Chapter 4

Both Travis and Thorpe knew their time had come. Both had been thoroughly broken by the vindictive spite of the many vengeful women, and had learned to erect at the sight of a whip; their emotions turned on their heads, and each now a slave to the spice of dominant cunt and the automated desire of their own testicles. The smiles of the horsewomen had a special glow of extra wickedness on this hot and steamy morning, and the promises of the many vindictive women who had treated them to whip, cane, and oral service, meant they knew an unpleasant fate awaited them. Both had seen others taken away to endure a life of humiliating slavery to womanhood, and hoped they’d be spared to enjoy the rigid and severe indenturement to any one of the haughty black women, who’d taken such wholesome pleasure in teaching them to appreciate masochism and display the erections they now sported. Both were to know the only fitting justice that their crimes against womanhood warranted.

Shani watched with supreme satisfaction at the cowering wretch that the once arrogant and would-be masterful male had been reduced to. Hardly recognisable as the cruel and ruthless tyrant who had butchered her kinfolk, the resemblance was to be further dimmed by the entourage of eager black women who held him and Travis prone, after Adina and Bibi had unleashed them from their stakes and shown them a taste of their whips. The glistening black harpies washed them in a soapy solution, and set about shaving both males from head to toe. Minter looked on, finding even this strangely humiliating ordeal sexually arousing, especially as he rightly anticipated that it signified their final hours. Confirmation that the women’s pleasure would be forthcoming, was announced by Erica, whose mood of stern sexual dominance tinged with spiteful retribution, was evident. Her sneer broadened as she watched today’s offerings squirm and flinch under the many cutthroat razors which paid no need to comfort in removing every visible strand of hair.

“That’s it girls, make sure our penitent lambs are shorn clean for their exposure on their final day, one of them is due at our court of justice ... the other, well, we don’t want hair in our teeth.” Both males quaked in fear as the delighted cacophony of spontaneous warbling from the women, the sheer spite of their joy giving a hint that they knew exactly what Erica’s words meant, while both shaven males were lifted to their knees. Hands were placed under their chins, making them arch their backs; their despairing countenances exposed along with their clean shaven bodies, cocks standing high and larger in appearance, on their groins and sacks having been shorn bare. Minter watched with intense curiosity, he too awed and a little fearing for his own fate due the extreme fervour of the women, though safe on Erica’s leash. She sneered wickedly, giving the lead a tug.

“Oh yes, if there’s one thing my knowledge of the colonies has brought my women, it’s that the taste of defeated male’s flesh is truly to be savoured. Of course, the practice utilised by those in the South Seas is less elaborate, and non-discriminatory - it’s simply defeated warriors that are eaten - here I’ve introduced it as a fitting end for vanquished and deserving males ... our women have taken to it readily. Today we’ll have the hanging of the main tyrant, and follow it up with our feasting on the second most guilty.” She grinned down at Minter as he quivered and gasped on the leash at her revelation.

“You’ll find the method of execution, and its dual purpose, most exquisite ... you can see how our women’s enthusiasm has peaked, they’ve taken to the practice so readily.” Minter’s mind ran riot, as to the depths of depravity that the pale-skinned redhead’s knowledge of such base practices elsewhere, had enlightened the women to. He watched as Thorpe was taken to one side, and leashed on his knees by the proud and noble Adina, the leash then passed to a smiling Shani, to be held till he was led away to trial, found guilty unanimously, and hanged and castrated. He quivered in utter submission, surveying the sexual arousal of the proud and shapely woman he’d abused, his cock hopelessly erect at the lush irony of guessing she’d lead him to the gallows, his acquired taste for the whip and feminine spite now having him almost desire it.

His eyes went to the fate of Travis; a real commotion having erupted when Erica made her suggestion, he noted the smiling, whooping women form an orderly line to high banked gully with a stream running through it, several more women running through the delighted throng from a hut at the back, breasts bouncing to display their nipples hard in arousal as they hurried to Travis in impatience. Travis quaked under heels as the women applauded the arrival of two tubed and harnessed objects, two more delighted women carrying a stout pole, some eight feet long, and a space cleared amongst the excited throng as several more grinning women placed two forked poles into recesses over a barren, cinder strewn patch, high on a mound. Travis squirmed in reluctance on guessing his fate, but was overwhelmed by the many eager hands that lashed him tight to the pole, his cock boning erect despite his fear, as those women closer to his head freely wafted the scent of heady arousal from their naked cunts as he was bound tight; their sexual euphoria blending with vindictive spite for this special event.

Erica watched with haughty pride as the male was lifted on the pole; the two tubular harnesses grabbed eagerly by more than enthusiastic women, as their prize was taken up the slope and hoisted on display between the forks to the deafening warbling of feminine excitement.

“Of course, the Polynesian warriors would simply club their victims to death, and roast their naked ‘long pig’ over the flames, but that would not serve the justice that our criminals have earned...” She smiled down at Minter as they arrived close to the proceedings, knowing his submissive nature would appreciate what was to follow. His eyes went to the first tubular object, Travis gasping as a bulbous woman ensured he took one end of the tube into his mouth, the harness then pulled tight to have its mask cover his nose and hold his head tight to the pole, leaving him looking as though he held a blow-pipe in his mouth. The women continued their intense warbling, and took it to a new pitch as the bound male had his cock toyed with by eager feminine hands, to ensure it was boning in full erection, a suitably severe woman licking her lips as the second tube was slipped over his protruding and generously swollen bell, the harness then secured tight about his waist and through the crack of his arse cheeks. The women watched him squirm as he hung in bondage, strapped to the pole, pleased to see that it still allowed his hips a little movement. Erica smiled wickedly and gave a tug on Minter’s leash as the women tucked a soft gauze around the base of his cock where it entered the tube, and about his balls.

“We don’t want that area totally immobilised ... to deny the victim a final spend, or two, would be a little heartless. The tube has been greased to aid his movement as he struggles in defeat ... and gives up his token of masculinity in surrender.” Shani now joined them, her gasps of wonderment which matched those of Minter’s, now curling to a smile as she watched the women at the end of the line, claw clay from the bank and pass it on.

“I see animal prepared this way in village ... but man?...” Minter’s heart raced, his cock pulsing, as the wads of sticky clay were passed down the line of ecstatic women, the residue dribbling down nubile and sagging breasts alike, as the clay was passed on and daubed on the tightly restrained and fearful male. Whenever it looked as though a section may detach itself from the carcass within, the women would play their spread hands over it, while a gleeful woman would run down the line to the bank, requesting a suitable change in the texture chosen. Minter also noted how the women changed position in the line in orderly fashion, so that each had a chance to savour their work, slipping fingers through their wet and clay stained cunts as they watched the cocoon grow, in entombing its helpless victim.

Travis sucked at the pipe as the light quickly disappeared from his world, bound tight to the pole, the clay first soothing his lash striped body from the blazing sun as it was plied and stuck to the smooth contours of his hairless body. He then began to feel it’s weight as more and more was applied by the eager women, then its teasing restriction as that blazing sun had it quickly harden and had him savour absolute bondage. As the heat from the sun baked the outer layers, he squirmed and struggled in vain within, his sweat and the flexing of his muscles allowing a little movement of his torso against the pulpy layers within the ever hardening shell.

His clogged ears now detected the reverberating warbling of the women who had defeated him, resonating through the hardening shell as their hands gleefully polished and sealed any cracks in the monstrous clay monolith that held him secure, stimulating his cock to slip in the tight girth of the greased tube. His stiffening symbol of the arrogant masculinity which had brought him there, pushed and retracted its swollen and pleasured bell no more than an inch or so at first, the masochism and enforced reverence for feminine dominance he’d been taught so rigorously at their hands, now shaming but exciting his senses as he resigned himself to a grisly fate.

His heart raced at the splendour of the dark fate he’d endure, on feeling vibrations through the vertical poles which held his crude sarcophagus high on display, guessing correctly that fuel for his pyre was being placed below it. Minter’s cock matched that of the entombed victim, standing high as he tried hard to imagine the thoughts and sensations of the living occupant of the now rock hard ellipse, ready to be baked by a source which would have the blazing sun’s rays seem gentle, the women now joyous in the task of piling blocks of cut wood below the gaunt and ominous clay prison. Minter’s thoughts on how the doomed occupant felt, were soon teased to an erotic high.

Travis’s mind reached an exquisitely masochistic zenith, on the just and hideous punishment he was to suffer; the restrictive clay now hard but smooth against his sweating body where what little movement could be gained, somehow emphasising the nature of the feminine determination that had consigned him to it with dominant pleasure; their smooth, delicate bodies masking that ardent and hard vindictiveness which had earned him their spite with justifiable conviction, his only regret, that he could not see the cruel pleasure on their faces as he jerked his pulsing cock back and forth the short distance in the greased tube.

Bound and helplessly encased, he appeased the efforts of the women most gratifyingly through the second tube which served but one purpose. As he grunted in submissive ecstasy through the front tube, he sensed the reverberations of delight from the women as he jetted his load in a divine disgrace through the other. A nubile beauty piling logs was the first to notice it, shrieking with delight and pointing to the tube as the milky come dribbled from it to splatter on the dry wood below, the crescendo of feminine rejoice and warbling, vibrating through the clay tomb and ensuring that Travis’s balls were emptied most thoroughly in masochistic worship of the fate chosen for him; the humiliation of the male within, confirming to his feminine audience his breaking and desire to know their cruel pleasure.

Minter’s sexual euphoria reached another ghastly but exciting high, as Erica showed her sadistic contentment at the pleasure she illustrated in the humiliating disgrace of the doomed occupant, in the only visible way it could now be shown. Her curt and cynical laughter as she applauded the expulsion of his cream in absolute defeat, had Minter’s anus tingling at the depth of her cruel enjoyment. His masochistic desire could not help but be aroused to an erotic peak by the sound of her sadistic pleasure and the vista of the dark and inanimate clay monolith, now brought to life as it glowed under the baking heat of the sun; the dribbling essences confirming that a penitent male awaited the finality of its purpose, hopelessly entombed within as it hung on display, the sound of Erica and the other women’s curt and spiteful pleasure, resonating through it.

As the wild and derisory applaud quietened with the emission of semen reduced to the odd pathetic drip, Erica turned with a sneer toward the cowering Thorpe, kneeling leashed at the feet of the proud Adina, as Shani walked back to own her prize with a smile.

“We’ll allow our offering to savour his position till we’re ready to complete the ceremony, but first a little something to whet our appetites ... a trial ... and then a hanging.” Thorpe’s anus tingled with a mixture of pure fear and newly instilled masochistic relief, that his misery would soon be ended, his cock rising in a defeated salute to the sneering Shani, as she took his leash to lead him to a trial from which the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Minter’s submissive arousal was excited by the strangely unnecessary procedure; Thorpe would hang, and others guilty of a lesser part in the debacle had been justly dealt with, without any formal announcement. The procedure would add to his humiliation though, and have him truly savour being displayed upon the gallows in shame.

The surreal and highly erotic atmosphere gripped Minter’s mind, as he watched Thorpe led through the steamy grove of palms toward the rear of the grand house, his mind going back to the animal he’d witnessed on deck, and what that animal had been reduced to. He now cowered, physically unrecognisable with his hair shorn from his entire body, emphasising his white flesh all the more in his exposed humiliation. His striped and beaten body in stark contrast with the glowing and richly dark sheen of the nubile and proud Shani, the girl he’d seen no more as a commercial asset for sexual use during transit, now proudly leading him on a leash; her own sexual arousal now evident in the satisfaction of dominating the former tyrant as the high noose came into site.

Thorpe faltered just a little at the stark and foreboding vista coming into sight, the fervour and smiles directed at him from the mass of excited women who flanked his passage to death, increasing with their anticipation and appetite to see him tried, hanged, and castrated. Shani’s emerging wickedness unable to resist taunting him, her cunt wet with vindictive pleasure at his cold realisation of the punishment welcoming him.

“Yes, you know that’s what you deserve, and you know that’s where you pay for your crime...” She sneered victoriously and pulled his face between her glossy brown thighs and had him sniff at the glistening ebony cunt, hot with dominant arousal.

“You should have dispose of me, when you had chance ... now I confirm your guilt, and you hang.” She smiled with satisfaction as his cock bobbed and pulsed, his harshly induced masochism enjoying the sweet irony, enhanced by the rich scent of her womanly spice.

“ ... I believe you desire this all the time ... to be caught by woman, dominated by woman, hanged for woman’s pleasure ... I take you to know that desire, and I enjoy more than anything.” Thorpe sniffed hard at her cunt before she tugged him forward on the leash, to warbling approval from the women who’d see him suffer on the rope, his cock boning erect, as her words provoked more than an element of truth on being led to the gallows by the women of a people he’d seen as no more than chattels. The lushness of that justice was not lost on Minter as he stumbled on his own leash to the benched site within fifty yards of the gallows, the naked, erotic beauty of the massed black femininity, their silky curves and haughty expressions displaying their sexual pleasure at the deserved torment of the leashed and beaten male, had him yearning to know the noose himself. His perverse desire was somehow transmitted to Erica, who tugged the leash tight, her own arousal at a peak.

“Savour what you witness my pet, perhaps you’ll satisfy their pleasure in the same way one day ... who knows where my whims will take me tomorrow.”

Bibi and Efra stood proudly with their whips aside a long bench, framing the waiting gallows behind, Erica, Shani, and several shapely elders nestling their perspiring flesh upon the smoothly polished surface, Minter watching the flesh of their superb buttocks and thighs spread to scent the hard surface with their essences; his cock pulsing at the base thought of licking that surface clean following their departure. Other women sat on benches which flanked the central depression, in which a curved beam seat sat; its forward length rising at forty-five degrees and facing the front bench, curving down to a short horizontal seat from which protruded a highly polished phallus near its rear.