Chapter 1

Nathaniel Creed had remained unmarried, despite the efforts of his mother, now departed, to introduce her reasonably well to do and eligible son to daughters of her friends. In this year of 1890, his Victorian existence was one of awkward but comfortable bachelorhood, as he fought to ignore the sexual urges he experienced but could not never dispel completely. There were pretty maids in his employ at his home, but he found the erections which frequently embarrassed his conscience, occurred more often with a fleeting glance of the burly and middle-aged cook, and other women in a place of meagre social authority in this world of fiercely masculine controlled society.

On occasions when his ardour rose to a point where his facade of upright and superior masculinity was breached, he’d lock himself in his study and consult his covert collection of risque publications which were kept secreted in his bureau under lock and key, and after masturbating over the pictures and tales of women of authority which he’d secured in equally covert expeditions to London’s less salubrious quarters, he’d chide himself for his weakness and hide the sordid thoughts that challenged his mantle of male supremacy. Those thoughts were never quite hidden though, and on one warm spring day he overheard a conversation which would lead to a change in his life forever, and bring him the ecstasies he truly desired. Two pompous and bearded males with faces reddened with outrage stood under a plane tree on the avenue, one beating his brass headed cane on a poster pinned to it.

“It’s a disgrace, I tell you! Not heard of such a thing ... and outside the Guildhall of all places!” Creed paused as he passed the pair, catching the eyes of one of them, who looked to him for the support which he’d naturally expect from one of his gender.

“Shocking sir! Absolutely shocking! These women should know their place and stay at home with the children and servants! ... shocking!” Creed looked at the poster, now tattered from the exertions of the cane bearer. ‘Demonstrate for women’s suffrage ... ladies cast off your chains ... meet at the Guildhall, Saturday 3 p.m.’ Creed feigned his indignance as his cock swelled to unveil an ulterior passion.

“Oh yes ... yes ... er, an utter disgrace!” He left the two males behind to rant in their natural chauvinism, but did not leave the date and place with them; his cock was massaged by his stride as he his mind tinkered with the thought of the bold examples of womanhood who’d attend ... he tried to cast off the notion of attending himself, but a cold sweat gripped him as he fantasised; he was doomed by his perverse curiosity, and knew he’d be there.

Creed stood on the perimeter, watching the throng of women with their placards, each behaving impeccably as they stood firm while a line of exasperated policemen kept a group of belligerent males at bay, whose behaviour was anything but civil. As he studied the feminine shapes and their determined expressions, he looked for those eyes that sported the most ardent vigilance behind them, wistfully imagining the command that they may have over any male partner they may reside with. There were of course many other bystanders there, male and female, simply curious as was he, and as he moved to another corner and gazed at the banner wielding women, he turned to find one of those female bystanders smiling at him, as though she knew just why he was there. Creed smiled back awkwardly, immediately finding the mature, tightly corseted woman in black very attractive, to the point that his curiosity overcame his usual timidity with the fairer sex. She cut an imposing form of femininity, standing with an even more mature woman dressed similarly, their full breasts jutting from their tightly collared dresses, their graceful curves in their long dresses invitingly seductive in the eyes of a male who craved submission to womanhood. He swallowed hard as he edged toward the smile which drew him in.

Julia Mountford had little interest in the cause that her fellow females demonstrated for so vehemently; her belief was that women were already superior, and a trivial thing like women being given the vote, enabling them to partake in the circus like facade of the masculine society which prevailed upon the surface of life, was of little consequence. In the world she knew, the real world, women were already all powerful; the vote would come anyway, it was simply a matter of time. She and Constance Templar already enjoyed authority over every male within their society, and as associates of a certain Ella Hempleton, they were always on the lookout for male recruits of a certain weakness, who’d perpetuate their order of feminine superiority which grew day by day.

Julia had been the victim of an abusive husband whom she’d been married off to at an early age, a wealthy heir for whom she had no affection, her union one of financial benefit to her society family of which she saw little herself whilst her husband lived. She quickly became hardened to his abuse, and was glad when his interest in her faded as over the years his womanising took his attentions toward other women, allowing her to plot his demise. A meeting with one of the women he’d mistreated led to her being introduced to one Ella Hempleton, and his disposal was gratefully arranged. The years of abuse followed by the association with Ella and her guidance, helped her develop a deep pleasure in dominating males, and when the time came, it was with a vengeful ecstasy that she castrated her husband as he hanged for her pleasure. His wealth and her widowhood was then thoroughly enjoyed, when his mangled remains were found twisted within the wheel of a paddle steamer near one of the quaysides he owned, the apparent victim of an accident which led to her inheritance.

Today’s event was one which would draw ‘sympathisers’ of the male gender, some of whom required more than women simply obtaining the vote. Dependent on their circumstances, males could always be put to good use, from simple blackmail, to being sold into slavery under a rich woman. She and Constance had already found several men whose recognition of the actual cause was vague, the nature of their spectating giving up the possibility of a need to know female empowerment rather than equality; they having been invited to a society meeting at a later date, where further inspection as to suitability could take place. The male she now smiled upon gave up certain traits they recognised, and Julia found him attractive too, a factor that warmed her sex with anticipation.

Creed found an overpowering magnetism toward the elegant woman, he was not one for approaching women in public, yet it came easily somehow. He took a sharp intake of breath as her green eyes illuminated below the veiled hat she wore, and her red lips pouted before she spoke.

“It’s such a glorious thing to see women stand up to men and demand what they should already have ... don’t you think?” Constance studied his face and body language, the fixed smile on her mature lips making him all the more nervous, yet somehow excited as he struggled to respond to her companion’s question in a relevant way.

“Why ... yes ... yes, I think women should have the vote ... certainly.” His limp answer eased Julia’s confidence; he was no political activist, that was for sure, no forthright positivity in his response. Constance lifted her chin and showed a little more feminine arrogance as she tested him by going a step further.

“So you see women as equal to men, do you?” Her smile curled a little, and her eyes seemed to entice him into admitting he wanted womanhood to have more than equality, as if she knew exactly why he was there. His cock bulged at the thought, making him conscious of his appearance ... he thought of answering quickly and making his exit. Julia sensed his alarm and softly clutched his arm, warming to his vulnerability, cancelling out his thoughts of an exit as he replied.

“Oh ... yes, I see women as ... as equal...”. Julia cut in quickly, anxious to have him attend their meeting where he could be assessed, and where she hoped the sultry, and slightly decadent atmosphere they had planned, would ease him into opening up.

“My name is Julia Mountford, and this is Constance Templar. We are always glad to meet men who are like minded, and would be so glad to have you meet more women who think as you do...” She squeezed his arm and intensified her smile.

“ ... and I would so like to see you again personally, under more comfortable circumstances.” His cock now bulged erect under his clothing as he took in her sweet scent, and thought he felt a an enticing subliminal message in her request. Though he couldn’t quite get himself to believe the fantasy it cooked up, he settled for the chance of at least being in the company of women which just might lead to something else; he almost sighed his response.

“I’d like that so much too.” Constance pulled a leaflet from her waist band and handed it to him as Julia reluctantly released his arm, but stared into his eyes commandingly.

“Tomorrow at six, be there, I’ll be waiting for you.” Creeds cock pulsed as the two strutted off nonchalantly, knowing his eyes would be surveying their rears as they departed. Constance smiled.

“I know you’ve taken to him already, you’ll be so disappointed if we’re wrong ... but I don’t think so, he’ll be on his knees to you in no time.” Creed sighed in a strangely euphoric state as he viewed the leaflet; ‘Madam Ella Hempleton invites you to attend a feminine fraternity meeting - May 15th at Six O’clock, Boadicea House, London... ‘ just the thought of seeing that woman again, and many others, secured his attendance.

Creed was more than pleasantly surprised on viewing the grandiose residence that was Boadicea House; he’d been nervous about attending somewhere obscure and dingy, but this large and imposing building announced its presence to one and all as soon as he entered the street. He would soon discover that its owner suited that presence admirably. He rang the bell, and as soon as the large front door was swung open, he was immediately bathed in a sweet jasmine like scent which permeated its rooms, announcing the domain of femininity. A young maid with her hair up in a severe bun, dressed sharply in black, gave more of a sneer than a smile as she accepted the leaflet from him. She was not discourteous in any way, but neither did she make any effort to bow or curtsey, as would be the norm for a maid when greeting guests. She simply gave a further sneer.

“Enter, you’ll wait there.” She pointed to an alcove, into which he stepped obligingly. As she moved to close the door, her face illuminated on the arrival of an elegant woman, her ample mature figure clad tightly in a black silk dress which showed her substantial breasts as though they’d been painted black, a sash below the garment keeping them held boldly high without use of a bra. Her hair was held high, giving her height and making her all the more imposing. The maid immediately dropped into a curtsey before her, a smile broad and genuine across her face.

“Madam Fairchild, so good to see you, I’m so glad you’ve come.” She embraced the maid.

“I wouldn’t miss such an opportunity, my dear Lucy, you know I’m always keen to find possible candidates.” She grinned at the maid, then gave Creed a haughty half-smile edged with contempt as she wafted past and displayed a thoroughly erotic pair of buttocks as she ascended the three steps to the main hall doors. He heard a warm applause as she entered and the doors closed behind her. Lucy’s look returned to one of indifference as she ushered Creed forward, and as he went to ascend the steps, her sneer returned.

“No, not that way, that entrance is for the ladies.” Creed felt a lush sixth sense have his cock stir, as the bitchy looking young woman took a certain pleasure in leading him through a corridor which skirted the hall, to three bland steps up to a single door. He stepped up and opened the door. Though he was in full view of all when he entered, the women there simply gave him studied looks of contempt, and when another woman arrived almost immediately, they gave warm applause as she entered through the double doors. Despite the contempt shown by the immediate female onlookers, the entrance of each male was being studied with interest by certain eyes.

Several groups of men stood in small groups, their supposedly covert and leering glances at nearby women, who were all uniformly dressed in a similar style to Madam Fairchild, viewed by those inspecting eyes, as were others whose faces showed the greatest indignance at the un-ceremonial method of their entrance. Some, like Creed stood alone, calmly observing the surroundings and more awe-struck by the natural confidence of the women there. He swallowed hard on noting that those who had arrived before him and stood alone, were picked off by smiling women and shown to secluded areas within the hall. Julia smiled at Ella Hempleton, pleased that he’d arrived, and had also passed the first test; the male she’d met for just a few minutes earlier, had had an immediate impact on her and excited her sexually, she was keen to see him dominated.

Creed gasped visibly as his eyes met with Julia’s, and he couldn’t help but glance at the erect nipples which poked hard through the silk of her black gown, and of those of the other supreme looking woman who accompanied her; tall, shapely, and resplendent in her maturity, she mirrored Julia’s confident look which had, on its own, served to put him in his place earlier. Julia’s look of contentment helped ease his nerves.

“This is Ella Hempleton, she is the mistress of this house ... and my mentor in certain respects.” The two laughed softly at her veiled remark, then Ella pursed her lips and smiled at him in a way which had his cock pulsing.

“Julia has told me so much about you, despite her actually knowing a great deal about your life ... it’s as though she has you captured already, like a fly in her web.” He swallowed hard, as her smile developed a knowing wickedness and Julia moved closer, taking a firm grip on his wrist, purposely allowing her erect nipples to brush against him. Creed could not help but glance down at them, the reaction allowing her to give a planned response.

“Oh ... I know you’d like to see more of me, let’s go and see Constance and some of the other ladies ... I know they’d like to see more of you too.” Ella ushered him forward, and already feeling captive, he was asked a question by her to which she had already guessed the answer.

“ ... and does your wife know you’re here?” Creed’s balls tingled, knowing his answer would leave him open to deeper probing.

“Oh ... no ... that is, I’m not married.” His cock now stood harder than ever as the response resulted in Julia’s clasp of his wrist tightening, and a wistful look toward the heavens from her. She then grinned and asked a question herself, licking her red lips provocatively after doing so.