Chapter 2

Madam Hilda Brown was true to her word, Bernice sneering with pleasure, Dominique and Juliet giving out more youthful laughter, as Dorian’s red face confirmed the depth of his humiliation as the haughty housekeeper had paraded him before her employers in a skimpy French maid’s outfit as promised. The women were as aroused as they were amused at his humiliation, seeing him don the outfit worn by other males previously, males who’d been shown a path that Dorian would now follow. With his cock already protruding from beneath the frill of the humiliatingly short skirt, as while he was made to sniff the gussets of panties in the laundry basket by the stern authority of Hilda, the doorbell rang, and his strict tutor broke into a smile.

“We have a visitor! ... you’ll come with me and answer the door!” He gasped and swallowed hard at this new level of humiliation, feminised by women in authority, he would now be exposed as such to someone else. He baulked at first, then the command of Madam Brown had him teeter toward the stairs in the heels he’d also been made to wear.

“Now!” Her grin was matched by that of Bernice’s and the girls, as he gingerly descended the stairway, they having arrived in the hall on hearing the bell, and not wanting to miss out on his humiliation. Dorian’s mind ran riot as Madam Brown pointed her cane to the door, and with a racing heart and a firmly erect cock he pulled the door open.

His cock pulsed all the more, as there, stood smiling with both delight and a look of utter contempt for him, was Madam Eunice Winter, owner of the nightclub which had been instrumental in his capture, and she more than happy to continue provide information on suitable males such as Dorian - and so many before him - feeble examples of hopelessly submissive men who’d then provide the ultimate entertainment sought by so many assertive women. Her delight grew at seeing him already feminised and being put to good use, the journey to his absolute breaking beginning. Madam Brown then excited her all the more, on first pointing her cane to the door and motioning the new maid to close it, before barking a command.

“Curtsey for our guest! ... Immediately!” The women laughed cynically as he clumsily effected the command, his humiliation ripe, as he teetered and stooped in obedience ... that humiliation increased tenfold, and his awe at his predicament taken to an extreme, as Madam Winter revealed her agents had been busy the night before.

“I see you have him nicely domesticated already ... so apt, as my girls entered his residence last night and ensured there was nothing there which would lead anyone to the club...” His balls and anus tingled at the thought of women going through his things, confirming further that his enslavement was permanent, and bringing his cock up hard as her smile broadened on her continuing.

“ ... the techy girl was soon into his computer and tablet, erasing any mention of the club, and then finding just the sort of masturbation material we’d hoped for ... which they found most satisfying...” His cock dribbled a sticky thread of pre-cum at the degrading thought of girls laughing at what he’d downloaded ... then he nearly came as she took the cane from Madam Brown and flexed it in her hands as she sneered theatrically.

“There were pictures taken by him at the club ... of both Bernice and I...” Bernice smirked with triumph as the redhead continued with her own sense of smug satisfaction.

“ ... taken without our permission...” She cut the air with her cane, having his anus clench harder at the intrusive but now erotically appreciated plug as she had him squirm further.

“ ... and just what did you do with those illicit pictures ... mixed among a portfolio of women with whips and the like?’ He reddened all the more and swallowed hard again, having the lush feeling of a naughty schoolboy caught red handed by the headmistress, and sorely deserving a cane applied by righteous authority as he blurted out what they already knew.

“I ... I ... I masturbated over them!” The women laughed with contempt, Bernice and Eunice thrilled by their triumph of having a male who’d masturbated over their images, now dressed before them as a maid, dominated and ripe for not just breaking, but the receipt of a punishment which would see him perform an ultimate spend for them ... and so many other women whose satisfaction would be so justly guaranteed. Eunice was not finished with him yet though.

“Before I take you upstairs for the caning you so thoroughly deserve, I’ll have the ladies know what else you had depictions and tales of!” She sneered with spiteful scorn as she showed the women print offs of some she’d found on his computer, enjoying his shame as he gasped at her illuminating just what had him come hardest. Bernice, Dominique, Juliet, and Hilda all laughed contemptuously, but with a certain satisfied sexual arousal, Dorian more red faced than ever - but equally thrilled at his cutting humiliation - as the women were shown pictures, mock ups, Ai, and some authentic, of males hanged and executed in various ways by women. Madam Eunice took a cane from the stand in the hall and flexed it as she continued.

“His favourite collection of stories all involve the downfall, humiliation, and snuffing of males at women’s hands...” She pursed her lips and cut the air with her cane.

“ ... and of course, the galleries of women delivering just punishment with cane and whip were endless.” Dorian’s exposed cock perked high from below the frilled skirt, as Bernice spoke in a darkly erotic tone.

“So perfect for his initiation at Crampington next Thursday then, it’s a sauna evening I do believe ... an opportunity for him to show off the stripes he’s about to be blessed with!” He quivered on his heels, his balls tingling at what ‘Crampington’ was, and what thrills a sauna could hold, as Bernice then barked a command which he’d duly obey.

“Up those stairs now! ... Lie on the bed face down! ... Madam Eunice is going to make you pay for masturbating over her, and such filth!”. The women all laughed as he stumbled quickly up the stairs in the maid’s outfit he’d wear all week before visiting Crampington House. The women’s cunts oozed with arousal as they urged him up the stairs for a severe caning ... their sexual excitement was acute, in knowing that Crampington would be where he’d be interred, and not just visit, and would be the last place he knew, put to good use as he was completely broken ... then providing that ultimate thrill of absolute submission for they and so many other delighted women.

The woman who’d had her husband broken by Dominatrix Madam Anne Stockwell, has been true to her word. As the stern dominatrix had a paying male wish he’d gone elsewhere that day as he sucked the polythene into his mouth again and again, seeking air as Anne held the bag over his head with a deathly grip, all she could think of was her first visit to Crampington House later. She sneered with triumph as the bound and wriggling male held captive by her body weight, jerked convulsively between the clasp of her broad and mature thighs, as he shot his mess in defeat to her superiority ... and the exquisite theatre of actual death at her hands.

As the hapless male came close to unconsciousness, disgracing himself liberally to the sheets as he showed Anne the depth of his masochistic pleasure at her torture, she reluctantly allowed him air as his orgasm peaked, grinning wickedly as she stole the edge of his submission from him ... having him know that death was not to be his today, and that she, was in absolute control of his destiny. Already nicely aroused, her thoughts went to what outfit she’d wear as she pulled the bag from his head and reprimanded him in a curt tone, which ensured he’d return once again and pay for further punishments.

“There! ... I hope that was sufficiently close to death for your liking...” She sneered at him as he scurried from beneath her on being released from his bonds, and awkwardly fingered the wad of notes from his wallet as he dressed, his spent cock already rising at the thought of another visit as her tone darkened.

“Just remember, a pathetic body like yours can easily be disposed of ... maybe next time, eh?”. Her cunt tingled at the taunt as he struggled with his buttons, his anus contracting and dilating as the fresh memory of his near unconsciousness thrilled him, the sincerity of her tone having him believing she just might see to that darkly perverted desire he held ... not knowing that her sincerity was due to a promise elsewhere she lusted for. Her cunt was in full arousal as she thought on the leather outfit, and awarded the cur a further treat before he left.

“You’ll kiss my feet before you leave...” She grinned with a dark contempt for him as he showed his excitement in this extra treat, not hesitating in dropping to his knees and crouching down to kiss the feet of a woman who’d dominated him thoroughly, and now continued to do so.

“ ... you’ll be prompt on attending your next appointment ... which may be your last...” She sneered all the more as he gratefully lapped at her feet, already longing to masturbate many times until that next appointment, as she taunted him further on pointing him to the door.

“Just bear that in mind ... and don’t make any long term appointments.” She sighed with an egotistical pleasure at the level of her own spite; there was nothing she enjoyed more than taking males to the brink of death, then taunting them with their pathetic weakness ... nothing more that is, than the thought of actually snuffing them, which till now had been a sexual fantasy. As she slipped on her leather skirt over her sheer black stockings, her cunt bulged in her silken panties as she thought on what Crampington held for her. The woman she’d spoken to on making her call, had been most specific and welcoming with it, on mentioning the name of the woman who’d invited her to Crampington House, and the invitation with full membership had arrived the following day. The day of invitation had now arrived, and Madam Anne Stockwell had never been more thrilled in all her 60 years.

The directions she’d been given assisted no end in finding the exclusive but elusive venue; on reaching a suitably rural area, a sign directing her first down a ‘No through road’ indicating no more than a ‘Blake’s Farm’ led her down past what looked like derelict barns, to an unmarked turn off down which she proceeded as directed. On going through a few tree lined turns which obscured any view ahead, she came to a gate which prevented further progress to the uninvited. Placing the card she’d been sent against a device neatly obscured below an ivy clad letter box, the ornate gates swung open, and the the road beyond suddenly widened and opened out. Her cunt tingled with a strangely excited awe on looking in the rear view mirror, to see the grounds were lined by an inaccessible wall, the gate equally inaccessible ... not only were the uninvited kept out, there would be no escape for those without an access card.

Hidden from view at the gate by a turn through dense trees, an imposing red sandstone manor house come stately home came into view, nestling in a valley as though built to be secluded, its bold frontage and neat lawns at odds with its reclusive proximity. She sighed with sexual anticipation on receiving the warm smile of a woman in jodhpurs as she drove past her, the horsewhip wielding woman having what was obviously a male in a doggie suit being led on a leash. On following the gravel drive further on, she noted smiling women on a lawn being served by a somewhat cumbersome looking maid, whilst they watched a naked male kneeling at their feet, tending their toes. On the drive leading her through an arch, she found the area obviously reserved for parking, many luxury vehicles lined up, indicating the sort of clientele in attendance.