Chapter 1

The mature and buxom woman sneered with a certain sexual triumph, as she ventured to secure his place at the Women’s Guild of Correction.

“Yes, caught kneeling and sniffing soiled panties from the laundry basket ... but not the maid’s! ... mine! ... confirming his uncontrollable desire for mature femininity” He cowered as the stern admissions woman, pursed her lips and sighed with a spiteful pleasure as she gleefully added his name to the successful list, whilst the mature woman who’d sealed his fate, added extra spice, cementing that fate.

“ ... he’d singled mine out purposely ... and disgraced himself most liberally whilst his nose attended my gussets!” He erected hard at her belittling, knowing the pleasure broadcasting his pathetic urges gave her, a humiliation which thrilled him too. The admissions woman smirked as she shook her hand in confirmation of his and her’s acceptance to the Guild, which he’d soon learn would be far from ‘correctional’ in the true sense ... but would enhance the sexual pleasures of strictly domineering women, in putting him to good use.

“I take it you’ve had him know your ‘displeasure’ domestically?” The mature owner of the cur crossed her arms under her ample breasts, lifting the fleshy and slightly saggy orbs to display erect nipples poking through the fabric of her blouse in sexual arousal.

“Oh yes, he’s been caned and whipped regularly, and most satisfactorily ... and I’ve taken to only wearing panties on days before expected female company, with ... shall we say, similar attitudes to mine, are due to visit ... he’s made to perform before them, and they then readily offer their assistance in disciplining him with the cane, their contempt for him having been aroused by his weakness.” The admissions woman smirked with pert satisfaction as the male cowered on his knees before them both, knowing the humiliation would be exciting him. The officious woman now delighting in humiliating him herself.

“And on those days where you wear no gusset to be adorned by the scent that this cur milks to?” The mature woman’s feeling of triumph was tangible as she extolled the virtues of her training of him so far.

“I allow him to sniff at my bare cunt, sometimes at random, whenever the whim takes me ... and always after I’ve relieved my bladder upon the pan, when he’s allowed to lick me clean as well as sniff...” The admissions woman scoffed theatrically, nicely aroused at the thought, as his owner sneered down at him, her smug pompousness rising with every sordid revelation.

“ ... and depending upon his level of obedience on any given day, I’ll sometimes allow him to masturbate in gratitude for the task ... before caning him for it, of course.” The admissions woman smirked longingly at the cowering male, her contempt for him awarding her a further lush and decidedly sexual arousal of her own, and eager to try him out herself.

“So why have you decided to join the Guild and bring him here? ... I’m certainly glad you did, and so will so many other women of the Guild” His owner grinned, knowing that the question was more for her property’s ears, rather than hers, her reasons, as a sexually dominant woman most obvious. The male gasped and bucked on his knees, on hearing that his fate would involve other women anonymous to him, as his buxom and domineering owner smiled broadly whilst giving her response.

“Like many other women, there’s only so much I can do to ‘correct’ him at home, so few facilities ... and having been made aware of this institution by some of those friends who enjoy disciplining him ... and the fact that I may freely sample other males requiring guidance here, I couldn’t wait to offer him up as my reason for joining.” The admissions woman picked a cane from her desk and awarded the kneeling male a cursory swipe to his flank.

“Strip naked! ... now! ... we’ll have you leashed and shown to some of our members immediately!”

Don Cleaton had long had a deeply sexual penchant for older women; on casually dating girls of his own age and visiting their homes, he’d found himself masturbating over their mother’s, especially those who had a sharp authority, awaking his lust for submission to the firm hand of matriarchal women. His destiny was determined on his letting his guard down, with respect to his submissive nature, to a girl who soon ended their casual relationship, not being particularly partial to domination ... and noting that Don seemed to have more interest in her mother than he should have. On discussing the situation over a drink with some of her more intimate friends, which inevitably led to a looser tongue, one young lady in particular, was more than slightly aroused sexually, on hearing the girl’s distain.

“He’d beg for sex ... he was such a wimp at times ... and unlike other men I’ve had, he’d go out of his way to stay indoors at home with me when mother was in, I’m sure he wanted to be mothered.” Whilst the other girls their sniggered in an ignorance to a situation which they didn’t fully understand, the plump and womanly Jayne Aster perked to a pert arousal on recognising traits of a submissive male, instilled in her by her stepmother ... who was more than partial herself to dominating males of any age. She soon secured his name, and the haunts he frequented, and sought him out.

Don was already in a submissive heaven as he lapped at the plump and suitably stern Jayne’s cunt, she having demanded the stimulation, and with her eyes already roaming toward other male suitors, she was more than ready to introduce her latest find to her stepmother, as she came in a gloriously satisfying orgasm. She recovered, sighing, her sated cunt wide, and displaying a poking clitoris as she pointed her finger to the floor with a stern look ... and as per the routine he’d been taught, Don knelt on the floor between her broad thighs, and masturbated as she held those thighs back, allowing him to sniff at her cunt and anus, both having seen the obedient service of his tongue. She grinned wickedly as he jerked on his knees in a submissive aura whilst stropping his meagre cock vigorously, and ensuring he came plentifully.

“I’m going to take you to my mother’s, to see if she approves of you ... having divorced my father due to his inadequacies, she likes to vet my boyfriends to ensure they’re right for me, and is always happy to have male company.” Though Don had not yet seen Madam Hortense Aster, his mind thrilled to the fantasy of an older woman, and Jayne sneered with a ripe contempt, and feminine triumph, as he jetted his seed liberally in surrendering the content of his balls to her ... and the thought of a mature woman who’d disposed of what she saw as an inadequate husband.

Her sneer broadened with a spiteful contentment, as her announcement, made whilst he was in the throws of a submissive orgasm, had him spurt and surrender more seed than he usually would, thrilled at the prospect of being able to wank covertly over an older woman ... though Jayne already knew he’d come whilst her stepmother was fully aware of it, and under her terms.

“You’ll bring a bag of things, as she lives out of town, and we might stay a few days ... dependent on her approval of you, of course.” Jayne already knew she’d more than approve, given his willingness to submit to her and lick her anus without question, and she’d already told another male to meet her at the address, to add extra cruel spice to humiliate Don and show him he was beyond he requirements ... the tease of rejection, something her stepmother had taught her, and a dominant tool she had used many times. The thrill of seeing male rejection at her whim, as potent each time as the previous occasion, the satisfaction it gave her, bringing a tingle to her cunt with its cruelty. The new male would not be introduced to her stepmother though, not just yet.

Don’s mind ran riot, his erection uncontrollable within his underwear, as Jayne arrived outside his apartment in the sporty convertible which had been gifted her by her stepmother, the plump and authoritative young woman, tooting the horn immediately she arrived, demanding instant attention from the male she owned, and hoping that eyes from other residences would see him scurry out at her behest. The bitchy girl smiled with satisfaction as curtains and blinds were moved in various windows, from which faces appeared, a haughty looking woman giving a half sneer on seeing her neighbour, whom she’d longed suspected was a wimp - and one she’d like to have across her lap for some well deserved discipline - hurry down the path at the command of a wagging female finger. Don’s glance back at the property did not help quell his erection, on seeing the smile of his mature neighbour ... whom he’d often masturbated over when fantasising about her possible authority.

As a single woman of a certain age, she didn’t get sexual thrills too often, but Jayne’s pointing finger of direction, visible scorn, and obvious control over the male had her mature cunt nicely aroused. As the car pulled away, she closed the curtains again, and immediately sauntered into her bedroom, and opening a draw, sighed with anticipation as she pulled out her favourite dildo from it, her elegantly manicured fingers caressing the phallic like dome as she slipped her panties off. With the thought of obvious domination so fresh on her mind, she moaned gently with acute sexual pleasure, on parting her legs and slipping the nub of the dildo through the moistened crevice of her aroused cunt. Ms. Agatha Cranmer came with exquisite sexual satisfaction, her decision to confront the male when the opportunity arose, enhancing her already wholesome orgasm no end.

Jayne smirked with a satisfaction of her own, whilst the red faced Don still pondered the look his mature neighbour had given him. He’d never dared approach her in any way, she seemed such a homely woman ... but that teasing look of obvious enjoyment she’d given him, at seeing him ordered sharply by a girl, meant he could never see her as homely again. His day had already started with an unexpected thrill, and Jayne would ensure there’d be more to follow. She casually eyed him up and down as she drove, anxious to belittle him.

“Do you think you’re dressed appropriately for meeting my Stepmother?”. She sneered contentedly on watching him fidget and blush again, as he felt the casual but neat attire he’d chosen.

“Should I have ... have worn, something else?” She laughed out loud at making him feel uncomfortable, then sneered at him as she drove the car deeper into the hills above the town, and its grandiose residences.

“I don’t think it’ll matter what you’re wearing ... you’ll be scrutinised thoroughly just the same.” His balls tingled wildly at her retort, and the sneering laughter that went with it ... and the thought of being addressed by an independent and mature woman.

Madam Cordelia Aster was already enjoying company, as she glanced wistfully out of the upper French windows which enjoyed the illumination of the ornate balcony, across the lawns to the driveway, aroused already, with the prospect of a male she’d teach obedience ... and who’d be key in the little proposition she’d been discussing with some like-minded friends, and would now continue.

Cordelia’s clitoris poked at her panties as she strutted in the black silken trouser-suit she’d chosen, its snug fit emphasising her shapely mature buttocks and expressing her camel-toe with feminine distinction. The lacy legs billowed gently with her strut on tall heels, their half transparency allowing a teasing view of her milky white and shapely legs which belied the maturity of her actual years, her sighing smile from red lips complimenting her red hair, warmly accepted by her female visitors, who were keen to have her engaged in the hedonistic decadence of a covert society, of which they were already members.

A smiling and shapely maid topped up a wine glass with a rich red wine held by Madam Sybil Carling, a blonde matriarch of some sixty years, plump and haughtily dominant, her smirk at the maid’s shapely backside as moved across to the other guest, reminding Cordelia that her mature friend was partial to the domineering of both sexes ... though males, of course, received extra special venom from her. The host grinned as the maid, who was fully aware of Sybil’s preferences, which she was also partial to and had obliged the mature woman before, kept her tall legs straight and her pert backside high, as she topped up Madam Celia Hardcastle’s glass.