Chapter 2

Creed was puzzled by the address on the card, arriving before time, he found it was the gate house to a cemetery. His heart sank as he reasoned that maybe his humiliation at Boadicea House was as far as things would go, and that this was done as a tease to teach him a lesson. However, his heart and cock pulsed when a carriage drew up, and Julia alighted with Constance, Faith, and Ella; in contrast with the black that the women had worn at the suffragette meeting, all four were dressed in brightly coloured satins, as though ready to promenade at Brighton or some such coastal resort. His ardour rose immediately on watching their tightly clad curves descend elegantly from their transport, the horses which drew it, snorting the air wildly with excitement at their scent.

Though as pleased to see him as he was her, Julia hid her pleasure behind a severe smile and pointed to her toes, her clitoris already rising with satisfaction on recalling the obedience he’d shown the few days before.

“Kiss my feet ... now!” The other women grinned as he humbled himself in public, feeling sheepish but already erecting at committing the act. She smiled at him as he lifted his head, the clatter of horses hooves announcing the arrival of another two carriages, the similarly dressed women aboard enjoying seeing him prone, some of whom were accompanied by servile males who had obviously not been given permission to express any signs of humour. As Julia allowed him to his feet, he recognised one of the women as Mistress Fairchild; she had a male with her, who looked pale but edged with furtiveness, he, like the other males, followed two steps behind their Mistresses, with heads slightly bowed. Ella grinned as she greeted the supreme woman, her yellow dress tight at the waist and hips, expressing her bust and generous buttocks superbly.

“I see you’ve brought your latest pet, Agnes ... it must be six months you’ve had him now.” Agnes turned and looked down on him with a curt smile.

“Oh yes ... I’ve brought him to see where he’ll be within the month.” His wild eyes looked longingly at her as her smile broadened, and she arched her neck, looking at his crotch and leading the eyes of the other women to the bulge he couldn’t hide.

“ ... and as you can see, he’s so looking forward to it ... aren’t you my pet?” His breathing was rapid, and he swallowed hard, the bulge in the tight trousers he’d been made to wear by Agnes, pulsing visibly.

“Oh yes Mistress...” Creed was astonished as the party started to move toward the cemetery entrance, and Agnes sneered wickedly at the male, who followed so eagerly.

“Come let’s go in ... you’ll see the sort of ceremony you’ll have earned.” Julia was pleased to see Creed take up position behind her, in keeping with the other handful of demure males present who followed their haughty and chatting female partners obediently; she was also delighted at his obvious and perverse curiosity in Agnes and her male, his mind not daring to think what she’d meant as she strutted triumphantly with him eagerly keeping step behind. As they paraded down the gravel road between the tombstones and mausoleums, her smirk continued as she saw Creed view her and her gaudily attired friends with some concern regarding respect, having noted their approach to a clergyman who stood at the head of a freshly dug grave. She could tell that her novice charge viewed this pillar of society with the respect he’d normally demand quite naturally, fearing embarrassment. Julia’s smirk turned to a delighted smile, on seeing Creed gasp visibly, as Ella strutted forward to the clergyman, who dropped to his knees before her.

Creed’s cock pulsed hard as the lush figure of the dominant woman sauntered close to the dog-collared male and pointed to her feet.

“Kiss the feet of an image of your true goddess Venus, the one we all know you truly worship.” The others gathered round and laughed as he bent to his superior and lovingly planted his lips on her shoes, though cowering in submission, Creed glimpsing the erotic pleasure on his face as he succumbed to a greater and undeniable power. Ella enjoyed his humiliation for a good half minute as he paid homage to her feet, then clapped her hands.

“Up! ... Well Reverend Ashton, are you ready to serve your goddess after our little ceremony?” He looked up to her with his hands clasped as though praying, his eyes filled with desire and the utter subservience of his manner displayed openly and so wantonly.

“Yes ... yes Mistress, I am willing to repent and feel the divine wrath of the goddess.” She sneered down at him, and sighed provocatively.

“Good, I know you’ll have earned it, and my cunt is wet with the prospect of awarding you a deserved whipping ... I know you’ll have masturbated when you were made aware of this appointment ... confess!” He squirmed a little, his face blushing with shame, but having a good glance at the array of sneering women and relishing the humiliation he’d bring on himself.

“Yes ... oh yes Mistress Ella ... I masturbated hard on learning of being blessed with your presence ... and the thought of my repentance before Venus under the whip.” The sheer lust of his shame was enhanced by the derisive laughter from each of the women there, which increased on Ella lifting his cassock to reveal his cock standing high from the nakedness below it, her smug smile one of conceited satisfaction at seeing just how earnestly he yearned for the indulgence of his masochism.

“Then you shall be duly punished before her, and with the vigour your sin demands, when the ceremony is over.” Creed’s cock met the erect generosity shown by the clergyman, on witnessing his total obedience to womanhood, the sexual pleasure of it made patently clear by his own admission - something which would have him excommunicated on the spot if known of by the pompous religious hierarchy which placed him there. Julia smirked at Creed’s obvious wonderment, whispering into his ear in a sultry tone.

“Reverend Ashton oversees our clerical needs, which are plenty. He does exactly as he’s told, amending and updating parish records to comply with our requests ... keeping records of the demise of males to assist with the public knowing that things have been ‘just so’ ... his reward for his worship of cunt and whip, which is greater than to that of any deity.” Ella let his cassock drop and allowed him to rise blushing to his feet, as the brightly clothed women turned with a smile at the sound of horses hooves upon the gravel road. A hearse drew up, its horses resplendent with their black plumed headwear standing tall, the black glass sided carriage, ominous in its duty, drawn side on for all to view the coffin within, cloaked in a black silk sheet. Another sleek black carriage drew up behind it. Creed’s balls tingled on noting that the drivers and their assistants were all female, all covered by black capes, all smiling on seeing the brightly coloured funeral party awaiting them. His erection was sustained as they discarded their capes.

Each of the funeral women were dressed in black jodhpurs which were skin tight, black heeled boots which accentuated the femininity of their legs, skimpy tight waisted back jackets which announced their breasts to the full, and tall hats from which a black lace veil obscured their eyes but not the smiles that broadcast the pleasure of their duty. The driver stood before alighting, and cracked her whip splendidly, bringing applause from the women, and a wistful shiver of pleasure from the clergyman. Julia smiled at Creed’s wide eyed appreciation of darkly erotic feminine form, as he watched the rounded buttocks and lush thighs jostle on descending the carriages, then as they turned to give a graceful bow to the party before opening the second carriage door, he saw the deliciously expressed camel-toes shown by each. The door swung open, and as as two more jodhpur clad women alighted, the males in the party were ordered to their knees.

As a smiling woman dressed in a tight crimson dress, eased her buxom curves down from the carriage, a heartfelt round of applause from the women was sent echoing about the headstones in an anything but mournful manner. Julia teased at Creed’s already astonished mind, while several of the women went to greet the new arrival, whose demeanour was that of a someone arriving at a birthday party.

“That is the widow, Mrs Eunice Downing. As you can see, she’s absolutely distraught at losing her husband, inheriting his wealth and having to revert to being Miss Eunice Drew ... not to mention losing the firm guidance that her late husband imposed on her.” He watched her cruel joy as she made a contemptuous gesture toward the occupant of the hearse, the notion of what was being said by the gleeful woman to her friends, keeping his now aching cock up hard. Julia was intent on keeping him erotically charged as he experienced this example of the new world he’d entered into, and summoned the driver of the hearse over prior to her becoming occupied in the task of removing the coffin. Creed’s bell oozed pre-cum as Julia had the smiling woman stand before him, her cunt superbly silhouetted in the tight black fabric. She knew exactly what Julia would say, and stepped obligingly close to her kneeling pet.

“You’ve seen how these ladies enjoy their duty, put your nose to her sex to see just how much.” The driver giggled playfully as Julia eased his head forward, to quell any reluctance he might offer in the name of the common decency instilled in his upbringing, enjoying feeling him quiver as his nose met the fabric in the very slot of her cunt. Creed was close to spending as he sniffed at the spicy arousal offered, the fabric hot and moist with the wetness of her essences. As she held him there, ensuring he made a good note of her scent, she smiled up at her.

“I recognise you from some of the sessions that Downing enjoyed before he earned the pleasure that brought him here ... I must say, your prowess with the whip will have helped prepare him for it most admirably.” Creed snorted hard at her cunt on hearing his Mistress’s words, and the response from the woman had his anus tingling wildly and his cock boning in dire need of relief.

“Thank you madam, I’m sure it did, and it earned me the pleasure of seeing him pay for his behaviour at the hands of Madam Fairchild ... something I’m keen to repeat.” Creed gasped as she pulled away to join the others with dispatching the coffin, her almost impudent joy cutting a bitingly erotic mark on his submissive mind, which he’d savour as much as her scent when he next spent his load. Julia added to his yearning to know that exquisite relief.

“Oh yes, many men find their way to this spot, having committed crimes against women that earns them the just reward of correction and an end to their misbehaviour ... Downing was such a case, brutal to his wife and forcing himself upon their maids ... his caning of prostitutes soon had him delve into masochism, and the trap was set.” She turned his head and had him face the male kneeling in submission at the feet of the magnificently dominant Agnes Fairchild, a dark patch now showing prominently in the drab grey material of his trousers, at the apex of the bulge he could not conceal.

“ ... and some of the men interned below, have craved being put here by a woman all their adult lives ... those fortunate enough to secure ownership by women such as Agnes, will realise the passionate lust of their desire - and as you’ve just heard, and will witness for yourself within a few days - please many other women as they achieve that divinely erotic goal.” Creed felt a lush envy for the darkly erotic sensations the male endured, his already crushed spirit exploited further by the superb Agnes as he was made to kneel closest to the grave than any of the others. His displayed position exposed him to the lusty inspection of the other women, who relished the sordid show he’d provide at her hands, as he was made to take in the disposal of one of her previous clients, as she enjoyed his masochistic torment.

Creed’s eyes now went to the buxom Eunice who gave a delighted sneer as the six women in black lifted the coffin from the hearse, and she whisked the black sheet from it. A rich applause greeted the revelation of a glass panelled coffin which allowed a final exposure of the deceased wretch inside. Face down, hooded, with ankles tied and wrists tied behind his back, his ashen flesh displayed the striping of the many lashes and canings he’d received on his breaking before his journey to the gallows, his neck reddened with the evidence of his divine struggle on the rope which had thoroughly pleased the female audience who now witnessed his disposal. It was all too much for Agnes’ appointee with her ultimate pleasure; as he saw the dominant woman’s smug smile of satisfaction at the lurid result of her handiwork, he arched his back and grunted in muted ecstasy as he spent spontaneously at what he’d soon be reduced to. His impromptu orgasm was enhanced deliciously as the women laughed at his pathetic show, the humiliation allowing him to release his seed fully in blissful submission, the stern smile of Agnes showing further satisfaction on his earning a thorough caning.