Chapter 1

Author’s Note: This is an excerpt from Karen McGifford’s (AKA Honey) description of a typical day to Master Philbert. This story is set three months after Karen and Mike have the big pow-wow with their family about their BDSM/kinky lifestyle and start living it 24/7. You may want to read Mike McGifford’s “The Dream” first in order to understand the background of the characters. This is a fan-fiction (with the author’s permission) of how things have progressed after that story closes. These characters were originally featured as an homage to the author in one of my stories (HOA: Big Day in Sunny Manner), which is set several years after the events in these stories. I suppose you could say this is a fanfiction account based on Mike’s fan fiction origin story of the characters I wrote in the original story. Philbert is an old high school admirer of Karen that they met at her High School reunion. Philbert been an inspiration to her husband. He has also been a test of Karen’s willingness to submit because he frequently creeps her the fuck out with his obsessive interest in her life.

Dearest Master Philbert,

I apologize in advance for the formal nature of my speech in my writing. My discipline training covers speech protocol and I am not allowed to be sarcastic. It may come across a little strange in written form. It definitely feels different for me to talk this way all of the time at home now that my family knows about my choice to submit to my husband.

I can joke around at appropriate times but in high protocol such as communication with you then I must be serious. I must also be explicit in all of my speech. I am also not permitted to leave out details or use euphemisms. It is helpful to make me say the vulgar description of my actions and thoughts out loud and write them for anyone to read my confessions. I am also encouraged to explain why I do something if I am asked what I am doing. I apologize in advance if any of my speech comes off as stilted or seems patronizing. I am being trained to use the tone of my voice to be less patronizing but my writing may still come off that way at times. If it does or I fail in anyway in my communication with you please report me to my Master for correction.

You instructed me to write out a detailed “day in the life” example of a typical day now that I have begun my training full time. I hope this account of a typical Wednesday in our house pleases and amuses you. My daughter is supervising me as I write it out on the keyboard. She is checking it for accuracy and correcting my grammatical and spelling mistakes as I type. I am as always only permitted to use my nose to type on the keyboard as I must grip my ass cheeks and hold them apart. She wants me to tell you that you “creep her the hell out.” I am sorry if that is offensive to you. Those are her words and not my own.

It has been three months since we had our meeting with the kids to reveal my new house rules. A few of the rules have evolved since they were first discussed. I appreciate the feedback you gave my husband to make them as strict as possible from the very beginning. If we had done this as a half-measure it would have been a very different and possibly more confusing experience for everyone. There are still limits and boundaries but they are very livable. It has taken some adjustment but none of the family has openly objected or freaked out. I know most of my kids probably think this is just a phase for me and I’ll give it up soon.

The first time I told my husband about my perverted dreams of submission, I had no idea how he would react. I was pleasantly surprised that he was receptive to them. I did not believe him at first when he said he wanted to make my dreams a reality. I thought it was a romantic gesture but that my obligations and reality would prevent me from ever living full time as a house slave and submitting to him.

As you know, after the High school reunion, my husband (owner) and I mutually came to the conclusion that I was to become a full-time slave. I voluntary agreed to this change but I had my reservations. The biggest concern I have always had was how this would be perceived by my family. It seemed surreal when we discussed the rules. They turned me on as fantasy, but I could not picture them becoming a reality. I still find myself believing that at any moment, I will wake up and discover this was also a dream.

I won’t say it has been easy. I have had several challenging trials where I wanted to quit. I can honestly say that would please my daughter to no end if I did because it would prove her prediction about me correct. It seems like when she starts to ridicule me at the moment I want to give up on our dream, it actually helps strengthen my resolve to stick with my commitments. She is reading what I wrote and told me that I was quite welcome, and she is more than happy to ridicule me anytime I need it. It hasn’t been all bad – I can laugh at myself almost as much as my family does.

I want to thank you for all of the time you spent helping my husband elaborate and construct a disciplinary system for me. I thought my new rules might be too strict and intense to reveal to our kids at first. We went through the demonstrations one at a time and explained not only what the rule was but why it was put in place. We also covered what they could or could not do and the standard operating procedures for me as a pet. I cook, clean, and generally try to make their lives better in any possible way in exchange for their patience and hopefully, acceptance of my change of status in the household. I am still biologically the mother but I no longer have any claim to parental authority. I admit the feeling of surrendering my authority is strangely liberating and also shockingly humiliating at the same time.

I can’t speak for them, but I believe that Mister Joe, Miss Claire, and Mister Kyle all have fully accepted my transformation from Karen to Honey. I know it sounds wordy when I address them that way but the rule is that I must never consider myself on a first name with them. They are my betters in the household from now on. I believe it was you who suggested Master insist on that rule and I am growing used to it but frequently forget.

My family now know why I voluntarily relinquished my parental authority over them. We had the family meeting where we discussed why I chose to submit openly and what would be different around the house even a few weeks ago.

The rules for how I behave openly in front of my family and any guests continue to be adjusted and I am surprised how quickly they accepted my choice and now see my constant nudity as fairly normal around the house. My husband tweaks the rules more than he tweaks my nipples!

It makes no sense for me to expect them to answer to me if I don’t get to make decisions over myself any longer. I will tell you about a typical Wednesday in the house from the moment I wake up until I am put away at night. I believe in the process, you will be able to determine if my discipline is sufficient or if adjustments need to be made. My Owner (Master Mike) has told me that I will be sent to you for a week of evaluation in a few months, and he wants me to improve in several areas before that happens.

Wednesdays are “Hump Days” for me. It has a special meaning in our household because typically that is when my Owner delivers me to be featured at a gang bang. I am usually the only woman present, and there are several steps we do to prepare for that which are different than some other nights. Miss Claire has instructed me to write an example of a second day for comparison, and I will obey her order and include a Saturday in what I am sending you. I hope that my account of my typical day amuses and pleases you. I know you still hold a grudge over how I used to ignore you in High School when we were students. I believe that in some small way that even though it was my choice to be submissive that the discipline and pain I receive is often karma’s payback for the terribly selfish and vain ways I’ve treated people who were interested in getting to know me. I am learning how to be more open with sharing myself including my time, attention and body. I used to be stingy with offering my approval and made people live up to impossible standards that I would not hold myself to. I think a lot about why you enjoy my humiliation and this may sound strange but I am grateful to give you the opportunity to watch me undergo a transformation from Karen to Honey – it feels like justice being served.

Miss Claire has ordered me immediately pull my ass-cheeks wider and start describing last Wednesday morning for you. This is a typical school day now that my training has been revealed to my family like any other. I was under no special restrictions or punishments other than my usual ones.

Approximately 6:15 A.M.

I used to be the one in the family that woke everyone up in the morning and got them going. I was always loud and abrasive because no one responded to gentle reminders to wake up. I am no longer permitted to behave that way.

I am kept in my dog cage in the living room. Master moved it out to the living room a few weeks ago because he was tired of being the one to wake me up. Everyone knew I was caged, and they were invited to come visit me in the closet. It just made more sense to place it in a centralized location in the house so that I can be let out to fix the kids a snack or handle any chores that need to be completed without interrupting Master in his (formerly our) bedroom.

The cage measures 42L x 28W x 30H. It is suitable for large dog breeds and sluts like me. I can’t lay out flat. I am usually bound so that I cannot masturbate if I get bored. I had been bound with rope as I always am at night after servicing my husband in the bedroom. I was facing down on my knees with my wrists high and tight behind my back for the night. It has taken a lot of effort to get used to sleeping in this position, but I am growing used to it. My legs are parted so that my cunt and asshole are on display. I am usually gagged with my red number three dildo. It is shaped like a man’s cock and balls. It is strapped to my head with a leather belt but it doesn’t choke me very much or cut off my airflow as long as I remember to breathe through my nose.

This is to ensure I am not tempted to speak and annoy anyone. I wore a blindfold so that I cannot see and that blocks the light in case the kids stay up late and want to watch TV while I am kept in the cage. I believe it was your idea that I be denied the ability to see so that I don’t take it for granted. The sensory deprivation makes me appreciate times when I am permitted to watch TV with the rest of the family. I agree very much with the decision to keep me blindfolded. Mister Kyle and Miss Claire frequently like to blind fold me around the house and watch me stumble around like a silly slut.

I am not permitted to watch TV without permission, and the cage is always faced away from the television so that I am never tempted to try to look at it. I do enjoy listening to TV shows that I used to enjoy, like the Bachelor and Jimmy Fallon’s Tonight Show.

In the morning, Mister Kyle turns my butt plug like he is entering the combination to his locker at school. He twists it 45 degrees to the left, 90 degrees to the right and then about 10 degrees to the left before popping it out of my asshole. There is usually a delicate pop and a whooshing sound followed by his boyish giggles. He is very gentle and rarely if ever plays with the plug for long.

Once he removes the plug he inserts a funnel gingerly into my unlubricated asshole. I smiled because I know exactly who it is that is waking me without being able to see them. Crushed ice cubes are poured into the funnel, and I hear my youngest Son Mister Kyle giggling over my predicament. Mister Kyle usually wakes me up like this but he is growing increasingly curious and less shy about playing with my butt. He used to order me to shake my cheeks apart for him but now he has no problem grabbing them and pulling them apart nice and wide himself. It can seem raunchy and humiliating but I’d rather he not be afraid to touch me. Mister Kyle is going to see me do it anyway whether he touches me or not.

I murmured myself awake and groaned. I have to admit that sleeping gagged has done wonders for my sleep apnea. I don’t think I snore any more. That was an unexpected side effect. I was sore and stiff from being bound up all night though.

“Sorry, mom,” he giggled. I know to him this is a game, and he is trying to be helpful with my training. He isn’t doing this to be mean to me. I shivered when the moisture touched the rim of my asshole. Mister Kyle always laughs hardest when he sees my ribs start to heave a little. I was mortified the first time he did this to me. I felt we had crossed a grey line with things mothers shouldn’t permit their sons to do to them. I wanted to quit serving, and Kyle didn’t understand what he had done wrong. My owner spoke to Mister Kyle for a while in private. I don’t know what he said to Mister Kyle, but I was whipped and made to apologize to Mr. Kyle for making him feel embarrassed about helping me with my training.

I came to realize that I would rather Mister Kyle appreciate and embrace my decision to serve. I never wanted him to feel guilty about any hardship that he sees me endure. It took me a little while to get my head around the idea that Mr. Kyle might make me want to endure a hardship. The way it was explained to our kids is that I need this discipline, and he is helping me stay in the proper mindset to submit. They have all dealt with that information in their own way. Mister Kyle was always a momma’s boy and my little helper. Our roles have changed a little now around the house, but he is still focused on helping me become the best slave I can be.

Mister Kyle has the key to the padlock on my cage. Master had talked about setting up an automatic timer but decided against it because he couldn’t be sure there would be someone awake to supervise me when it went off. He unlocked it, and I shimmied out to greet him with my arms still bound behind me on my wobbling knees. I wiggled my big butt like an eager puppy dog while clenching the plastic funnel he stuck up my ass.

Mister Kyle unstrapped the dildo-gag from my mouth. As he removed it I could see it was covered in my slobber. It amuses him to see my spit dribbles dripping down my chin onto my tits. I think I look ridiculous like that but I smiled and winked at him playfully. I shook my head a little so that the spit rolled down my boobs in between my cleavage or on my nipples for his amusement.

I held my mouth open wide because I knew he will insert my dirty butt plug into my mouth for me to clean. He doesn’t usually look at it. He still looks surprised every time I slurp my butt plug or any of my sex toys and clean them with my mouth. I have to admit I still feel a fresh wave of humiliation run down my spine about what I am doing around the house even though it has been a regular activity in our home now.

“There is my puppy!” Mr. Kyle smirked as he bent down and patted my head like I was a prized family pet. I smiled at him approvingly like the good slut I am being trained to be.

“Good morning Mister Kyle, thank you for letting me out of my cage,” I said as my teeth chattered. The ice from the funnel was chilling me to the bone as it melted into my asshole.

I am expected to show gratitude at all times for punishments and acts of kindness. I used to be pretty stingy with my gratitude for little things like this. I was genuinely happy to see my son this morning. Mister Kyle was happy to see me too!

“Greet me like a puppy!” Mr. Kyle laughed. My son is supposed to give me the order “Puppy Mode” at home. His father lets him train me like a puppy a few hours a day. They worked out the rules and I have to admit I am still learning them just like Mister Kyle.

I sit up, beg, bark, and act like a playful puppy for him. I am not permitted to talk or act like a person at all during puppy mode unless there is an emergency or my owner needs me.

“Ruff!!!” I barked playfully. It is not my place to remind Mr. Kyle about little details of my training protocol. His father and Master Joe are working with him to take his role as a ‘puppy trainer’ more seriously.

My eldest son Master Joe has been promoted to the title Master. I am still hesitant to use it at school. I am supposed to say it there but I think Master Joe is afraid his friends will hear it too. He doesn’t insist I address him by name when I see him at school. I do have to make eye contact and smile or I will earn a well-deserved punishment. I have to do that with everyone I interact with but most of all my family. They should be the easiest ones for me to look at directly but I often find they are the most difficult.

Master Joe doesn’t have as much authority over me as you or my owner (Master Mike). Master Joe is in charge when my owner is not at home, though. This is more for my protection than anything else because I think between Miss Claire and Mister Kyle they would probably not be able to agree how to share me. Master Joe is the one who settles all their petty disputes when my husband is not home. They still argue like any normal family about sharing bathrooms or lack of privacy. They just no longer have to do any household chores and have to put up with a naked bimbo crawling around the house in exchange!

Master Joe has been very judicious about his new authority over me. He appreciates being able to drive the Rav/4 that used to belong to me. My owner also gives him much more freedom to stay out late. I was tempted to ask Mister Kyle if I could wake up the rest of the family so they wouldn’t be late. I don’t have authority to make that decision on my own, but I can’t help the old habit of being the one who tries to get everyone up in the morning.

My daughter Miss Claire needs the most time to put on her makeup and straighten her hair in the morning. I knew she would wait until the very last minute and then try to convince her father to let her stay home. Miss Claire hates to go to school without her makeup and hair done, but she won’t get up in time in the mornings. It was always a battle of wills between us in the morning. I can’t explain anymore about this because Miss Claire has explicitly ordered me to stop talking about her inability to get ready on time in the morning.

Miss Claire is spanking my butt with a ruler while I type this now. She wants me to focus on finishing MY story and not tell on her. I apologize to you both. She is not permitting me to erase what I’ve written about her morning routine. It is not my place to be critical of my children or anyone but myself. My owner initially only let Master Joe use the ruler on my body. However, over time it has become an unspoken rule that anyone can hit me ten times with a ruler anywhere on my body except my face or neck if I deserve it. It is done so frequently around the house that no one seems to think it is that big of a deal. My butt cheeks always have a nice rosy glow.

Mister Kyle uses a red sharpie every morning to write ‘HO‘ on my left butt cheek in big letters. He writes ‘NEY’ on my right butt cheek. It is something that my Owner told him to do every day to get me used to my new name and he delights in writing the letters over the faded letters from the previous night.

Miss Claire told him that the ‘O‘ could be just a ring around my asshole but Mister Kyle is a stickler for detail and refuses. She told him once to draw the letter ‘R‘ on my asshole to spell HORNEY. I thought that was clever and I have to admit it was pretty funny. Mister Kyle is a creature of habit and unless someone suggests to him to do something different he is going to write HONEY every day.

Mister Kyle attached a leash to my collar. I wear a simple metal collar at all times – even at work. It has a metal hoop that can be used to attach a leash or bind me by attaching my collar to something. He untied my hands and ordered me to heel. I followed him on all fours and waddled behind him outside to the backyard. The funnel of ice is slowly melting in my butt.

“How come you don’t wear the fidget spinner butt plug that I got you?” he asked me.

“I don’t get to choose what toy your father wants to train my asshole with Mister Kyle. If you want to see me play with it, you can ask him to borrow it, Sir,” I said to him.

“I like how the spinner looks like a pinwheel spinning in your butt,” Kyle said with an amused expression as he led me over to my rosebushes. They are well maintained. We have a gardener, but he no longer does any of the gardening. He instructs me how to trim the hedges, mow the grass and rake the lawn to perfection.

“Thank you, Mister Kyle,” I said.

He kicked my bottom with his foot and told me that I was in puppy mode.

“I am sorry, Mister Kyle! You didn’t say puppy mode. You just ordered me to bark good morning to you,” I reminded him politely. I try not to sound condescending. I have what is commonly known as resting bitch face. It is difficult for me not to sound sarcastic or patronizing when I try to be polite. It is one of the reasons I am so delighted that I have to speak in high protocol at all times while I am at home.

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting. Sorry, Mom! Puppy Mode!” Kyle announced the order. I barked agreement playfully with him. He smiled and told me he wished I could be his puppy 24 hours a day. I looked at him appreciatively. It wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that my owner may want me to do a full day or even a weekend as a puppy.

They also train me around the house as a titty-kitty, moo-cow, and even a slithering snake sometimes in the evenings. In the morning it is always the same routine with Mister Kyle. He wants me to bounce around like an eager puppy and wag my tail (wiggle my ass) for him.

The idea is to dehumanize me as much as possible and humiliate me. The problem is that I sometimes forget it is humiliating and really get into pretending to be a dog. I scratch and sniff and get to turn off my brain for a while while I wiggle my “tail” and get belly rubs. Kyle ordered me to shit in the rose bushes after putting the ice funnel in my mouth to shut me up.

I have five minutes to finish shitting and pissing. Kyle doesn’t wear a watch or care about how long I really take to finish. His Dad has delegated supervising my breaks outside to him and it is one of the more lax rules around the house.

I do my best to self-discipline, but I am always tempted to enjoy a nice relaxing shit in the morning. Kyle inherited his father’s fascination with watching a girl piss or poop. I faced my ass towards him and a small friiip out of a fart puffed out of my ass. It is intensely humiliating to let them rip in front of my son and know he is watching my asshole pucker, open and then close the entire time I do it.

My son giggled for a full minute as he watched a long brown banana-shaped turd emerge from my asshole. Joe and Miss Claire don’t enjoy taking me for walks in the backyard or supervising me while I take a shit. Kyle has been the one to do it almost every morning since we first began my training out in the open. He likes to give me special requests. “Snip it off!” he shouted when I had a particularly long turd hanging out of my butt. I wiggled my ass and let it snap off.

“Turtle for me!” he joked. I have to obey his orders as long as they are reasonable. He had to explain to me that turtling was sucking a turd back into my ass right before it falls out the way a turtle’s head goes back into its shell. I know it sounds disgusting but he laughs and laughs whenever I do it for him.

I pushed the remaining turd-ball out and let it poke out before sucking it back in. Wearing a butt plug has made it much easier for me to perform cute little tricks like this for him. His father hasn’t told him he can’t order me to do this and we haven’t talked about it. He’s seen me take shits plenty of times, so I assumed that if he wants me to do weird little tricks with my butt that it is alright. I should be mortified by being observed while I shit, but I’ve got to admit that it turns me on in a bizarre way.

I am humiliated and embarrassed by what I am doing. The adrenalin coursing through my veins is very addictive, though. At the same time, Mr. Kyle has seen me do it so often that now I don’t see any harm in playing funny little games like this for him. He ordered me to turn around and hold my cunt flaps apart and piss. He likes to watch my pee hole open and dilate before I start to piss. Mr. Kyle still feels a little uneasy about saying “cunt” around me. I drilled into his head how awful that word was to say for so long that it is a difficult habit for him to break. I don’t mind that he says pussy flaps, but I am required to say cunt flaps.

I barked a few times while he watched me piss in the garden. I have been gagged enough that I can bark around the funnel in my mouth. The piss flowed over my bare feet. I am used to the dirt mixing with piss getting on the bottom of my feet. It doesn’t matter anyway because before we go in, Mister Kyle always crimps the hose and washed me down in the backyard on the patio like a good doggy. He loves to spray me in the face and all over my tits. I know Kyle likes to see me soaking wet. Kyle finally removed the funnel after the ice melted. The ice gets stuck in the funnel and he frequently tells me to shake it so that I am giving myself a frosty, slushee type of enema in the morning. I know it was your suggestion to Master Mike that I keep my asshole free of shit at all times whenever possible and the daily enemas have definitely helped me stay regular and hygienic – thank you for that.

I do get to shower inside the house at times but only to wash my husband. I bathe and shit in the backyard normally now. I even feel guilty now for using the toilet when we are out of the house and I get permission to shit or piss. It has really started to feel like this is my place in life and the way things should have been a long time ago.

I’d imagine if the kids grew up with me in open and constant submissive domestic discipline training they would never have questioned it at all. It would have seemed strange to them if I wasn’t doing it! I guess we are making up for lost time now.

My long blonde hair used to be a source of pride for me. It was naturally blonde and didn’t come out of a bottle. I spent lots of money on hair products to make it shiny and healthy. I also spent a lot of time styling it in the morning. I’ve been going to work with it frizzy and tussled every day since the training started. My owner calls it the “Freshly fucked” look.

Mister Kyle finished my morning shower by sticking the garden hose into my asshole and letting it build up pressure. It is a pretty effective enema. My stomach will start to expand, and Kyle always jokes that I look pregnant with a “Butt baby.”

“Ruff!” I barked appreciatively when he finally permitted me to spray the water out of my ass. I always have to lift my leg like a shivering dog trying to piss in the morning. I know Mister Kyle has sent you photos of me in this awkward and extremely vulnerable position trying to piss in the morning.

Kyle led me into the kitchen. I am not permitted to make my own food. I once tried to sneak an oreo into my dog dish, and I’ve never stopped hearing about how untrustworthy I can be. I don’t mind, though, because the reminders reduce the temptation to possibly steal myself a treat in future.

Master Mike has a rule that left overs have to sit in the fridge at least two days before I can eat them. Mister Kyle served me cold ravioli, and Velveeta shells and cheese with some milk poured over the top of it. It smells disgusting like rotten garbage. I have a mason jar in the fridge with cum.

“Wow, there is a lot in there! Did you go out last night, Mom?” Mister Kyle seemed impressed that the jar is a quarter fullwith the semen of strangers and my spit. I thought they would freak out when Master Mike first introduced them to the idea of mixing it into my food but at that point they already understood the foundations of my sexual training and they didn’t freak out.

Mister Kyle thought nothing of turning over the mason jar and letting the syrup of at least a dozen guys jizz drop onto my bowl. He treated it like a very mundane morning ritual for me. I was glad he didn’t think it was disgusting.

There are many grey areas about my training where I suspect we’ve crossed a line but now that it is out there that I am a cum-gobbler I have to own that and just keep smiling while they ladle it on my food. Miss Claire would find it hypocritical if we told them something and then suddenly decided we shouldn’t have. She’s been waiting for something like that so she can say that we don’t know what we are doing.

Truth be told, we are kind of figuring this thing out as we go as a family. Master Mike puts a lot of time and thought into every decision but it is difficult to know where that line should never be crossed. The simple fact is I am a cum-hound and everybody in my family now knows I eat it at least three times a day for lunch, breakfast and dinner.

“Ruff!” I barked playfully. Kyle makes me wait at his feet, and sit up and beg for my food. “Paw?” he asked.