Dozy Doris humbled and taught respect.
I knocked on Mistress Helen’s door nervously. I didn’t know why she had summoned me but she had sounded cross.  “Get in, and take your shoes off, you worm!” she ordered. Once inside, she told me to stand up straight. “Do you know why I sent for you? she asked sternly. “No madam” I replied innocently.
“Well, I’ll tell you. Not only are you a useless dodgy bodger of a pervy handyman, but when you saw my maid this morning you upset her so much I’ve had to give her the day off!”
“Well, I did say she’s got a nice juicy pair, but I was talking about the fruit bowl. She must have taken it the wrong way” I said. “Don’t be stupid”, she said, slapping my face. “We all know what you meant”. I tried a different approach. “I was only joking,  trying to be friendly. It was just a bit of harmless banter”. Mistress glared at me. “Anyway” I continued “I thought she’d be flattered, and grateful for the attention”. It turns out she wasn’t! When in a hole, stop digging!
“You’ll be punished for your disrespect” she said sternly. “You will also be my maid for the afternoon, and serve me and my guest, Miss Wynters to you!”. “Maybe you’ll appreciate how hard maids work”. I noticed a lovely young woman behind mistress Helen, looking at me severely. “I can hardly believe his cheek!” she said. “He needs to be taken down several pegs. We could start by making him do a striptease”. “Good idea” said Mistress.
They sat down to watch and laugh at my clumsy attempts at Burlesque. “Don’t give up the day job” they advised. “Not that you’re any good at that either. Handyman? You’re not very handy, and certainly not much of a man, are you?” they laughed, pointing at the tiny todger between my legs. “Lets get it covered up. We can take him to the adult shop later, in his maid dress of course, and make him buy himself a chastity device, an extra small one of course!”.
They made me put on a pair of white ladies knickers, followed by the most ridiculously frilly pair of pink satin panties I’ve ever seen. A black satin maid dress followed, complete with frilly white apron, blond wig and lacy maid’s cap. “What a sissy!” they joked. “He looks rather frumpy”, said Mistress Helen. “Let’s give him a frumpy name”. After considering a few options, they settled on ‘Dozy Doris’ as being suitably humiliating.
My first chore was to skip and mince up and down the room, much to their amusement, to tidy my clothes, and curtsey to both when I had finished.
“Every sissy needs a collar and gag” said Mistress Helen. She put a pink ‘slut’ collar on me, and then stuffed a pair of black panties in my mouth, followed by a wooden penis gag to keep it all in place. “I love that gag” said Miss Wynter “We hear so much nonsense from male chauvinistic pigs like him that it’s a relief to be able to shut one of them up. Let’s keep him like that all the time”. “Way ahead of you” said Mistress as she clamped my nipples and attached the connecting chain to my gag to keep my head bowed. The clamps were fitted with little budgie bells so I tinkled as I moved, which they found highly amusing.
I was put over their knees and they both gave me a good hand spanking. “That’s just a warm-up” I was told. “There’s plenty more where that came from, so you’d better buck your ideas up and behave. Now get in the kitchen and put the kettle on!” I turned to obey, but was called back. “Rule 1; Curtsy to us both EVERY time we speak to you”. she warned.
I served them both a cup of tea, and a chocolate éclair. While they enjoyed their refreshment, I had to massage Miss Wynters’ feet. I hope she liked it as much as I did. Once they had finished, I had to tidy their plates away, before being told to stand in the corner with my hands on my head. As Miss Wynters spanked my sissy backside, she told me how good it felt to put a worthless male in his place, and that I had better get used to it. Meanwhile Mistress Helen fetched some rope. What more indignities are they planning for me?
First of all I had to sweep up the mess that Mistress’s pussy (Cat) had made. Then they decided I should polish Miss Wynters’ shoes, while she was still wearing them. The wooden penis gag was replaced with a harness panel gag. This had another pair of panties tucked into the strap, with which I did the polishing. Mistress Helen stood behind me with a wooden spanking implement, to make sure I was giving the task my full attention. Eventually they gave their grudging approval to my efforts.
“He could do with some down time” said Mistress Helen. “Let’s tie him up. We can discuss how we might be able to make some money out of him”. Still gagged, I had to lay on the floor as Mistress  Helen secured my wrists behind my back and Miss Wynters bound my ankles. The ankle and wrist ropes were then tied together to put me in a hogtie. “That’s  sorted him out; but we don’t want to look at his ugly mug, do we?” said Mistress as she put a pink satin hood over my head.
I had to lay there, ignored, while they talked about their various ideas to hire me out to neighbours as a cleaner, or have me trained and restrained as a ‘male pleaser’ and spanking target at their BDSM parties. Alarmed at this, I grunted some involuntary protests. Mistress hit me and told me to be quiet. “If I want your opinion, which I don’t, I’ll remove your gag. Until then, keep quiet!” she said. They told me to struggle to get myself free. I did my best, but I was clearly going nowhere until they untied me. Yet another reason to mock!
Eventually they did release me, only to bend me over the sofa for another good spanking. They hit me in unison on each butt cheek with leather straps. “That’ll teach you to try and speak with your mouth full!” said Mistress Helen. “Speaking of mouthfuls, let’s see how you get on with a bit of dildo worship.”
They each had a massive (compared to my puny penis) dildo. After my gag was released, I had to put condoms on using only my mouth, before giving them each a good oral servicing. “He’s not up to much, but I suppose he does make a passable gobbling teasemaid” said Miss Wynters with a laugh. I took that as a compliment; the only one I was likely to get.
“Go back to your corner and keep still while we think about what to do with you”. I obeyed, but unfortunately I fidgeted 3 times, which earned me a further 3 dozen strokes on my bare, already sore, red backside; 18 from each lady. I had to count them out. Mistress Helen went first with a hair brush and a wooden spoon, and Miss Wynters followed with more of the same. I managed to avoid her attempts to trick me into miscounting, so Mistress finally gave me a few extra ones anyway, “for luck”.
My lesson was nearly over. I had to curtsy to each of them in turn, thank them for their correction, and promise to be more respectful to women in general, and maids in particular. With a final slap on the face I was dismissed. “Get dressed and get out of our sight!”