Chapter 3

As Miller’s eyes blinked at the bright sunshine as the lid was lifted at the rear of the car, the first thing he focused on was the smiling and excited faces of Tara and Hortense, his Mistress’s maids showing an intensity toward him as though they’d not seen him for a month, on hauling him out by his leash, and having him display the evidence of his ordeal. The erotic delight their spiteful minds felt in what they saw was evident to him, noting their pert nipples poking hard through their tight silk blouses, as they both flicked at his sore buttocks with the short whips they carried, their sneering pleasure in seeing his eyes as red as the wheals on his backside - many of the stroke marks purplish and blueing, testament to the length and intensity of his ordeal - awarding them an extra sadistic pleasure as they teased his tortured flesh with the stinging flicks of whips of their own.

Miller’s eyes were also drawn to the obvious attendance of others to Madam Pamela Longstaff’s residence that evening, noting that along with the cars he’d become familiar with as those belonging to Madams’ Cheryl Winter and Dorothy Banding, there were many expensive and luxurious vehicles parked up. Pamela smirked as she strutted past him, giving him a good view of her generous buttocks moving delectably in her tight leather skirt, her panties below it already wet with arousal at the spectacle to come, delighted to see Miller’s bewilderment at the array of vehicles, Hortense in charge of his leash and unable to withhold her excitement on seeing his impromptu inspection of them.

“You’re in for a real treat now, having spent all you can for Madam Elaine!” The sneering Tara flicked his striped backside a little harder with her whip, eager for him to progress as she added her tease.

“Oh yes, we’ve a little something that’ll make sure you don’t come again ... not till you hang on the gallows!” Pamela opened the door amid the spiteful laughter from her maids, their cunts as moist as hers as she interjected in a curt tone, aimed at the defeated male, as much as her maids.

“Not too much information my girls ... we don’t want to spoil the surprise for him!” Miller’s cock was teased to the beginnings of a dull erection, despite the intense milking he’d enjoyed and endured courtesy of Madam Elaine and her maids, as his eyes took in Pamela’s rear on being led on his leash by Hortense and held to obedience by Tara’s whip - led by mere girls and showing his utter and undeniable submission to them - on his nose taking in the lush perfumes of feminity, and his ears taking in the sound of the cynical, scathing, and sneering applause of massed femininity, as he was shown in shame before a vast audience of womanhood who populated the large lounge and went beyond into the gardens through the open patio doors. Pamela’s cunt bulged to full arousal as she basked in her triumph over masculinity once more, taking in the adoration of every woman there.

“See how he’s beaten, ladies ... see how he’s ripe for the gallows he’s so readily earned his appointment with!” Miller’s balls and anus tingled with a lush mixture of masochism and fearful expectation, as he too basked in their inspection of him and his striping of his flesh he’d so readily deserved. Those looks at him were far from adoration though; the quaking male swallowed hard behind the ball-gag which silenced his irrelevant opinions or pleas, as the curt looks of contempt were universally open to him, from an array of sexily dressed women of varying ages, the looks from the older members bearing the smugness of women who’d seen Pamela parade males before ... then had the exquisitely satisfying pleasure of seeing them hanged.

As he was taken on a circuit of lounge and garden by Pamela and the proudly dominating maids, the striped evidence of his submission to feminine dominance exploited in his shaming, he noted a low table set centrally, the sneering eyes of many of the women leading his eyes to it as he passed it once, then again the other side, two objects upon it, covered with black lace handkerchiefs. His dull erection was fed the lush eroticism of his casual yet pompous and scathing audience, their tight black evening wear expressing their figures as they sipped wine, their scents teasing his mind - it was as though they wanted him to achieve a boning erection in their honour ... then Hortense jerked him back on his leash, to have him kneel facing that table. Keeping his head high and back, Tara then took his arms and held them by the wrists behind his back, the audience hushing as a smiling Pamela stood close to the table, and leered down at him with a contemptuous sneer.

“Every woman here wants to see you come ... but they want to see it when you’re displayed on high!...” Her sneer edged to a wicked smile as she whisked one of the lace handkerchiefs away, and held a metallic object high, crudely cock-shaped, and attached to a clasping ring which Miller knew would soon be tight around the neck of his scrotum. His gasps and look of bewilderment were drowned out by the delighted applause of the feminine audience, and on it dying down, Pamela continued with a curt and sadistic delight of her own, as Miller was shown what he faced.

“ ... Yes Miller, you’ll not masturbate or come ... your cock will know subdued confinement until you suffer for our pleasure on the rope!...” Miller gasped through the gag, Hortense satisfying her sadism by keeping his head high as she kept the leash nice and taut, ensuring every woman could see the expressions on his face as Pamela toyed with the device.

“ ... and this is no ordinary cock-cage, as you’ll see ... it’ll have you yearn for the gallows with every forbidden erection you’ll inevitably attempt!...” The women thoroughly enjoyed the look of fear on his face, as Pamela eagerly parted the hinged compartments of the reduced length shaft, and those of the dome which would hold the flesh of his bell to obedience ... each section adorned with vicious spikes ... some of those about the rear of the dome, angled upwards - once erect in confinement, they’d hold his bell in tortuous captivity. The audience of women watched with spiteful satisfaction as Pamela crouched down, and taking his semi-flaccid manhood in her hands, clasped the holding ring about Miller’s scrotum, and smiling wickedly into his eyes, made her intentions very sincerely indeed.

“Such a pity you have to remain gagged, I’d so love to hear you beg ... and you’ll beg for the gallows with every erotic notion you have, believe me!” Her sexual pleasure peaked, her cunt wet with arousal, as she had him grunt in discomfort on easing the compartments closed over his cock, the spikes introducing themselves to his masochistic mind immediately ... and his mind trying to hold back an inevitable erection as the women laughed, sneered, and jeered at his discomfort. Pamela was determined he’d not escape the full pleasure of its pain, and as Miller gasped and grimaced to further delight his audience as his erecting cock scraped across the needle sharp spikes in his unconscious urgency to know the device’s full punishment, the woman who’d have him hang for her pleasure, slipped her panties off from beneath her leather skirt, and with a sneering smile, masked Miller’s contorting face with them.

Miller moaned audibly through the gag, as the soiled gusset offering the delectable whiffs of aroused cunt and seasoned anus of the woman who’d dominated him, gave him no chance whatsoever in attempting a rigid erection. The sheer pleasure and spite offered from the smiling faces of every woman there, had his bell slip up to, and duly swell up, to have him know the true venom of those inverted spikes, having him know the true price of his feeble submission before womanhood ... and as the sweat dribbled from his brow with the creasing pain as he writhed in a show of torture which delighted the feminine crowd, the applause directed at him was diverted for a moment, as Madam Amanda Fairchild, the Executrix, emerged with a smile from the crowd, the sight of her, and the tight black satin dress she wore, which expressed her full figure deliciously, did nothing to ease the taunted make’s erection.

Amanda stood hand on hip, thoroughly enjoying the contortions on the face of a male she’d soon have dropping through the trap on her gallows, and she’d now take his masochistic pleasure to another level, in preparation for his deliciously anticipated exhibition on the rope. A moaning Miller’s eyes watched the supremely dominant woman grin as she whisked away the second handkerchief ... and held high the death mask of the drone, to rapturous applause from femininity united in their pleasure in seeing it.

Miller now snorted hard at the lusty whiffs of the gusset as his eyes peered from either side of it ... his cock now boning and bloodied by the needle sharp spikes as he took in the smugly triumphant look of a dominant woman, proudly holding high the image of a male she’d hanged with such pleasure. She and those women close enough, laughed cynically on seeing a dribble of blood drip from the wicked cage, confirmation that his manhood was being duly punished, awarding them a deeply sadistic satisfaction, Amanda then ensuring his masochism was further fuelled as she had the mask face him.

“See the pleasure on the face you recognise! ... just look at how he was erotically indulged at knowing the rope by the hand of a woman!...” Miller gasped and bit hard on the ball-gag, as the teasing pain of the spikes at his cock was entertained by her words ... and the serene look of bliss on the face of the mask, testament to her words, the whole scenario so inescapably erotic to a submissive male. Manda was not done yet, not by a long chalk.

“ ... you’ll soon know that pleasure, and how you deserve it! ... savour the look on his face and keep it in mind for your appointment ... knowing your snuffed face will look likewise!...” She sighed as the swell of her cunt tingled with lush arousal as he squirmed in pain ... and a masochistic ectasy he’d never experienced, as she then brought him to a new submissive nadir, holding the mask forward and taunting him with its expression of resignation to absolute feminine authority.

“ ... and just think how your humiliation will continue after your death ... every woman here recognising the look of defeat on your face with smug satisfaction, when YOUR mask is used to taunt the next male in readiness for my rope!” Under a scathing and mocking applause at Madam Amanda Fairchild’s erotically charged sadism, Miller snorted hard at the rich odours of the gusset, the angled barbs of the spikes in the dome biting at the flange of his rock hard bell, bringing fresh tears of pain and pleasure at the thought of being shown in humiliation after death. Those years brought extra and lusty attention from his audience, increasing their spite and contempt for him no end, their cunts were brought to a heady arousal in yearning to see him on the rope he so truly deserved ... and as those barbs tortured his bell, the scent of that gusset, and the serene look of defeated masculinity held high by the woman who’d proudly hold his likeness with dominant satisfaction keeping those masochistic tears flowing ... no person in attendance yearned for that rope more than he.

Miller was to be allowed no relief from either the device, or from the taunts of his Mistress, maids, and the many women who visited Pamela’s residence in regal feminine pomp, just to have Miller know how excited they were about his appointment with the rope, many giving the sneering opinion as he!issued their feet, that they hoped he’d be reduced to tears a final time when the lever was jarred back ... so exquisite had been their pleasure in seeing him cry when shown the level of his defeat before an audience of women; some having Miller’s cock test the barbs by suggesting he’d cried in fear at seeing the mask, their cruel pleasure in suggesting it, confirmed by the scent of their richly aroused cunts, as Miller would be treated to a sniff of their pleasure on the loose skirts they wore especially for the occasion being lifted. Miller cursed the gag he wore on those occasions, longing to belittle himself before those women by indulging their fantasies by admitting to tears for that reason ... even though it were only partly true, it had him sniff those cunts with particular vigour.

As for the device, that too drew an audience which Miller could not have envisaged. On the morning after its fitting, he having been allowed to urinate through its meager slot, and having enjoyed the pain of the sting of his own urine at the wounds, to allow as best as flaccidity as possible, it was then swiftly removed. Then, before an eager audience of maids and early female visitors his cock was deftly wiped clean with an antiseptic, awarding him further stinging and delight from his onlookers. He’d noted Pamela’s spiteful mood echoed by her sneering maids, as the woman who owned him proudly showed the audience of eager women how the intricate device could be adjusted, her smile at his gagged face, particularly intense.

“You see ladies, this device is especially punitive for those males like mine, so deserving of it for their masturbation...” The women watched with spiteful interest, and Miller with masochistic awe, as her elegant fingers clicked at adjusting rings at both the shaft and the bell of the device, her smile at him intensifying as the barbs were moved round a few millimetres, the small audience of women gasping and laughing sarcastically, some clapping their hands, as he made sure Miller understood what was already patently, and painfully, obvious to him.

“Oh yes ladies ... some fresh incisions will add extra pleasure to the soreness from the old wounds...” Miller grunted through the gag as the women’s sneering laughter continued while the maids and Pamela quickly clamped his cock back into the device, spitefully conscious of the fact he’d erect with just the thought of it. Pamela’s smile of triumph was echoed with a lusty sigh as she locked the closed device to the scrotum ring, and fondled his balls.

“You’re so longing to come, aren’t you Miller? ... so we’ll soon have punished by your own erection...” He gasped and grunted through the gag, unable to avoid the lust and yearning to spurt, the smug eyes of onlooking femininity ensuring it, as his swelling cock was scraped and teased by fresh abrasions, on its way to knowing the full and barbaric penalty for his submissive and deeply masochistic arousal. His contorting face as the barbs made themselves known to fresh areas of his swelling bell-end, had a bespectacled and pertly dominant Matriarch rub at her cunt through her lifted skirt, her sexual excitement intense on having viewed the spikes of the device up close.

“Ohhh ... ohhh ... Let him be reduced to tears! ... Please! ... Ohhhh ... I want to know he’s suffered every moment before being relieved by the rope!” Miller gasped through his gag, staring at the sadistic hatred toward masculinity that emanated from her face as those barbs bit into the flesh of his glans, holding his manhood to tortuous order, a whine through his gag brought delighted applause from the other women, in recognition that his total obedience to the spikes had been so rightly achieved.

With his head held firmly back on the leash by a proud Hortense, so’s he face was in full view to the delighted women, and he with a full view of their enjoyment of him, he longed to spurt his mess, but no stimulation other than the ever increasing bite of those spikes was offered, but the dark pleasure of utter submission to femininity and masochism was awarded him as he obliged the Matriarch with tears of pain and submission. Their contemptuous laughter at the tears which rolled down his cheeks, and the deep sigh of ecstasy from the matriarch as she orgasmed at the sight of them, had him wallow in a humiliated ecstasy of his own, seeing those faces and their laughter as he spurted on the rope, couldn’t come soon enough.

Miller’s ordeal by barbs continued till the morning of his hanging, Pamela, Tara, and Hortense, ensuring the final adjustments to the devices rings of barbs were done swiftly; the women conscious of his need to come due to no relief in four days of spiteful domination, the fact that he obviously sensed today was the day ... emphasised by the fact that all three remained naked. Miller’s quickly erecting cock was forced back into the device, his moans through the gag soon transformed into open gasps of discomfort on that gag being removed by a delighted Pamela.

“Yes Miller, today’s the day you’ll pay for your masturbation ... you’re going to hang today, so enjoy those barbs whilst you lick our cunts for the last time!” He studied every soft crease of her mature body, and the sneering smiles of the nubile maids, as he was laid back on the bed by them, the bite of those barbs almost blissful now, as his swelling cock rose up the device to greet them, while the spread thighs and lushly broad buttocks of the woman who’d consigned him to the gallows, descended to have him sample the rich aromas of her sexual excitement, the spices of her cunt and anus ensuring his tortured cock knew the full, and duly deserved, benefit of those barbs, the soft smothering of his dominant owner’s hot and smoothly shaven cunt enveloping his face as she rode him.

Pamela squatted and squeezed her clitoris and anus back and forth across the contours of Miller’s beaten face with blissful contentment and haughty justification, as she worked her way to an ecstatic orgasm at his expense. Her thoughts on the pleasures of seeing him hang that day, bringing her swiftly to a well deserved orgasm for her rightful achievement in seeing yet another worthless male to the gallows, her lusty moaning almost transmitting her sadistic thoughts to the defeated Miller, who now lusted for the rope he’d earned himself ... and the final spurt n pure ectasy as the noose entertained both him, and the delighted feminine audience he knew awaited him.

After dismounting, and though deliciously sated, Pamela continued to finger her mature cunt as she watched both Tara and Hortense ride Miller’s face with equally sadistic contentment, her manicured finger caressing the nub of her clitoris, eager to know a further orgasm at his expense ... as he jiggered toward the death on the rope he’d earned, for her pleasure. Miller savoured every moment, sensation, and spicy, tangy, taste of defeat on being ridden by Pamela and her maids, knowing this was the last time he’d fulfill them that way ... his cock bitten sweetly by the barbs as he dwelt on how he’d fulfill their sadism in ultimate fashion shortly.

Miller gasped through a slippery mouth as the ball- gag was swiftly re applied, the dribbles of cunt juices still evident around his cheeks and chin, he, allowed no time for unnecessary cleansing as the women hastily prepared him in their urgency in seeing him to the gallows. Pamela offered her cunt a final fingering as she held the short white shroud high with her free hand, Miller seeing her nipples poking rock hard with sadistic pleasure on having him see it again.

“Yes Miller! ... this is yours today! ... you’ll feel the humiliation it’ll award you, as soon as it’s on ... and how you’ll feel that humiliation as it adorns you when high on the rope!” His tortured bell squeezed lustily at the wicked barbs holding it to the pleasure of dominant womanhood, as the shroud was placed over his head, it’s short length seeming to encourage his sense of being feminised by it, the laughter of the women on seeing him belittled by it, ensuring a thick thread of sticky pre-cum oozed from the slot in the device, the humiliation of knowing it was the last thing he’d wear, having his anus flutter and squeeze in masochistic pleasure at the huge anal plug ... the humiliation of utter defeat at the hands of womanhood, divine, as their laughter continued. The collar and leash was duly applied, and the women swiftly donned the tight black outfits suitable for a funeral, Pamela looking supremely dominant in black leather skirt and black lace stockings on black stilettos ... her smile a spitefully contented one as she tugged his leash.

“The gallows await you Miller, and so do a host of eager women ... come! ... let’s see you to the rope you want as eagerly as they do!” Amid their cackling laughter as he was tugged to the car, his mind went back to his masturbation at the mound, and rather than feel cursed by it, his cock strained at the barbs in submissive ectasy in thanks for his capture that day. The feel of the shroud, his excessive anal plug, and the tortured confinement of his cock, had him long to see Madam Fairchild and the smiles of all those women, as he was ordered in with the spare wheel for his final car journey.

There was no respite for him, as the the lid on his servile confinement was lifted on the car being driven into Madam Fairchild’s residence, the obscuring gates slammed close behind them ... and scornful jeering and applause from a horde of excited women flooding in with the daylight as he was exposed. His anus pulsed with a lusty fear, as kneeling, shrouded in the rear of the car as he was tugged from it, he noted the glass domed roof below which the gallows lay, and erected hard against the barbs on wondering if the ecstatic cheer of dominant womanhood would be audible outside, as he dropped through the trap in satisfying them. He sniffed at the prevailing scents of feminity, and gasped through the gag as he was shown to a black and softly cushioned carpet way, Pamela leering with delight as he was led on all fours toward it.