Flames Of Necessity Pt 08

Horace showed the full obedience of his submission to the two girls in brown uniforms, and two more waiting outside, gaining the rich pleasure of their contempt, as he allowed himself to be bound and his body to be wriggled into sacks in the boot of a large black car. Those sacks then bound tightly around him, their laughter was enthusiastic as they gave him a cursory beating for good measure as he lay there, the strikes of the sticks they carried, awarding him a keen erection as he pondered his fate in submissive awe. The excited voice of one of the more youthful women having him longing to spend before he was closed into the darkness of his transport.

"You say this is the one who spurted in your grip?.. oh how I'd love him to do that for me." Horace's erection poked hard and took grateful pleasure in the stimulation of it against the rough sacking, as a voice he was patently familiar with, excited the girl's spiteful sexual nature further.

"Oh yes, and you'll have plenty of opportunity to have him submit to the pleasures that thrill you now..." Horace now knew that Heidi's relentless grip on him was even tighter now, and his indulgence of masochistic fantasies was brought to new highs in his perverted and pathetically submissive mind as he was bumped and shaken in the sack to wherever his next punishment would take place. The sneering laughter continued as the boot was swung open, the light filtering through the sacking, as that erection boned on hearing the voice of Frau Gessler.

"Take him to the new facility behind the women's shower room... we don't want any interference from any of the men here, he'll know feminine authority only." Horace could hear the strutting of the magnificent redhead behind him, as the grip of the four youthful women carried his dead weight with athletic ease, down steps, his nose taking in the humidity and feminine scents of the shower room, then the creak of another door, and the slam of it behind him. Horace heard the formidably proportioned woman admire and take in the novelty of her new facility, as he was dumped, wriggling on what felt like a thin mattress.

"Ahhh... perfection... purposeful and most adequately equipped in seeing we achieve our ends, girls... and now we'll put some of it into practice." The sacks were whisked from him, and still bound tightly under them, two of the younger women hoisted him to his knees, and all four of the younger women, so appealing to his masochism in theirs severe and crisp uniforms, laughed in derisory fashion as his member stood firm and high in a salute to Frau Gessler, whose equally authoritarian uniform and the array of devices that adorned the room about her, promised punishment of the severest order.

With black boots which joined the hem of her tight brown skirt which emphasised the lustrous girth of her hips, tight at the waist, her brown uniform blouse giving equal emphasis to her large breasts, buttoned tight to the collar, her eyes smiling menacingly at him from below the brown garrison cap set at an angle over her bunned red hair; even her presence dominated him, and the whip she toyed with at her side, told him he'd know so much more than just the presence of her acute feminine superiority.

Though the powers of her chosen order in the social world outside, were being eclipsed by those in black, the disdain of that newer power at women displaying any superiority in uniform, didn't suit the pleasures the sadistic officialdom of the uniform awarded her - even those males in brown had looked upon this rarity of gender within their order with chauvinistic scorn... and those that had been brash enough to challenge her directly with it, had soon found themselves humiliated in some way, either directly at her hands, or via some public scandal elsewhere. All men had their weaknesses, and Frau Agatha Gessler was expert at finding where that weakness lay, and using it to devastating effect.

With the power of those in brown now waining fast, following the direct action of a certain ranting individual who needed a good thrashing as far as she was concerned, she'd use that authority while she still could, in selecting males at random for sadistic pleasures. With those higher up who'd objected to her niche feminine order, disappearing as their empire dissolved to find favour in black or elsewhere - some disappearing somewhat mysteriously, never to be seen again - she was left to enjoy a twilight ascendency whilst that power was still recognised, followed eagerly by sadistic femininity such as Heidi.

The room they were now in had been refurbished via funds diverted to her, by one of those males who'd challenged her authority, and found the delight of the whip from one of the younger women too much to resist, though the photographs of his enjoyment had come as a surprise. The racks, gibbets, and chains which were supplemented by the instruments of flagellation and torture which adorned the walls between them, were certainly appealing to Horace, and Agatha was keen to have him taste that appeal in full.

"Whip him Anna! show him your authority, we'll soon have him telling us everything he knows." The girl who'd enthused excitedly to Heidi on securing him in the boot, gasped with the novel rush of erotic pleasure that just the thought of whipping a bound male gave her, and wasted no time in indulging that pleasure upon Horace's flesh. He went face down against the mattress, and thrust his cock at it as the sting of the whip bit at his flesh. The girl soon had him writhing in a tumult of pain and masochistic ecstasy, her cunt wet with arousal as her crazed smile met his eyes as he watched her lash him, the thrill of being whipped soundly by a girl half his age, having him desperate to spend in no time at all. Agatha added to the deliciously sadistic novelty of it, standing with hands on hips as she enjoyed his undeserved suffering which suited the girl's training perfectly.

"Tell us!... tell us all you know!" Horace let out an exasperated gasp of nothingness... indulging the pleasure bit the women further, each fully aware that there was nothing to tell, but the erotic fantasy of his being a subversive gripped them all as the lithe young woman showed him she was his. Agatha grinned and raised her hand, having the girl cease for a moment while Horace writhed with the resonating stinging and continued to thrust his boning cock at the mattress, his mouth managing a defeated 'no...' as the smiling redhead produced a leather gag, taking great satisfaction in silencing him. She waved the girl's continuance with the whip, and the panting girl curled the spiteful thong about his flesh once more, the other girls laughing as Agatha continued her demand.

"Tell!... tell us all you know!... resistance is useless!" The redhead sneered with sadistic satisfaction as he offered grunts through the gag, and his face showed the blissful urgency of masochistic satisfaction of his own.

"Whip him to surrender Anna, you have him... he's yours now!" The look of sadistic elation on the girl's face, as she put every ounce of effort into her stinging deliveries on seeing his face contort and his thrusts tense his entire bound body, had him spend with a submissive lust that matched any surrendering of his seed since leaving Mannerly Hall.

The dark masochism in not knowing what was now to become of him, the gibbets and chains taunting him as he pumped his semen out at the behest of uniformed women, the shocking finality to the life he'd thought he was doomed to at the house, and the spiteful applause of the women who held him now, had him think that this may be his last day... and the submissive bliss had him yearning to be finished by them, the intensity of his orgasm immense with that sordid thought. Agatha's generous proportions of femininity so spitefully expressed in the sinister authority of her uniform, added to his perverse desire to be executed by her, and with his lusting spurts of ecstasy still in full flow, she made sure his humiliation in submission was fully enjoyed by her girls.

On Anna drawing the whip back in preparation for another punishing salvo of flailing, the redhead put her heel to Horace, and had him roll into his back. The laughter and sneering contempt the women showed him, as he arched his back and thrust his rigid cock to the air, the standing bell pulsing out semen in the waining ecstasy of his orgasm, and further stimulated by Heidi flicking his bulging glans with a cane, had him treasure the blissful humiliation of defeat most satisfactorily. None were thrilled more by the display of masochistic defeat than Anna, her youthful cunt wet with sadistic arousal at witnessing her achievement; she'd masturbated males before, and had them masturbate for her, enjoying seeing the semen spurt in her honour through manual stimulation, but the thrill of seeing a cock give up its tribute to her whip, was an erotic pleasure that thrilled the spiteful nature of her ego. Agatha massaged that sadistic ego even further.

"Doesn't that give you such a feeling of power Anna... he's come just for you... surrendered his seed in defeat to your authority, confirming the pleasure of his inferiority to your dominance..." She grinned and had Horace squirm a little more, as she pressed the slippery bell against Heidi's cane with a finger, feeling the warmth of a blob of semen from it.

"...the shameful deed will mark his conscience for much longer than any physical abrasions left by the whip... you've owned him Anna, and we can all see just how much he knows it... and relished the humiliation of it." Horace quivered in fearful anticipation of what might follow, as she started to untie his bonds, eagerly assisted by the others, but left him gagged. She grinned wickedly as she pulled him up to his knees by the leash.

"Well, you've still failed to give us any information... it looks as though we'll need try some other methods... you're so brave, yet so foolish in holding back..." Horace grunted wildly through the gag, his noise only serving to delight the sneering women all the more, as he was paraded by the assorted paraphernalia of pain.

"...it looks as though we're going to have to break you completely before you talk... I do hope you'll think it's been worth it." One of the other two girls who'd so far only enjoyed watching him whipped, went and stood eagerly by a low padded bench that looked like a vaulting horse, the other smiling spitefully as she toyed with some shining metal implements on a trolley by its side.

"Why yes, Ursula and Teresa... a little relaxation after a good whipping will suit him well, and the bench being nice and low, we ladies can have him gauge just how excited we are at relieving information from him." Horace continued to grunt vainly through the gag as the severe woman pulled him to it, Heidi grinning as she dashed the soft leather surface of it with a canister of salt, conveniently available in accompanying a nearby assortment of whips. Agatha smirked as Horace was helped, quivering, to lay back on the low bench.

"So thoughtful of you Heidi... we wouldn't want him to get an infection in any of those lesions on his back." Horace's muffled groans were ignored, but his obvious pain enjoyed, while his arms were drawn down and back, wriggling involuntarily on being tethered with cuffs at the wrist as the salt added its sting to the warmth of his weals. With his knees bent and straddling the other end, his ankles were cuffed to the lower end of those legs, leaving him squirming helplessly at the bite of the salt, and gazing up at the contented smiles of the women, whose reflected gaze also indicated the pleasure that was to come.

With the toes of his restricted feet almost able to touch the floor, the low level of the bench was further emphasised by Agatha working her tight brown skirt up her broad thighs, and consigning his face to a spicily perfumed darkness as she straddled his face. He felt his flaccid cock being toyed with, as his erotic memory was reminded to the delicious whiffs he'd sampled before being made to suck cock, on her sighing as the wet lips of her cunt eased across his nose, to be followed by the sweet tangs of her anus through the silky fabric of her panties.

"We'll soon have that standing to attention again, won't we girls?... then he'll tell us everything we want to know." Horace's cock stirred a little on feeling something cold and smooth being rubbed against the glans, and the feel of another pair of delicate hands tying something about the neck of his scrotum. He sniffed hard as Agatha's broad girth slipped away from his face, the darkness and lush scent offering him comfort from what he might see... but he'd not be denied that pleasure. The pert smile of the brunette Teresa caught his eye before he noted what was in her hand, setting him up nicely for her intentions with it. He gasped as Agatha propped his head up to view the thin silver rod the smiling girl held, and toyed against the end of his semi-erect cock in her firm grip. The tug he felt on his balls as the blonde Ursula pulled on the wire attached to the collar about his scrotum, only distracted him slightly at that point, such was his awe at what the smiling Teresa held; Agatha confirming his fears.

"You know where that's going, don't you Horace... and just look at the selection in the jar, waiting for you to enjoy." Her cynical laughter added a further little stiffness to his overworked cock, while the sight of what stood out from a tall glass beaker filled with antiseptic, had it pulse a little firmer. As he squirmed and grunted through the gag while Teresa toyed the spiked end of the rod at the eye of his cock, his other eyes took in the array of noduled, corkscrews, and girth of some of the rods which seemed half the girth of his cock... then Ursula took his breath away, by adding a weight to the wire attached to his scrotum. The redhead's sadistic delight, teased nicely at his reaction.

"Isn't wonderful, how a male's genitalia lends itself so well to the rigours of manipulation and torture... so much readily available flesh, exposed to please the dominance of womanhood, even examples as diminutive as yours..." Her sneer developed a spiteful apex, her nipples now poking hard through the tight material of her uniform blouse in heady arousal.

"Let him know the consequences of his silence. Teresa... See him know pain." Horace whined through the gag as Teresa's spiteful smile was accompanied by her easing the metallic sound down into his urethra, the eye of his cock stretched exquisitely as the novel discomfort had his cock stiffen further at the painful but strangely stimulating intrusion. His eyes watered immediately as he whinged through the gag, and Agatha saw his pain increased with a smiling nod to Ursula. The girl's satisfaction in adding another weight, was rewarded by Horace's immediate tensioning of his entire body, as the load made its presence felt in stretching the neck intolerably.

Agatha caressed his head as he baulked and whined at the pain, like a nurse consoling a patient throughout a procedure which was excruciating but necessary; and to Agatha this was necessary indeed, just for the sadistic pleasure of it. Teresa slid the lengthy probe up and down several Times, then leaving his rigid cock to hold the protruding end of it high, reached to the jar for something with a little more sadistic novelty to it.

Horace was treated to corkscrews and bulbous, undulating probes, whilst more weight was applied to torture his sack, and when Teresa chose a sound of the thickest girth, and nearly split the eye of his penis with her vigorous insertion of it, he lapsed into darkness amid the spiteful laughter... the pain just too much.

Bennett peered out of the mews window through tearful eyes, as he leaned over the back of the chair with his trousers and pants about his ankles, the people outside passing by through that rear thoroughfare in the select area of London, oblivious to his distress... and his sexual pleasure, at being caned by two women. The chair had been placed to allow him a view of a life he'd now forfeited, the freedom to come and go as he pleased, now removed forever by the harness of feminine dominance. the song of the cane and the sting of its impact, was interspersed with jubilant announcements by the two women welding the canes with extra enthusiasm that morning; Prudence with the thrill of her disposal of Horace, still to be related at Dorset, Myra with the thrill of being rid of her's there, still to come. The latter enthused as her new and novice pet's flesh was striped.

"Take it all on Bennett... we want you to remember the next few days forever..." He heard the whoosh of the cane, and felt the stinging cut which had him buck his erection at the back of the chair; there was no way he'd ever forget the past few days, and the submissive thrill of what was to come, had him welcome the strokes of the cane, in confirming he was not simply locked within some erotic dream. Prudence teased his quivering cheeks with her cane, as she measured her aim.

"You'll certainly remember the journey down there... you're going to feel every bump in the road..." Bennett let out a sharp cry as her cane made its song, and sank into the blushing lines already decorating his flesh.

"...and to be dominated is one thing, to be seen to be dominated by a crowd of taunting women is another, you'll find the humiliation of being outed for the first time, so thoroughly stimulating."

If Bennett found the looks of the occasional passer-by stimulating, as they noted with curiosity, the way he was being sternly marshalled by two women in arranging their bags in the Riley, his sore backside confirmed the stimulation promised by Prudence as their sneering faces watched him take the rear seat. Prudence sat proudly behind the wheel with Myra beside her, Bennett crowded by the bags of feminine necessities, and the one small case holding his few possessions; he wasn't going to need much in the way of clothing where he was going. Myra watched his pained squirming as the car rattled across the cobbled exit road from the mews, pleased to see that he would indeed take everything in.

"Just think of it as a wedding, my pet... because that's what it'll be in effect, a congregation to witness my ownership of you for life... or till I tire of you, and pass you on to someone else maybe." She sneered as she watched him look sideways through the window at the world passing him by, then look forward to her, his face set with a frightened resignation to his lot.

"That's it, there's no escaping it now... even if you were to escape me, you can't escape your own desires now... you're an owned male, dominated and doomed to serve womanhood forever." His cock boned at the sincerity of her words and his acceptance of the truth of it, his erection aided no end, by the weals that had him constantly reminded of it. The long journey south to Dorset, would take him further away from his former life, leaving his freedom behind with it; the thrill for both of them, intensifying with every mile.

Miles Springham was typical of one of those males who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Though Myra had effectively dominated him sexually during their marriage, which like any other couple, those sexual sessions frequent at first, and then since waining to next to nothing, she had not managed to dominate him beyond the bedroom, though his lust for such a lifestyle was ingrained within his sexual psyche. The social connotations of their marriage, in being outwardly vanilla to most of their acquaintances and relatives, formed an impenetrable wall to her dominating him completely, and this led to his philandering with women who'd take him closer to that goal of submissive bliss, whilst he retained the mock show of a stable marriage to Myra, and was happy to leave her wanting... high and dry in a dormant relationship, free from any chance of the financial costs of a divorce which didn't suit him.