At Her Disposal
Copyright© 2015 by Midsummerman
Chapter 8
BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 8 - A Victorian gentleman's desire for the firm hand of a woman leads him into a life of servile depravity. Coerced into a situation by his lust for a servant, he experiences the strict discipline of a covert feminine society, and witnesses the harsher treatment of males who do not conform to the rigorous obedience demanded by the matriarchal order. While a new life under feminine dominance is endured by him, the journey of one who did not conform is traced as he knows the extremes of total slavery
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Mult Consensual NonConsensual Reluctant Coercion Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Rough Humiliation Sadistic Torture Interracial White Male White Female Oral Sex Masturbation Exhibitionism Analingus
Henry Trent’s indulgence in masturbation now reached a divine peak as he stropped longingly whilst sniffing at the selection of female underwear left especially for him. Once master of the household, he was now a prisoner in his own home. Collared and leashed to a bedstead, the mattress for which lay upon the floor on which he knelt and masturbated, was in a utility room far from the master bedroom which was once his, and was now his Mistress and owner’s. His only furnishing in the sparsely decorated room, was the laundry basket filled with the selection of feminine underwear, purposely selected on being soiled most liberally by their female owners at various sexually arousing activities which now prevailed at No. 12. That delicious peak of masturbation was purposely presented to Trent, to remind him that the bestial act of underwear sniffing was what had earned him his present, permanent, and thoroughly deserved position at the bottom of the household.
Though he knew he’d be thoroughly whipped for masturbating, a thought which made his task even more ardent, such was his level of submission, he sniffed hard at he deliciously scented gusset, even though he was now no stranger to the tastes of the cunt and anus that had provided the lusty aromas. Commanded by just those thoughts the women intended he should have, his cock boned rigid with the luxuriant stimulation as he thought on the gusset sniffing of the once servant, but now dominating cook, Madam Hilda Sharpe which had led to his downfall. As the seed rose from his balls, courtesy of the delicious scent of feminine arousal from the gusset at his nose, he knew he was doomed to a life of servitude to womanhood already ... and if his owner, Madam Edith Grange, tired of his usage, he faced the mock hanging before delighted womanhood, then on to Madam Kali at the City of Shadows.
Taken to the height of submission by the erotic reality that he was now that prisoner in his own home, put n that place and I instead by servant girls, whilst Madam Edith Grange usurped him as head of the household ... and was now is owner, he shot his mess high in an ecstasy of masochistic passion, the scent of her gusset taking in down where he so deservedly belonged. His masturbation was interrupted deliciously by the sneering laughter of Madam Hilda Sharpe, and the pert but spiteful Miss Bunty, who owned the door and caught him in his act of disgracing himself, their entry ensuring his final spurts were given out most vigorously in their honour, they, most pleased to see his offering of seed sent high as he miffed at he gusset.
“Well! ... what have we here!” Trent’s anus tingled wildly as the last vestiges of his more han worthy orgasm ebbed away, the look of contempt and severity on the dominant cook’s face, and the sneer of young Bunty, taking him to another sexual dimension as he viewed Hilda’s firm grip on the rattan he’d earned himself.
“Masturbation at he scent of soiled gussets again!...” Her wicked grin grew as her ego swelled with the sense of triumph at her having that bestial act lead to his downfall, and her elevation.
“He never tires of it, wallowing in self pity over its consequences ... and pleasing himself with the masochism it awards him.” Trent gasped at her cruelly true analogy of his situation, her pleasure in doing so, having his cock perk again already as he assumed a kneeling position in subservient fashion. His eyes took in the lushly mature curves of the cook as she posed in authority with hand on one hip, and the cane he’d soon know gripped tightly with the other. His initial masturbation over her when she was his servant, now paled into near insignificance in comparison with his orgasms when licking her anus after a thrashing ... an act which always delighted her, in that it earned him a further thrashing with her cane. She sneered with another delight as the spitefully dominant Bunty produced a cane she’d concealed behind her back, having is freshly spent cock perk in an effort to erect again as Hilda continued in a pompous tone.
“Today is going to be a very special and pleasing day...” She pursed her lips as he looked to the slowly panting Bunty, her breasts heaving in her eagerness to use the cane.
“ ... as you can see from Bunty’s appearance, Madam Charlotte Dupont is here today ... ready for a trip we’re all to take to the Palace.” His anus squeezed and dilated in a mixture of masochistic lust and pure fear, knowing that all visits to the Palace were indeed ‘special’ ... and his fear was that it might be special where his presence there was concerned. Hilda enjoyed watching him squirm at her teasing information, knowing he would be thinking that maybe those curtains would be drawn back to reveal a noose just for him.
“ ... and as today is already special, you’re going to have a very special thrashing from both of us ... over the bedstead! ... NOW!” The two women’s cunts blossomed into a rich and wicked arousal as Trent lay himself over the bedstead without hesitation, the former master of he house now reduced to performing obedient routines for the pleasure of former servants, his bedstead routine, one particularly appetising to Hilda and the other maids. With his legs extended and toes barely touching the floor, giving him a sense of precarious vulnerability which thrilled the maids, his arms went down to the springs on which the mattress would have laid, exposing his buttocks and thighs invitingly. Bunty’s recently discovered lust for dominance, awarded to her by this very male on his visit to her Mistress’s house, peaked wonderfully on seeing Trent’s cock erect to poke at his curved torso, in longing for her cane.
Hand on hip, the two females, one youthful, one middle aged, both sternly dominant, wasted no time in having Trent know the price for masturbating over soiled underwear. The delicious sound of the canes cutting the air with a whoosh, before impacting smartly on his shimmering flesh, had him cry out in pain and a darkly masochistic pleasure as he was swiftly reduced to tears ... those tears bringing the women’s cunts to a full arousal, and having them increase their vigour with the canes, with a sense of spitefully sadistic justification. With his arse and thighs neatly and most deservedly striped with stinging red wheals, the two sneering women panted with their exertions as they relented, pulling the weeping Trent down from the bedstead, Hilda having him kneel before er as she now rested with er back against the bedstead. She sneered with pleasure at he weeping Trent as she lifted her long skirts to reveal a cunt wet with arousal.
“You’ll lick my cunt in thanks for your caning now ... then you’ll do the same for Bunty before we prepare you for he day.” Bunty watched with an acute sexual excitement, fingering her cunt which she’d exposed ready for his tongue, her clitoris poking ard on seeing Trent’s cock perk to a full erection as he sniffed hard at the scent of feminine dominance, his tears now more of joy as he paid due homage to the stern woman who’d been more than instrumental in breaking is will completely, her stern sneer going to a sigh of triumphal sexual pleasure as the former master of he house licked the folds of her mature cunt in thanks for her caning him. Hilda moaned with a lush contentment as she came rapidly, then smiling wickedly, ushered and excited Bunty to the position she’d vacated.
Trent’s cock now boned with another sense of deliciously masochistic defeat, his bell oozing pre-cum on licking the beautifully firm folds of the cunt of a girl whom he was more han twice he age of, a girl who’d thoroughly enjoyed bring him to tears with her cane. His sense of absolute submission to feminity was magnified magnificently as he licked at her cunt with a sincere appreation of her taking I’m to a luscious low of submission, which had him aching to come. His enthusiasm was not lost on Hilda who sneered at his pressing use of his tongue as the sighing Bunty moaned into a richly deserved orgasm, the older woman stroking his quivering backside with her cane as he bumped the air in eagerness to come.
“That’s it Trent ... know your place ... know your place!” His desire to spend in the young maid’s honour was cruelly denied with pleasure by the two. Bunty sighed and sneered down in triumph at he collared and leashed Trent as she recovered from her orgasm, and the beaten Trent was led away to the washroom, cock poking rigid and high in sweet denial, to be made ready for he Palace visit.
Madam Edith Grange smirked with a covert and deeply sexual desire, as her pet, and property, was drawn towards her on a leash by a victorious looking Bunty, into the drawing room which was once his, to the delight, scorn, contempt and absolute ridicule of a host of dominant womanhood. Their pleasure at seeing him so, was intense and so erotically rewarding in that era of male dominance outside. A male, now a defeated prisoner in his own home, owned and dominated by a woman who so rightfully enjoyed her hedonistic sexual pleasure in her absolute authority over him.
Their utter contempt for him was justified, and the potency of their arousals acute, on seeing his entry on all fours, naked, his recently erect cock forced into a confining downward curved and miniscule pewter tube, which kept his pathetic token of manhood under suitably strict control, his scrotum banded tightly with a ring symbolising those balls below were owned, and a broad anal plug with an animal like tail hanging from its base - not just a visual delight for the women to mock, but an invasive instrument which stimulated his stretched anus and prostate within, giving him a permanent reminder of his defeat and submission to his mistress. The pleasing spectacle of his humiliating position in life under Edith was rounded off by his being smartly gagged, his mouth dribbling at the ball which kept his unwanted and unnecessary speech from his female betters, providing further arousal amongst he women at his reduction as he was led to his owner.
His cock boned to the maximum the wicked tube would allow, as he basked in the humiliation of being shown for what he was to such a delicious array of dominant women, his anus clenching hard at the plug on noting that each were dressed in black, as though about to attend a funeral. Edith looked supremely dominant as she sat with Madam Charlotte nonchalantly sipping tea, her tightly corseted black lace dress emphasising her mature curves, her smile at him as he was brought close, edged with contempt at seeing the fresh stripes he wore. She made sure that every woman in the room heard what she had to say.
“I see you’ve been caught sniffing soiled underwear again! ... no doubt you sampled many pairs as you undoubtedly masturbated whilst sniffing!” His cock pulsed in he tube and dribbled pre-cum through the slot as the audience of women laughed cynically and made noises of revulsion, their pleasure at learning of his base act, having I’m redden with shame ... and leant forward to undo his gag before continuing her shaming of him.
“You did masturbate, didn’t you?...” Trent quivered as he took in the multitude of femininity that had assembled at Edith’s invitation, too make good use of the residence that was once his domain ... his anus clenching and dilating as best it could, given the generous girth of the plug.
“Yes ... yes Mistress Edith ... I ... I masturbated.” As his ears took in the spiteful laughter at his pathetic confession, his eyes took in the plethora of feminine beauty, enjoying his humiliation. The bisexual Madam Beatrice had eyes as much for the youthful and viciously pretty Bunty as he, there was the equally youthful and spiteful Lucy, and a sneering Alice, Beatrice’s maid ... and there in one snug corner was the sadistic extreme of feminine dominance, Miss Fiona Brown. He barely had time to take in the kneeling figure who was with her, when Edith barked at him once more, taking his eyes from the distraction of he women he knew, and the anonymous women who sat amongst them.
“You’ll kiss the feet of the women whose underwear you sniffed at, in thanks for their providing you with such a filthy pleasure!” The women sneered with contempt as he immediately kissed his Mistress’s feet, then gasped at his shameful audacity as he then went to Hilda, then Lucy, and on to another young scullery maid, leaving his feminine audience snorting and grunting with contemptuous pleasure, at his recognition of whose cunts and anuses the whiffs that had excited his masturbation pertained to. After the scullery maid had enjoyed his grovelling at her feet, the girl pointed him back to his mistress, with an authority that both confirmed and excited the anonymous women guests, that he was truly owned by even the lowest member of feminine staff. With him cowering at her feet, Edith now addressed her guests as she casually gagged her property once more, bringing smug smiles from her guests as the ‘master of he house’ was put firmly in is place once more.
“Well ladies, as even the previous, but now insignificant, former owner of the house is here, it’s time to take our transports to the Palace.” The women sniggered as they cast their contemptuous eyes at Trent, but he noticed that their eyes were even more fervently moved towards the pet belonging to a very smug and obviously hotly aroused Miss Fiona Brown, whose smug looks in her tight black silk dress had his cock pulse in the tube wantonly.
If Trent thought he was dominated severely, it appeared to be nothing compared to the wretch now owned by the sadistic young Madam Brown. Naked as he, his back, thighs, and buttocks were striped with every hue of blue, purple, and red, showing that his thrashings were both incessant and wickedly vigorous. Miss Fiona Brown radiated dominance and pomposity as she pulled him up to his knees from the prone position upon the floor he’d been made to adopt, the audience of women moved to smug smiles at seeing his cock obscured by a tiny perforated dome, his balls ringed thrice, very tightly, and a decorative weight hanging from the third ring, the spiteful encumbrance making him constantly aware that it was his masculinity that he was being punished for.
A black tail hanged from an anal plug of a much greater girths than Trent’s, but most pleasing of all to both young Miss Brown and her audience, the beaten cur wore a full rubber mask which hooded his entire head, tied at the neck, just tiny holes which his eyes peeped through in bewilderment, a small hole beneath the hood over his nose which allowed breath, and a small hole at the mouth through which his tongue could poke when required, but presently showing the shiny bulge of a wooden ball bag ... the women’s cunts oozed with arousal at this delicious implement, indicating that the cur had been made completely anonymous by the huaghty Miss Brown, his previous identity irrelevant and unnecessary, erased forever by her dominance.
The women bustled towards her as they descended to alight the transports, eager to know where she’d obtained this deliciously humiliating hood, made with the most modern of flexible rubbers, the cur wearing it longing to come as he heard of their intentions in having husbands and pets know the sexual pleasure of anonymity brought about by enslavement. A smiling Miss Brown was more than receptive, pleased that her new device was so popular.
“I shall give you all, the details required once we’re at the Palace ... it will be an absolute pleasure, and the lady who produces them will be delighted with the custom.” Trent was careful not to show his excitement to Edith, on not just hearing the delectably dominant girl’s voice for the first time in a while, but hearing that the wicked rubber hoods were produced by a woman, his cock aching to spend, tightly erect in the tube as he imagined the face of the woman, and her sexual delight at making something to utterly subdue the masculine ego. Edith was well aware of is excitement though, her cunt just as wet with arousal at this new and humbling item.
“Shall we get one for you, my pet? ... I’m sure there’ll be many a husband treated to one, and paraded in places by a dominant wife or mistress, in places that their position in society would never otherwise allow.” She laughed cynically at the thought, and that thought had his yearning to spend all the more, as they left the gloom of the house, and his knees and palms were treated to the cobblestones of the courtyard before alighting one of the many cabs awaiting.
Travelling in the same cab as Miss Fiona Brown and her pet, Trent’s lust to be free of the tube and allowed to masturbate increased tenfold as he squatted on the floor between the seated Edith, keeping his leash nice and tight, and the attractive Madam Charlotte Dupont, her dominance having been recently confirmed at Trent’s expense. The rubber hooded cur knelt on the flooring opposite, his head in the folds of a smug looking Miss Brown’s skirt as he snivelled and whimpered through the gag and the hood’s tiny apertures, his apparent distress and Fiona’s smile exciting Edith to a question she knew would tease the cur further.
“Does he know what he faces today, my girl ... and just how special it’s going to be?.” Fiona curtly brushed her knee against the snivelling cur’s head, sneering down at him, after offering Edith a gracious smile.
“Oh he knows alright, I’ve been promising him too it for weeks ... he’s wondering how the noise will feel, and what lies in store for him beyond that...” Edith’s cunt moistened with a pert arousal as he watched hooded male nuzzle his dominant Mistress’s skirts and whimper all the more, the mature woman knowing full well that the defeated cur was at least twice the age of the mere girl who’d now see him displayed upon a rope, then sold to Madam Kali to know permanent obedience to womanhood in a land far from home. She pursed her lips at that thought as Fiona continued in a curt tone.
“ ... but it’s the fact he’ll no longer be my pet that has him sniffling, I know he’s longing to spend on the rope for me ... he fears the rejection most, but I can’t wait to see his picture in that seedy publication, placed between dark skinned dominant women, the placard reading ‘Sold by Miss Fiona Brown.” The cur jerked and shuffled amid the women’s cynical laughter, and a sighing Trent almost came, in a fit of erotic jealousy. Edith then had something else to say which indicated why the hanging today might be special.
“There is of course, always the possibility that the noose may see that its recipient receives exactly what is deserved, bringing a most rewarding experience for us ladies, and negating the need for transportation.” Both Trent and the cur dribbled sticky threads of pre-cum and rocked on their knees at he delicious thought as Edith winked at the other women, those within the carriage fully aware of the mock hanging procedure, though the multitude of women who attended the event at he Palace were not. Both Madam Charlotte and her maid Bunty, sighed with a lusty expectancy at witnessing a male hanging for he first time, as Edith continued in a delighted tone.
“I think I can say to everyone in this cab, that today might be very special indeed, as there’s going to be at least two chances of that exquisite occurrence being realised.” As the only other male within the transports, Trent grunted through his gag audibly, and was brought close to the point of spurting spontaneously as his pleading eyes went up to Edith’s in the belief that it was he who’d know that divine humiliation and enslavement to a foreign feminine despot. The women jeered at his muffled outburst, their cunts highly aroused at what hey knew was to come ... and thrilled by the accidental tease thrust upon Edith’s pet, as his mature mistress would soon bring him back down to Earth, and not by the courtesy of a rope as he’d expected.
“As if I’d spring that on you at this point, my pathetic property ... I’m referring to one whose antics have become tiresome at events such as this ... though you never know where the whim, and my appetite for sadism may take me.” Trent reddened visibly with having humiliated himself so, his motions so obvious, the women sneering and goading him, keeping his erection bone hard in he tube.
That erection was not eased as he entered the strictly feminine domain of the Palace, it’s feminine scents and the sense of absolute dominance that permeated from its walls, giving him a sense of foreboding as he was walked through it’s corridors on all fours by his mistress. The smiling receptionist of what outside was perceived as no more than a grandiose and marbled hotel, needed no introduction to the women she recogniised, waving them through to the doors which we to that hive of matriarchal dominance, and n event hat was to be special indeed.