Chapter 4

Some time had passed when Madams’ Eleanor Brigham, Agatha Brown, and indeed Violet Preston, received an invitation to Madam Marie Roussell’s residence, regarding the ceremonial sale of one of her house’s well trained products. With her blonde hair up in a tight bun, Eleanor cut an imposing picture of feminine dominance as she strutted to the entrance of Madam Roussell’s with the equally imposing Agatha, both sexually excited at the prospect of the pageant of a sale of an item of masculinity, its erotic cruelty, always such a thrill in this age of masculine oppression. They were greeted close to the entrance by an equally flushed and excited Violet, attending such an event- as a third party- for the first time. She had of course received ‘C8’, a male once known as Yates, as her own property some time before, but this sale of an item known as ‘C9’ to a woman unknown to their circle, promised to be a deliciously spiteful event.

Madam Roussell had already seen to it that her purchasing guest was suitably entertained before the three women arrived, the plump and very stern looking matriarch’s cunt brought to suitable arousal, by sadistic performances of Madam Roussell’s array of maids upon hapless male properties of the French woman; the tears of one, brought forth by the merciless application of a cane, a sight bringing a satisfied smile and a tingle to the cunt of the haughty feminine guest, witnessed by Eleanor and the others as they arrived. Eleanor whispered to the other two on viewing the purchasing woman.

“I can’t wait to see the kiln boy’s reaction when he sees her ... she’s perfect.” The clitorises of both Agatha and Violet poked high and hard against their tight satin underwear on viewing the plump and full breasted woman, senior in years, very strict looking, every inch the ruthless governess or headmistress. Her satisfied smile at the tears given out in distress by a youthful male in honour of his buttocks being freshly striped, providing evidence of where her pleasures lay regarding masculinity. Madam Roussell allowed her the full indulgence of the maid’s performance with the cane, and seeing to it that the caned male made himself prostrate at the guest’s feet before introducing the three to the stern woman.

“Eleanor Brigham, Agatha Brown, and Violet Preston ... this is Madam Barbara Huntsford, here to take possession of C9 ... and very eager to do so.” She gave them a bitchy smile...

“So pleased to meet women of a similar nature ... Marie’s told me all about you.” She looked down at the still snivelling male, and smartly stroked his fresh striping with the short whip she carried.

“Kiss my feet!” She smiled toward the three again as the cur eagerly lavished his tongue upon her boot leather.

“ ... we’ve just been talking about an event down south, a place called Darlington Hall ... somewhere I’m very familiar with, and very fond of ... where I’ll be showing off my new acquisition...” She grinned eagerly at Madam Roussell.

“ ... when I receive him ... and we thought you all might like to attend with your chosen properties...” She whipped the prostrate male, his tearful face grimacing as he continued to lap eagerly at her taut boots, then hiked her skirts back and spread her thighs.

“On your knees and sniff my cunt! ... smell how excited I am about the prospect of owning a male so much worthier than you!” Eleanor and the others grinned wickedly at her attention to spite, even with a servile male she had no real interest in. They grinned all the more at seeing his cock poke bone rigid as his face disappeared, rapidly and obediently, under her skirts and between her thighs, the cock perking high on taking in the sexual aroma of a senior and thoroughly dominant woman. Madam Barbara Huntsford smiled, as the snivelling nose pressed up against the satin clad cleft of her cunt, wet with arousal, it’s spice having that boning cock dribble pre-cum as its owner dreamed of being owned - and duly thrashed - by such a woman. She seemed to sense what the cur was thinking, as his nose nuzzled longingly at the clitoris poking hard through its satin shroud.

“You make the most of that scent, it’s the last time you’ll sniff it ... and it awaits the nose of another who’ll become more than familiar with it.” The message was clear to Madam Roussell, who snapped her fingers at the maids, as Barbara allowed the cur a good sniff before pushing him away.

“Summon Madam Elaine Stringer, and the purchased male, C9 ... we shan’t keep Madam Huntsford waiting any longer.” As a smirking maid departed to fetch the strict Elaine and Madam Barbara’s investment, another took the leash of the snivelling cur, leading him away on all fours, his cock bobbing rigidly as she ushered him with the cane and promised him another thrashing. Madam Barbara turned to her new friends with a wry smile.

“The event at Darkington Hall is rather like a dog show, males who already truly know their place, shown and humiliated for pleasure...” She grinned smugly with a knowing look at Marie.

“ ... it’s a mere bagatelle compared to some of the darker events that are held there; some males never returning from whence they came, but I won’t elaborate on that now ... You’ll be thrilled just with the history of how it came into Madam Beatrice Belvedere’s hands, still gives me a thrill whenever I visit.” Her chat was interrupted by the door opening and a sneering maid announcing the arrival of Madam Elaine Stringer ... and Madam Barbara’s purchase.

The haughty Elaine was in her element, her cunt hot with arousal, as she led in the male she’d captured and brought to Madam Roussell’s dressed as a girl, dominated, broken the spirit of with the cane, and now thoroughly trained to absolute obedience. Many of Marie’s pompous feminine guests simply applauded the appearance of the male, led in on all fours on a leash to meet his new owner, but the three women who’d seen him at capture, gasped with excitement at what the rough kiln boy had been reduced to.

Madam Stringer’s sneer was radiant as she paraded the defeated male before an eager audience of women ... and the new owner, his sale to her he was purposely kept unaware of, to add to the thrill. Naked and waxed of any bodily hair, the hair on his head allowed to grow a little longer, he looked distinctly effeminate. His white buttocks bore the stripery of many a thrashing, fresh red stripes blending with duller marks giving evidence of a history of sadistic torment ... and masochistic pleasure. The display of a broad plug, tight in his anus, bringing satisfied smiles from the women, below it, his cleanly waxed balls were smartly ringed with a broad silver band, emphasising the capture and surrender of his masculinity to dominant femininity. As he waddled obediently on all fours, the stiff erection of his cock was noted, poking from that ringed and owned scrotum, his submissive pleasure at being displayed in humiliation quite evident, and assisted by a buttoned, stiff leather tube running the length of his owned cock, a purposely rough cut edge, tight up behind the flange of his glans - every movement awarding him sexual stimulation along with that offered by the anal plug.

Despite being hooded in anonymity, the women could see from his startled eyes he knew something was different about today, the broad gag pressing the leather of the hood back into his mouth, assuring his obedient silence, not that he’d have ever dared question what was happening to him. His erection pulsed rigid with the humiliation of being shown for what he was to such a large feminine audience; a beaten and submissive male, owned and the plaything of womanhood. Elaine now emphasised just that, with cruel pleasure, as she built up to her moment of spiteful triumph over him.