m wisdom
The sun is rising
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Now this was really funny
- Thread starter Wizard
- Start date
TNRkitect2b
Sir Brian
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- 4,028
greenmands said:
Here is another one in a similar vein:
Baking cookies with your cat!
1. Look in cookbook for cookie recipe.
2. Get cup of coffee.
3. Get cat off of cookbook.
4. Find that special recipe.
5. Get cat's nose out of coffee mug.
6. Go to fridge and get eggs.
7. Get dry ingredients from cupboard.
8. Break eggs in small bowl.
9. Sift dry ingredients in large bowl.
10. Answer the phone.
11. Cat ate eggs; get more from fridge.
12. Get cat out of flour bowl and dust cat off.
13. Get Band-Aids for scratches on hands.
14. Throw flour out and get more.
15. Preheat oven for cookies.
16. Looking at cat &wanting to bake cat now.
*Cat runs for cover into bathroom.*
17. Flour the counter to roll out cookie dough.
18. Big crash in bathroom;
*run to see what happened.*
19. Cat has TP all over floor; stuff spilled and knocked over on top of bathroom counter.
20. Yell at cat. Cat falls in toilet bowl.
21. Can sense cat is angry.
22. Take cat out of toilet to dry cat off.
23. Get bandages to cover more scratches on arms and legs.
24. Cleanup bathroom.
25. Hear a thump in kitchen ... Oh Golly ... now what?
26. Get cat off floured counter in kitchen.
27. Try to pick out cat hairs from flour.
28. Step on cat's tail and get bitten.
29. Get coat, car keys, and go to store to buy cookies!!!
Avery_Chisholm
School Bus Slut!
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Wizard said:
link doesn't work
greenmands
Literotica Guru
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Thank you TNR for the cat & baking nightmares.
And now the ideal church school/camp for wayward children and subbies.
http://www.rossetta.com/970518.htm
And now the ideal church school/camp for wayward children and subbies.
http://www.rossetta.com/970518.htm
greenmands
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I got this from another website. Enjoy. 
SPEW ALERT.....SPEW ALERT.....SPEW ALERT......SPEW ALERT......................
I had a cousin named Ryan who lived with me for eight years. You may remember him from a previous post of mine. Before Ryan moved to DC for his post-secondary studies, he lived a year in north central Iowa. His dad was working with the Iowa Capital Investment Corporation, and as a result, he was forced to live down there.
He would always complain to me on how boring it was because his dad was always on business and his house was in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, so after pleading with my parents for days, they finally let me fly solo to visit him in the summer of '99.
One thing that everyone knows about Iowa is that it has a shit-load of farms and where Ryan lived was no exception. The city was one big farm. I immediately realized how boring this trip would really be. How wrong I was.
One afternoon Ryan and I left the house to go exploring. His television got really shitty reception so we figured it was time to explore the great outdoors that was north central Iowa.
As we walked past one of the many barns on that particular road, we saw a large man in overalls tending to a herd of cows. He had a cattle prod in his hand, and he was using it to get all the cows to go back into a small fielded area with a chain linked fence. He was having some trouble because there was like 30 cows. He looked up and saw us staring.
Man: hey you too. Ya mind givin me a hand?
Me and Ryan headed over and the man pulled out two more cattle prods out of the big front pocket of his overalls.
Man: use these. Name's Boswell. Pleasure makin ur acquaintance.
Me: yeah, you too.
With the help of three prods, Ryan, Boswell and I managed to guide the cows into the fenced area.
Boswell: you boys new around here?
Ryan: Yeah kinda. I just moved down there, and my cousin is just here on a visit.
Boswell: ah see. Not much to do around here.
Me: Yeah.
Boswell: y'all ever felt the sting of a cattle prod?
Me: what?
Boswell: when me and ma friends were youngins, we used to take a buncha cattle prods and have us a good ol' cattle prod fight. Stings like the devil but sure as shit guarantees you a good time when you're drunk as hell. How about it boys? I haven't cattle prodded since 1988.
Now readers please understand that this is a true testament to how bored we were. We were willing to cattle prod fight with some old farmer who we had known for a little over forty seconds.
Me: yeah sure.
A millisecond after the words left my mouth, Boswell jabbed, and cattle prodded me right in the stomach.
Here's another thing you have to understand. Cows weigh over 400lbs. When they getting prodded like that, it feels like a tickle, maybe a pinch at most. When a skinny ass Indian kid gets cattle prodded in his stomach, it leaves a big fucking welt.
He lunged at me again, but this time I ducked. He laughed heartily.
Boswell: stings, doesn't it boy? You two against me. Let's cattle prod.
Everyday after that, we went over to old Boswell's farm to cattle prod fight. After you got used to the welts, it got really fun. We would run around the whole farm trying to cattle prod Boswell anyway we could. Unfortunately, he was outstandingly agile and limber for such a large man. We got him here and there but he kept taking our asses to cattle prod school. Often, he would get really competitive.
"Come on you babies! Ma gramma cattle prods better than you sissies and she ain't got no legs!" he would say as he backed Ryan into a corner.
"Eat voltage old man!!" I would yell as I jumped off a hay stack and cattle prodded him in the back.
All in all it was a great week in Iowa.
On the last day of my visit, we went over to Boswell's farm for the final time. When we got there, we could immediately tell that he was drunk out of his mind.
Me: been drinking a few beers Boswell?
He hiccupped.
Boswell: only six, or seven, or fifteen I don't remember. You boys got time for one more fight?
Me: Sorry Boswell, I don't.
Boswell: well who the hell am I supposta prod fight with?
"I don't know, go fight a duck or something." I said laughing.
All of a sudden he got this really scary look on his face.
Boswell: thas a good idea boy. A real good idea. Imma fry me some duck!
Me: Boswell, I was only kidd...
He stumbled outside of the barn to where the ducks were. He had a murderous gleam in his eyes narrowed on the poor duck he wanted to cattle prod. He advanced on the mallard, and as if paralyzed with fear, the duck stood there, frozen.
I felt really bad for the duck. But we weren't about to stop a drunk as fuck farmer holding two cattle prods in his hands.
Boswell slowly lowered himself in front of the duck and got his prods ready. The duck still didn't move.
Boswell jabbed; the duck went straight for the fucking face.
With lightening fast reflexes that I did not know ducks possessed, the duck leaped off its skinny twig legs and attached itself to Boswell's mug.
I don't think that ducks have teeth; but they sure as hell have kung-fu grip with there beaks because what I saw was a 300lbs man, standing upright, with a fucking duck hanging off his nose.
Then, as if on cue, a bunch of the other ducks squawked over and started mercilessly pecking him on his legs. Boswell dropped the prods and went down like a Clinton intern.
After what seemed like ages, the duck finally let go of Boswell's nose, and he just lay there, struggling to breath, with what I assume was duck mucous dripping from his nostrils.
We took off before he could come to.
SPEW ALERT.....SPEW ALERT.....SPEW ALERT......SPEW ALERT......................
I had a cousin named Ryan who lived with me for eight years. You may remember him from a previous post of mine. Before Ryan moved to DC for his post-secondary studies, he lived a year in north central Iowa. His dad was working with the Iowa Capital Investment Corporation, and as a result, he was forced to live down there.
He would always complain to me on how boring it was because his dad was always on business and his house was in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, so after pleading with my parents for days, they finally let me fly solo to visit him in the summer of '99.
One thing that everyone knows about Iowa is that it has a shit-load of farms and where Ryan lived was no exception. The city was one big farm. I immediately realized how boring this trip would really be. How wrong I was.
One afternoon Ryan and I left the house to go exploring. His television got really shitty reception so we figured it was time to explore the great outdoors that was north central Iowa.
As we walked past one of the many barns on that particular road, we saw a large man in overalls tending to a herd of cows. He had a cattle prod in his hand, and he was using it to get all the cows to go back into a small fielded area with a chain linked fence. He was having some trouble because there was like 30 cows. He looked up and saw us staring.
Man: hey you too. Ya mind givin me a hand?
Me and Ryan headed over and the man pulled out two more cattle prods out of the big front pocket of his overalls.
Man: use these. Name's Boswell. Pleasure makin ur acquaintance.
Me: yeah, you too.
With the help of three prods, Ryan, Boswell and I managed to guide the cows into the fenced area.
Boswell: you boys new around here?
Ryan: Yeah kinda. I just moved down there, and my cousin is just here on a visit.
Boswell: ah see. Not much to do around here.
Me: Yeah.
Boswell: y'all ever felt the sting of a cattle prod?
Me: what?
Boswell: when me and ma friends were youngins, we used to take a buncha cattle prods and have us a good ol' cattle prod fight. Stings like the devil but sure as shit guarantees you a good time when you're drunk as hell. How about it boys? I haven't cattle prodded since 1988.
Now readers please understand that this is a true testament to how bored we were. We were willing to cattle prod fight with some old farmer who we had known for a little over forty seconds.
Me: yeah sure.
A millisecond after the words left my mouth, Boswell jabbed, and cattle prodded me right in the stomach.
Here's another thing you have to understand. Cows weigh over 400lbs. When they getting prodded like that, it feels like a tickle, maybe a pinch at most. When a skinny ass Indian kid gets cattle prodded in his stomach, it leaves a big fucking welt.
He lunged at me again, but this time I ducked. He laughed heartily.
Boswell: stings, doesn't it boy? You two against me. Let's cattle prod.
Everyday after that, we went over to old Boswell's farm to cattle prod fight. After you got used to the welts, it got really fun. We would run around the whole farm trying to cattle prod Boswell anyway we could. Unfortunately, he was outstandingly agile and limber for such a large man. We got him here and there but he kept taking our asses to cattle prod school. Often, he would get really competitive.
"Come on you babies! Ma gramma cattle prods better than you sissies and she ain't got no legs!" he would say as he backed Ryan into a corner.
"Eat voltage old man!!" I would yell as I jumped off a hay stack and cattle prodded him in the back.
All in all it was a great week in Iowa.
On the last day of my visit, we went over to Boswell's farm for the final time. When we got there, we could immediately tell that he was drunk out of his mind.
Me: been drinking a few beers Boswell?
He hiccupped.
Boswell: only six, or seven, or fifteen I don't remember. You boys got time for one more fight?
Me: Sorry Boswell, I don't.
Boswell: well who the hell am I supposta prod fight with?
"I don't know, go fight a duck or something." I said laughing.
All of a sudden he got this really scary look on his face.
Boswell: thas a good idea boy. A real good idea. Imma fry me some duck!
Me: Boswell, I was only kidd...
He stumbled outside of the barn to where the ducks were. He had a murderous gleam in his eyes narrowed on the poor duck he wanted to cattle prod. He advanced on the mallard, and as if paralyzed with fear, the duck stood there, frozen.
I felt really bad for the duck. But we weren't about to stop a drunk as fuck farmer holding two cattle prods in his hands.
Boswell slowly lowered himself in front of the duck and got his prods ready. The duck still didn't move.
Boswell jabbed; the duck went straight for the fucking face.
With lightening fast reflexes that I did not know ducks possessed, the duck leaped off its skinny twig legs and attached itself to Boswell's mug.
I don't think that ducks have teeth; but they sure as hell have kung-fu grip with there beaks because what I saw was a 300lbs man, standing upright, with a fucking duck hanging off his nose.
Then, as if on cue, a bunch of the other ducks squawked over and started mercilessly pecking him on his legs. Boswell dropped the prods and went down like a Clinton intern.
After what seemed like ages, the duck finally let go of Boswell's nose, and he just lay there, struggling to breath, with what I assume was duck mucous dripping from his nostrils.
We took off before he could come to.
graceanne
iteroticalay urugay
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- Jun 22, 2004
- Posts
- 27,585
A golfer is looking for his ball in the woods when he comes up to
another man hugging a tree with his ear firmly pressed against the tree.
Seeing this he inquires, "Just out of curiosity, what the hell are
you doing?" "I'm listening to the music of the tree."
"You gotta be kidding' me." "No, would you like to give it a try?"
"Well, OK..." So he wraps his arms around the tree and presses his
ear up against the tree. With this the other guy slaps a set of
handcuffs on him on the other side of the tree, takes his wallet,
jewelry, car keys, then strips him naked and leaves.
Two hours later another nature lover strolls by, sees this guy
handcuffed to the tree, stark naked, and asks, "What the hell
happened to you?" So he tells the guy the whole story about how he got there.
While he was telling his story, the other guy shakes his head in
sympathy, walks around behind him, kisses him behind the ear and
says........ "This just isn't gonna be your day."
another man hugging a tree with his ear firmly pressed against the tree.
Seeing this he inquires, "Just out of curiosity, what the hell are
you doing?" "I'm listening to the music of the tree."
"You gotta be kidding' me." "No, would you like to give it a try?"
"Well, OK..." So he wraps his arms around the tree and presses his
ear up against the tree. With this the other guy slaps a set of
handcuffs on him on the other side of the tree, takes his wallet,
jewelry, car keys, then strips him naked and leaves.
Two hours later another nature lover strolls by, sees this guy
handcuffed to the tree, stark naked, and asks, "What the hell
happened to you?" So he tells the guy the whole story about how he got there.
While he was telling his story, the other guy shakes his head in
sympathy, walks around behind him, kisses him behind the ear and
says........ "This just isn't gonna be your day."
greenmands
Literotica Guru
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- Nov 21, 2005
- Posts
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Very funny graceanne. Do you have anymore?
Do you have anymore?greenmands
Literotica Guru
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- Nov 21, 2005
- Posts
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Fantastic Graceanne. *LMAO*
shy slave
Literotica Guru
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- Jan 2, 2004
- Posts
- 8,255
Its a bit sick but made me laugh
Two men were night fishing at the side of the river.
One leans over to the other asks him if he wants some wedding cake.
First man "Oh, wow cake thanks, who got married?"
Second Man "I did, this morning"
First man "This morning! Shouldn't you be uh y'know, celebrating?"
Second man "Nah I prefer to be here, she has mouth ulcers, very nasty so there is no kissing anyway"
First man "But now your married, you could err fuck her"
Second man "Oh No, she has herpes and warts its a bit green and slimy down there, wouldn't want my dick to go near it"
First man "But Umm you could have her ass, at least get something on your wedding night"
Second man "Oh no, she has anal ulcers, they ooze, weep and smell quite alot, would not go near it with my dick"
First man "Umm Errr Don't mind me asking, but why did you marry her"
Second man *Reeling in another fish* "All those ulcers breed great maggots!"
Two men were night fishing at the side of the river.
One leans over to the other asks him if he wants some wedding cake.
First man "Oh, wow cake thanks, who got married?"
Second Man "I did, this morning"
First man "This morning! Shouldn't you be uh y'know, celebrating?"
Second man "Nah I prefer to be here, she has mouth ulcers, very nasty so there is no kissing anyway"
First man "But now your married, you could err fuck her"
Second man "Oh No, she has herpes and warts its a bit green and slimy down there, wouldn't want my dick to go near it"
First man "But Umm you could have her ass, at least get something on your wedding night"
Second man "Oh no, she has anal ulcers, they ooze, weep and smell quite alot, would not go near it with my dick"
First man "Umm Errr Don't mind me asking, but why did you marry her"
Second man *Reeling in another fish* "All those ulcers breed great maggots!"
greenmands
Literotica Guru
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- Nov 21, 2005
- Posts
- 1,719
Your right, that is sick.
greenmands
Literotica Guru
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- Nov 21, 2005
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I resemble that remark!shy slave said:
@}-}rebecca----
not enough discipline ...
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2005
- Posts
- 13,063
Master and slave, a Conversation
Master and slave, a Conversation
(anonymous)
Slave:
:::kneeling::: Oh Master!!!! You are the whole of my universe, the certainty of my existence. You are why my heart beats, my lungs fill, my toes curl. You shelter me like an offshore bank in the Reagan years. i grovel before you in awe of Your power, willing to satisfy You in every way...
Master:
:: peering over the paper::: Every way?
Slave:
:: pressing forehead to the floor and wiggling seductively::: Anything and everything is open to You oh Magnificent Maven of Mastery!! i beg, nay, beseech, nayer still, humbly crawl to kiss Your toes in the hopes You will use me...
Master:
The bank account?
Slave:
:::looking up from underneath her hair::: what?
Master:
Your bank account. You said everything was open to me, so I was thinking of that big account you have...
Slave:
:::coming up on all fours to stare::: Oh most wonderfulest of all Masters, surely you know that your ultimate control of me is so extensive that all I have is yours, but... BUT... You are so secure in the knowledge of my perfect and total enslavement that You would have no need to actually *have* an account number for this, Your most humble of servants.
Master:
No cash?
Slave:
:::dropping head back down to the floor::: As always, Master, Your understanding of my heart is perfection in and of itself. It is why i give You every atom of my being, even unto the subatomic level...
Master:
:::folding away the paper::: Then it's sex.
Slave:
:::raising and throwing her arms up in touchdown form::: YESYESYES.. Oh, Master of mine, You are truly the ultimate owner of my being!!!
Master:
oral sex.
Slave:
YESYESYESYES
Master:
You would like to give me oral sex.
Slave:
:::dropping arms to her sides to stare::: what?
Master:
Well, I thought that this time instead of me... you know... I might command you...
Slave:
:::gritting teeth::: MASTER.... errr Master, Your memory being so much better and stronger than that of Your lowly slave, i *know* You recall how You show Your ultimate Mastery by satis... er... torturing Your property for hours on end. You recall how i shriek at Your touch? How i squirm in agony trying to escape?
Master:
Well, yes... there is a lot of squirming...
Slave:
:::leaping to her feet and jumping up and down::: Oh Master!! You punish Your slave to help her better serve You in the perfection of Your regard!! :::running into the bedroom, voice fading into the distance::: Let Your lowly slave suffer soon, Master!!
Master:
:::sighing deeply, turning off the TV and following his slave into the bedroom:::
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Slave:
:::Lying back on the bed, one arm behind her head, legs crossed, slowly blowing smoke rings::: Oh Master, You are surely showing this one how to behave tonight.
Master:
:::lying on his back, chest heaving, sweaty hair matted to his head::: uhhh... uhhhh
Slave:
:::sighing and stretching::: This lowly slave is so happy she learned on the web that everyone has their own unique way to share in the wondrous world of D and s...
Master:
uhhhhnn.. uhhh
Slave:
...and is so happy that her Master is so cruel and demanding and that she can offer herself totally to Him each and every day!
Master:
UHHH... uhhhh
Slave:
And Master?
Master:
uhh?
Slave:
:::looking deeply into His eyes, lower lip trembling::: It makes Your slave tremble in fear and longing to know that soon You will once again train Your slave to perfect obedience by denying her the pleasure of cooking dinner...
Master:
:::sighing::: uhhhhhhhhhhhnn
Master and slave, a Conversation
(anonymous)
Slave:
:::kneeling::: Oh Master!!!! You are the whole of my universe, the certainty of my existence. You are why my heart beats, my lungs fill, my toes curl. You shelter me like an offshore bank in the Reagan years. i grovel before you in awe of Your power, willing to satisfy You in every way...
Master:
:: peering over the paper::: Every way?
Slave:
:: pressing forehead to the floor and wiggling seductively::: Anything and everything is open to You oh Magnificent Maven of Mastery!! i beg, nay, beseech, nayer still, humbly crawl to kiss Your toes in the hopes You will use me...
Master:
The bank account?
Slave:
:::looking up from underneath her hair::: what?
Master:
Your bank account. You said everything was open to me, so I was thinking of that big account you have...
Slave:
:::coming up on all fours to stare::: Oh most wonderfulest of all Masters, surely you know that your ultimate control of me is so extensive that all I have is yours, but... BUT... You are so secure in the knowledge of my perfect and total enslavement that You would have no need to actually *have* an account number for this, Your most humble of servants.
Master:
No cash?
Slave:
:::dropping head back down to the floor::: As always, Master, Your understanding of my heart is perfection in and of itself. It is why i give You every atom of my being, even unto the subatomic level...
Master:
:::folding away the paper::: Then it's sex.
Slave:
:::raising and throwing her arms up in touchdown form::: YESYESYES.. Oh, Master of mine, You are truly the ultimate owner of my being!!!
Master:
oral sex.
Slave:
YESYESYESYES
Master:
You would like to give me oral sex.
Slave:
:::dropping arms to her sides to stare::: what?
Master:
Well, I thought that this time instead of me... you know... I might command you...
Slave:
:::gritting teeth::: MASTER.... errr Master, Your memory being so much better and stronger than that of Your lowly slave, i *know* You recall how You show Your ultimate Mastery by satis... er... torturing Your property for hours on end. You recall how i shriek at Your touch? How i squirm in agony trying to escape?
Master:
Well, yes... there is a lot of squirming...
Slave:
:::leaping to her feet and jumping up and down::: Oh Master!! You punish Your slave to help her better serve You in the perfection of Your regard!! :::running into the bedroom, voice fading into the distance::: Let Your lowly slave suffer soon, Master!!
Master:
:::sighing deeply, turning off the TV and following his slave into the bedroom:::
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Slave:
:::Lying back on the bed, one arm behind her head, legs crossed, slowly blowing smoke rings::: Oh Master, You are surely showing this one how to behave tonight.
Master:
:::lying on his back, chest heaving, sweaty hair matted to his head::: uhhh... uhhhh
Slave:
:::sighing and stretching::: This lowly slave is so happy she learned on the web that everyone has their own unique way to share in the wondrous world of D and s...
Master:
uhhhhnn.. uhhh
Slave:
...and is so happy that her Master is so cruel and demanding and that she can offer herself totally to Him each and every day!
Master:
UHHH... uhhhh
Slave:
And Master?
Master:
uhh?
Slave:
:::looking deeply into His eyes, lower lip trembling::: It makes Your slave tremble in fear and longing to know that soon You will once again train Your slave to perfect obedience by denying her the pleasure of cooking dinner...
Master:
:::sighing::: uhhhhhhhhhhhnn
@}-}rebecca----
not enough discipline ...
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2005
- Posts
- 13,063
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
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
@}-}rebecca----
not enough discipline ...
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2005
- Posts
- 13,063
Gor Novels We'd Like To See
Gor Novels We'd Like To See
Gor Novels We Wanna See....
We've already seen "Houseplants of Gor," and the early days of science fiction conventions spawned "Free Amazons of Gor," a theoretical collaboration between Marion Zimmer Bradley and John Norman. Here, in order, are the top ten Gor novels fans want to see next.
10. Gor #47, Sardine Fisheries of Gor - In the dark and dangerous city of Port Kar, trouble is brewing in the mighty Thalassa. Its sardines, so crucial to the survival of the city's economy, are rebelling in their schools, until they are taught by true Gorean warriors that their destiny is to submit utterly to their destiny of service in the paga taverns and dinner tables of Port Kar.
9. Gor #59, Hairdressers of Gor - The Pink Triangle, a hair salon in the great city of Ar founded by disgruntled expatriates from Earth who were kidnapped from San Francisco by Gorean slavers, is in trouble. Too, they cannot pay their rent, and are to be evicted from their building unless Dorto the Hairdresser can convince mighty Gorean warriors that they, too, would be more appealing to slaves with good haircuts.
8. Gor #60, Cosmetologists of Gor - A sequel to Hairdressers of Gor, this is the thrilling saga of Dorto's successful franchise school in Brundisium, and the portentous events which, too, happen there.
7. Gor #61, Drag Queens of Gor - The final, thrilling conclusion of the trilogy begun by Hairdressers of Gor. In it, the even the mighty Tarl Cabot finds himself helpless to stand against a virtual army of junior cosmetologists dressed in well printed silk robes as they bitch-slap, pinch and embarrass him nearly to death. Too, he decrees finally that the Priest-Kings should heretofore forbid all Gorean slavers to raid anywhere near the Castro District on Earth to avoid any further such incidents.
6. Gor #236, Fast Food Franchises of Gor - While Gorean slave raiders have been studying Earth, unknown to the mighty Priest-Kings, the sly, cunning, stealthful, secretive corporate raiders of Earth have been doing intensive marketing surveys of Gor. Too, they have determined that the Earth hamburger, french fries and soft drink would be well received by Gorean warriors. A mighty war follows, as great golden arches are erected outside of Ar, and Marlenus, Ubar of the city, is not pleased. Finally, after secret agreements and much gold exchanged with the Council of Captains in Port Kar, the golden symbol is carved into the Home Stone there, and the Fast Food Franchises of Gor find their final destiny.
5. Gor #237, Cost Accountants of Gor - The sequel to the thrilling saga, Fast Food Franchises of Gor, is the story of the adventures of Barton, a Gorean warrior who learns the ways of corporate headhunting and strategy. Unfortunately, he is not told until too late by the Earth people who employ him and his fellow Gorean warriors that "corporate headhunting" is, on Earth, a metaphor.
4. Gor #123, Freudians of Gor - A group of scientists from Earth relentlessly corners Gorean warriors and psychoanalyzes them, until they are discovered and enslaved in the mines of the Salt Ubar. Once there, the survivors foment a rebellion for the right to publish their findings. Unfortunately, their leader insults the Salt Ubar in a dispute over swords actually being compensatory phallic symbols, and they are all staked out to die beneath the merciless desert sun.
3. Gor #159, Scientologists of Gor - A copy of a secret Earth publication is transported to Gor, with shocking results. Too, the Priest-Kings are not pleased to discover that the Earthers have been aware of them all along, nor that they are being referred to as "Thetans."
2. Gor #112, Stablehands of Gor - Throughout the Gor novels, much attention is paid to the Gorean warriors and their nubile slave girls having mighty adventures, and little to the characters that are actually necessary in the background for these adventures to run smoothly. In this exciting beginning of a new mini-series that will include Sanitation Engineers of Gor and Interior Decorators of Gor, Tarl Cabot finally looks up at a flying tarn and gets an eyeful.
And now, the number one requested sequel to the Gorean novels........
1. Gor #50, Free Clinics of Gor - In which Tarl Cabot and all of the other major characters in this series finally see a doctor about that embarrassing itch, and realize that swords, treasures and slave girls aren't the only thing they've picked up on Gor.
Gor Novels We'd Like To See
Gor Novels We Wanna See....
We've already seen "Houseplants of Gor," and the early days of science fiction conventions spawned "Free Amazons of Gor," a theoretical collaboration between Marion Zimmer Bradley and John Norman. Here, in order, are the top ten Gor novels fans want to see next.
10. Gor #47, Sardine Fisheries of Gor - In the dark and dangerous city of Port Kar, trouble is brewing in the mighty Thalassa. Its sardines, so crucial to the survival of the city's economy, are rebelling in their schools, until they are taught by true Gorean warriors that their destiny is to submit utterly to their destiny of service in the paga taverns and dinner tables of Port Kar.
9. Gor #59, Hairdressers of Gor - The Pink Triangle, a hair salon in the great city of Ar founded by disgruntled expatriates from Earth who were kidnapped from San Francisco by Gorean slavers, is in trouble. Too, they cannot pay their rent, and are to be evicted from their building unless Dorto the Hairdresser can convince mighty Gorean warriors that they, too, would be more appealing to slaves with good haircuts.
8. Gor #60, Cosmetologists of Gor - A sequel to Hairdressers of Gor, this is the thrilling saga of Dorto's successful franchise school in Brundisium, and the portentous events which, too, happen there.
7. Gor #61, Drag Queens of Gor - The final, thrilling conclusion of the trilogy begun by Hairdressers of Gor. In it, the even the mighty Tarl Cabot finds himself helpless to stand against a virtual army of junior cosmetologists dressed in well printed silk robes as they bitch-slap, pinch and embarrass him nearly to death. Too, he decrees finally that the Priest-Kings should heretofore forbid all Gorean slavers to raid anywhere near the Castro District on Earth to avoid any further such incidents.
6. Gor #236, Fast Food Franchises of Gor - While Gorean slave raiders have been studying Earth, unknown to the mighty Priest-Kings, the sly, cunning, stealthful, secretive corporate raiders of Earth have been doing intensive marketing surveys of Gor. Too, they have determined that the Earth hamburger, french fries and soft drink would be well received by Gorean warriors. A mighty war follows, as great golden arches are erected outside of Ar, and Marlenus, Ubar of the city, is not pleased. Finally, after secret agreements and much gold exchanged with the Council of Captains in Port Kar, the golden symbol is carved into the Home Stone there, and the Fast Food Franchises of Gor find their final destiny.
5. Gor #237, Cost Accountants of Gor - The sequel to the thrilling saga, Fast Food Franchises of Gor, is the story of the adventures of Barton, a Gorean warrior who learns the ways of corporate headhunting and strategy. Unfortunately, he is not told until too late by the Earth people who employ him and his fellow Gorean warriors that "corporate headhunting" is, on Earth, a metaphor.
4. Gor #123, Freudians of Gor - A group of scientists from Earth relentlessly corners Gorean warriors and psychoanalyzes them, until they are discovered and enslaved in the mines of the Salt Ubar. Once there, the survivors foment a rebellion for the right to publish their findings. Unfortunately, their leader insults the Salt Ubar in a dispute over swords actually being compensatory phallic symbols, and they are all staked out to die beneath the merciless desert sun.
3. Gor #159, Scientologists of Gor - A copy of a secret Earth publication is transported to Gor, with shocking results. Too, the Priest-Kings are not pleased to discover that the Earthers have been aware of them all along, nor that they are being referred to as "Thetans."
2. Gor #112, Stablehands of Gor - Throughout the Gor novels, much attention is paid to the Gorean warriors and their nubile slave girls having mighty adventures, and little to the characters that are actually necessary in the background for these adventures to run smoothly. In this exciting beginning of a new mini-series that will include Sanitation Engineers of Gor and Interior Decorators of Gor, Tarl Cabot finally looks up at a flying tarn and gets an eyeful.
And now, the number one requested sequel to the Gorean novels........
1. Gor #50, Free Clinics of Gor - In which Tarl Cabot and all of the other major characters in this series finally see a doctor about that embarrassing itch, and realize that swords, treasures and slave girls aren't the only thing they've picked up on Gor.
AngelicAssassin
Something Wicked
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2001
- Posts
- 10,945
snowy ciara
Nerdalicious!
- Joined
- Jul 26, 2004
- Posts
- 6,403
Not for the easily offended. Who wants to play Lois?
@}-}rebecca----
not enough discipline ...
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2005
- Posts
- 13,063
snowy ciara said:
Laughs .....hello miss snowy ......hugs........Happy New Year
ohhhh viewed that........my questions is ......Don't all submissives and slaves (or pyl yada yada ) want to play Lois ? ..............omg .......I am in such an evil (cheeky brat) mood today !!!
.......oh well ......go with the flow I say...........
@}-}rebecca----
not enough discipline ...
- Joined
- Oct 31, 2005
- Posts
- 13,063
oh myyyyyyyyyyyyyy
Ummnnn .....miss shy slave have you met my buddy Major Disclaimer ?
You see he has been a solid friend for a few years. Reason being I have a Website Group Thingy called 'Brat Frat' (the Home of the submissives Union),good old Brat Frat has a few hundred members and is a site dedicated to humor surrounding BDSM and Ds Lifestyles etc. There is some very risque 'stuff' available at the site and I lifted a few of the older posts last night with the assistence of the Major because I was feeling light hearted and wished to share a few here on the FB. Guess it must be a New Years Eve Curse I am suffering from please !!! feel free to quote me in saying 'rebecca while at times an obvious brat does not encourage topping from the bottom or what ever'........laughs..............any way Happy New Year to you and your Master .
kind regards
miss @}-}rebecca----
shy slave said:Thanks Rebecca I have learnt so much in abouit how to be a slave from this post.
Dom/Mes all over the world will love you for helping their slaves along the path of perfection.
Ummnnn .....miss shy slave have you met my buddy Major Disclaimer ?
You see he has been a solid friend for a few years. Reason being I have a Website Group Thingy called 'Brat Frat' (the Home of the submissives Union),good old Brat Frat has a few hundred members and is a site dedicated to humor surrounding BDSM and Ds Lifestyles etc. There is some very risque 'stuff' available at the site and I lifted a few of the older posts last night with the assistence of the Major because I was feeling light hearted and wished to share a few here on the FB. Guess it must be a New Years Eve Curse I am suffering from please !!! feel free to quote me in saying 'rebecca while at times an obvious brat does not encourage topping from the bottom or what ever'........laughs..............any way Happy New Year to you and your Master .
kind regards
miss @}-}rebecca----
greenmands
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2005
- Posts
- 1,719
rebecca, you are so naughty. You should be spanked. (the line forms to the left)
