Chapter 17

Creed’s sense of utter submission was overwhelming, on viewing the wholesale carnal delight of womanhood at the execution of three males, and he, Ethan, and three other male pets, lucky enough to be at the forefront to indulge their masochistic lusts, then crowned the day for those women. In blissful humiliation, they were made to show their appreciation by masturbating at the foot of the gallows platform, in full view of the jeering females, and each one emptied their balls with vigorous ejaculations, confirming the pathetic level of their lusting masochism in knowing the ultimate price of surrender to the will of dominant women.

Julia kept Creed’s leash nice and taught, giving him the flavour of the noose, while he spurted his seed in submissive ecstasy, the intense pleasure magnified by the cruel laughter of women as he was exposed for the cur he was, in public. He could not escape seeing the sneering eyes of Constance, Agnes, and Hope, as he tensed at the leash and jetted his milky wads of semen to the grass in the peak of pure ecstasy, they seeing his erotic jealousy at the exhibition the extinguished three had provided the sadism of womanhood. Julia felt it too, as she watched his wretched delivery with a smug resolution that teased her already hot arousal, the satisfaction at his worthy expenditure was noted by Agnes and constance in particular; their smiles toward Julia told her his card was marked, and Creed knew it too, extending the masochistic bliss of his humiliating orgasm amid feminine laughter.

But the task in hand was to be enjoyed in full without the distraction of future pleasures, and after the debacle of mastabatory humiliation indulged by Creed and the other pets, the three spent corpses were lowered, then slumped at the feet of Beatrice for a set of final, mocking photographs to accompany those taken throughout the glorious event. The crowd of women massed around the three cages, anxious to enjoy ridiculing the three even after death, many laughing as they poked at their spent and floppy genitalia with their canes, whilst their carcasses were slumped unceremoniously into the cages, to be transported back to where their death masks would be taken before being hoisted high on show. More jeering arose from the women, as males, one, two, three, were led to the cages and leashed to them; though hooded and thoroughly humiliated by their experience, the women could sense their anxiety to move away from the gallows, and those women who boldly poked their canes in haughty disrespect to the already dead, now offered up their canes to the flanks and backsides of the three to hasten their departure. Hope’s arousal in sensing their anxiety was supreme.

“I can’t wait to tell them they’re to hang too ... that’ll be such a pleasure.” Agnes grinned contentedly as their slow descent of the grassy incline began, leaving the three sated nooses to hang in the breeze behind them, awaiting the pleasure of their reward once the practical use of the three had expired.

“They’ll take the news quite sweetly, once they know their lives have become worthless...” She looked wistfully back at the gallows, eager for a repeat performance of such a successful and thrilling day, Constance concurring with her thoughts.

“Just a matter of days, Agnes dear...” Her eyes then looked down upon Creed, with a knowing smirk, then onto Beatrice who led the donkeys forward in triumphal pomp.

“ ... and when the pleasure of that day has been indulged, this open vista is going to make a splendid venue for so many more deserving males ... as per you and I, Beatrice will not be able to get enough of seeing semen shot in absolute surrender upon the rope.” Creed’s anus tingled with a lust to know that final surrender, as Constance looked over her shoulder and down at him, her lips pursed in a smile of spiteful contentment.

Males one, two, and three, were led away to face ridicule at the great celebratory ball that would be held that evening, their tastes for enduring submission to womanhood further advanced, and ensuring their return to servitude following the statements they’d declare in public, a day or two later. Each would be put to very good use that evening, before being dressed the next day to witness the fate of the substitutes on that evening, and give them the flavour of reality in fabricating their testaments. The cages were then carried through to the bleak clock tower courtyard by the swathe of womanhood, to know their display of victorious femininity.

Once again, Creed was favoured with imbibing the entire erotic experience, being Julia’s pet, and that submissive eroticism was blessed with an anus tingling surge, as Beatrice gloated precociously in having the ladies view three cages which were already stationed at one end of the courtyard. Having he and Ethan, equally privileged as Beryl’s pet, show their obvious submissive awe at what lay within, adding an extra delight for both her, and her entourage of dominant femininity.

“See how the three who gave themselves up so willingly in their obedience to duty, will know eternal ridicule ... they may only have been fodder for the gallows, and then deservedly incinerated for their weakness, but their faces and the tokens of the defeated masculinity that earned them that final humiliation, will know perpetual scorn.” That awe shown by Creed and Ethan, was accompanied by satisfied sneers and soft applause given in high dudgeon by the women, the spiteful chorus having Creed’s cock attempt to lift once more in honour of the tingling of his balls, as his eyes took in the sparse contents of the cages.

Each had a bronze cast of the death masks of the three, attached upon the outside of the cage bars near the top; the bliss of their sacrifice to womanhood, captured in minute detail, their divine pleasure in ceding their lives in masochistic pleasure for the satisfaction of womanhood, captured eternally. The anonymity of the three, their identities irrelevant as processed products of Ella’s domain, and their worthlessness other than to serve the dominance of womanhood in that ultimate of gestures, adding an extra erotic pathos to their expenditure. At the foot of each cage, rested a large glass surgical display jar, sealed tight and filled with formaldehyde. Within each were the severed cocks and balls which had earned them their fate; the tokens of masculinity which had doomed the males to know the blissfully masochistic expressions on the masks above, removed with pleasure by the feminine hands that had seen them to the rope, for eternal ridicule.

Beatrice’s eyes lifted as she basked in the approving applause, looking toward the other end facing wall of the courtyard, against which the three empty cages which completed the set, stood their gaunt forms which awaited three males yet to please her upon the gallows.

“Of course, these three will adorn the lower three positions ... they can’t be placed until our concluding pleasure in my succession to Darkington Hall has been enacted ... in just a few days ladies!” Beryl in particular, enjoyed the sincerity in her tone, and the regal pomp she expressed as she strutted with some satisfaction toward the cages which were ready to be hoisted that day, Beryl’s accession to the pleasures of dominance and the delights of righteous feminine superiority, still requiring the need to almost pinch herself in disbelief at the tart sexual euphoria she was now experiencing; a sharp tug on Ethan’s leash. and the grip of that leather strap in her hand, ensuring her she was not in an erotic dream as she admired the near regal posture of Beatrice with deep admiration.

The team of servile males from Arachne House, who’d worked so willingly in erecting the gallows, and had received due reward with the whip on its completion, now cowered at Beatrice’s feet by the cages, kneeling with ropes in hand which were fed through pulleys high above, one of their member harnessed and roped to another, to ascend and ensure the cages were located securely; each looking forward to further reward when put to further use that evening, Beatrice earning Beryl’s further admiration as she dismissed the presence of their masculinity with a sneer of indifference, and drawing attention of the women to the occupied cages having arrived with them.

Their masks having been taken, the three males who had paid the price for their crimes against womanhood, then gave femininity further delightful arousal after death; their spent bodies still bound at wrist and ankles, were presented with wire cabled nooses, clad with Hessian for immediate effect. Placed in a kneeling position within the cages, Beatrice and the maids took supreme pleasure in noosing the hapless corpse, and attaching the short ropes to the bars at the top of the cages; the shame of how they met their ends, illustrated in perpetual humiliation. No louder applause than that offered by Agnes, was heard as the cages were hoisted slowly to their high position of display.

“A fittingly eternal shame for three tyrants, who thought to profit materially and sexually over womanhood, and were shown the true order of things... “ Creed watched her nipples poke rigid as the creaking ropes lifted the sorry exhibits high to their place of permanent display upon the convenience of the iron hooks, then saw her turn to Beatrice with a wicked grin.

“I take it the only males who’ll be allowed the pleasure of viewing your exhibits, will then know the pleasure of the gallows too? ... I’d love to bring some and have their imaginations primed for the rope that way.” Beatrice was more than keen to have her new estate enjoy the notoriety she had planned for it, and would see it succeed; the unanimous aura of spiteful arousal from her feminine crowd as the three wretches were hoisted, setting it nicely on course.

“Why yes Agnes ... and any other woman who chooses to have her male property exhibited in that final pleasure, will be more than welcome...” Her eyes went up to the singular set of windows which looked out upon the rear of the clock tower.

“The secret room behind the library will become my office for such arrangements ... I’ve long been an admirer of your methods, the floor up there is to see a wealth of semen as deserving males show their gratitude on learning they’re to hang ... the cages will instill a delightful confirmation in their minds, as to how males are dealt with at Darkington Hall.” As the clang of the cages rang out a suitably melancholy note, on being placed on the iron hooks high above, all eyes went upwards as the applause serenaded Beatrice’s triumph, and the posthumous humiliation of the three tyrants began.

Inspector Charles Blackett paid little attention to the distant but raucous commotion that the crows gathered around the clock tower of Darkington Hall gave out, this was a rural setting after all, and as he studied the scant and charred remnants of the collapsed stable block, he knew there’d be little evidence to suggest any foul play ... even if that were the unlikely case. Besides the distant distraction of the noisy crows, he also had the distraction of the elegant and attractive figure of the mature Madam Beatrice Belvedere to contend with, her presence making it even harder for he and the uniformed constables to keep their minds on their work. Blackett turned to Fenner, the representative from the fire station, who’d attended with one of the crews.

“You say it was already well ablaze when your men arrived?” The fireman cocked his hat, as he viewed the ashes while responding.

“Oh yes, it had already collapsed, these old timber buildings don’t take long to go up, the weatherboard walls and thatched roofs are a recipe for disaster. The three men ... we must assume they were men ... will have been overcome by smoke fair rapid like.” Blackett gave a half smile at the fireman’s rural accent and use of English, and summarised as he toed a warped whisky bottle, it’s shape giving its own story as to the intensity of the heat that had been generated.

“The three witnesses suggest it was in flames when they arrived, they also suggested it was likely the three had been drinking heavily...” He turned to Beatrice, who was still trying to maintain an air of being shocked by the event, though was delighted with the progress thus far. Blackett was careful with his approach, but direct; he had no time for the landed gentry, and hid the fact that he was almost smug about the demise of three wastrels with no need to work for a living.

“Is that a likely possibility, Madam Belvedere ... that they’d been imbibing alcohol during the day?” Beatrice moved a silken handkerchief to her face, feigning a blush of embarrassment.

“I ... I’m afraid so ... they had some eccentric habits ... which is why they often spent time here ... away from the Hall.” Blackett sensed that she was not entirely overcome with grief at the departure of the men, and that was more than understandable; his mind forming a picture of their characters as being a burden on the household, and his already derogatory opinion of the idle rich, further darkened by the evidence of excesses of alcohol.

“ ... the three men who discovered the fire ... they were close associates of the departed?” Beatrice was only too happy to confirm that association.

“Yes ... I think they liked to play cards together ... something like that ... that’s why they were here in the evening, just as it got dark, and with the stables being in this position in a hollow behind the trees, we at the Hall were unaware of the fire until one of them alerted us.” Blackett was thankful for the excess of information, which tallied with the initial verbal testaments he’d received so far. If he had any suspicions of foul play, they rested with the three males who’d discovered the blaze, but the fact they’d come forward when they could have easily remained unknown, had there been any guilt on their part, exonerated them.