Sunday was a quiet day, a day when I got to relax. The weather was still good, so at lunchtime Helen cooked a BBQ for the three of us. Helen was drinking Prosecco and Alice was keen to have some, which is perfectly legal in the UK for someone aged eighteen. “OK,” decided Helen, “but only one glass.”
“Can Julie have some as well?” enquired Alice, which I thought was nice of her. But Helen answered, “No, of course not! What on earth are you thinking?” That put me in my place and made me feel very small.
Then Alice changed the subject. “I wanted to invite a couple of friends around on Tuesday, but I’m embarrassed with Julie dressed up as a woman.”
“Well, Julie could just do the housework upstairs if your friends are staying downstairs. Then she wouldn’t be seen.”
“That won’t work because we’ll need to go up to my bedroom.” Seeing the suspicious look on her Mum’s face, she hastily added, “It’s only girls who would be coming, Mum!”
“In that case, Julie will have to stay in her room for however long they’re here and catch up with her housework later.”
At no point in this exchange had my opinions been sought, and now it was a done deal. “I hope you’ve understood this?” Helen remarked, looking in my direction.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied, knowing this was what was expected from me.
Turning again to Alice, Helen added. “I don’t want her to get bored in her room, so would you be able to set her some written work to do, Alice?”
“Wow, leave it to me, Mum!” On seeing the glee on her face, I dreaded to think what torment Alice would dream up for me.
Tuesday soon came around. I’d not been told what time the friends were due, so I busied myself with my housework. It was just after 10 AM when Alice breezed into the utility room where I was doing the laundry. “My friends are on their way, Julie, so stop what you are doing and go straight to your room. Don’t come out under any circumstances! Do you understand?”
“Do I have time to go to the toilet, Miss?” I asked.
As I did so, the doorbell rang. “No!” she exclaimed, “they’re here. You should have gone before. Go straight upstairs. Now! You will have to use this if you need to.” She passed me an empty plastic bottle that was in the kitchen bin. I assume she thought I could use it to relieve myself, not knowing that my chastity cage required me to sit down to urinate. Despite the device having a slit at the end for urine to pass through, the chance of me accurately aiming into a bottle were negligible.
The doorbell rang for a second time. “Do as you’re told, Julie! Go!!” she yelled, but, as I was leaving the kitchen, she shouted, “Wait! Take this as well.” She handed me an A4 envelope, commenting “This contains something for you to do, so you don’t get bored.” The grin on her face told me that I wasn’t likely to enjoy whatever it was. “Don’t say I don’t look after you,” she added, as she rushed to open the front door.
On getting to my room, I shut myself in and opened the envelope. Inside were numerous sheets of A4 graph pad paper, each sheet printed with a grid of quarter-inch squares. Also in the envelope were a couple of fine-tipped felt tip pens and a note instructing me that I was to neatly colour in every other square of as many sheets as possible to produce a chequer-board effect. The word “neatly” was double underlined, suggesting that I was likely to be punished if the pen strayed over into squares that had to be left blank. I could see that hours of monotony lay ahead of me, but resignedly I sat down to start the task.
Soon afterwards, I heard steps and voices and deduced that Alice and two friends were making their way to Alice’s bedroom, except that one of the friends was definitely male, meaning Alice had been untruthful to her Mum. I’d no clue as to how long they would be there, but two hours passed without any sign of them going back downstairs. By now, I was deeply regretting being denied a toilet visit before going into my room. I desperately needed a pee, but my bathroom was across the landing. As my bladder became fuller it became increasingly difficult to concentrate on my assignment and I was in danger of making a sloppy error. At 1:30 PM, I was left with no choice but to risk crossing the corridor to relieve myself.
The reader may guess what happened. At the very moment I stepped on to the landing, so a girl walked out of Alice’s bedroom. For a moment we both stopped mid-step and looked shocked at each other. Then the girl let out an ear-piercing scream, so loud one might think she was being murdered. I was so taken aback that I couldn’t stop my bladder squeezing and my sphincter opening. How much urine escaped, I’ve no idea, but instantly a large wet stain covered the front of my beige trousers. The sight of this caused her screaming to rise by at least another decibel. Coming quickly to my senses, I dashed the few feet across the landing into the bathroom and slammed and locked the door. As I did so, I heard Alice rushing from her bedroom to find out what was going on.
“There was… there was… there was…,” spluttered the traumatised girl. “There was… a strange… woman! I think… I think… it was a woman. Then she… wet herself!”
Alice was thinking quickly on her feet and answered in a surprisingly calm voice. “Nothing to worry about, Martha, that’ll be our cleaning lady. She’s a very strange looking woman. She’s embarrassed about her appearance, so likes to keep in the shadows and not be seen. I think she must have been carrying some water which she spilt because I can’t believe she would wet herself—a grown woman wouldn’t do that! You go downstairs and I’ll check the lady’s OK, because she must have had a shock as well.” The boy had by now come out of Alice’s room to see what the commotion was. “You go downstairs as well, Brent. I need to comfort the poor cleaning lady, but I’ll be down in a minute.”
So much for providing comfort! As soon as both friends were out of earshot, Alice wiggled the doorknob, hissing, “Unlock this fucking door now, you cretin!”
I’d just finished on the toilet. With understandable reticence, I stood up, pulled up my wet clothes, and unlocked the door. I opened it a fraction, only to be nearly knocked off my feet as Alice burst in. “You stupid, damn fool! What are you playing at, embarrassing me in front of my friends? Mum’s going to hear about this. Get back to your room and keep those wet clothes on so Mum can see what a big baby you’ve been.”
With that she stormed out of the bathroom, leaving me to contemplate what would happen to me when Helen got home from work. I waddled back to my room, put a towel on my chair and sat down to continue my colouring-in task. My wet underwear and trousers were clinging to me, and I was in considerable discomfort. I still had a lot of squares to do, and I saw it as even more important now to do a good job, rather than compound the trouble I was already in.
It was another four hours before Helen returned. Alice’s friends had long since gone, but it seemed that Alice was still thoroughly riled because I could hear her speaking very loudly to Helen. I couldn’t work out what was said, but she was presumably relating in graphic detail what had occurred. Helen’s responses were a lot quieter, but I didn’t see that as necessarily a good sign.
A few minutes later I was called down to the kitchen by Helen. By now my trousers had dried, leaving an unmistakable stain. I looked a mess. “Look at her, she’s gross,” Alice sneered.
“Leave this to me, Alice,” said Helen. “You go into the next room while I deal with Julie. I can assure you she’s going to be punished.”
“Can’t I stay to watch, Mum?” she asked. “I’m the injured party.”
“No, you need to go while I sort this out.” Alice gave me a smirk as she sauntered into the next room. I think she knew what was coming my way.
With Alice in the next room, Helen addressed me. “I know this was an accident, Julie, and Alice is largely to blame, except she didn’t know you couldn’t pee into a bottle. But Alice was more upset than I’ve seen her since the episode at the zoo—which you were also involved in. That can’t be a coincidence, so I’m going to have to punish you, I’m afraid.”
This seemed grossly unfair, and no doubt Alice had put on another Oscar-winning performance in convincing Helen as to how upset she’d been by the incident. Nonetheless, I could see that me arguing was only likely to make things worse, so I decided to accept whatever fate awaited me. Helen ordered, “Take off your trousers and bend over this stool.”
In front of me she placed a tall barstool, and it was obvious I would be receiving corporal punishment in some form. I did as she instructed and grasped the legs, waiting with trepidation for what was to follow.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Helen pick up the thick leather tawse I’d experienced on many occasions across the palms of my hands. This time the target was to be different and a few seconds later Helen was whipping me across the back of my thighs. More than twenty times the leather stung my flesh, as blow landed upon blow with great rapidity. By halfway through, I was crying out for her to stop, but to no effect. There was nothing in this punishment I found erotic or arousing, and my penis had shrivelled up in horror of what was happening.
At last, it was done, and I staggered to my feet. “I hope that’s taught you a lesson, Julie. Now go upstairs, have a shower, put on your nightie and go to bed. No dinner for you tonight, but tomorrow is a new day and a fresh start. Try to behave better tomorrow! And stop upsetting my daughter!”
I did as I was told, which also gave me a chance to examine the vivid red marks that now marked my thighs. The water from the shower stung the abraded skin and it was too painful to rub the towel over my legs, and instead I had to carefully dab them to dry them.
oooOOooo
The next day, Wednesday, Helen was at work and Alice at home. I was out doing the shopping in the morning, and I didn’t see Alice until lunchtime, when she came in for her sandwich and coke. While she had her lunch, I was sent to face a straight piece of wall, rather than being made to stand in the corner. I could sense that Alice was in a doleful, reflective mood, and not her usual buoyant self.
“Did you get caned on the bum last night, Julie? From the television room, I could hear you being thrashed. I’m sure Mum wanted me to hear what she was doing to you,” she explained.
“I didn’t get the cane, Miss. Instead, I got tawsed on the back of my thighs more than twenty times. It really hurt!”
“Oh, my god! A tawse?”
“Yes, it’s like a short, thick leather belt.”
“I know what it is, stupid! But I’ve never seen one in the house so Mum must have bought it specially for you, Julie. I’m sure she’s never punished any of our other cleaners like that, so there is something different about you. And that’s what I’ve always thought, isn’t it?… By the way, I was counting the strokes and there actually twenty-four of them.”
There wasn’t anything I could reply, so I waited for her to carry on.
“Are you angry with me, Julie?” she asked.
“Not really, Miss, but I didn’t think you’d tell tales.”
“Yes, I feel guilty about that, especially as you didn’t mention to Mum that one of my visitors was a boy.”
“As there was a boy and a girl, I assumed nothing went on that shouldn’t have happened, Miss.”
“You’re right, Julie, it didn’t. We were just chatting and playing games on my computer. But thanks for not snitching on me. However, you know you could have got yourself into very serious trouble with Mum if she’d found out there was a boy visiting and you’d not mentioned it.”
“I don’t think my punishment could have been worse than it was, Miss.”
“Don’t be so sure,” she laughed.
“So why did you snitch on me, Miss?”
“Because I can be a bitch sometimes?” she speculated, posing this as a possibility.
I didn’t respond. Agreeing that she could be a bitch may not have been a good move, while denying it would have been lying.
After a pause, she continued. “I suppose in the heat of the moment I was angry at what you’d done in front of Martha. The stupid thing is that by the time Mum got home I’d calmed down, but I’d texted her at lunchtime so there was no pretending nothing had happened.”
There was another pause while she gathered her thoughts. “Mum took your side, you know. She said it had to have been an accident. You wouldn’t have done it on purpose, she said.”
“She was right, Miss, it was an accident.”
“And then Mum said I was to blame because I should have made you visit the toilet before going to your room. I said there’d not been time, but I gave you an empty bottle to pee in, so there was no excuse for an ‘accident’, as you and Mum put it.”
“What did your Mum say to that?” I asked, out of curiosity.
“I couldn’t understand what she meant, because she said you weren’t capable of peeing in a bottle. What did she mean by that, Julie? I don’t have a willy, so I couldn’t pee in a bottle, but I can’t see any reason why you couldn’t. Any man should be able to.”
“Er… I can’t say why, Miss, I’m not allowed to.”
“Hmm! This makes no sense but it’s still my plan to find out why, though!”
She carried on, “Anyway, Mum said I needed to be punished more than you did. By then I was getting really upset again. I didn’t like the blame being put onto me, so I started arguing loudly, saying how embarrassed I’d been by what you did. I laid it on really thick, and turned on the tears, because I thought that you would get away scot-free, and I would be the one punished. That would make me look really silly. In the end, to calm me down, Mum said she would punish you and that my punishment would be carrying the guilt knowing that I’d had you punished unfairly!”
Even I was shocked to hear this revelation. “Wow, so your Mum punished me to make you feel guilty! And she beat me so that you would hear what was happening, making you feel more guilty.”
“I guess that’s about right, Julie. I’m very sorry. I didn’t know she was going to thrash you like that. I do feel guilty, so I won’t do that again. I’ve learnt my lesson.”
“Thank you, Miss, but it was a harder lesson for me,” I said.
“Yeah, you’re right, Julie. Anyway, I’ve finished my lunch so you can come away from the wall now and get on with your chores. I’ll let you know if I need anything.” With that, she was gone, and I didn’t see her again until dinnertime.
Alice was proving unpredictable. There was the occasional act of kindness but also the frequent episodes of torment. It was like living beneath an active volcano.
