Wizdomme Pages | D/s and BDSM Humor

Home for the Holidays
by Mr. missy

I sat in the limousine, in front of the Mansion, trembling with fear and anticipation.

"You get out of cab now," said Master Rabud.

I tell Master Rabud that I fear what will happen to me inside of the Mansion.

He says "Fucking weirdo, you get out of cab now." I stop to admire Rabud, the Persian Slave Master. Though I had only served him a very short while, the bond between Master and slave was already strong.

"But Master Rabud, what will they do to me in the Mansion?" I ask, fearful still.

"Put under pants back on and get out of cab," he says, a fire burning in his eyes. Reluctantly, I yield to his iron will, and exit the cab. I ready myself for the indoctrination.

I ring the bell, and with great trepidation hear footfalls approach from inside. The door creaks slowly open, and I am greeted by the grim visage of Master Dad.

"Shit, Melvin, can't you take off those goddam faggot clothes for Christmas? You know how it upsets your Mother," Master Dad says seductively.

I obey him and start removing my pretty little slut clothes and say, "I am slave missy, your servant."

"No, you're my completely dysfunctional son, Melvin. Stop taking off those ridiculous clothes on the front porch of my house and get in here before the neighbors see you," he says with authority. I crumble under his glare. I enter the Mansion.

"Doris, Melvin is here. And guess what, the sick little bastard is wearing a pink dress," Master Dad yells to alert Mistress Mom of my arrival.

Mistress Mom enters the room, and I kneel before her. "I am here to serve you Mistress," I say, my eyes down in humble submission.

"Get off the floor, Melvin, and stop calling me Mistress," she commands. She looks at Master Dad and asks, "Where did we go wrong?"

"Am I to be punished?" I ask.

"You are to be confined in an asylum if you don't stop acting like a goddam pervert," Master Dad says menacingly.

"Am I to receive a punishment enema?" I ask.

"You are to receive a lobotomy."

I survey the foyer of the Mansion and notice that new carpet has been installed. Mistress Mom, who has a supernatural ability to read my mind, says "Don't you dare do what you did to my carpet the last time you were home. As you can see, we had to replace it." My Master and Mistress had a rather strong reaction to self imposed toilet training during my last visit to the Mansion.

I ask if Mistress Sister, and her husband, Master Bill, have arrived yet. Mistress Mom says, "Please stop calling everyone Mistress and Master. Your sister and brother-in-law will be here shortly."

"Bill said he was going to beat the living shit out of you if you try to touch him or your sister again. You better be on your best behavior," Master Dad said.

Master Bill is certainly a stern and cruel dominant. I shiver at the thought what he will do to me.

"Melvin, go change into normal clothes, and take a shower, you smell just awful," Mistress Mom orders.

"Will my Mistress supervise my cleansing?"

Both Mistress Mom and Master Dad walk out of the foyer, shaking their heads. Clearly, an awful fate awaited me.

I could hear Master Dad speaking, "Look Doris, we have got to do something. He is a threat to himself and others. If we don't have him committed, someone might kill him."

I was eavesdropping on my Masters and Mistresses. If they caught me, I knew the punishment would be severe. Already Master Bill, the cruelest of the cruel, had punched me.

"If that rotten little faggot touches my dick again, I'm going to kill him," Master Bill said ominously.

"Bill," said Mistress Sister, "please don't talk that way. He is my brother." Mistress Sister was a loving, but stern, dominant.

"Shit, Brenda, your brother calls himself missy, calls you mistress, wears a three dollar wig, puts on pancake makeup over beard stubble, and wears a pink dress which has absorbed every possible corruption," Master Bill replied.

Mistress Mom agreed, "He does need help. I keep hoping that he will get better. But he never does. Your father had to install dead bolt locks on the bathroom doors this afternoon, because he kept on breaking in on whoever was using it screaming about golden baths."

"Golden showers, Mom," Mistress Sister corrected. Just hearing her say those words made my little slut pussy wet.

I slipped off to the Mansion's kitchen with sodomy on my mind. Once there I found the ideal object of debauchery.

"Melvin, how could you!" Mistress Mom demanded. Mistress Sister was with her. I knew my punishment would be severe. I dropped to my knees, with the turkey drumstick still embedded in my hot little slut pussy. "Please have mercy on me, Mistress. I couldn't help it." Mistress Sister ran screaming through the house.

"Christmas dinner is ruined, Melvin. I want you out of my house right now," Mistress Mom said sternly.

As I walked through the streets, in despair over my expulsion from the Mansion, a car pulled up beside me, and I got in.

"Where to, lady?" asked the driver, turning toward me, "Aaagh, motherfucker, don't you try nothing funny with me." Master Tyrone, a Nubian, took command of my destiny, and said, "You pay in advance, you fucking sissy." My training had begun. Now, where did I put my little slut purse?