William Fortescue had led a brash and arrogant life, indulging his sexual urges in his seduction of many women in the chauvinistic fashion so typical of Victorian gentleman. His affairs had left many of those women burning with vengeful scorn at his bland indifference to their feelings, and his lust for sexual pleasure had taken him down to the depths of extreme fetishes, unaware that the hurt he’d caused in the abandonment of some of those women had resulted in a communication between them which his arrogant ego could not conceive. His rampant libido had taken his depraved lust to the corner of sado-masochism, and on discovering that his reception of the whip was as gratifying as the application of it, his chauvinistic blindness left him exposed to the vengeful nature of some of the meeker women he’d abused, their unseen scheming seeing him encounter one Madam Sadie Pelham as if by chance.
Those women took pleasure in their revenge at length, receiving reports from heralds of their chosen champion via the darker corners of Victorian society, regarding the progress of Fortescue’s reduction at the hands of a confirmed and most severe dominatrix. Her methods secured the total cessation of his free movement amongst the open feminine society, but guaranteed he met many who were of Madam Pelham’s ardently assertive constitution. His foolish recklessness in showing his masochistic bent, aiding in taking him far beyond the petty limits he dreamed of, and taking his crushed ego down in preparation for the true purpose of Madam Pelham’s appointment, one which she was more than delighted to be party to. William Fortescue’s actions had left many of those women he had earlier abandoned, distraught, defiled, and their position in society ruined by the mere speculative gossip their jilting engendered. Learning of the breaking of his spirit was warmly received but would not sate their vengeance, Madam Pelham’s appointment was but the aperitif for the final purpose: Fortescue’s appointment with one Madam Agnes Fairchild, the executrix queen of the dark sub-society that Fortescue would never leave alive. He was to hang, and justifiably so in the eyes the feminine scorn he’d created.
Those women who had procured the downfall of Fortescue sighed with wistful pleasure, some with a genuine sexual arousal manufactured by the spite which had grown within them, when they read in the morning papers of the discovery of a badly decomposed body found in the Thames, believed to be that of one William Fortescue esquire due to the artefacts found within the mildewed clothing on the unrecognisable corpse. Those women knew that Fortescue still breathed and that the body was the remains of a hapless and insignificant member of the lower classes, a pimp who had been chosen for his stature and duly disposed of after enduring the pleasure of Madam Pelham’s more sadistic feminine acquaintances. The whip marks he had suffered when brought to repentance in bondage and fully informed of the good purpose he’d serve, were still in evidence on the remaining flesh, adding a scandalous spice to the practices of a Fortescue who was yet to meet his end in reality. Those agents enthused with pleasure on advising that the pimp spent the contents of his balls most admirably on being smothered beneath the aroused sex of one of their larger number, a fitting end for one who’d enjoyed a sordid living in forcing destitute waifs to offer their cunts to undeserving males.
Newspapers were laid on tables up and down many households, and the vengeful women put pen to paper with some delight, enthusing in letters to each other about what they could possibly wear to the event for which they would shortly expect an invitation.
She took his leash and pulled it taut, a flush of sexual pleasure shimmering through her as he was shown the gallows hall, all the women there at its entrance enjoying the startled look of panic in his eyes as Madam Agnes Fairchild calmly acquainted him with his fate, her intense smile mirroring her deep sexual satisfaction. That smile broadened as she studied the stark horror in his eyes on taking in the foreboding panorama and viewing what lay ahead to the far side; a rudely stout gibbet and dangling noose he now knew she’d have him accomodate. His heart pounded and his sore limbs trembled as the perverse horror sank into his mind and he found himself resigned to his fate, thinking the words through his mind; yes, William Fortescue was to pay for his weakness, he was to hang today. The mature and superior woman who now took undeniable and final control over him with such contentment, echoed what was going through his head.
“Oh yes ... you’re going to hang, no need to look so shocked, you know you’ve earned it and why else do you think all these ladies look so pleased?” She laughed softly as the wretch offered a pitifully grunted protest through the tight gag which would not allow his pleading words, her pleasure increasing as she tugged his leash to the echoing laughter of the women close enough to enjoy the taunt, excited by the male’s attempt for mercy he would not receive. The dominant woman’s steps toward the well used scaffold were positive, confirming to the cowering male that she’d be ardent in her task; those soon to be satisfied women sneering and goading as his reluctance to follow was whipped from him by the woman who had triumphed in his breaking, Mistress Sadie Pelham, the openly exposed pleasure in the administering of her lash ensuring his progress on all fours did not hinder the graceful steps of Madam Fairchild as both basked in the limelight of their audience, nor her arousal which flourished with each step toward the structure which would once again indulge her ultimate pleasure.
The atmosphere amongst the women there who had not noted his immediate entrance, was one of calm indifference though they stood with the fearful backdrop of an instrument of cruel finality behind them, smiling and chatting to each other as though at some mundane social function. Their humour quickly changing to one of keen enthusiasm on seeing the entrance of the matriarchal woman who owned the structure of terminal punishment, the male who was to sate that enthusiasm and benefit from its purpose, leashed naked on all fours in humble obedience. Those that had known Fortescue in his former pompous, arrogant, and chauvinistic form, swelled with vengeful feminine spite at his reduction, their sexual arousal awoken as that spite was indulged by the haughty Mistress Sadie who followed up to ensure that obedience with the whip, as he was led to know the pleasure of defeat in that most final humiliation.
Each step seemed to take a lifetime, though he was in no hurry to fulfill the desire that every woman present lusted for, Agnes savouring drawing him slowly on the leash toward his appointment with the rope which dangled its inviting loop, the stark apparatus looming ever closer. Agnes delighting in calmly extolling the virtues of her equipment to the male, as though he were about to embark on some simple excursion.
“Of course, many men have had the pleasure of providing a final display of their submission to womanhood on my gallows, two of them husbands of mine, now late of course. One of them was responsible for its design, seeing him hanged on it was especially enjoyable.” His Mistress smiled and whipped his exposed buttocks as he faltered, bringing applause from those women in close proximity, anxious to see him complete the journey, and she adding her enthusiasm with pompous sincerity, her dialogue with Agnes purely for the ears of the doomed male so that he was readied for his fate.
“I remember the occasion well Agnes, he showed no reluctance of course, and begged to be allowed to hang for you, unlike most who’ve followed to enjoy the fruits of his labour. He gave a very pleasing display on the rope, as do all who have earned the privilege of knowing your pleasure on the creation he built for his love of you.” Agnes smiled at the sweet memory, careful to ensure the gagged male who’d perpetuate her lust saw the pleasure on her face as she basked in the enthusiastic applause offered by every woman she passed as the steps of her gallows grew ever closer. She was pleased to see that his cock hung rudely erect from his tightly ringed balls; he had been dominated thoroughly and though pleasingly fearful of his fate could not hide his sordid inner desire to give his all in honour of the superior sex.
His mind raced in spite of the slow progress as the smiling face of Agnes turned from him and was directed toward the cruel and final structure which would sate her ultimate lust, her full arse bustling teasingly in the long black skirt, the tightly corseted waist expressing her mature feminine shape; she was a picture of regal feminine dominance, confident and in complete control of his destiny, the leash may have been taut to appease her excitement but her presence alone drew him forward to know her pleasure. The fear he felt for the rope was magnified by the curt and unbridled pleasure shown in some of the faces of women he recognised, women who had experienced deeply erotic satisfaction in dominating him when he’d been loaned out by his Mistress, others women he’d abused prior to his capitulation to their dominant sisters; the satisfaction shown by those faces was especially vibrant. The cruel comments they offered as he passed kept his mind keen as to the reason he was in attendance at this place, and the spiteful delight within their addresses tinkered with his submissive aura, keeping his cock rigid despite the outcome he knew he’d not escape.
Madam Emily Hart was a prime example, she brushed through the line of women who stood along his path to the gallows, in most unladylike fashion, eager to get a close view of the tethered male and have him hear her sincere feelings. She gave Agnes and his Mistress a contented smile before focusing her attentions on the naked male, who was obligingly paused when almost in the shadow of the gallows and received a sharp prod on his naked flank as she pulled up her skirt and awarded him her heel.
“We meet again ... just this one final time. I’m so thrilled to be here, your Mistress had told me that your appointment here was imminent when you last savoured my whip ... I was so close to revealing the secret as you began to spend under the lash, I’d have so savoured letting you know as you gave up your seed. Oh! I had SUCH an intense orgasm when you serviced me with your tongue afterwards, knowing I’d be the last woman other than your Mistress that you’d taste ... I just can’t wait to see you hang.” Fortescue’s cock boned as the fresh memory of her acute sadism from just two days past echoed clearly in his mind. He now knew that the intensity of her pleasure was magnified inexorably by her knowledge that his Mistress was finalising his appointment with the gallows on that day; Madam Hart’s more than willing availability in taking charge of him on that occasion, expressed so sincerely in her application of the whip and deeply fulfilling orgasm on knowing she’d see him hang that week, and that he’d not be allowed to spend again until displayed on the rope.
Fortescue cowered under her heel as the enthusiastic spontaneity of her address was greeted with eager applause from the listening crowd of women, the motion wafting their various perfumes to tease at his nose, perfumes which brought back memories of more comfortable situations than that of his present predicament - some of the scents reminding him of women he had been curtly chauvinistic with prior to his being broken by their combined feminine guile. The scent haunted him as the direction of Agnes and Sadie’s pleased smiles led his look to the awaiting gallows; his pompous masculinity had earned him the pleasure of his display on the unforgiving rope, and they knew he was resigned to it in defeat. There were so many women attending eagerly and he had been party to the company of many of them in one guise or another; he’d seen that some of the faces that owned the scent were those of women he’d brashly abused before being corrected in strict and deserved fashion by Sadie - their witnessing him drop and squirm in penitence on the rope would bring them pure ecstasy - his cock perked and dribbled pre-cum at the lushly submissive thought that his severe conditioning had brought him, though immersed in inert terror at the prospect, he knew he’d spend whilst hanging to delight those women who had returned gladly by invitation to haunt him with satisfied justification.
He faltered on the sneering Ms Hart lifting her heel and the tug of his leash urging him forward, Agnes giving a curt look which told him she’d not be moved from indulging her pleasure as Sadie indulged hers in bringing the lash smartly across the rear of his thighs and exposed balls. He grunted through the gag in pain, his quivering arms and legs taking him closer to the roughly utilitarian steps - the last he’d know - when those stinging balls became the subject of his next halt after a few paces, to further his cruel humiliation.
A smiling woman stepped forward, flushed with excitement at her role that day; dressed in a tight black outfit with riding crop under one arm, she also held a basket which she offered up to Agnes and Sadie whilst smiling down at the soon to be suspended male.
“Please take your ticket if you will ... of course, I’m hoping mine is the one, what a thrill that would be.” Fortescue’s anus tingled wildly as the two women each picked a slip of folded paper from the basket and thanked the woman, Agnes grinning at her as she and Sadie both pocketed their slips, still folded.
“At least you’ll have the satisfaction of having been instrumental in passing the winning ticket over, even if you don’t win...” She paused and sneered triumphantly down at the bemused male who’s eyes were filled with mystery as she took the basket from the woman.
“As a reward for your service in distribution, why don’t you have a feel of them, as they are now? That should provide ample compensation.” The woman’s face was a picture of sheer bliss as the listening crowd applauded energetically on the male being made aware of what they all already knew in so humiliating a fashion by the sporting Agnes. Fortescue flinched as the woman moved round behind him, knelt and felt the warmth of his balls in her hand, those at the rear delighted to see his anus squeeze and dilate automatically in fear, he the focus of their sheer exhilaration at his humiliation on awaiting the announcement they knew Agnes would grant his perplexity. The eager woman laughed as she fondled his sack and took the liberty of holding his boning cock in her hand, feeling it pulse as he dared guess on the nature of her distributive task. Agnes confirmed the cold truth to him with pronounced pleasure, her cunt tingling as the onlookers gave those balls special adoration.
“Prior to your being displayed to provide the just spectacle that we all desire, the tickets will be viewed. Every woman here has readily accepted hers, the one holding the ticket bearing the symbol of your manhood will be awarded your balls as a lasting memento. You’ll spend on the rope one way or the other, and having done so, your balls will be removed before you succumb to eternal darkness, their purpose rendered useless and pickled in a jar, they’ll be prized by one of us here as a trophy symbolic of feminine dominance to be displayed with pride at feminine functions by the new owner.” Fortescue quaked with a fresh fear at this cruel trivialisation of his anatomy, the castration on the rope removing what little dignity he’d have along with his balls. The kneeling woman ringed the neck of his scrotum above the already tight ring with her fingers, and sneered as she gave the hanging sack a firm squeeze to emphasise the extra pain he’d suffer. With his face white and eyes wide at the thought and with the dull pain from the squeeze, Agnes continued to a delighted audience.
“The winner, who will be more than grateful, will be invited to ascend the platform at the given signal and watch while Nurse Geraldine Adams performs the task of emasculation, a task she is well acquainted with and takes great pleasure in exacting.” The balls that were still in Fortescue’s possession temporarily, tingled with raw fear as his leash was tugged to bring his head high, on a raucous ovation greeting a woman stepping from the crowd to be viewed by all. Nurse Adams stood and stared with a fixed smile through pince-nez spectacles at her victim, her high cheek bones and auburn hair in a tight bun making her look all the more austere. Though the slender middle-aged woman would find the physical element of the castration routine, Fortescue could see the mental thrill it promised her, nipples poking hard with excitement through her tight black blouse as she enjoyed the fear in his eyes. She lifted her black leather instrument bag to her front, patting it with her other hand to emphasise the potency of its content. Agnes acknowledged her for the further benefit of the male’s terror, while the Nurse bowed her head to the adoration of the feminine crowd.
“Geraldine has guaranteed the impotence of many males under the rule of the ladies of our circle, usually as a lasting punishment to reduce formerly cocksure slaves to the level of eunuch. I know that the task of removing masculinity after a male has known the final ecstasy on the rope, the last act the subject experiences before permanent departure, is one she finds especially appealing.” The fear he now felt was compounded by the pleasure with which the delivery of her speech was offered. It brought his anus to a tingling point of dilation which had him near defecation, but her confident tone and the strictly applied dominance at Sadie’s hand which had nurtured his own willing masochism, generated a perverse and teasing pleasure; a solemn yet erotic resignation to his fate. The contented smile from Agnes as she tensioned the leash once more under the focus of so many resolutely eager women, crushed any resistance he may once have offered. It ensured he offered little reluctance to their progress, he now almost eager to know the delights of the noose and end his defeated misery.
The fearful male was tugged past the eager nurse to the small semi-circular arena before the steps of the gallows, the fervour of the audience of women increasing by the moment, as the male was presented for their viewing. Agnes and Sadie turned to face both them and the cowering Fortescue, and with straight faces and choreographed precision, both unhitched their long black skirts and let them drop. Fortescue’s cock bobbed in earnest sexual excitement despite his fear, as the two revealed their nakedness from waist down, barring the heeled boots both wore, which was met with rapturous applause from their audience; the eager women sensing this heralded the imminent dispatch of the cowering male. Fortescue was lost in the atmosphere of the moment, though he too knew he did not have long to live; he marvelled at the delicious feminine shapes of the two dominant females, Agnes in particular, being unfamiliar to him. Her broad hips and generous thighs were accentuated by the tight black corseted waist, the glorious mound of her cunt proudly displayed in the vista of white flesh, expressing the power of womanhood, a superior power which would both silence and neuter his masculinity. He could not escape the deeply erotic stimulation he felt in knowing this supreme woman was the woman who would hang him.
The two women were also deeply stimulated by their exposure, their breasts heaving as they sighed with keen anticipation of the coming spectacle, Agnes well accustomed to the experience of it but never tiring of its rewarding novelty - another male would succumb to satisfy her ultimate desire, each one gave her unique sexual gratification, each one’s blend of fear and submissive ecstasy as wholesomely pleasing as the last. Many women in the audience also removed their skirts to show their solidarity and total commitment to the feminine order, those who had enjoyed prior hangings courtesy of Madam Agnes Fairchild grinning as they revealed no underwear either, no hindrance to the masturbation they’d enjoy as the male paid the price and squirmed on the rope before them. Agnes shivered with raw sexual excitement on seeing Fortescue crane his neck and inhale hard through his nose, in the hope of catching the scent of the two generously wet vaginas. He would not be disappointed; she nodded to Sadie.
Fortescue knelt meekly in defeat as the woman who had crushed his will stepped forward, smiling in the spotlight of her glory, the whip which symbolised her feminine authority and had reduced him to a level of pathetic obedience, trailing by her side. She trailed the whip over his back and smiled at the ecstatic crowd as she stood with her sex to his face.
“Sniff my cunt!” He eagerly poked his nose to the task, sniffing hard at the rich feminine spice he knew so well, some of the women in the audience already openly nursing their cunts as they took in the wonderful vista of the soon to be hanged male, kneeling and eagerly paying homage to the woman who had brought him to the gallows which loomed behind. Her look of cruel satisfaction at having achieved his defeat and delivery for execution, generating a keen jealousy at her position from the watching women, who boosted their sadistic arousal with eager strokes of the clitoris. Their fervent enthusiasm to witness the male displayed and knowing the full price of that submission on the rope, magnifying his sense of foreboding. Agnes looked down with satisfaction as he indulged his sexual need and his Mistress’s triumph; she would receive hers at a higher level. Sadie watched his erect cock bob and poke as he gratefully imbibed her scent, savouring the moment before she delivered her part of his epitaph.
“That’s it, you have a good sniff at what you’ve worshipped so obediently with your tongue so often after the many corrections you’ve received with whip or cane, or after having had the pleasure of seeing a worthier male service me, then obliging by tonguing me clean.” The audience of women savoured his humbling with just satisfaction, admiring Sadie’s insatiable keenness to humiliate; the thought of seeing him lick the spent cream of another male from her satisfactorily serviced cunt, cast on an exquisite vision they were more than grateful to her for providing. The formerly arrogant male having spent his seed so freely amongst them, shown his correct position and put to thoroughly good use.
“Well, now you know just why I took such pleasure in your service - I knew from the moment you were placed under my supervision that your destiny was to be brought here to pay the full price for your selfish male indifference to women - you’ve reached the end of your use to me ... apart from the final gesture you’ll provide, so have a good sniff at what you’ll never enjoy again ... I do hope your departure is swift, I’m anxious to give your replacement the attention he deserves.” Her last line brought cynical and just laughter from the audience, his use was spent, and a woman must satisfy her needs; the crushing confirmation of his uselessness, and her cruel pleasure in announcing it, had his cock dribbling in defeat with submissive eroticism.
Agnes now took his leash and tugged him to the steps, the feminine crowd baying and taunting as he was led to face his punishment, his legs and arms ascending shakily as he was drawn in obedience by the stern Agnes to sate her desire. He snorted frantically through his nose, the saliva dribbling from the ball gag with the scent of Sadie’s victorious cunt still teasing his senses, mesmerised by the delicious legs and broad feminine arse which ascended slowly before him. Her steps were positive and uniform, her quest not to be denied as he was led quaking, up to the platform with the stark beam and noose above it awaiting the women’s pleasure at his final and permanent expense.
As she stepped elegantly across the platform, she felt the tension on the leash increase, Fortescue delighting the crowd by showing reluctance. Agnes lifted her head haughtily and staring down her nose at the cowering male, pointed to the trapdoor on which she stood. Fortescue’s balls tingled at the sheer presence of her feminine power, his spirit so completely broken at Sadie’s cruel pleasure, he was compelled forward by the authority of her dominant stance alone, his complete obedience to womanhood confirmed. His balls tingled all the more, his anus squeezing and bulging, as the continuation of his progress brought the sneers and scornful contempt for his weakness from some women, whilst others expressed wildly their adoration of the feminine superiority shown so naturally by Agnes. Fortescue knew he’d confirmed her supremacy over him, and his shame was flushed with a keenly erotic aura as his cock pulsed erect to show his sinful subconscious pleasure.
As he knelt before her, two scantily clad females emerged from the darkness at the rear of the gallows, one carrying a chair, the other bearing leather straps. Agnes grinned as they swiftly bound his ankles, and his wrists behind his back, the two women showing their pleasure in being chosen for the task; both proudly displaying camel-toes which bulged with excitement through their silky black underwear as they moved round him, their pert bottoms tight and black seamed stockings expressing the femininity of their thighs. Fortescue quivered as they secured a leather belt around his knees, and another about his chest at the elbows; he could be reluctant at leisure now, he quivered with fear on the tight straps confirming there was no escape, he would hang.
As he was being strapped secure for dispatch, he was encouraged to notice that the boarding directly before the trap was bear and untreated woodwork, by Agnes placing the chair close to it; everywhere else was uniformly treated and polished, but the bare grain before the ominous trap only bore streaks and splatters of varying darknesses, evidence of another substance having stained the timber. Agnes grinned as she sat her naked flesh in the chair and crossed her legs; the sight of her plump arse splayed upon the seat and her broad thighs keeping his cock nicely erect. She pointed to her lap with a curt smile, and the two assistants helped him waddle to her and lie across her lap with his arse facing the audience; she had one more humiliation for him to suffer, but first she’d indulge his curiosity regarding the woodwork. As he lay across her lap and felt her hand slip across his bare buttocks, his cock pulsed against her thighs, expecting a very public spanking before his execution, but the hand then gestured to the woodwork.
“You can see where the many males brought here expressed their ecstasy by endorsing their pleasure with the mark of their semen, their emissions given as they enjoyed defeat, stain the woodwork so well don’t you think? Each shade a signature left by a male to bear testament of his final pleasure in submission. You’ll join them in making your mark today, I know you’re ready for it, I’ve seen how the thorough training you’ve had has prepared you for the hanging you richly deserve...” She patted his backside playfully, making him jerk to delight his audience, thoroughly enjoying having him squirm helplessly in bondage as his eyes surveyed the patterns of the departing shots offered.
“ ... and hang and surrender your seed you will.” Fortescue was now close to staining the boards prematurely as his cock slipped against her thighs, expecting to feel the sting of her hand, but it did not come. The sudden pleased applause of the crowd made him lift his head, and his tingling anus clenched in fear as one of her pert assistants passed her a large anal plug, smiling wickedly as she did so. Agnes took the plug and held it high to receive the gratuitous approval of the audience, then held it for the perusal of Fortescue as he bent his head to see it, grunting fearfully through the gag as he viewed its rude enormity. Agnes took great pleasure and deliberation in describing its features and virtues, rubbing her hand across its knobbled lower surface.
‘This is the right side up. You’ll find the wearing of this generously proportioned plug most exquisite, it serving two purposes. The first is to aid your ejaculation, as these bulbous knobbles will stimulate your prostate wonderfully as you hang ... you see, as you tense and squirm while your neck takes takes the weight of your body, the plug will be forced hard against your prostate, massaging it most indelicately as you dance for us and providing wonderful stimulation as your anus proceeds to spasm in fear...” She paused and watched his chest rise and fall, smiling softly as she enjoyed savouring his captive bewilderment; he had more than earned the commission of her services, and her cunt tingled as she enjoyed making him squirm before he was allowed the relief of the noose.
“ ... The enforced action will encourage you to spend liberally ... increasing your sense of submission as you savour the delight of having been hanged by me whilst bound. You’ll find your final orgasm will be enhanced no end by its assistance. It’s other purpose is to prevent you defecating ... you’ll have the pleasing urge to shit when hanged, caused by your fear of the death you can’t escape. That having been achieved, hopefully after you have given us a lengthy and pleasing display which’ll include the clinical removal of your balls, your bowels will relax and prompt the evacuation of their contents. The plug will ensure you don’t soil the arena ... either struggling or spent!” Some of the women moaned with blissful relief on reaching a worthy orgasm on seeing Fortescue’s writhing torment at her words; unable to hold back for the grand finale of the hanging, such was the intensely erotic atmosphere created by the dominant Madam Fairchild’s expertly cruel preparation.
“Now we’ll have everyone here enjoy your acceptance of the plug!” Her arse cheeks now slipped on the seat due to her richly aroused cunt oozing it’s juices as Fortescue bucked on her lap in fear, the motion halted by the two assistants who stood either side; each placed a hand on his bound thighs to hold him squirming on the lap of Agnes, then looked to the crowd with a smile as they used their free hand to each pull an arse cheek back. Fortescue grunted through the gag, half shamed at his own reaction on his cock boning rigid as the cool air teased his exposed anus. The delighted commotion of the audience behind him as they bunched together to get a good view of the misery he’d suffer on insertion, had him test his bonds in earnest as Agnes allowed her audience time to take in the vista of the humiliated male’s twitching and pursing pucker, the noose dangling above him and awaiting his fitting of the final token which would grant him its pleasure.
Agnes smiled as she slipped the plug down his back and through the cleft of his cheeks, watching him quiver in anticipation of the pain as she nursed the softness of his bulging and retreating anus with the conical end of the rigid plug.
“This is the token that completes your preparation, it’ll also enhance the feeling of fear we all want you to enjoy as it stretches your anus wide and holds it in permanent dilation, at the point it would spread to in a situation of absolute peril ... in keeping with what you face.” The murmurings of the crowd hushed as they watched the smiling Agnes press the smooth but bulbous plug home, Fortescue’s grunts of discomfort offering them satisfaction while the pleased maids held his thighs firm as he lifted his lower legs, bound and helpless to prevent the rectal invasion. Agnes sighed with pleasure on feeling the tight resistance to each of the undulating knobs while his anus was stretched by the generous girth, rubbing the flat base with a pompous sincerity on seeing his anus clench at the taper on complete insertion, to the renewed vigour of applause as the defeated male squirmed at the pain and humiliation of his public and most permanent buggery.
Fortescue found his erection was even more earnest than before as Agnes pulled his head back to view the noose once more, she savouring the tearful eyes as his tensed body tried to accomodate the discomfort of the immense plug. His squirming as the scornful jeering of the women in appreciation of seeing his winking anus stilled, and replaced by the broad black circle of the plug’s base, was lush humiliation indeed. He had been violated many times by the keen servicing of Sadie’s strap-on, often as she entertained friends in the process of showing them her prowess in breaking down the spirit of a male to a satisfactory level of enslavement. But his exposure here and what it would lead to, reduced him to the divine depths of a helpless schoolboy, chastised by a stern schoolmistress and about to be caned before the entire school on his masturbation being made cruelly public. The noose came as a more than suitable substitute for the cane, the arrogant abuse of the women who had now fashioned his downfall and would be vindicated with satisfaction as they watched him hang, an apt substitute for masturbation and the further humiliation of its penalty before a keen assembly.
Agnes sighed and savoured the pleasure of her thoroughly practiced ritual, her cunt tingling as she felt his submission while he stared awestruck at the noose, still inhaling heavily through his nose as his spread anus warmed to the delights of the plug; she had witnessed this resignation to defeat many times before, and as his cock rubbed its eager lubrication against her thigh, she’d wake him from his relative comfort to the cold realisation of the price he’d pay. She jerked his head sharply.
“Now we’ll have you down on the trap and noosed! I want you to fully enjoy the excitement of the ladies as they seek ownership of your balls, and the sheer bliss on the face of the successful new owner.” Fortescue pleased her by showing further resistance on being disturbed from the temporary fantasy he’d indulged in, incurred in the aftermath of the shock caused by the fitting of the plug. His whimpering through the gag and futile squirming on being deftly moved down and across to the trap by the grinning assistants gave her a wholesomely erotic buzz, but it paled in comparison with the lushly electric feeling of acute sadism as the noose was lowered and she slipped it over his head. This was indeed one her most rewarding moments of the process, having the quivering male feel the inviting grasp of the leather lined noose as she eased the bulky slipknot tight against the rear of his neck, hearing his pathetic half hearted grunts for mercy through the gag, yet seeing the cock which had earned him the privilege pulse erect to acknowledge the underlying masochistic excitement for final pleasure, whipped and caned into his psyche by feminine superiority.
Still on his knees, Fortescue felt the strength drain from his legs and body as the noose that had appeased the carnal lust of the matriarchal Agnes was slipped tight about his throat and neck, bound naked, gagged and plugged, the women’s lustful fervour on viewing him being readied for the drop increased on seeing the rope applied. The reality that he was to hang now made so tangible by the strangely comforting squeeze of the rope, he hyper ventilated through his nose and squirmed in the tight bondage, his fear enhancing the spite of the women and having him know he’d provide a satisfying spectacle. Agnes stood dominantly above him, letting his urgent inhalation take in the occasional whiff of her heady arousal as she moved around him to feign adjusting the noose which she knew was already perfectly positioned. She was the woman who would hang him, and she wanted to make sure he appreciated her presence as she indulged in his combination of fear and the dark lust which kept him erect. The faces of other males and their deeply satisfying and final performances on the rope flashed through her mind and bolstered her arousal, bringing her lust to taunt to the fore.
“You’ll not be hooded of course. We all want to witness the torment on your face as you struggle ... followed by the inevitable ecstasy that you’ll show when confirming the ultimate submission that all men hoisted for the pleasure of women show, and for you to witness in full the pleasure that your audience receives on seeing it ... You’ll spend for the last time most exquisitely for the benefit of it, and honour my woodwork with your mark to confirm your approval.” She now stood on the trap facing the crowd, and gripped the rope above his head, posing in triumph as she tensioned it about his neck, teasing his anticipation with what was to come as the crowd showed their eager approval of its promise of his final display.
“Ladies! Please now view your tickets ... let’s see who’ll take possession of his balls as a lasting memento of his final day.” Fortescue whimpered through his gag in indignant disbelief as he watched the fervour of the women while they eagerly produced their slips of paper and viewed them as though partaking in a church hall tombola, the earnest disappointment they showed on seeing it blank, as painful as their prior enthusiasm. A hand rose from within the crowd, and its owner stepped to the fore through the crowd who now applauded her luck, the slip held high bearing an inked image. Fortescue’s balls tingled with fear as her progress was joined by Nurse Adams whose eagerness to castrate him was evident in her curt smile. His memory went back to a modest but expensive house near Regent Street, and the plump widow there who he’d used to satisfaction before departing unannounced, as that woman emerged to ascend the steps with the nurse, Sadie now ascending too as dominatrix of honour.