Chapter 9

Faith felt duly invigorated, and sexually aroused at just being there, as she sat cross-legged in the pomp of her dominance at the Belle Epoch Café. The incognito departure of six women of varying notability on the home planet, having gone perfectly well; and now having arrived on the covertly hedonistic punishment planet of Vorlax 5 where identities were not a problem due to the ‘anything goes’ code there, the six women relaxed as they enjoyed the atmosphere of their being utterly superior.

Judge Winifred Blandish felt particularly at ease, her decadent desires for the sexual domination of masculinity, teased at every moment by the servile waiters; each male staff member having been convicted of some misdemeanour on the home planet, transported to Vorlax 5, and made to work as serving staff at the café. Winifred’s cunt buzzed on knowing that each one had been specially selected for those menial duties, having been in upper management, directors of companies, higher level accountants etc. when caught and convicted on the home planet.

Her cunt perked with an extra pleasure, on seeing a grey haired male whom she recognised as having been a very pompous high court official, who’d been short with her and other females, before his co-operation with a corrupt element had been uncovered. She pursed her lips with a wicked pleasure as she signalled to one of the female members of staff, chosen for their natural authority, and there to ensure the perfectly servile service of those males. A strutting example of feminine authority showed her pleasure in attending so dignified and obviously dominant woman; the café known to be a haunt for them anyhow, and Winifred’s black leather outfit and matriarchal presence left none in doubt.

“May I help you Madam?” A sneering Winifred pointed to the middle-aged and still portly male - though his time at the café had reduced his weight from when he bossed females at court - the gesture drawing the attention of the other women she sat with.

“Have that servant attend me ... I demand his service.” The severe looking maid, her dyed black hair contrasting with her white skin, put her hands to her hips and still managed to flick the short stiff whip she carried onto her slender thigh.

“Has the servant displeased Madam?” Winifred looked up to the girl, and smiled wickedly, having her smile wistfully in response.

“Not yet, but I’ll see that he earns your discipline.” The smiling waitress come controller didn’t hesitate further, and strutted over to the portly male, gaining the interest of other customers as she lifted her whip and pointed it to Winifred’s table with an authority that no subservient male could disobey. Other male servants scurried about the tables with an edge to their haste to serve, knowing the prowess of the raven haired beauty with her whip, the chosen hapless male blushing visibly and bringing even more smiling attention from customers as he was made to attend Winifred, her cunt hot for some sexual excitement. She grinned with pleasure as he was made to stand at her table, the centre of the entire cafe’s attention.

“Thompson isn’t it? ... I remember you well from your days at court on the home planet ... I trust you’re enjoying your new duties.” The women laughed and sneered at the once pompous male, now trembling with anticipation of further humiliation and punishment - of a kind he was slowly being taught to enjoy, his back and buttocks bearing the marks of the whip of the girl stood next to him, hidden at the moment by his waiter apparel - all those within earshot thoroughly enjoying the impromptu entertainment, whilst women’s eyes from afar enjoyed the visual treat of a once arrogant male put to menial service. He croaked out a reply, his cock rising at recognising a woman he’d looked down on in his former life, now far behind him.

“Yes ... yes Madam.” Winifred casually picked up her coffee cup, and extending her booted foot out from under the table, poured the dregs out onto her toe with a spiteful grin.

“I think you’d better clean that up ... very lax of you to allow that to happen...” His cock boned as he took the tea-towel from his waist band, and knelt down before the magnificent woman, intending to wipe it clean ... only for her to bark another order at him.

“Lick it clean! ... I don’t want that grubby towel on my boots!” Thompson went down, his cock now rigid with the perverse pleasure and irony of being humiliated by a woman he’d belittled in the past, she now very much his superior, his balls tingling at hearing the sneers and laughter of other women, particularly those who could see and witness his demoralisation as he eagerly plied his tongue to her boot leather. Equally, Winifred’s cunt swelled with dominant pride as her prowess in controlling masculinity was witnessed by all, her spite for him growing by the second as he grovelled at her feet, dominated. Her cousin Miriam, sighed with pleasure, as did her lover Jennifer proctor, although lesbian, it gave her a perverse and vindictive thrill to see items of masculinity put firmly in their place below women. The two women fingered each other’s cunts below the table, their actions beneath it hidden, but their sighs above it apparent to the other smiling women as Thompson was duly humiliated, and deservedly so.

The sneers of the female party, and the soft applause from other female customers had his cock bone all the more as he plied his tongue in utter subservience to a woman he’d once belittled, the promise of the spiteful waitress’s whip driving him on, the taste and smell of Winifred’s leather having him wishing he was sniffing at her cunt. Winifred ensured he’d be whipped, satisfying her sadistic urges ... for now.

“I think you’ve been very lax in your duties, allowing that to happen ... I want to see you whipped.” The women within earshot applauded the decision heartily, confirming to the young Ginger, that the reputation of the Belle Epoch as one being a haunt for dominant women was well founded. Matron grinned at seeing her excitement as she and the rest of the party of scheming women applauded too.

“You’ll see plenty of things that’ll please you while here, Ginger my girl ... and this little café is just the tip of the iceberg where male servility is concerned on this section of the punishment planet.” The redheaded girl’s cunt bulged its needy clitoris forth as she watched the spiteful waitress point the hapless and defeated male to her own feet, she smiling wickedly as he grovelled, bringing further smug remarks from Matron, whose own cunt was hot for the impromptu entertainment.

“He’ll have not dreamed of the treats to be had at being at the mercy of a woman ... but now he’ll be lusting for the whip in humiliation, taught his rightful place, taught to enjoy submission in its extremes.” As Ginger openly rubbed at her cunt through the wet gusset of her panties, Madam Vera Spitzen smiled wistfully at the sexual excitement seeing a male dominated publicly, thrilled the spiteful girl.

“I have a male in service at my correction house, who’ll be pleasured to take the whip from you, young lady ... and his tongue will deal with your excitements and exertions most expertly when you’ve sated your lust with the lash ... I can vouch for that personally.” Ginger nearly came at the promise of venting her spite, her cunt wetter than ever as she sighed and took in the delectable vista of a woman no older than her, showing a middle-aged male his place with her whip. Thompson squirmed and grovelled at the waitress’s feet as she applied her whip with relish, his eyes daring to take in the pleasure on the faces of his watching female audience, his erection pulsing, not just at the feel of the whip as he howled ... but knowing that a secondary punishment for being whipped on displeasing a customer, would be that he’d be made to wear a female outfit and serve whilst effeminised for a month, his shame providing a richly deserved humiliation.

As the waitress’s vigorous and liberal applications of the whip quickly reduced him to the tears which were viewed with spiteful gratitude by his audience, his bleary eyes took in the smile of a huge, plump woman, her bulk almost taking up the seats of two chairs, a mute and subservient male squashed tight next to her, his near expressionless face hiding the fact that he was nicely erect at seeing the waitress’s prowess and vigour with the whip. Lady Agatha Crompton squeezed the male’s thigh and glanced at him, as if to say ‘do you remember the first time I whipped you?’ ... and the male’s cock erected hard as his mind went back to the delicious way in which he’d become enslaved to her fleshy mounds, and the sumptuous cunt which nestled in her silky folds...