I love my best friend
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MadHouse free porn video
The Mad House
By latexslut
Chapter One: Beginning
It was early yet, with the sun just barely risen, but the
sheer light blue of the sky promised a fine warm day. There
would be a whisper of a breeze, and later in the day, after
noon, it would fade, and it would become warm. Hot even. I
could tell.
Looking out longingly through the huge kitchen window, I
absent mindedly raised the wineglass to my lips. It was
yesterday's wine and there were lipstick stains on it. It
had been so long since my lips had last tasted wine drunk
from a glass, so long since I had been able to drink
standing, so long since I had...
"You filthy perverted slut! What the hell do you think you
are doing?"
I was so startled that I dropped the glass as I spun, fear
coiling in my mind. It shattered on the floor, tinkling
loudly. There before me was Mistress Janice, eyes blazing
fury. She was naked, but for her high heel mules, with
makeup smudged and hair wild. She was beautiful, with high
cheekbones, raven black hair, blue eyes and all of that.
Her breasts rode high, with the left one tattooed and
nipple pierced with a wide gold ring. I knew that Her legs
were long and sultry, and her vulva shaved and pierced but
I didn't dare look. I put my eyes to the ground and looked
at a space about three feet in front of me.
"Nnnuthing, Mistress Janice, I-I was only, only..." I faded
off. I was only breaking the rules was what I was doing,
but I didn't want to have to say that. Not unless I had
too.
"Look at this!" Mistress Janice said, strutting over to me.
"You were only breaking the rules! Weren't you? You filthy
perverted slut! And then you break things!"
She grabbed the short leash that dangled from my collar and
pulled me over to the corner of the kitchen. There were two
dog dishes there. One said, "Slutfood." The other said,
"Slutdrink."
"How dare You? How fucking dare You?" She slapped me. I
tried to say something, but there was nothing to say so I
whimpered.
Mistress Janice became angry then, because I had left some
of my coatings of make up on her Hand. She pulled down on
my leash, looking disgustedly at me.
Once I was kneeling, She said, "Lick this filthy perverted
make up off my hand, you perverted filthy slut."
As I licked off the china white foundation and purple blush
off her hand, eagerly coating my tongue with its waxy
taste, Mistress Janice lectured me on what I already knew.
Sometimes She hit the back of my head for emphasis.
"You eat from this bowl and you drink from that bowl.
Whatever there is, you eat it. And only from these bowls.
You are a filthy little perverted piece of shit. Anything
in these bowls you take, with gratitude to me, and you take
it, till the bowl is clean and gleaming!" Bam!
Her voice was getting shriller now. "You ungrateful little
cow. After your Master Steve was finished with me last
night, didn't I let you eat me!" Bam!
"That was your reward and this is what I get in return?
Stealing my wine from my glass!" She swiveled and turned
back again. "And you break my favorite glass! You gave that
to me for our third anniversary. You told me you loved me
then, skankwhore. And now you break it." Bam!
"I knew you were lying. I can tell. You broke my heart, and
now you break my glass."
She pulled on my leash to raise me to standing. Mistress
Janice calmed herself, and then said in a low menacing
voice "You are such a bad girl, slut. So very bad. You've
always been bad, but now you are worse. Drinking my
wine..."
She was looking at me. I could feel the heat of Her eyes on
my head as I looked down, at Her feet.
"Go to your mirror and look at yourself. Say I am a filthy
perverted slut one hundred times, you filthy perverted
slut." She tugged on my leash again.
"Then go say it to Steve for one hundred times and ask for
punishment. When he has decided, go to Mistress Julie and
Master Jason. If they are still sleeping, wait. And then do
the same."
She paused. I could feel that her arm and body was shaking
in madness. "Is that fair, slut?"
There was nothing else to say. "Yes Mistress Janice, thank
you Mistress Janice."
With that, my wife let go of my leash, and I tottered away,
as quickly as I could, my plug grinding, hips swiveling,
heels clicking.
I hurried past the greeting room, clicked past through the
ballroom, and found the servants door that led down to the
basement. Painfully, I strutted down the hallway to my
room.
Like the mansion I had inherited, the room was huge. But
where as the mansion was styled in marble and columns and
high ceilings, my room was not. The ceiling was low, the
floor a cheap green linoleum the color of puke, and the
walls were coated in rubber. I had had to paint the rubber
with cum, and the smell of it was everywhere. Over in the
corner, far away, was my crib, and cage, a toilet that only
worked on Sundays. In the center of the wall across from it
was a huge full-length wide mirror. It was polished to a
gleam. There was a chair, a stool, and nothing else.
As told, I went to my confession mirror. I put high heeled
boots inside the red square, and looking at myself, began
to say, "I am a filthy perverted slut." Over and over
again.
And I was. Certainly filthy, and now by what I had been
made to do, perverted, or so it would certainly seem to be.
The slut part went without talking about. But I will.
Dear reader, I ask you to rescue me from this. I will do
anything to escape from what has been imposed on me. My
wife, Mistress Janice is quite insane. And she is
influenced by my sister, Mistress Michelle. They are best
friends, but they have got it all wrong. Master Steve, my
wife's lover, and Master James, my sisters lover disagree.
They think I am doing what I want to.
Looking at myself, I chanted. "I am a filthy perverted
slut."
I looked at myself. I had too. And it was so.
On the outside, I was wearing pink gossamer pantaloons and
a blousy pink transparent top. It looked a bit like the
costume on I dream of Jeannie. Underneath, glistening with
moistness, was a clear plastic suit. It was long legged and
long sleeved and zipped at the back with a lock. The collar
of it reached to nestle under my metal collar that attached
to the dangling leash.
My boots were thigh high stretch PVC, with straps at the
top, so tight, that my thigh flesh bulged over a bit. The
boots were too small, and my toes, in the pointed clutch of
six inch heels, were pinched. Mistress Janice had said that
my feet, only a size nine, were too large, so smaller sizes
would make them smaller.
My boots were size seven. The toes were pointy.
I wore shoulder length latex gloves. They covered my satin
gloves. Those had been white and long, but now, who knew
what color they were. I had short white satin gloves with
bows on them over now.
Under the clear plastic suit, I wore a purple accented
French maids dress, with white blossomy petticoats. The cut
showed off the cleavage of my huge false breasts, which
glistened. The stockings, what you could see of them were
once white, but now were laddered, and had gone gray. You
could see the suspenders from my crushing corset trying to
hang on to them.
And finally, under the maids dress, was the corset, the
plug, the latex panties, the pouch that kept my loins in
check, pierced twice up to down and thrice, side to side. I
won't go into the tattoos.
Now that Mistress Janice had slapped me, my makeup was a
mess. As I repeated my mantra, I knew I would have to fix
that as soon as I could. Everyday, for the last 34 days (I
count them), I had had to refresh my make up. That means, a
new white powder coat, fresh base, purple blush, new
eyeliner, purple shadow, mascara. Over and over again. It
was very thick now.
I don't know why Mistress Janice got it into her head to
make me out into a China doll. My makeup always gets messed
up when I am eating her or Mistress Michelle. But She
insists.
But on the same token, I don't know why Mistress Janice got
any of this into her head. One day, all is fine, and the
next, 34 days ago, she has flipped. One day, I come home
from golf, and two hours later, she is freaking out.
"I'm getting old and saggy," she says. "You won't love me
anymore."
I try to reassure her, that I always will, but she looks at
me funny.
Her beautiful eyes, those that I fell in love with, scrunch
up. "Not when I'm a hag, you won't."
I say, "We'll be hags together then," trying to lighten it
up, but Mistress Janice is looking, my wife is looking,
just a bit odd.
"I've been talking to your sister, you know," She says.
"You love her don't you?"
I am taken aback. I say, "of course I do. She's my sister,
and way cool. You like her too!"
And then she goes crazy.
Chapter 2
I finished saying my mantra: I am a filthy perverted slut.
By the time I was finished, I almost believed it. Again.
You would to if you said if hundreds of times each day,
lived it, smelt it, looked it, tasted it, heard it. You
would too. You really would.
I clicked up the stairs in my tight spike heels to the main
floor, and continued upstairs to the livings quarters. I
could hear the television on in my wife's bedroom. I
clicked into the room. Steve, my best friend and former
business partner was reclined on the bed against some
propped pillows watching basketball or something from the
sounds of it. He was naked, tanned, built. I used to be
built like that, I thought briefly. Tanned too.
"Hey, Jeff, what's up," he said. He usually called me by my
old name when it was just the two of us, like old friends.
"Master Steve, I was bad and Mistress Janice told me to
come here and tell you and say my mantra and accept
punishment," I said.
"Jeez, that's too bad." Steve looked me over and his eyes
went back to the television. "Say the mantra first, towards
the wall or something, and then tell me about it. I'm
watching the game. The Lakers are going to kick some ass
this year."
I clicked into the farthest corner I could find and looked
at him. I had too. It was required and began to recite my
mantra. But I said it as quietly as I could so as not to
bother him, and he took no notice. A couple of times he
swore as some player didn't make the play he expected.
"Halftime," he said, then looked at me. "You done yet?"
I wasn't and continued to say my mantra. I am a filthy
perverted slut. I was on fifty seven.
"Jeez," Steve exclaimed, a bit ticked. "It's only us in the
room, you don't have to do this, Jeff. And it ticks me off
sometimes."
But I did. Oh, how I did. Mistress Janice knew everything,
or seemed too. I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell him,
my best friend in the world that this was all wrong. That
I... I hurried with my mantra, saying it fast, counting.
Finally, I finished.
"Thank you, Master Steve for hearing me."
"Geez, Jeff, come here. Sit on the bed. Tell me, what did
you do this time." He said it patient, kindly, and bemused.
I almost cried. I sat on the bed.
"I accidentally drank from M-Mistress J-janice's wine
glass," my voice trembled. Steve was the only kind person
in the house. But he was in thrall of my wife, and believed
everything that She and I told him. "And then, I-I broke
it. Accidentally. She scared me."
"Well, there you've done it. God, sit further away, you
smell like ripe tuna!"
He didn't mean it mean. I mean I didn't smell perfume
fresh, but still it hurt my feelings and a tear fell from
my eye.
"Jeff, listen, tell me," Steve sat up, further away, still
naked. "You like this? You want this. I wouldn't be here
doing this if you didn't. I mean Jan's nice and all, but
there's lots of women out there. I wouldn't be fucking your
wife if you hadn't told me that's what you really liked.
Jeez. You're my bud, man. I felt weird taking your wife
that first time with you watching. Sleeping in your bed and
all. I love you man, but if this is your kink, I'll play
it. Never knew you were so weird though."
"Master Steve, this is exactly what I want, and I thank
you. You are my Master bud too," I said. Inside, I screamed
no! I don't want this. I don't want any of this.
You're stealing my wife in front of me, my sister is
sissifying me and my life has gone to shit!
Steve had been Mistress Janice's first. And best, Mistress
Janice told me, so She dumped the others. According to
Mistress Janice, he knew his moves. I'd seen it. He was
really good with Her. Fantastic. It almost hurt to know
that he was a better lover by far than I had been. He was a
keeper, She said. I had had to watch. She had told Steve,
on one relatively drunken night that I love to wear panties
and watch Her make love to another. Steve had been drunk
enough to go along with it, though he kept asking me if it
was okay. I had been trained well enough by then so that I
encouraged him.
I had said, per script, "Fuck my wife, Steve, it turns me
on. I love sloppy seconds."
My wife had smiled at that, knowing my fear, and fucked him
high and deep and slow. Steve had looked at me one last
time and then lost himself into her.
I got sloppy seconds, and had to thank Steve about it. Not
to be able to enter, oh no. Just to clean Her. She came a
second time from my tongue.
Steve reached over to Mistresses nightstand and grabbed a
key. He unlocked my collar. "I'm not going to punish you on
this. Jason and your bitch sister can do that. But still,
you get what you need, Jeff. You are so weird. Don't unzip,
till I come. You smell so used."
I climbed off the bed and knelt before him. He might be my
friend, but he'd learned that I'd learned how to do an
expert blowjob. He sprang to life and I took him in. As I
bobbed him, he chanted his own mantra, like the one
Mistress Janice and I had taught him to say.
"You filthy perverted slut. I honor you with my dick. Take
my come and wear it. Forever."
And I did, even as he pushed my head deeper and more
roughly and forgot that we were buds that played golf
together and then at the last second, he unzipped the back
of my plastic suit, lowered my collar and shot semen into
my maids dress, moaning.
"Finish me, whore," he said breathfully. I licked the last
dropped, feeling the come soak my dress, there to be kept.
"Tuna, kethuna, you are a minnow," Steve said, zipping me
up again. He looked at me again. "Jeff. I did my part. I
pity you and your kinks. But you will always be my friend.
And now, I think you best report to your sister." He locked
the collar back on, raised me by my short leash. "Cum
lips," he said absently. "Shit, the games back on. Get
outta here."
I could feel the moistness of his come sliding down my
maid's dress. I was glad that Steve was a benign part of
the kink, even as I saw my wife fall in love with him. I
thanked him, but he didn't hear and left to go speak with
Mistress Julie, my sister.
Strangely, as I clicked down the hallway, I felt glad that
I had pleased him.
Chapter 3
I felt Master's semen slide into my corset, as I clicked
away from Mistress Janice's bedroom and the sound of the
game receded. I licked my lips and began to sweat, afraid.
Mistress Julie, my sister, would be angry. Very angry.
Once we had been close friends, almost inseparable. But
then, with a boy's foolish meanness, when I was sixteen and
Julie was thirteen, I had cut off her ponytail. She freaked
and cried. I laughed and then felt guilty and apologized.
Dad grounded me, Mom glared at me. I ended up crying too.
Julie said she forgave me, and I think she wanted too, but
she hasn't yet, and I don't think she ever will. Not now.
Her vengeance is cemented on me.
I could hear the moans in their bedroom, but I went in
anyways. Master Jason was on top of Mistress Julie,
humping. They were rocking each other and then Mistress
Julie looked over at me.
"What the fuck are you doing here, you perverted little
slut!"
"Nn, nothing, Mistress Julie."
"Why are you invading my space, dog whore?" She wore
contempt so well.
"Mistress Janice told me to come tell you immediately, er,
that, I...," I trailed off.
Master Jason kept pumping into her, oblivious. She looked
away, kissed him deep and writhed with him to climax. I
watched and began to say my mantra.
Not looking at me, Mistress Julie told me to say it slower
and like I meant it. "Feel it inside."
He moaned, she screamed, they came. I felt so bad. "I am a
filthy perverted slut." Master Steve's semen dripped down.
"You were saying?" Mistress Julie looked at me again.
"I drank from a glass, the wine glass I gave Mistress
Janice for our third anniversary and then I dropped it
and..." and I was just blurting it out. There was no way to
stop it. It would be easier this way. But it would be hard.
My sister's eyes are almond shaped and slightly tilted. She
looks wicked when she decides to wear Asian eyes. I
remember still, when I cut her ponytail, how they could go
cross-eyed. Now they did, again. Her eyes looked to be like
search lights looking into the opposite corners of the
room. I heard the hiss of her breath, even as she clasped
Master Jason's cock inside her, her legs wrapped around his
torso.
Even Master Jason, though I couldn't see his face, seemed
tight and concerned. Now, though, he turned his face to me.
"Oh, my." He said. "This should be fun."
Master Jason isn't mean. He's just weird. I think he's
secretly transvestite, and taking it out on me. He's the
one who fed my sister and wife all of these ideas. He
doesn't know what he's doing to me. He's the one who came
up with plastic and plugs and corsets and boots that are
too small.
I think that my sister interrogates him about what to about
me. Mostly, though, he's an enigma. I hardly ever see him,
except when he's in my sister's clutches.
"Clean me."
I tottered over to her, as Master Jason slipped aside.
"Him first."
I knelt and he gave me his soft dick. I sucked it well, and
felt him harden and...
"That's enough. I'm leaking your precious reminders."
I climbed, gently, into the bed and began to suck my
sister's lovers cum. There was a lot of it. As I did,
messing my china white make up, and my purple lipstick,
Mistress Julie began to ramble and lecture me.
"Her glass... my lipstick... Jason's wine."
I licked deeper, pushing, and she began to writhe again.
"You betrayed us all..."
She was clean now, but there was more to this. And her hips
began to thrust.
"No solid foods for you, you perverted little slut." She
moaned, thinking. "Baby food, mostly peas."
"Not for a week. At least. And I will personally make sure
your slut drink has treats from me."
She was almost to coming, but then Master Jason said,
"Diapers. Give the tramp an enema to keep, and a diaper to
show it's dry."
I trembled, a tear fell, I licked deeper, harder. She
writhed anyways.
"No diapers for this slut, Jay. But the enema will do her
good. With more Viagra."
I hated the Viagra pills. It made me so hard, so very
horny, so needy. I would almost do anything for release.
But that was denied. In fact my poor swollen penis had it
tattooed on it. "Cum denied."
That had hurt, too.
She came.
I cried, but she pushed me deeper and muffled me. "Tell Jan
to give, no. Wait, I'll do this one."
She stopped, breathless and hit me. "Get off my bed!"
I rolled onto the floor.
"To me, Jay. Hold me."
He slipped right in where I had been licking, looked at me
and said, "Get out."
She looked at me, said, "I will punish you later, you
perverted whore. Wear the penis gag now."
"No?" The penis gag was so horrible. If you put it on and
in, you can't take it off, not without the key. Once on,
you can't even talk. You can't even protest. You....
"Yes. And now. Me and Jay have some talking to do. About
you! Now out!"
I clicked away as they fucked, again, downstairs to get the
penis gag.
***
Writers Note: I apologize. I have been remiss in continuing
with the Intro to Sissy series. Got a bit stuck, got a bit
busy. The next chapter, poorly written, should be posted
when you read this, based on the editor's schedule.
Editors: I commend your efforts. And thank you.
On a side note, anyone who reads this, may take characters
from any of the scenarios and go with it as you will. I
would tailor my writings around it, and even be encouraged
to write more, and write better. Useless and this one,
whose actual name is Herbert (though) you probably not read
that name used, are mine. And anyone who wants to
perpetuate the ascent/descent series is welcome to.
Lastly, I apologize if I offend.
Sincerely, latex slut.
Julianne
- 10.07.2022
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