliation for today is still not complete.