Mrs. Graves was still upset with me about not fibbing to Janet that the medicine was my idea, so after the guests left she had me up to her room where she bound my arms in front of me and bent me over a chair for a bare bottom strapping. Those strappings became a common way for her to show her displeasure. It seemed almost as if I�d gone back in history to an earlier day when such punishment was common for the servants in a household. Servants were as if children, always in need of correction in the minds of the aristocracy. For me, I might as well have been in the nineteenth century, and I had just enough masochist within me to endure the inequities of the century. I sometimes found the whippings erotic, I was thinking maybe because Mrs. Graves had a way of making them seem normal business.



Then there was the matter of Maria�s closeness. Maria was a good looking girl, and in spite of the fact that after two months I was changed from birth control pills to a more transsexual specific drug that laced my veins with both estrogen and female hormones that gave me hot flashes, I still thought of myself as a man. One night out on the lawn, she and I got a little too close, and were touching skin to skin. We retired to Maria�s room, where I tried to overcome the effects of the drug. My cock was hard, but smaller than it used to be, rising to maybe a little under four inches. I struggled to put it inside of her, but as I struggled it shrank until getting it inside of Maria was impossible. She seemed to sympathize, stroking me with her hand as I masturbated her to orgasms. Still, it was very embarrassing to me.



We kissed for several minutes, then she changed tactics, touching, and finally sucking at my budding breasts. It was an odd sensation, the way my breasts moved, no longer tight to a chest of muscle, but rather loose and riding on what seemed like a new layer of fat. My breasts were not yet a legitimate size A, but the changes to me seemed dramatic. The nipples positively screamed, and because I was turned on, it was pleasurable. Still, all her attention managed to do was make me more horny, and I felt it too much of an imposition upon Maria to ask her to stroke me as vigorously as I needed since the shrinkage caused by the medication. Defeated, I shrank away to my room. It had been months since a woman had touched me in an intimate way, to no satisfaction. They had seemingly taken the last thing from me.



I grew distant. Maria and I tried two more times, but without good result for me, each defeat building upon the other to make me feel less adequate as a man. The pressure itself had become the issue. I think she still liked me, but for a month we seemed to fall back into that �just friends� sort of thing. I can�t say I didn�t feel relief that the romance had cooled and I no longer felt so pressured to perform beyond my capabilities.



Every day I worked, endlessly. Maria and Janet each had a day off, but I worked seven days a week, usually for fourteen hours. Then, at the end the day, Mrs. Graves would occasionally use me for oral gratification, a whipping, or just plain mental anguish. It seemed as if she had some kind of special psychological need to run me down with verbal tirades that only seemed civil because she rarely considered me worth the energy for a shout. When she called me in the middle of the day it was always for some major complaint that I knew would cost me dearly later. I�d been there almost five months, one day seemingly meeting the next head to head, when she called me about the toilet.



�How do you expect me to sit on this!� Screamed Mrs. Graves. Janet came running, soon standing in the doorway, watching Mrs. Graves lambaste me for what looked like a spot of urine and a pubic hair that had splashed up and landed in the inside edge.



�I did them this morning, madam,� I said.



�Don�t you imagine that I might have used it when I woke up, girl?�



�I�m sorry, Mistress,� I said, knowing she�d slipped into her more sadistic, Mistress mood.



�Get on your knees and lick it clean. Maybe next time you�ll learn to pay better attention to your job,� she insisted, pointing at the bowl.



I got on my knees, and started to lick gingerly.



�The hair too. Now swallow. Put the lid up, and let me see what else is filthy. Just as I suspected, there is more filth on the inside of the rim, and up on the top of the porcelain. Lick every last drop of the bottom of that seat, and up around. Maybe next time you�ll see these things.� She waited while I humiliated myself with my tongue all over the toilet. It was really not dirty, except for where Mrs. Graves had splashed water and urine during her last toilet. For the most part it didn�t even taste salty, the drops mostly water.



�Now get out and wait in the hallway. Janet will make sure you stand properly for a girl in need of correction,� said the older lady, shutting the door behind me. I stood against the wall in the hallway.



Janet turned me around, so I was facing the wall, and pushed my head down in an exaggerated bowing position. �You�ve messed up again, Jo. The mood in the house is going to be intolerable. I sometimes think it would be better around here without your help,� whispered Janet, furthering my sense of lonely denial.



The bathroom door burst open. �Now get in here! On your knees. Put the seat up and stick your face in the water.� I bent down, as instructed, and was soon looking at a pool of yellowed water. Did I hear her right? I looked over at the madam of the house.



�You heard her! Put your head in there, and while you�re at it, take a nice few swallows!� Said a suddenly helpful Janet, reading my mental question, and coming around Mrs. Graves. The head maid pushed my face down into the toilet. I was soon underwater, as far as my face knew, my eyes shut. Janet grabbed the back of my head, and pulled me up.



�Put a mirror in there so we can see that his eyes are open and he�s swallowing,� said an approving Mrs. Graves. Janet had never been an active participant before, and was probably trying to save face for the whole staff by being so abusive, but Mrs. Graves had obviously not only approved, but taken an active hand in assisting. The mirror was dropped into the bowl, and my head suddenly back under.



�Open your eyes and swallow some, or I�ll drown you,� said Janet, her knee over the back of my neck.



I opened my eyes, seeing my watery self in the mirror, and then, almost as if drowning, swallowed a small amount of the water. A few seconds later my head was pulled up.



Janet took a mouthwash cup from the dispenser, and dipped it in the pool. �Drink this. You�ll not embarrass the staff by doing bad work again, Jo� I took the cup, and drank the slightly salty water and urine mixture. �Now put your head back in. Do it yourself, so I can flush you,� said a very sadistic Janet. I looked over at the approval on Mrs. Grave�s face, and then dropped my head back into the water. Janet flushed the commode, and the water whirled down in a spiral. I watched the water drip from my face as the seat refilled. The commode water slowly came up to meet my face again, resubmerging me. After a minute of holding my breath I got up. Both women were gone, apparently satisfied with my humiliation, and gone off to more pressing matters. There were drops of water everywhere, so I went to the linen closet, and found my cleaning supplies.



Janet came for me that night in my room. I walked by Maria�s room, seeing her light on, and knowing she�d not know a thing about the way I was probably about to be abused. Just inside the door, Janet picked up some leather cuffs, buckled and then padlocked them onto my wrists. I was in for it, and now Janet was going to be an assistant. The prospects that I was to have one less ally in the house won at first, but as I was led through the house by the short chain between my wrists, I started to get a little turned on by the whole affair. I used to show that with a hard cock, but my cock never seemed to get very hard anymore. We went up the stairs, but then, just as I expected we�d turn towards Mrs. Grave�s room, Janet instead directed me up into the attic.



Mrs. Graves was up there already, waiting in an old, high armed, purple chair that had been uncovered, unlike the other formless things covered by white sheets. The wooden floor was dark from decades of waxed in dust, the old, forgotten furnishings ghosts under their sheets, the ceiling a gothic array of joists and dormer windows. In all of that, a rope dangled inside of a roughly circular clearing where to one edge Mrs. Graves sat wearing a red satin blouse, black stockings, heels and a very black leather skirt. The colorlessness surrounding her made her seem awesome.



I was shoved forward, nearly to the point of stumbling, by the hand of Janet at my back.



�You are here to pay for your infractions over the past month. We have listed twenty-three demerits in only thirty days of service. We . are certainly aware of your personal preference for strong, authoritative women. So, in light of our understanding of what motivates you, we have decided to do the best we can to use that for both your and our benefit. Janet, please position the offending maid for her punishment,� proclaimed Mrs. Graves from her seat. I saw her lift what looked to me like a leather swivel stick, like the kind old generals used to carry under their underarms when they wanted to look pretentious.



Janet guided me under the rope, and then tied the rope to the chain connecting my leather wrist cuffs. Then she went over to the wall where the other end of the rope dropped out of the rafters, and looped that end under a leg of a huge oak dresser. She pulled me up until I was on my toes, and then tied it off.



�The panties, and then the bar, Janet; if you don�t mind,� said Mrs. Graves. I looked around, feeling very vulnerable, my eyes twitching from one woman to the next.



�Yes, Mistress,� said Janet. Had I heard that right? Janet had called Mrs. Graves Mistress? What had Maria said about Janet sometimes spending the night in the house? I�d not imagined this kind of connection, but stretched like that, it all came together. Janet and Mrs. Graves were lovers! No wonder Janet had cooled to me after that first night when I�d been used by Mrs. Graves for oral satisfaction.



For her part, Janet simply came over and pulled my panties down to the floor. Then she went over to the bottom drawer of a covered dresser, extracting a three foot long bar with a few feet of rope tied to eyelets embedded into each end. She knelt down in front of me, and tied one of my ankles to one end of the bar. I found myself standing on one set of toes, but then she pushed my tied leg out even further with the bar, and tied the other end to the ankle supporting my weight. I lost my balance, and found myself hanging by my wrists, my outstretched legs now at an angle that made my overall height insufficient to keep me from swinging. the fact that I occasionally touched the ground with a big toe seemed incidental to the idea of control. When she was done, she went over to her Mistress, and sat at her legs, holding one leg in both arms lovingly. They sat there together, admiring me as I swung in a slow circle, until I finally slowing. I became a dead weight, the women off to my left side.



�We�re going to administer twenty-one corrective blows. Do you approve, slave?� Asked Mistress Graves.



�Yes, Mistress,� I said, mainly because I knew better than to pick another answer.



�Good. Now we advise that you refrain from screaming, though we do expect that you will make some moans. You may feel sick to your stomach, so it�s best that we not gag you. If we have to we will. Is that understood, slut?�



�Yes, Mistress,� I said, tears already in my eyes.



�Very good then. You may proceed, Janet,� said Mrs. Graves. The Mistress crossed her legs as her head maid got up and took the crop from her hand. Janet walked in front of me, and grabbed the hem of my dress. She lifted it until it was brought over my head where the dress was left as if a pillow, bunched up around my shoulders and behind my neck. I looked down at my garters, full size A bra, and white stockings. My shoes had long dropped in the space just below my dangling, little, drug neutralized penis. I realizing how ridiculous I must have looked to Janet. For her part, she stared at me wickedly, smacking the crop against her palm.



When I saw her hand drop back, as if about to bowl, I tried to bring my legs together defensively, managing to roll in my knees some, but not avoiding the first vicious delivery into my nuts. I felt the dull pain bite, and then felt my stomach churn. I wanted to double over, but I was too stretched, my legs coming up and my back arching instead. I groaned, �Please. No. Not this. I can�t take this!�



�We�ll wait for you to stop swinging,� was all I got from Mrs. Graves. Janet waited in front of me patiently. I couldn�t believe what was happening. They were just waiting for me to stop struggling so they could do it again. The pain in my wrists was going to be a factor, I understood, motivating me to let myself get still so it could be over, while at the same time, I needed to struggle to put some time between the sickening deliveries. I brought my knees down, and felt myself slowing, closing my eyes in the hope I�d not see what was inevitable.



�When you open your eyes we can start again,� said the sadistic Mrs. Graves. I slowly opened them, knowing I was again hanging still and long, another perfect target. Janet�s hand came down again, and my knees instinctively pulled up, this time covering me completely. Janet stayed her hand, and then went over to Mrs. Graves to sit down at her feet. �We have all night. Let us know when you are ready, slut Jo.�



I was openly crying, all sense of pride completely gone. Minutes ticked by. My hands felt as if they were going numb. I had to make some choices. �OK, Mistress. I can do another now,� I said, feeling like my own mouth had committed treason.



Janet came in front again, and quickly did a back swing, and then a delivery, my knees flinching up, but I somehow found the will to make it not enough to keep the blow from landing uncontested. Again the agony in my groin, and the lurching feeling in my stomach that receded slowly. I cried out an intense, �Ohhhh!�



Over and over again the cycle continued. The brutal thuds into my testicles had made the whole of my lower body into one digestive contraction. Suddenly one vicious blow overpowered my system, and I found myself unable to catch the bile that filled my throat.



�Oh, and you were doing so well,� said Mrs. Graves from her seat. She motioned for Janet to come sit at her feet while I choked for control. The front of my body was covered with the vomit. The smell made it harder to recover, and I let my newly clammy body swing until I stilled, unable to volunteer for another blow.



�Please, Mistress Graves; no more,� I begged.



�You have eight more to go. You will take every single stroke, because you have earned them. We have all night. I have already made that clear.� She looked down at Janet, and stroking her hair, said, �Go get a pail of soap and water. There�s no need to leave a mess that will spoil the rest of our lesson.�



�Yes, madam,� said Janet, leaving us alone. I was starting to recover enough to hold my stomach, and realized that Janet�s chore would leave me hanging by my wrists several times longer than I might have preferred. After all of the heaving, my breathing had started to become an issue due to the strain upon my chest muscles. To ease the strain I hang my head back, opening up the airway as far as I could. Up above me the rope twisted slowly between my wrists. By sheer weight, the buckles on my leather wrist cuffs were forced together, digging into the opposing hand.



Janet left us both to our thoughts, Mrs. Graves apparently intent upon proving her patience with the chore of waiting me done. �Mistress! I don�t even know all of the infractions. I thought I�d only made a few mistakes,� I said, trying an argument in my defense.



�The issue I am teaching here is decision making, Jo. We all have to make decisions throughout our daily affairs; don�t you think? For example, two weeks ago you were assigned the duty of cleaning a guest room at the end of the hall. You failed to take things off of the shelf over the fireplace before dusting. You could have considered the fact that the room had gone undusted for two weeks, and that it is impossible to get at all of the dust without moving and dusting the items on the shelf. It was a decision poorly made. Things like that might not be mentioned as they occur because I�m a busy woman, so I just keep a book. Considering the long list of demerits, I have decided to give you some motivation, while at the same time displaying the importance of making the hard decision.�



�Hard decisions?�



�Yes, hard decision. Thinking about the weight on your arms, you have to make a simple choice; keep hanging until your arms stretch out of your sockets, or move forward with the beating, right up to the edge of endurance. I imagine that right about now you are regretting your loss of stomach control. I am guessing that you can hardly wait until Janet gets back, so she can crush your testicles with one more blow. Is that right, slave?�



�Yes, Mistress Graves,� I said, rolling my head around in a losing attempt to ease the cramping that had moved into my shoulders.



�Decisions, decisions. Sometimes they�re made for you, and at other times you get to make them yourself. Oh, here she is. Tell Janet how much you have missed her, slut!� Commanded Mrs. Graves.



�I�ve missed you, Janet. Please, hit me again,� I begged, needing to take the count down to seven.



She looked at Mrs. Graves, who nodded. Janet picked up the crop, and aimed. I put my head back, and let my body hang limp, my knees not even attempting to come up. The blow tore into me, and my knees came up almost to my waist, where they waited out the pain, before slowly moving back down. I could feel Janet cleaning my body off as the swinging of the rope eased. Water was splashed into the bucket from the rag. When Janet was done cleaning up, she ripped into me again, each blow now being delivered into swollen tissue. I could feel my scrotum stretching from the torment, making the target area easier to hit. My muscles racked with exhaustion, I realized that my knees no longer came up between blows, and the wait had similarly been reduced since I no longer had the strength nor will to resist.



I�m not sure if I passed out or not, but I found out I was done when Mrs. Graves whispered into my ear, �That�s twenty-one, maid boy. Do a better job next month, and it won�t go so hard!�



Janet dropped me to the floor where I fell into a heap. I think I passed out again, but when I woke up the cuffs were gone, and Janet was in the chair watching me. �You can take your panties and shoes and go back to your room now. We�ve decided to let you sleep until ten. Besides, it�s Sunday, and the madam will be at services.� I got to my feet, and walked bent over due to the strain from the attack upon my groin. Just outside the house I puked into the bushes for a second time, hoping like all hell that nobody had seen me do it and checked it off as blow number one for next month.