Chapter 7

Dorian Thorpe’s cock now constantly dribbled pre-cum now that he knew he had just the one more day to live, his anus tingling with a lusty fear as he continually thought on the image of the gallows he’d hang on, hanged by the magnificent Madam Anne Stockwell,, whose pleasure in doing so had him longing to masturbate ... though he knew he’d be denied orgasm till the rope and the audience of pleased women demanded it of him. Though his confined bell lusted for the stimulation which would allow him to disgrace himself, the barbs which cruelly pierced it allowed him the delicious pain of denial, and the actual pain which granted him masochistic pleasure as he thought on the gallows whilst Anne whipped him.

He now knew no relief from the attentions of his Mistress and the other women, especially those who’d had the lush sexual thrill of witnessing his face when the confirmation of his destiny upon the rope was realised by him ... and then witnessed his orgasm which confirmed he had duly earned his place on the gallows and so thoroughly deserved it. Anne was relentless with the whip now, wanting to show the women he was now so frequently paraded before that he was truly beaten and punished perpetually. As the day of her absolute triumph over him grew closer, her contempt grew stronger, resulting in her relishing each application of the whip as she striped his flesh.

Though brought to tears which enhanced the sadistic Anne’s relish, he far from rued the day he’d been brought to Crampington House, and longed to know it’s most covert arena for that final ecstacy at feminine hands, Anne tugging him through the door to face the day’s inspection from contemptuous femininity ... and her cunt in high arousal, confirming the depth of her desire with a sultry and pompous sneer.

“Ohhh ... I can’t wait to put that noose about your neck, after leading you up to the gallows!...” She laughed to herself, almost sighing with intense sexual pleasure at one point, on revealing her sadistic thoughts to him.

“ ... I’m so going to love it if you show reluctance on the day ... fearing the death on the rope from which there’ll be no escape ... I’d be thrilled if you disgrace yourself that way.” His cock boned at the cruel spikes as he thought on how showing his fear of being exhibited on high would excite the spite and contempt of every woman there, showing them he truly deserved to hang. Walked into one of Crampington’s finest and expansive lounges, his anus tingled lustily as the eyes of many women took in his still tearful face and freshly striped flesh, contrasting deliciously with the white silk shroud in which he’d hang. As his eyes took in the tall heels, long pantyhose clad and crossed legs, short leather skirts, and all manner of the symbols of feminine dominance, the applause at his arrival rang out with enthusiasm.

No applause or greeting was greater than that offered by the group of severe women who’d made the event possible, and the applause toward them also, from the multitude of women anonymous to Dorian, women who’d not be anonymous to his display on the rope, was greeted with smug satisfaction from those women. Madam Eunice Winter, the spiteful redhead who’d seen to the permanent demise of several males in securing the nightclub she now owned, and whose feminine agents had been successful in securing the depictions of hangings he’d been masturbating over - thus further confirming his suitability for exhibition on high - viewed Anne’s task with a tart jealousy, having known the pleasure she was to experience the following day. Dorian’s balls tingled in submissive honour to her confident and pompous presence as she addressed Anne, on that applause fading from an excited female audience.

“I do hope you’ll have him beg you to hang him...” Dorian swallowed hard, his cock perking with the lush humiliation it would award him, his ears conscious of the reverberation murmurs of approval emanating from the crowd of watching women, the redhead’s eyes turning them for a moment, her bloody red lips pursed with a pert and sincere pleasure.

“ ... many of the women here witnessed my dominance over a former male partner ... before his mask of pathetic and final surrender joined the others...” She paused for a moment, licking her lips as she looked down at the pathetically submissive figure, leashed and freshly striped, allowing him to savour her words.

“ ... I had him beg to know the noose, beg me to hang him ... and when he did, it gave me an arousal like no other ... I still masturbate over the memory of it, I just wish I’d recorded it ... the pathetic pleading tone he gave out had me doubly keen to award him the rope!” Madam Bernice Chesterton sneered with spite as she flicked her hand with the crop she held, eager to use it on him, her cunt warming to the idea as she watched Anne ponder the idea, aroused by it herself, as Dorian bit hard on the ball-gag he’d been silenced with, sensing it would soon be removed.

“He masturbated over depictions of hangings often enough ... so it should come easy enough to him.” His anus clenched hard at the generous and well used plug, so acquainted with the anal grip of males who’d enjoyed the rope, as Anne pulled his head up by the leash ... the sneering eyes of so many women who’d require varied means of satisfaction from him, looked on him with spiteful enthusiasm as she grinned as she unbuckled his gag, then letting it drop from his dribbling mouth, flexed her whip, and raised it high.

“Well? ... you’ve heard how the women here demand it ... beg! ... beg me to hang you!” Dorian’s captive cock pulsed hard at the barbs as he thought on the the intense and reducing humiliation her demand would award him, his momentary hesitation at her command, rewarded with a sharp stroke of her whip ... his words then bringing sordid and contemptuous delight to his gaping female audience.

“I beg you! ... beg you to hang me!...” The scoffing, derision and cynical laughter was intersected by further strokes of her whip as she revelled in her triumph over him, her cunt hot and wet in the latex as he cowered at her feet in absolute defeat, her spite not sated yet as she sneered down at him.

“Madam Anne Stockwell! ... I want to her it!” The combination of the whip’s sting and the cutting humiliation had his bell ooze pre-cum in a lust for more as he humiliated himself further in acknowledgement of her crushing power over him.

“I beg you! ... beg you Madam Anne Stockwell ... to hang me! ... Mistress!” The women jeered and applauded, their leering smiles of utter contempt adding to his reddened face. She pulled hard on his leash, lifting his head high for all to see and enjoy, both savouring, yet with her ego irritated by his unrequested addition of ‘Mistress. She sneered and readied her whip as his face was enjoyed by contemptuous femininity.

“It will be my utmost pleasure to oblige your request ... and you’ll lick every cunt here to show your thanks for being allowed to request it by your audience!” Both madams Eunice and Bernice pouted their lips with sadistic pleasure, ensuring Dorian witnessed their triumph as Anne commenced his thrashing, his cock pulsing at the barbs in masochistic desire for the rope he’d begged for, as he saw their looks of sexual contentment at seeing to his further humiliation. Each made sure he saw the dropping of their panties as he received the strokes he’d earned, Anne, all too ready to oblige in seeing their cunts licked first, in lieu of their delivering him to her, to know the rope at her hand.

The pleasure in pain, and the richly arousing aura of being whipped before a feminine audience he’d already humiliated himself before, was all too much and he was soon reduced to tears by Anne’s whip, bringing the latex clad matriarch’s cunt to a full arousal with a further contempt for him. As she continued to punish his already striped flesh, the jeering audience of women relished seeing him dance on the rope all the more as the cowering Dorian watched a grinning Bernice sit upon a padded pedestal and spread her broad thighs. Anne panted and sighed through her exertions, and pointed her whip to the grinning Madam Chesterton as she let his leash drop.

“Get to your duty! ... NOW! ... you snivelling cur!” The array of dominant womanhood jeered further, many nursing their cunts already, as the broken and tearful Dorian crawled on all fours toward the sneering Bernice’s exposed cunt, and sniffed hard at it’s hotly seasoned whiff of pert arousal, the scent and sight of the shaven sex of a woman he’d masturbated over, ensuring the barbed cock cage awarded his confined manhood the punishment it truly deserved. As he sniffed and awaited the command, Bernice savoured the moment. She had been the initial key in bringing him to Crampington, and she would enjoy seeing him hang as much as Anne would in performing the task ... his open admission to having masturbated over her obvious dominance without permission, awarding her a haughty and sadistic pleasure as he cowered before her, sniffing hard and longing to taste her cunt.

“LICK!” The women applauded as a broad grin of satisfaction spread across her face, whilst Dorian pushed his lips and tongue up to her lushly moistened crevice, and swept his tongue up the juiced and aroused sex, the flavour matching the glorious scent in its keeping those barbs keenly biting his tortured bell, Bernice then enjoying a taunt as richly as the obedience of his tongue.

“Ohhh ... well ... you spent your seed over fantasising about being dominated by me...” She gave out a wistful moan as her words prompted an extra urgency from his tongue, gracing her clitoris for the first time, then continued her taunt.

“ ... how does it feel now you’re licking my cunt in submission for real ... knowing I’m going to enjoy seeing you snuffed on the gallows tomorrow!” Her curt and spiteful words had Dorian lap at her clitoris in a flurry of masochistic defeat, earning the contempt from her he so thoroughly deserved, she then lifting her thighs back further, earning applause from the feminine audience, guessing her next move as Dorian felt a manicured finger slip down to greet his tongue at her clitoris.

“Lick my arsehole! ... It’s all you’re worthy of! The women watched with glee as threads of pre-cum dribbled incessantly in sticky threads from the slot in the barbed cage, confirming the intense masochistic pleasure in humiliation that the condemned male couldn’t hide, as his tongue slipped across the lush ribbing of the dominant Bernice’s hot and savoury pucker, his cock having perked at the deliciously perfumed anal scent, and his willingness to do so in absolute obedience as he tasted its delightful tangs, adding to the lush humiliation as Bernice let out a sneering laugh at his pathetic submission.

Eunice stood ready with the whip he’d receive before having him service her cunt, as did many of the other women, as she watched Dorian’s tongue probe deep into the tight heat of Bernice’s anus, earning further contempt in showing that he truly knew his place beneath womanhood ... his snivelling as he stretched his tongue in his commitment to pleasing femininity as his duty, whilst thoroughly enjoying absolute servility, had them flexing their whips in anticipation as Bernice came, her cry of victorious ecstasy prompting his pressing his face hard to her moistened crevice, and signalling that his first task of a long night was complete.

As he felt the cut of Eunice’s whip, his mind went to condemned males who’d spend their last night in solitude, perhaps fighting sleep in an attempt to enjoy what last hours they had left ... as his tears were brought forth by the mature redheads whip, and his ears treated to the contemptuous laughter of women awaiting their turn, he knew that no solitude would be awarded him before enjoying the rope, it was going to be a long and tortuous night ... which he was more than grateful for.

As the first light broke through one of the uncurtained windows, a meagre sense of fear, and one of excitement, coursed through Dorian’s mind as many of the women toasted the day’s arrival, others smoked drugged cigarettes, but all eyes looked upon him with an intense anticipation of receiving satisfaction, on the latex clad Anne leading him to that window on all fours. Her voice was curt and sincere as he peered at the dawning light through eyes which had been made to weep in earnest throughout the night, by the cutting whips of feminine dominance.

“Look, it’s the last day you’ll see ... I hope you’re ready to hang, the gallows are as ready for you as we all are!” Her cynical laughter was echoed by the matriarchal audience, as she then took immense pleasure in unzipping the latex flap about her lushly pronounced camel-toe, revealing her deliciously wet cunt, hot with arousal for the deed she was to perform. She stepped close and had Dorian sniff hard at its scent, his cock bulging hard in the barbed cage at its gloriously feminine whiff, despite his having smelt, tasted cunt, and been deservedly chastised and dominated by other women all night ... his anus clenched tight at the plug as he sniffed at Anne’s scent, this was the woman who’d hang him, and the whiff of her cunt was savoured as he sniffed harder, wanting to know its taste in absolute defeat to her. Anne grinned spitefully on guessing his desire ... which she’d deny with pleasure, but he’d still know the taste of her cunt.

As she teased his nose with the bulging scent of her hot and sweaty cunt, he felt the urgency of the other women as they now all stood uniformly and jostled for position on their tall heels to get close enough to hear Anne’s taunts as the male who’d soon hang for them was teased with being shown the light of his last day, and allowed to sniff at Madam Anne Stockwell’s cunt. She sneered with contentment as she pulled his face closer to her cunt with one hand on his leash, and with the other, lifted the ball-gag to the liberally lubricated and oozing labia, sighing as she eased the ball of the gag up and down the slick length of her slot, having all sides of the sphere shine with her sexually excited juices as it nursed her poking clitoris on each firmly applied stroke. Her sigh increased as she slipped the lubricated ball into his mouth, and watched him suck and bite at the lush taste of the sphere in absolute obedience as she strapped it tight.

“There! ... a taste of my sex, and a taste which confirms we’ll never hear your whining voice again...” She laughed cynically, as did the eager audience of women, on her zipping her cunt up once more, to have it feel the caress of the soft latex, then pulling his head up on the leash to have them all enjoy the bewilderment on his gagged and silenced face.

“ ... how does it feel, to know you’ll not be able to protest, or beg for mercy when you see the scaffold and noose before you...” She sneered and cut his flank with her whip, having him jerk on the leash and please the array of dominant women witnessing his humiliation as Anne’s spite continued.

“ ... No! ... you’ve made your last beg ... and now you’re going to get just what you begged for!” The women laughed as they saw his dribbling match the tears that had been whipped from him, as he sucked and tried to work his tongue about the inner curve of the ball, excited at the final taste he’d have of the cunt of the woman who’d hang him. Their excitement built as Anne tugged his leash and had him follow her determined stride on tall heels ... on the final journey he’d make, on all fours, beaten, dominated, and destined for the gallows.

His anus clenched hard at the plug which had known the grip in fear and desire of many males before him, as his pathetic masochism savoured just how the rope would feel, as Anne too, savoured every stride despite her growing impatience to achieve her lifelong desire, the leash taut as her white shroud clad victim’s knees and wrists were shown no element of mercy on the hard floor as he was led to his death. The growing gaggle of excited women flanked him, their perfumes, both manufactured and sexual, wafted about his nose as he was awarded the last smells of aroused femininity ... many having discarded their need for underwear, liberating their cunts to the direct nursing their clitorises as they watched him displayed on high for their spiteful satisfaction.

The silken white shroud which marked him for death, billowed in a deft salutation to that fact as he was led through the double doors on that final stretch through to the corridor of masks, his bowels longing to shit the generous plug out in a lust fear and anticipation, as those serene faces who’d already known that ultimate pleasure of dominant womanhood, seemed to leer down and mock the weakness which would soon have his pathetic countenance join theirs.