Chapter 7

Enslaved in Berlin, Horace’s miniscule remains of dignity, were once again taken to their lowest reserve as an audience of women including his sadistic Mistress and the fur clad Frau Luckner, gave spiteful applause at Heidi’s demonstration of both her physical and sexual superiority over him, on the polished gymnasium-like floor of the upper room. He’d quickly pleased the women by being reduced to tears by her limb breaking holds and strangulations, their sneering laughter at his shame, having him erect wantonly in the grip of her vice-like strength; unable to hide the lust of his masochism in being shamed by the show of absolute dominance over him, in her demonstration of naked wrestling. Now held by her muscular thighs with his face tight to her crotch as she pinioned him, like a constrictor about to devour its prey, the women jeered and applauded with spiteful enthusiasm as the scent of her victorious arousal, and the bidding of her hand, had the Lord of Mannerly Hall’s cock spurt its cream in his ectasy of defeat.

Frau Luckner looked on, pleased at seeing him dominated thoroughly, but with a tinge of disdain at this impromptu show of feminine arrogance, as her attendance was primarily for the purpose of receiving Horace in her turn to dominate him in the comfort of her home. Gerda grinned at her as they watched Heidi have him lick the spent semen from her hand, then hold his head down to the boards to have him lick his expenditure clean from that surface too.

“Oh don’t fret so my dear, there’s plenty more where that came from ... and just the walk through my garden, past the gallows, will have him more than ready to surrender his seed again, especially knowing the delights your party over there will have lined up for him. I’d so love to attend too, but I’ve business in the city I need attend to.” There was no need to dress Horace in any way, given that the rear of Frau Luckner’s house faced the rear of Gerda’s, and a suitably dungeon-like door had been fashioned in the tall stone wall which divided the gardens of their properties, so intimate was the association that had developed between the two. A still trembling Horace was collared and leashed, and led down the stairs by the proud woman, the display of his humiliation may have irked her slightly on seeing his seed wasted before her appointment, but his cringing submission had her cunt hot and sticky with arousal. He’d know so much more humiliation when she got him home.

The formidable woman led him out to the lawn, followed by a small procession of women who’d join the throng already stationed at her house, amongst them, the redheaded and magnificently bulbous Frau Grasped, who patted Horace’s arse along with her crop as they passed the gaunt gallows on which he’d shot his mess in masochistic shame. From a window above, a sweaty Heidi clutched furtively at a phone; her loyalty to Frau Blucher, not quite as keen as it was to a certain other organisation. She had made sure the door had been closed behind her, and was quite alone as she trailed the phone’s cable close to the window.

“Yes ... Frau Luckner’s house ... give them a good hour to get things into full swing”. She took the phone back to where she’d found it, and crept out and upstairs to her room high in the attic. She pulled open her wardrobe doors, and pulled a smartly pressed brown uniform from it, hung it on the door, then lay back on her bed and masturbated at the thought of wearing it in earnest; the polished black boots and whip standing next to them, which sat at the foot of the wardrobe ensured she came admirably. Her dominance was about to take strides in those boots beyond her dreams.

The women had enjoyed Horace’s cowering as he was led past the gallows, his relief tangible on having it behind him. Frau Luckner put her key to the thick wooden door, worthy of a church entrance, and ushered the party through to her own garden, which as per Gerda’s, was high walled and not overlooked. The garden was well stocked with mature trees and shrubs, wild at the gated end, a twisting path through the long grass and shrubs keeping the gate anonymous to those not aware of it, and leading on to a manicured lawn, lined by well tended flower beds. Several stern looking women were taking in the summer air, and a little wine on the patio area, before joining the others upstairs. They greeted Frau Luckner on her return, and enjoyed ridiculing the naked male with pompous contempt.

“So this is the English lord? ... I can’t wait to see him take the whip ... and the other pleasures we have for him.” The two had leashed males of their own, suitably hooded and gagged, also naked but for the cruel leather straps of harness-ware, their anuses plugged, and their cocks ornately caged to prevent masturbation. The women hurriedly unhitched them and followed Frau Blucher in. In contrast to Gerda’s residence, the house was cluttered with an obviously feminine choice of objet d’art, the staircases which they ascended, fashioned in an intricate art nouveau style, reflecting the owner’s expensive tastes. She stopped on one landing and opened a door, stepping into the room on leaving Horace with a sneering Frau Gessler, before emerging with another leashed male, hooded, and though delicately built and with painted finger and toe-nails which gave Horace an immediately strange foreboding, had an already firmly erect cock which was half as big again as his. The fur clad Frau, sneered with a certain anticipation.

“This is my Rudi ... you and he are to become well acquainted on your visits ... he likes both girls and boys, so he’s always comfortable in any company ... and you’re going to learn to enjoy his company.” Horace hesitated on the leash as Frau Luckner led the bisexual across the landing to another door, incurring a swift whip from the redhead who’d know no disobedience, but laughed softly with the pleasure of Horace’s understandable reluctance to follow. The door was swung open and a rich applause rang out from the large lounge within, the eager and sneering eyes of many women scrutinising Horace as Frau Luckner led Rudi to station him at one side, then took Horace’s leash from the redhead and began to parade him about the room.

“This is Horace ... once Lord of Mannerly Hall, and now the owned property of Frau Blucher ... he is mine for today and tonight, and will not fail to entertain you.” Horace took in the delighted feminine faces, many glazed with the effects of the substances they were smoking, others rubbing themselves unashamedly as he passed, excited at seeing such a notable male brought down to know his true position below their gender, others just sneering wickedly, relishing the humiliation he was already enduring, and anticipating that to come. There were several males there, besides the three who had entered with him, each leashed and masked and on their knees, their heads hung low in defeat. The centre of the floor was covered by a huge fur rug, onto which Horace was led for further inspection, and it developed, for requests for his personal service, which would see him nicely aroused before he faced the humiliation that Frau Luckner had in mind for him. She gave him a cursory stroke with her whip, as she stood in dominating pose over him.

“Kiss my feet Horace, show the ladies how well you know your place...” He didn’t hesitate, and bent to kiss them immediately, the fervour of appreciation at his obedience in the servile act, awarding him a keen erection.

“You like to lick cunt and arsehole in submission, don’t you Horace?...” He croaked his response out as he lapped at her tall shoes, his balls tingling as he guessed at what was to come.

“Yes ... yes Mistress Luckner...” She puffed her breasts out with the swell of her dominated ego, and stroked his flanks with her whip.

“I shall have that tongue all to myself later...” She looked up and scanned her audience, with a contented smile.

“ ... would anyone else like the service of his tongue ... right now?” Horace listened to the excited cackling of requests, though one dominated all others, the voice resonant and clear.

“I’m first ... I’ve lusted for it, since seeing him hang ... I shan’t be denied the pleasure.” Horace’s cock poked high and throbbed, as the unmistakable tones of Frau Gessler made the demand with a dominant passion that none of the other women dare argue against, so revered a dominatrix was she, in that circle. After all, the formidably built redhead had led him in on a leash, and at nearly six foot tall and with the excess flesh that somehow enhanced the pleasure in the spite she showed all males, would make the perfect opener. The fur lady grinned; she’d witnessed the flame haired bitch thrash once cocksure males close to death, breaking their spirits beyond repair ... and what became of some of them beyond that, following their disappearance, was a spicily erotic mystery.

“So be it! ... Frau Gessler will show him the way.” As Horace was led toward her awe invoking dominance, he couldn’t know that she had one eye on one of the many ornate clocks whose ticking was blotted out by the lusty anticipations of debauchery, though it struck him now, how he’d noted that she’d made a beeline for a seat of her choice, rudely dispersing the two slender women who occupied it, they not arguing with her. As he was drawn to her by her smile, it didn’t enter his head that the seat was one closest to another door. There was a very good reason for the acutely dominant redhead ensuring she had her fill of him with all urgency,

Her supremely confident smile never altered as she wriggled the long and pleated black skirt she wore, back and up to her waist, bringing gasps from the eager audience on their seeing she wore no underwear. The tight black patent leather-like boots she wore, finished deliciously at her knee, emphasising the milky whiteness and huge expanse of her thighs, her plump arse spreading the ample flesh of her cheeks on her lifting her boots to the seat; her expression didn’t falter from the cruel smile, in spite of the delighted gasps at her bravado in exposing her red tufted cunt and needy pale brown pucker unashamedly. Horace boned rigid, his hanging cock perking and lifting to further delight his audience, as he was drawn toward the immense and inviting warmth of her flesh.