MadHouse
- 1 year ago
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Madhouse 2 free porn video
Author's Note: I have no idea where this story is headed. I know I
started this because there were, at the time, a lot of well, not very
excellent stories being posted (that has certainly changed). So being
sleepy, I figured I'd try to push the envelope a bit. I wanted to go to
far, when love and kinks go astray and make the reading painful. And
then just let it go from there. So I typed. Here's my own review for
it: Good writing, bad story. (But who knows, maybe it can be saved).
Chapter 4
Quietly, fearfully, I shut the door to Mistress Julie and Master
Jason's bedroom, a tear of fear leaking from my eye, making a black
mascara trail down my cheek. My make up was already in disaster and it
wasn't yet 10 am: The sun going towards hot, and this day going to ruin
and pain and, of this I was sure, degradation. The glint in Master
Jason's eyes had assured me of that. I wish I had slept in, and just
drank from my doggy dish later. What was I thinking? Drinking from My
Wife's favorite glass. Idiote'
I leaned forward as far as I could on my toes, to minimize the click
clack of my heels, but they are so high it was impossible to not touch
down the heel. Master Steve, my Mistress and Wife's lover, my best
friend, had the game on loud though. I don't think he heard me as I
passed my old bedroom. I was safe.
Close to the top of the stairs, quiet so far, looking at my shoes to
make sure they walked soft, Mistress Janice, my wife, was standing two
steps up and snorted in contempt. Surprised, I began to lose my
balance. The heels, so high, gave no support. My right hand, in latex,
and silk, slipped on the banister. The corset I was wearing, along with
the plastic suit slowed me, especially since my diet had been changed
to soften me. My ankle began to turn. It all happened very slowly.
Mistress Janice said, "I assume that Mistress Julie has decided you
should start by wearing the lock on penis gag." She took no notice of
the fact that I was falling. She said it as though saying, gee, it's a
quarter after three already.
My left hand reached out for balance, for an embrace, for a hand.
Something to stop me from falling all the way down those long twenty
steps. I grabbed her arm and steadied myself, my left leg crossing over
to support.
"Don't you touch me, you filthy perverted slut," She hissed, as she
shook my arm off. "Your tongue is allowed in my pussy or my ass.
Nothing more. Even if your perversions are covered in rubber," Then she
even nudged me back to the banister. "Nothing else. Ever."
And I fell. My back hit the edges of the steps, then I flipped over,
slid and then hit the railing. Finally, I splayed out on the landing. I
had thought I was going to die, but instead had somehow done a painful
back summersault down dangerous stairs. I hurt, my back hurt. The edges
of wooden stairs will hurt your back whether there is corset bunting or
not.
But I could have died.
As if to remind me of the fact, my Wife said from the top of the
stairs, "Maids sometimes get health care. Filthy perverted sluts do
not. Go put in your gag now. Jason will deal with you later. I am sure
he has ideas. By the way," she said, wrinkling her beautiful little
nose, "you stink. Now go."
My mind recoiled violently. Beyond the kink, beyond the disgrace,
beyond everything, there was such a thing as compassion. There was such
an action as Samaritan. It flashed quick and it flashed deep, my
understanding of my world and it hurt badly that I was trapped in it.
My wife had let me fall. She hadn't cared then. She didn't now.
When her trigger flipped thirty plus days ago, I didn't know what to
think. I didn't know how to react. I loved Janice, and that had made me
weak and left me in this position. But weakness is a thing that is
allowed between husband and wife, wife and wife, husband and husband.
Your partner is where you go to when you are weak. No one is steel
24/7.
But now I knew that my wife of last years was not here this year. Now I
knew that the wife I had loved, even now with tendrils, was an enemy to
me. I think, no, I know, my sister would have taken my arm. Steve would
have, Jason absolutely (I was too much entertainment). But my wife had
come to hate me and it all made sense.
She had fallen in love with a very strong and bossy man. And now. Well
now was different. Now I was sissy, now I was maid, now I was made, and
now She didn't recognize me. I don't think she knew that she was the
one that got different when Phyllis died.
And now, it seemed that this would be a war. A war that would take a
long time, and I would have to fight in a very sissy way. Because there
was no other way.
Chapter 5
Achingly, I clicked down stairs, amazed that nothing was broken. I
hadn't even sprained an ankle. My back was killing me from where I had
landed, upside down, but as I had fallen, tailspining my arms, my back
had been placed even so I had three deep even bruises. My back flip
over that amazed me in retrospect. I guess I have good survival
reactions.
In the come smell of my basement dungeon is a table close to the door.
There are many kinky things there, all used and well used. Now I
inserted, as instructed, the penis gag. It's four inches long in a
latex soft material. It's fat and reaches just short of the reflect
tonsil. It attached to a fat leather strap. The gag is coated in
leather. Sewn and stapled, my Wife started wearing this in her vagina
about a week before I noticed the changes in her.
Someone is almost always wearing it now. The leather has her flavor of
weeks of pussy wear. And is soft and chewed from weeks of me wearing it
as well. She loves it. I hate it. I can't talk. I fastened the leather
straps around my neck, shoulders and head. The penis gag is so onerous.
Another penis can be attached on the outside.
I taste my wife's sex and now, for the first time, find it bitter,
repugnant even. I am out of love now.
I open a rubberist magazine. I am a reader by nature. If there is
nothing to do, I will read. So now I am reading pictures of totally
beautiful women in latex and rubber, making it look divine. The
black/white issues carry wherever I think.
There are cameras and I have to be doing something, even while doing
nothing. Unless of course, I am supposed to be doing nothing.
My books are gone. My games are gone. Steve has my golf clubs and loves
them. He thanked me for giving them to him. I told him I was so glad
they were good for him. When he told me he was one over par, I promptly
kneeled and sucked him off. That made us even. He patted my head. I
ruined my make up with a tear.
I sat on the bed and found myself wondering this: Why very heavy black
eyeliner with china white make up. Who thunk this? Does anyone really
truly know (I sucked on my leather covered penis) how hard it is to
cover a black trail in china white? Maybe painters. Make up is supposed
to be breathie free, and a whole bunch of other trite things. Mine is
plaster: black line tear falls, that requires four coats of china
white, then blush and lip stick. It's all there on the table. And then
another tear will fall.
And now my plug hurt. (It hurt a bit all the time, but when the
pressure pushed very hard, it hurt more) I needed relief, the shock and
weirdness of the morning, all my fault of course, had stopped me from
my morning absolutions. I was full and stuffed and needed relief. A
fear, The fear, crept into me. They hadn't forgot ever before but what
if they did. What if they left me this way and I had to explode inside
my body or outside. It was a constant fear. The plug was that tight.
And what if I exploded out back and they keep me in my plastic?
The door opened. Steve stood there. He looked a bit upset. "Come up to
Mistress Julies bedroom." He left, looking strong and manly and the way
I had been, and sad.
I followed, clicking and clacking, sore and bruised and gagged. And
very, very pretty, if you like the look of used sluts. My eye sent
another black tear line on my porcelain face.
Chapter 6
In the dining room, they were all there. On the table, were many
things. I felt foreboding, and slippery with new and old come. My ass
throbbed sensuously and horribly. Terrifying to me, and i kept this to
myself, my penis was very very hard, and harder than Viagra should make
it. Mentally, I actually was feeling horny. And this terrified me.
Jason wore golf clothes, checked and dorky looking, with golf shoes
with spikes. Mistress Janice, apparently, wasn't going golfing: She was
in leather, held a whip and a can of whip cream. Her make up was Goth.
Mistress Jackie held the hammer. Steve held a beer, and sweated. He was
not into this.
He almost fell down on the stool in the kitchen.
They were all sitting. But the eyes darted. They darted to where the
glass had broken. They darted to the slut drink dish and the slut food.
I curtsied. What else could I do. The atmosphere was hostile.
Jason began, "You disobeyed." His voice, lilting, lingered on the s's.
"You failed."
I trembled, stayed silent.
"You stink. Even from here, it's old come, old whatever. However, you
slut!
I don't want to banish you." The others were looking at him, except
Steve was watching the sun lift higher. Maybe for better golfing.
I knew I smelt. 30 days of old come. From two men. And even once, from
me. That was the first. I smeared my come over my penis and ball sack
and then it had been chastised. The lack of sex since then, the
hormones, and Viagra had all added up to leaving me lustful. I had no
idea then how hard things would be.
"You were bad, slut, very bad. And need punishment," Jason said. I saw
Janice's eyes brighten and then she turned to kiss Jackie. Gross. My
wife kissing my sister, but clearly they were turned on by my plight.
Jason stood. He had hairy legs, a decent stomach, and a five inch dick,
which now stood at attention. Again. "You must agree to terms."
He was so thematic. I followed suit. There was no iffing about this.
"this slut agrees to terms."
Perfect words, clearly, for his penis enlarged and grew. My wife and
sister were almost muff diving on each other, listening. Steve looked
sad and gazed away.
Jason kissed my forehead. "You have five hours to bathe and shave and
breathe." He smiled. "Then the pain begins." He squeezed my ass. He
said, "I've waited."
Then he took some very heavy duty scissors and cut the plastic off of
me, Quickly, because even I could smell the rank smell of come, he cut
the corset. Then he coughed. He sliced the locks off the thigh high
boots and the latex coated gloves. "Oh, you cum skank. Get out of here.
Someone light some incense."
I ran as fast as my heels would allow me, letting the come covered
debris drag behind. Click clack.
Chapter 7
The basement had no bathtub, but the main floor did. It was a Jacuzzi
tub that Janice and I had often sat in, on Fridays, together. Candles
and wine and swirling water. Mild chit chat. Truly, those days were
romance.
I cranked on the hot water and fought my way out of my boots. I had
worn them so long, my legs arched and sexy. I ripped off the stockings,
wormed my way out of the corset that hadn't been cut through, breathing
deeply, finally breathing deeply. I knew it was a trade off. Master
Jason wasn't nice and had ideas, but this, this freedom, I took. It was
like the center of the hurricane, knowing, knowing that what comes
after?
I ripped off my wig. The water was hot. I slid into it, knowing,
counting the minutes.
Into the tub, I poured, with two hands, shampoo and conditioner. It
might fuck up the plumbing, but not right now. The bubbles began
immediately.
Heaven. I still had my butt plug in, and my piercings, but for the
first time in over a month I was naked. And never had I know how
wonderful naked was. I put my china white face into the water and felt
it slough away. I raised my head out of the singing water, wiped and
went back again.
Heaven. Sometimes, it's the little things. This time it was not and I
was in Heaven. A bath, of swirling water, shampoo, and time. Heaven.
Then my feet began to hurt. The tendons, the tendons. So I grabbed the
boots and slid them on in the water for support. It looked silly, me
sitting there, with my implants, piercings and black thigh boots, cut,
but it felt great. Besides, except for the cameras, who was looking?
I leaned back. And thought.
In my dungeon, I had lots of time to feel the pain and embarrassment of
my situation. I had time to smell myself and the come and stuff I wore,
before I became immune to it, except for whiffs that embarrassed me. I
had time to fear, and fret.
Now, I luxuriated. I stayed in the Jacuzzi for minutes that went to
hours. My fingers and arms and body went pickles. I didn't want to get
out. And then, too soon, too soon?.
"You aren't allowed to be here, you filthy preverty slut," Mistress
Julie glared at me, standing tall and pretty, in a formal gown of all
things. "This is where normal people bathe. You have a bucket."
"Curtsey, Mistress Julie, "I exclaimed, with a lisp even. "I was told
to get clean. This slut apologizes for wrongness. This maid will clean
the tub."
"Damn straight."
Master Jason appeared then, smacked his head, and said, "upstairs,
skank."
They turned. I followed, dripping water out of my boots. I followed
them into Mistress Julies room, which was a bad thing. She threw me a
towel. "Get out of those boots."
I stepped out and dried myself and felt the pain in my calves. Oh god,
I need! Heels.
Steve looked at me with acid. "Dude, You're my friend. But geez. This
is going too far."
There was nothing I could say, but obviously someone had said
something.
My wife was on the bed, naked, her breasts rock high. She split her
legs. She eyed me. She fingered herself. Tasted herself. Mouthed, fuck
you forever. "Make it happen, Jason."
I trembled. My arches were hurting, my ass was ok, and my cock was
longing and stiff, though bent badly.
Jason approached me, looking in control and evil. He said, "Here is the
deal hon. You can put everything you wore before and a hood too, or you
can trust me. Either way, it's gonna hurt. Your call."
I didn't trust him at all, but what had been was awful. The coffin box
worse. "I trust you, Master Jason."
He smiled wickedly. "Lay on the bed, then."
I did.
Immediately both my sister and wife snuggled over to me. I was kissed.
I was petted. I was told that this was a good thing for me.
Jason showed me a metal nipple cover. It was fat and outdented, looking
and making an nipple. There was a hole in it. I watched helplessly as
he pulled my falsie breast away, exposing my sissy nipple. He attached
a wire.
He place the nipple cover over my A cup breast. He felt the fat I'd
been growing. He fingered around.
"Ah," he said, looking pleased. "hold the perverts arms now."
Steve, looking shaken, grabbed my right arm. Mistress Jackie and
Janice, held the other.
Jason played with the steel for a bit, and then applied a liquid, super
glue or something, I was not sure, but it seemed that way. "You pay, to
play. You pay for that bath."
He was chanting. "I wouldn't have let you be clean. Since you are,
after all! A filthy perverted slut!"
He placed the two shields over my sissy nipples and pressed.
"I love your sister, slut. And she doesn't much like you."
He brought out two hook screws and showed them to me. "The glue dries,
I apply, and your falsies will never fall down. You should thank me."
The glue dried.
Steve looked terrified. Janice and Jackie were muff diving, Jackie
mumbling about how she can't believe I take this so well.
Jason looked at me again, and decided the penis gag would be
appropriate. He offered, and I, with a look at him, took it. He locked
it down, smiling.
And then he took the hood screws and began to screw them into my
breasts. Through the nipple, through the flesh, through the muscle,
into the bone.
I had no time to worry about infection. I was screaming in pain.
Jason smiled. "Clean sissies love pain. Dirty sissies are afraid of it.
Do You want to be clean or dirty?"
I didn't have an answer.
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