Chapter 4

As Anne thrashed a deserving male before his Mistress’s delighted eyes at the plush apartment which was also her domain of dominance and correction, the male was made to feel her vigour as her mind was eternally on one male at Crampington House. She swiftly brought the wretch to tears, bringing applause from his Mistress, his weeping filling Anne with satisfaction as he was then given an extra vigorous caning to ensure he knew the lush submission of utter defeat. As the snivelling male was allowed to squirm and flex his freshly striped buttocks, Anne viewed the cage and anal bar device that she’d presented to the Mistress on a prior visit - inspired by that which that certain male on her mind was now wearing - to halt his masturbation and prevent his relief of seed, which he now squirmed in after disgracing himself when brought to tears.

“How did you, and he, find the cage and comforter? ... I trust it has secured his absolute obedience.” The Mistress sneered with contentment as he continued to snivel, his mind brought to the attention of the cruel, but submissively thrilling device which he now felt naked without ... and longed to be refitted after punishment, the device which had him perpetually aroused whilst being presented as her submissive property, at formal functions such as restaurant visits with other dominant women ... the barbs fitted in the cruel cock cage which teased an eternally masochistic erection, and the anal bar and plug, ensuring his anus was kept spread and aware of perpetual enslavement.

“That delicious device has been worth it’s weight in gold, he used to have a cage and plug which served to remind him that both were worn in unison, and both confirmed his service to me ... she grinned wickedly as she eased of her panties and fangled them close to the still weeping cur’s nose.

“ ... but the bar on this one holds both so nice and tight, with the polished strut between the two allowing him an extra squirm in obedience ... he knows just how beaten he is at every moment.” She sneered contentedly as she eased the gusset of her panties, liberally moistened by her heady sexual arousal on seeing her property whipped to tears, he, sniffing eagerly through his tears and longing to lick the cunt which had perfumed the fabric.

“There! ... sniff the cunt of who owns you! ... I might not have been the woman who whipped you, but it was I that demanded it ... and, so thoroughly enjoyed it, as you can smell!” Anne grinned with spite as his meagre cock poked high, and his stern owner barked a command at him.

“Masturbate! ... take this last opportunity to do so! Show this lady just how much you appreciated her whip ... before you’re caged for at LEAST another month!” Anne smirked with satisfaction at her emphasis that he’d not play with his miniscule prick for a minimum of one month but likely more, as he stropped wildly whilst snorting like an animal at the gusset, the bold dominatrix who’d thrashed him, now showing him the device he’d soon be wearing again, her smirk of contempt at his humiliation, bringing the seed quickly up from his balls in an ecstasy of submission to superior womanhood.

Both women laughed cynically at his pathetic disgrace, as his face contorted behind the gusset and the white semen jetted plentifully from his cock, their laughter at him extending his orgasm, his still stinging flesh having him spurt lustily in an erotic defeat he so thoroughly enjoyed, and which the women were patently aware of, their delight in their contempt for him, fully justified as he jerked and writhed in confirming he was a beaten cur.

With his cock still dribbling as he eased from his orgasm, he was shown no respite from the dominance of his wife and Anne, the panties whisked away from his nose, and with the scent of the cunt of the woman who owned him still in his nostrils, his still enlarged member was forced into the tiny cage while he gasped for air, on the tight bar being forced between his legs ... and the generously broad dome of the anal plug, squeezed home with curt pleasure by his wife and the stern Anne. With the plug holding his anus wide in a salute of defeat to womanhood, the bar nursing his crotch as held his manhood in miniscule confinement within the cage, his captured cock swelled to the maximum the device would allow, the barbs within creating a harmonious stimulation with the plug, ensuring his mind bowed to the erotic status of constant chastity and ownership demanded by his feminine owner.

Anne smirked with curt pleasure at the mixed signs of pleasure and defeat contorting the beaten husband’s face, whilst his wife stood cross- armed over him in a stance of contented dominance, as he gingerly reclaimed his clothes whilst his senses adjusted to the cruel but justly fitted device. His humiliation for the day was far from over though, Anne s irking further as his wife addressed him in a suitably commanding and sincere tone.

“Hurry up and get those clothes on smartly! ... we’ve that dinner date don’t forget, we don’t want to keep the ladies waiting...” She grinned spitefully as he hurriedly tied his shoes, grimacing slightly as the posture had the device tease cock and anus simultaneously.

“ ... they’re all waiting to see you, and are so keen to have you relate in great detail, about your visit to see Anne today.” His dribbling helmet pushed hard against the barbs in a desire to come again, his mind tortured by the masochistic pleasure of knowing it would be a long time before he was allowed such ecstasy again, whilst the dull ecstasy of being owned and secretly thrilled at chastity imposed by a woman, with the further thrill of self humiliation before other women, excited his senses as he sheepishly followed his dominant wife to the door, the spiteful chuckling of his wife and the woman who’d just thrashed him to tears, enhancing his lust for further shaming.

Anne smirked with sexual satisfaction on watching him leave with the woman who was both his wife and mistress, to be made to spread the word of how efficient she had been with cane and whip, before strutting in her tight leather skirt and stilettos, with cunt nicely moist, to pick up the post which had arrived whilst she thrashed her client’s cur. She grinned with acute pleasure on noting handwriting on a pink envelope that she had become more than familiar with, due to her association with Crampington House ... that of Madam Ursula Wichstaff’s, just the sight of the unopened envelope exciting her. Whilst the inflicting of pain upon males, and taking them near death by asphyxiation was what thrilled her sexually, there was one supreme ecstasy she yearned to experience ... and knew exactly what message the envelope would contain.