Chapter 7

Eleanor’s lust for the extremes of total and absolute dominance over the male gender, grew with each moment at Darkington, as did that of Violet and Agatha, much to the smug satisfaction of Barbara Huntsford and Marie Roussell, as the three women who were new to the thrill of seeing males openly exhibited upon the rope, were shown the hidden inner courtyard by a delighted Beatrice, accompanied by an equally eager female crowd including Ella,, Hope, and Constance, who never tired of hearing Beatrice extol the virtues of what was exhibited upon the walls there, hidden from the view of incidental visitors, but viewed with erotic gusto from the covert courtyard, or the secret room beyond the library in the opposite wall, which, a flight of stairs above, bore the only windows which allowed a perfect view of nine gaunt cages adorning the opposite wall.

Eleanor gasped with a spiteful excitement at looking up at the starkly barred ironwork cages, their gilt coatings still gleaming despite exposure to the elements, contrasting with the comforts and indulgences of Darkington’s grandiose interior, daring to guess their purpose along with Violet and Agatha, as the smiling entourage of dominant womanhood gazed up with satisfaction as the clouds whisking overhead and the intermittent sunshine between, seemed to highlight their gaunt existence with a lusting illumination. No smile was broader than that of Beatrice Belvedere’s, as the mature woman described the purpose of those cages for the benefit of the fresh female visitors ... which confirmed the pleasure of her triumph over masculinity.

“I owe this idea to my excitement on visiting the church of St. Lambert, at Munster in the Prussian province of Westphalia, during a European tour, the church is adorned with three cages within which are the remains of three religious perverts ... tortured, executed, and displayed in permanent humiliation...” Eleanor gasped with a wicked interest, her cunt hot with a dark yearning to know more, as she espied the weathered masks of males upon the lower cages, their serene and contented gaze fixed forever in bearing a permanent humiliation of their own, a glass jar within each, bearing something within which none of the women could quite make out, something obviously fleshy but now obscured by a little grime and green lichen ... giving Beatrice the necessary thrill of describing what was within to new women viewing the exhilarating exhibition.

“ ... the lower three bear the masks of three nameless and worthless males, who were put to doubly good use, first in awarding is much pleasure by being the first trio to test our gallows in unison, their spent bodies then used to dupe the local authorities by assuming the identities of three other, more notorious wretches, placed in the stable block and near cremated in a fire with the trappings and artefacts of the assumed three ... a satisfying verdict of misadventure being recorded...” She grinned with a smug satisfaction of her own as she pointed her stiff whip at one of the glass receptacles.

“We knew we wouldn’t have their bodies to display, so after they’d enjoyed the pleasures of the rope, and duly given up their seed in disgrace on high, they were castrated and their spent manhoods removed ... retained and preserved in jars as mementos, their eternal humiliation ensured.” The blonde Eleanor sighed with a wicked pleasure of her own, at simply being at a place where the absolute dominance of femininity ruled, males used in extremis for the hedonistic pleasure of dominant power, the cunts of Agatha and Violet tingling in similar fashion, as they gaped up at the nine cages, the supreme Beatrice now eagerly pointing to the central three displays.

“There within the middle three cages are the remains of three male accomplices in crime of those in the top three, they gave service in return for ill gotten gains, administered corrupt accounts and legalities for the three above, and were put to good use in confirming the fate of the three above in a stable fire to the necessary authorities ... when in reality they had been captured and thoroughly dominated, and had witnessed the three above hang...” She sighed with an acute pleasure as the three women new to the sadistically erotic vista, stared up at the skeletal remains, still bearing the bindings in which they’d been hanged.

“ ... they were promised a life of slavery under appropriate feminine heels for their contribution toward my rightful accession to Darkington, in complying with demands in that they confirm the stable fire story to the authorities ... but they knew too much, and it gave me an exquisite pleasure in informing them that they’d follow their fellow curs to the gallows, and enjoy the delights of being displayed on high for feminine satisfaction!” Eleanor’s cunt perked with a uniquely erotic lust, as she thought on the faces of those men, on learning that they’d been used, cheated, and would spunk their last whilst gracing the noose before satisfied womanhood. Many sighs and murmurs of contentment came from the flock of women familiar with the lushly erotic exhibition of feminine power, finding each rendition by Madam Beatrice Belvedere as freshly exciting as the day they’d seen those cages go up, Eleanor’s cunt in eager need of tongue service from her pet of the moment, as the bold and proud women pointed to the top three cages, her nipples hard through the fabric of her gown, her cunt wet with arousal.

“There at the very top, in pride of place, in permanent humiliation, are the three tyrant and would-be usurpers of Darkington, who refused to acknowledge my rightful inheritance of the estate ... thinking a mere woman would never dare question their ‘masculine authority ‘ and ruling over staff and every woman within it in trite and misogynistic tyranny...” She deftly rubbed at her cunt through the folds of her long silken dress, thrilled with having new and obviously dominant women hear of her succession at the expense of masculinity ... expense in permanent fashion.

“ ... my access through oppressed feminine staff, and the sexual weaknesses of the men themselves, was swift and thoroughly enjoyable, made extra justifiable on learning of their corruption and involvement in the enslavement of women...” Eleanor’s own ripe excitement was diverted for a moment, by the deft applause of Constance and some of the other women, as they faced three black women with enchantingly noble looks and athletic physiques, the three Africans smiling smugly, Madams Ekua, Abla, and Naja, having shown the main usurper of Darkington, just who was the slave.

“ ... my plot to take back what was rightfully mine, went more smoothly than I could ever have imagined, due to that monstrous tyranny, the three quickly overwhelmed and dominated with the unanimous assistance of their own female staff ... and I’ll cherish the memory of the looks on the faces of those three forever, when after suffering thorough punishment and their wills broken by the whip, they were shown the gallows on which they’d hang ... and each erected with the pleasure of masochism that punishment had awarded them, magnifying my sense of utter triumph over them...” She licked her lips and sighed lustily as she peered up to their pride of place in humiliation at the very zenith of that lewd and suitably gaunt display of their carcasses, their bones now picked clean by grateful wildlife.

“They were not executed immediately, having learned their fate, they were given a week to thoroughly appreciate deserved submission to maid and mistress alike, and on the day, having been anally plugged and led naked but for their short white silk shrouds, they were further humiliated on being greeted by low donkey carts which bore the cages their corpses would know, at the onset of their final journey to the gallows...” Eleanor swooned with an erotic lust as she imagined the scene, cursing the world for the fact that she’d not been there to see their humiliation with her own eyes, and looking upon the smug smiles of the women who’d been there, with no uncertain jealously, Madam Beatrice prolonging that jealous lust as she continued.

‘ ... Oh yes, they were made patently aware of the fact that their humiliation would continue in perpetuity following their deserved display high upon the gallows, their wretched cadavers allowed no respite after death ... displayed on high in the cages they were then hitched to, and led by donkeys, made to crawl to the nooses which saw to it that they spent their last, high on display, each eager to know feminine pleasure in ridicule within those cages as they spurted in divine strangulation ... Darkington was mine!” Eleanor, Violet, and Agatha,, gasped in an erotic fervour as they joined in the raucous applause which rang out in a lusty earnest, while every woman their gazed up at the remnants of white silk, now tattered and stained yellowish in the top cages, their smug sense of satisfaction wholesome, some women, including Constance Templar, taking the opportunity to masturbate as they recalled that blissfully rewarding journey to the gallows. Beatrice merely sighed with sexual contentment at having new ladies hear of her ruthless acquisition of what was rightfully hers.

“Come ladies, you’ll be in need of refreshment...” She grinned as Constance let out a hearty groan of ecstasy, as did one or two of the other women, still gazing up as they readily nursed their budding clitorises.

“ ... refreshment of many sorts. no doubt.” The blonde Eleanor had just such a refreshment on her mind, as, on leaving the inner clocktower courtyard, she unhitched the gimp-masked C10, who had remained outside that inner sanctum of feminine power ... and would be put to very good use to her that day.

“Come my pet, my cunt is in dire need of your willing tongue service.” The naked C10 erected immediately as his eyes peeped through the mask at the Blondie’s elegant backside as he waddled on all fours in haste to keep up with her urgent stride, the promise of the whiff and taste of her cunt ensuring his absolute obedience.

Bonforth’s cock boned at the ridicule so eagerly served upon him by once serving girls he’d been pompous and short with when lord of Chaddington, taunted by them, as readily as all the other women there with spiteful aplomb, women who in their daily lives beyond the sexually explicit and hedonist haven of Darkington were seemingly ordinary, but in reality, many of them seeking out male candidates within those lives ... ever eager to see them suffer the exhibited and exquisite fate that Bonforth now faced. The pleasure of womanhood from serving girl through to nobility, in having him know he’d just 24 hours before indulging their ultimate pleasure, immersed him in a sexually submissive aura as he was displayed at a pole on the green behind the grand hall, to enjoy witnessing the humiliation of other males ... many of whom desired the noose, but none of whom had been confirmed of that masochistic pleasure ... not yet.

The blonde Eleanor Brigham cut a striking and startling presence as she strode across the lawns with female friends old and new, receiving admiring glances from many of the senior women there, pleased to have such a stunning example of femininity as part of their fold, especially as it were obvious that she had already found favour with Madams Beatrice Belvedere, Ella Hempleton, and the daring and bold woman through whom the sordid spectacles had been made possible with such professional execution, the divinely dominant Madam Agnes Fairchild. Eleanor sighed with wistful pleasure as the group of madam’s approached the gagged and white caped figure of Bonforth ... his erection poking high at seeing Agnes, the woman who’s cunt he’d sniff at on the gallows before knowing that final masochistic heaven. Eleanor smirked with a lusty contentment, as she goaded the cur with her ironic feelings.

“Well, Bonforth, it’s you I have to scold for stealing my thunder...” The other women chuckled cynically as he grunted through his gag and thrust his cock at the air, in both submissive delight, at being teased by this haughty and magnificent blonde. and with bemusement at her words.

“ ... I was asked to attend this exquisite venue on the pretence that it was to take part in the ‘dog show’ you’ll witness as your last public pageant here, so do enjoy and make the most of it ... as the public event which follows it will be of your display high on the rope on your deserved journey to death...” Agnes in particular, sighed with lusty admiration at her cruelty towards a male, as she now knew, the blonde relished the novel experience of seeing hang, the other women giving curt and sneering applause as she continued, and Bonforth boned in a delicious humiliation.

“ ... my greatest desire was to show the latest product of Madam Marie Roussell’s establishment, and offer his defeated soul for sale - something he is unaware of at the moment - the thrill of breaking him with that knowledge and seeing him sold into enslavement elsewhere, now pales into insignificance by comparison ... for that alone, I will have a personal justification in enjoying watching you hanged ... hanged slowly and your pain in punishment extended most thoroughly, we hope!” The women applauded wildly as a grunting Bonforth thrust his rigidly erect cock at the air, hoping upon hope that he’d have a clear view of the magnificent blonde’s satisfied smile as the noose exacted her will upon him. His longing to masturbate was thwarted by his bonds, and as the ladies departed, summoned by a whistle from a portly and authoritative woman, to announce the event was about to start.

Bonforth new his desire to spurt his load would be made even greater, on seeing the approach of The redheaded Bernadette, and the ginger Verity, who’d taunt him all the more throughout the lusty pageant of male humiliation in enslavement which would now whet the appetites of every woman there, for the main event on the following day ... which couldn’t come soon enough

Eleanor’s cunt was hot with arousal as she sneered down at C10, the gimp-mask having removed his once proud and pompous personality, reducing him to a mere sexual toy, his only pride remaining being that of being seen as the spiteful blonde’s pet. The erection which he sported for that knowledge, would soon bone harder in a submissive and lustily masochistic aura of defeat, when he heard the announcement that would be made by the portly woman whose sagging breasts had witnessed many of her expertly administered ‘dog shows’. He’d have to wait that dark pleasure though, as he, C8, and C9, were lined up like cattle by their mistresses, behind a waist high hoarding with countless other defeated wretches, behind a waist high hoarding which allowed the watching crowd the pompous satisfaction on the faces of those mistresses, but kept their curs hidden until summoned to be paraded in the shame of defeat.

The huge crowd of women, their enthusiasm to witness the humiliation of males, some of whom known to them, and their downfall ripely deserved in their eyes, was reduced to no more than excited and expectant murmurings as the portly women adjusted her tight waistband which emphasised those now sagging breasts and more than ample buttocks through her flowing dress, and smartly lifted a brassy tin loudhailer of the type used on ships at the time, and spoke boldly through it, her pompous tones magnified to draw in as many women on the perimeters know the pageant was to start ... and have the leashed males know in earnest that their humiliation was to begin.

“Welcome to our grand show ladies! ... we have some prime examples of defeated masculinity for you to see today!... “ Eleanor grinned down at C10 with a wicked smirk, as gasped through the mask at the actual announcement of he being one of a number of defeated males ... not that it wasn’t already patently obvious. They stood in a line, Madam Barbara Huntsford with recently acquired C9, who still wept openly at being forsaken by his dominant trainer, Elain Stringer, Violet Preston sporting C8, a male once known as Yates but now wholly owned, his previous personality consigned to anonymity, courtesy of the rubber hood by the woman he’d masturbated over. The three waited patiently behind several other women as the portly Show Mistress’s voice assailed the air across the dewy green, and told them that their public humiliation was imminent.