Chapter 5

Horace could almost taste the spite of the women, especially that of the more mature women such as Frau’s Luckner and Gessler, as they goaded his fate whilst he was paraded with smug pride by his new owner, and though snivelling due to the rigours of the sound whipping she’d awarded him, had been rendered keenly erect by it, and by his contemplation of being sold as a sex slave and cruelly abandoned with sadistic pleasure by his wife. Just the gentle brush of the soft fur upon Frau Luckner, and the whiff of leather from Frau Gessler as the two stood close to taunt the leashed pet, had his mind dreading, and yet yearning, the levels of sadism he’d be treated to now he was at the complete disposal of Gerda.

As the bulbous redhead stepped close and cast an ominous shadow over him, sneering contemptuously and lifting her skirt to have him study the broad expanse of her milky white thighs, the women laughed cynically as they watched his standing cock pulse and bob as his balls were stroked with the crop that had seen him spend the night before. Horace sniffed gratefully at the womanly bulges and the pronounced slot in her silky panties, wet with the arousal of seeing him hanged and then soundly whipped for spending in shame upon the rope without permission. Gerda smiled wickedly as the cock she now owned, continued to perk and pulse as Horace cowered in the flair of the skirt, daring to sniff hard at the perfumes which permeated from between those huge thighs, and lusting to know the whiff and taste of what lay between the fleshy globes of flesh behind them.

“It seems he favours some discipline from you, Agatha ... he has quite the appetite for pain and humiliation, and he’s going to have a rich diet of it here.” The redhead pressed her thighs forward and flicked his balls with the crop, amid the pleased murmurings of the feminine crowd as they concurred eagerly with Gerda’s thoughts, and added her own, which had Horace’s cock pulse in the need to spend again.

“Yes ... and he still has the impudence of the lord he once was, I can detect that ... hanging in shame will have been a sweet aperitif for him, but his spirit needs to be broken completely, and by the severest of punishments ... just look at how his cock lusts to know the taste of total defeat.” Horace shuddered and nearly spent a second load, as Gerda handed her his leash, smiling serenely.

“Then you shall begin that process Agatha, I’m sorely in need of a celebratory drink with the ladies, especially after my initiation with the whip in welcoming him as my property.” Gerda grinned as both the fur and leather Frau looked on jealously as the haughty redhead strode in suitable dominant pomp, down to the house with the Lord of Mannerly Hall leashed and following obediently on all fours to know punishment.

“Oh don’t fret so ladies, he’s here for good now, and you’ll have plenty of opportunity to have him know the desires of your control ... Agatha knows she’s not to take her lust to the point where we’d all be left disappointed, as much as her spite for him will have him thinking he won’t be around to sample your dominance.” Greta and Eva slipped away while the others enjoyed glasses of fine wine in the shadow of the gallows Horace had been so pleasingly displayed upon; they followed the redhead and smiled as they watched the cheeks of her broad backside sway with some elegance in her skirt, noting how Horace’s fixed gaze was mesmerised by its movement. They knew which room she’d go to, and the room next door had spy-holes through which they’d watch the formidable woman impose chastisement on the deserving male, in between comforting each other as they reminisced on the pleasures of leading a male to be hanged.

To say that Prudence was in a state of euphoria as she left in the cab alone, was an understatement. Her feeling of general elation, blended deliciously with the tart sexual arousal that selling her husband had given her. She had demonstrated her absolute authority over him, and the buzz it had given her in confirming his worthlessness, seeing him crushed by her indifference to his fate, took her ego to a victorious and spiteful high. The look on his face as the whimsical pleasure of her decision cut through him, and he having no choice in the matter, would stay with her forever ... and it would be the last time she saw that face.

The special significance of her hanging him at that point, brought her clitoris up hard; he might just as well have been left to dance on the rope until it’s full purpose had been achieved as far as she was concerned, he was nothing to her but a name which would bestow it’s wealth upon her, and knowing the rigorous and acutely sadistic practices of Gerda and her friends, it would probably only be a matter of time before he spent his last to be disposed of in secret. She had thoroughly enjoyed taking control of his life, assuming his property, dominating him, breaking him ... she wanted to masturbate there and then at the wholesome pleasure this final act of supreme dominance awarded her.

Her thoughts went to how she’d be received in smug and contented triumph by Anthea and Thelma, on returning to Mannerly Hall without the wretch who once owned it, and how the deed would instill in her new pet Barker, just how ruthlessly dominant she was, and how all males were expendable when owned by her. She giggled to herself as she toyed with the idea of even telling the taxi driver of her exploits, thinking of the thrill it would give her, but that just wouldn’t do. Her carnal thoughts were interrupted for a moment, as the cab swept round in arc in passing a vehicle which come to a sudden halt ahead; it was something that pointed to the fragility of Horace’s new circumstances, and indeed, the entire country he was in.

As they approached and passed, a small open topped lorry dropped its tailgate, and about ten youthful males in matching brown uniforms and black boots, descended from it carrying clubs and other blunt instruments. As the cab passed by, Prudence heard the shrieking of people from within the shop they’d entered, and the sound of breaking glass. The taxi driver just stared fixedly ahead, and said nothing, but Prudence could see he was shaking. He would not report the incident, there was no point; the perpetrators of the incident they’d just witnessed, and the authorities to whom such an event might be reported, were merging into one and the same. Her brief moment of shock at the incident, soon turned to a callous smugness on thinking what Horace might be in for; either way, he wouldn’t escape to see her again, or Mannerly Hall.

Prudence’s sense of total liberty, and her sexual elation at the way she’d achieved it, grew with every mile that elapsed between her and her abandoned husband as the train sped closer to home. She glowed with the aura it gave her already sharply honed dominance, having her view every male she saw with a suitable air of superiority, and every occasional glance from other women as she sat in proud pomp, seemed to show their understanding that she was a woman who bowed to no male. As the train stopped at the first station after passing into France, she watched a woman click her fingers and point directions at her obviously henpecked husband, after giving her just such a knowing glance, demonstrating the control she had over her male; the casual but potently indicative incident showing the true order of things, and having Prudence retire to the toilet to masturbate, over the covert but inevitable ascendency of womanhood.

Left behind in Berlin, Horace wriggled in fear of his life, gasping in air to ready himself for the further torture to come, as Agatha’s curt smile told him she was ready to descend on his face again. Bound by the ankles and with a strap holding his arms to his sides, his wriggling in vain excited her no end, as her thick thighs straddled him to lower the huge globes of flesh upon his face. There would be no escaping from the slippery folds of the ginger tufted slot, and the creamy brown pucker which stood out from the all enveloping flesh, the lush scents from both, bringing his cock up rigid despite his fear.

Agatha laughed softly as she worked herself back and forth on his face, enjoying his spluttering and snorting as his nose sought fresh air, but received only the fetid tangs of her sticky anus. Horace heard that laughter as she began to milk his cock, and he knew there’d be no release until he came; it echoed the distant laughter and chatter he could hear through the window, from the women who now owned him, and from whom there would also be no escape. His tingling anus clenched hard at the plug as he shot his mess in utter submission, Agatha laughing spitefully as the cream spat from his owned cock, drawn from him in a shameful admission of the masochism that had earned him his lot. She pressed her ample weight firmly down, as his balls surrendered to her anal scent, emphasising that total capitulation, and the perpetual and stringent dominance that he’d now suffer eternally.

The fresh coastal air which breezed up across the Dorset cliffs, had Barker shiver initially, as he was made to unload the van in the state of nakedness preferred by his feminine mentors; he in the shade most of the time, whilst Thelma and Ruby took full advantage of the sun as they marshalled him with whips, both thoroughly enjoying the glorious pleasure of their own exposure, as Barker was given a further taste of the sexual decadence that prevailed at Gallows Hill. Whilst it had become very much the norm for Ruby, taking advantage of the isolation to expose her flesh so regularly in the open, it always gave her a thrill to do so before a fresh male, and express her dominance as he was belittled by his own exposure. But for Thelma, the opportunity to show her broad hips and breasts in all their glory, as she strutted haughtily with her whip, was always a delicious thrill and a welcome removal from the tightly clad drudgery of her agency position.

Though Barker made good progress in offloading paintings and other valuables from the van, the two mature women could not resist asserting their authority over him, their dominant egos boosted by the pertly stimulating air on their flesh, he received the flick of their whips whenever the whim took them. Each woman seemed to unconsciously wish to out dominate the other, or so it appeared to Barker, as they padded barefoot on the soft lawn and flicked his flesh with their whips, just for the pleasure of it, careful not to use them in such a manner which would hinder him or have him drop whatever he happened to be carrying, but enough to inflict an encouraging sting and bolster their sadistic arousals. The hoard of goods were placed in the scullery to await the arrival of Prudence, who would decide where the item’s would be displayed in their new home, but she’d mentioned to Thelma that certain items could now be secreted away in the attic, and it was with a certain pleasure that the curvaceous woman would introduce Barker to it.