MadHouse
- 2 years ago
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MadHouse 4 free porn video
(Author's note: I apologize in advance for offending everyone. But, so
often, I read reviews that say this story or that story is the same old
pap. I've read this theme many times before. I personally don't feel
that way: That's like saying, "Yeah, I've had a couple orgasms, been
there, done that. I want the next big thing." And so on.
It's all the same theme, and it's all enjoyable to my mind, if it's
written well. I am rusty. So please forgive me at the awkwardness of the
narrative. Don't forgive me on the story: I'm just pushing an envelope
and typing for the hell of it, because it's fun. After all, when we
write, who are we writing for? Me or You.
I thank Fictionmania for allowing me to engage in my narcistic thoughts,
and share them.)
Madhouse 4
Through the gag, I was mewling as quietly as I could, a little hnnn,
hnnn, emoting from my mouth. The fear, and the fear, and quite simply
the stark terror of what was happening were sending waves of pain
through me. At Mistress' direction, I could almost be quiet. Almost. But
I couldn't stop my body from shuddering. I was practically spasming.
The cause wasn't from my newly nipple wired giant breasts. Those, floppy
before, they were so big, had been encased by the latex suit. The suit
was cut to accommodate them, in a four square glued pattern, and helped
stick out and high, with the rubber nipple clearly visible. With the
spandex over, I didn't ever feel the pull of the wire, although I did
notice that the nipple area of the spandex had been cut out. It worried
me, but my chest felt ok, just heavy. My nipples weren't hurting.
It was in fact the fear, however, and partially that I was in a full
latex suit, with the liquid latex inside, trying to connect me to the
latex permanently.
It was also partially, actually very very partially that I was wearing a
butt plug so huge, I would, as Jason had said "turn me pigeon toe." He
hadn't said the half of it. I would indeed walk pigeon toe, but that was
then. Right now, it hurt. It hurt, and it filled me and widened me, and
it hurt. Frighteningly, it caressed me as well.
It was also partially, that my little dick was imprisoned and chastised
and cathetered to my ass. The long clamp was tight, and yet...
What truly scared me, was Jason's toybox, toys, and that I was as hard
as I could be in my tummy tied steel chastity belt. The never ending
box. The ever nending box.
I knew he was out of control. Everyone in the room felt it, but they
were sloggy. Morning drinks laced with something. Mistress Janice, my
wife, and Mistress Jackie, my sister were dressing me dreamily,
obediently, but their backs would shudder, like they were having cum
spasms. I wondered if the drinks had some sort of Viagra or Spanish fly.
Even Steve seemed to move in slow motion. I wondered if it was me, in
hyper time, the adrenaline jazzing through me, though even now, I felt
tired and weak and something else.
The sun was at mid sky now. I glanced, and could see the shimmer of heat
outside. It was going to be a hot one. Steve would have baked on the
grass, hitting the balls. I was thankful for the air conditioning, even
as I found myself sweating. Into nowhere.
Slap!
"Pay attention, you filthy perverted slut, "Jason told me, glaring. He
cackled. "It's toy time!"
And that's why I was mewling, as quiet as I could. My ass was in pain,
and I feared the worst was too come. It's late, too late, perverted
sissy slut. Too late for me.
Even though things were sloggy, and the three of them were sloggy, they
were all kinky and horny and began to finish my final dressings with
relish.
Jason did my hood. It was a female latex mask, with mesh of steel
impregnated within. It was very feminine, with long fake lashes, thin
eye brows, purple blush, eye shadows of multiple hues. And a long neck,
reaching to my shoulders. The mesh was very thin, and almost
unnoticeable on the inside, and completely hidden outside. It was a very
thick mask, with cheek bones I didn't quite have. Nor wanted.
Jason hit me. "Nod your head. If I take the penis gag out, will you just
shut up?"
I nodded vigorously.
He took out my gag. I said nothing thing, but looked thankful and with
hope. That was misplaced.
He pulled the latex hood over me, and crammed the O ring over my teeth,
making an O, around which my red lips trembled. There was a cut out in
the mask for my eyes, but that was all. The nostril holes were small. He
tightened the laces. And the O was stuck. Jason smiled and reached back
behind my head. He pulled again on the laces holding the mask. He
tightened the neck, making a seal. He tightened the skull part again,
pulling viciously, breathing deep. Tighter, and then a bit tighter. I
could feel him fumble a bit, and knew exactly what he was doing, as I
watched his chest. He was making knots on the two strands of rope. He
pulled them together, and reaching for one of his little locks, hooked
the clasp and locked them together.
I eyed him and his smile. He smiled back at me ferociously. He reached
into his toybox and pulled out a pair of wire cutters. Reaching behind
me again, I heard two snips.
He produced the left over laces. He pulled one of the lace strands.
"Lovely black nylon, but, of course, reinforced with cable. You like?"
I had no choice but to nod, and I did. But then I realized that was old
conditioning. Saying yes now, wouldn't save me at all, so I shook my
head no and said "oh."
His eyes went half lidded, and then he started a silent laugh, hiding
it, holding it. "Oh? Is that how you talk now, you perverted little
sissy slut? Oh?"
He of course knew that with the O ring locked tightly in my mouth, I had
no consonants available. It was all vowels and intention now. Words like
love would be uh, help would be eh, and something like go away from me,
would be o a uh e.
I shook my head no.
This time, he laughed out loud, and the others turned. "I promise you,
you perverted sissy slut, you won't be able to shake your head when
we're finished. Don't you like that?"
He sat back and admired the ebony form, and cream faced creation before
him.
Janice and Janet had stopped their muff diving and were looking at me in
a peculiar way.
"God, Jason, what did you do?"
My wife said, "God, that is so perfect! The perfect whoreslut. He, I
mean, she will worship me."
Steve said, "Can I test drive it?"
"More Stollis, honeybuns," Jason laughed, calmly, more reassured now.
"We have a long day ahead, and then the slut will somehow make dinner,
but we're only starting."
My wife declared, rising, her breasts, her lovely breasts heaving.
"Haven't we done enough?"
Steve snarled. "You haven't done anything yet, bitch."
She recoiled, and watching her, I could almost see venom in her eyes,
before I saw the submissiveness reappear. "Yes Master Jason. Of course
you are right. I am sorry." And then she shuddered. Just before she
began to muff dive, Steve handed her a Stolli's. She swigged it. I could
tell that she was terrified.
"Can I test drive the it," Steve said again. My eyes, darting, was
capturing every thing.
Viagra, yes. Hormones, yes, Hypnosis, yes. But not fuck wanting
degradation drugs. Not these confusing things that were roaming this Mad
House.
Jason reached over and sipped his beer. "Do it's corset, my friend, and
after the ladies are done with its shoes..." he smiled. "it."
"it," he said again. "hmm."
After it is finished, you can take it as fast as you want to go. We all
will, and then leave it in the park."
"it," he said once more. "Perverted sissy it."
He slapped me. "it?"
I held my head and said, "o"
The corset was wired and terrible. And complex. Steve fumbled for a
while after Jason unleased me from the chair. But after Jason showed him
the harness straps, he didn't drop it anymore.
It was leather. Black. Long. Twelve garters hung, all with buckles.
Fourteen gussets in front, and four on each side. The shoulder straps
were fat and thought they were now loose, I knew what they were for:
Shoulders back, tits out, out. I was pleased that the corset had a
little shelve, for now, standing, the wires were pulling my nipples and
I was in pain again.
"Janice will do the makeup for you."
Steve began to pull on the laces, mostly just threading them and
aligning them and tightening a bit. And then he began to pull.
Janice approached and began to put on make up on my mask, but Steve's
forceful tugs moved my head. "Hold it still!"
"Let me finish! whorebanks," Steve mumbled, and yanked again. My breath
shot out of me. Sluggy and cross and edgy; it was becoming clearer that
they were doing something
Very wrong
Wrong.
He yanked again, and then slowly, with effort to be sure, decided I
shouldn't breathe. Slowly the lace drew me in, and now, in the mirror, I
could see what I'd become. And after all the hell I'd been through, I
found myself actually liking what I saw, and still I wanted make up on.
On my mask.
Now I was breathing slowly. Sweat was beginning to run down my back,
under the latex, or through it. I could feel a puddle at the tips of my
ballets.
Now Janice leaned over and applied makeup. Lots. But on a latex mask you
don't use blush or shadow or lipstick. Not really. She used paint. And
painted my face, not quite clown, but close enough. Whorish. The rouge
was deep purple, the lips, those fake lips of mine, purple, the eyes
dark and evil looking.
Steve brought over a Lycra white tube skirt. "This is for you, slut."
He pulled it over my head, and drew it down. "White is for the fallen.
You felled."
It was translucent and you could see everything under. The nipple rings,
the corset, the chain, the necklace, the locks on the
boots...everything.
It went to my knees. It showed off my thigh ballets...
I hadn't any of the sluggo drink. And I was so so so uncomfortable, but
when Stevers lifted me to the mirror and showed me to me, I was so
terrified, and afraid, and I liked what I saw.
"hing hing"
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