Chapter 14

Martha’s cunt was immediately in need of tongue service from Cecil, her sense of satisfaction peaking on hearing those vast gates close behind her, as the entourage of goods and human offerings entered on its entirety, her clitoris poking hard at having successfully brought Cecil to the last place he’d see ... and one she could sense he already felt a foreboding as those gates were crashed shut amongst the sound of the whips of feminine authority over masculinity utilised to perform the task. Cecil’s cock perked high in his leggings, despite any misgivings he might have harboured, the euphoria of all the women, especially those senior matriarchs who’d visited before, exciting both his submissiveness and his masochism as they grinned with an obvious sexual excitement of their own at the sound of those whips. He now knew he was in the domain of strict feminine authority gossiped about on the journey ... and longed to be of use to Martha as Mirabelle was ushered forward by the haughty Madam Agnes.

His cock boned in submission as he took in the sight of the magnificent Sultana Ariya, her eyes peering over a niqab which indicated her origins, though the four prone and subservient males who’d transported her, poked their reddened backsides high in the air as they knelt in obedience, showing that those masculine origins which dictated her manner of dress did not apply to her in any way. Her breasts poked their nipples proudly through the tight leatherette bodice she wore, her sexual excitement immediate on seeing her prize of yet another western male, feminised already, and soon to be relieved of the tokens of masculinity by her hand, ensuring that her new maid would be bereft of testosterone, and reduced to a state of absolute femininity to be sold on in service to a woman of her ilk. Their despisement of masculinity - especially those of Western origin - could then be thoroughly enjoyed with the relating of the white maid’s previous masculine arrogance, as the serving maid bowed and obeyed before feminine friends.

The Sultana’s cunt oozed beneath her long silken skirts, no underwear worn on a suitably hot day where the sniffing of her excited womanhood would be required, the heat when inside the Sudan chair, and her thoughts of yet another castration ceremony, ensuring her cunt would be richly seasoned ... it’s whiff staying in the memory of her new prize, long after the testes had been removed, and the sexual excitement that went with them, cruelly erased. Mirabelle curtsied low, and in a passionate obedience to the woman who’d now own her as Agnes confirmed the transaction.

“We meet again, Sultana Ariya ... this is Mirabelle, as promised.” The effeminised male’s cock poked rigid, his anus tingling wildly at the cold but exciting reality that his old life was gone forever now and he had truly been sold as a maid to a dominant eastern woman, as the sultana slipped her hand deftly up Mirabelle’s skirts, and grinned with satisfaction on feeling the hard erection of a submissive and humiliated male ... and the balls which fired that standing penis, balls which she’d soon take pleasure in having them removed and pickled. Ariya gave the orbs a little squeeze then sneered at the maid.

“Kneel! Mirabelle dropped to her knees without question, and the audience of women feigned their dignified pomposity, gasping and mimicking shielding their faces, as the Eastern woman split her silken skirts at the side, and deftly covered the kneeling maid with them, the intimate cloaking obviously bringing the shrouded dome of the effeminised male’s head close to the supreme woman’s cunt. The women now grinned openly on seeing the maid quiver beneath Ariya’s skirts, knowing that the sultry heat of the day, the cloaking, and the strict woman’s dominant arousal, would ensure his nose and senses were held to sampling a rich sexual aroma indeed. Ariya sneered as she put a firm hand behind the cloaked head, and ensured the nose of her newly acquired maid received the full benefit of her excitement. She looked to the heavens and closed her eyes, her clitoris tight against the bridge of the maid’s nose.

“Take in the scent of feminine power! ... know the perfumes of ownership that you will worship from now on!” Beneath the skirts, Mirabelle’s cock ached to come, overwhelmed by the spicy whiffs of the cunt of a woman he knew would dominate and use him thoroughly. As he snorted at the tart arousal of her womanhood, his nose deep in the folds of her shaven slot, he couldn’t know that the orgasm he craved would be his last. Ariya’s arousal was such that her spiteful nature was up, and wouldn’t be sated without her making an immediate example of the Western male she now owned. Her wickedness grew as her clitoris rubbed the face of a defeated male, her grin then going to words as she faced the women.

“Mirabelle will ride with me in my chair ... you will all follow, I hope ... I’ve decided to have her initiation ceremony immediately...” She whisked the skirts from over Mirabelle’s head, on receiving excited nods of approval from Agnes and the other matriarchs, then went to the fitter of the four subservient males chained to her sedan chair, whispering something to him after releasing him, and giving him a cursory stroke of her whip, sending him to her palatial residence with orders. As the slave scampered away, death having been promised him if not showing haste, she then eyed the few dominated males within the entourage.

“I’ll need a replacement male to assist my transport ... especially as it’ll have Mirabelle’s weight within it too.” Cecil’s cock twitched longingly at the thought of being harnessed and knowing the whip of such a spitefully attractive woman; his recent masturbations had had him fantasise about that natural spite that many Eastern women had, but the domineering Madam Martha Hilbrand, whose masturbations would increase now she neared a delicious goal, guessed his thoughts and brought him sharply down to earth with a commanding and satisfied sneer which was fuelled by that pleasure she had in mind.

“You’ll not be chosen, you’re not strong enough ... your feeble physique is more likely to get you replaced as a Mirabelle...” His cock perked at that thought too, and at the lush belittling y the woman who’d seen to it that he’d been brought to this Eastern heaven, as other women who’d overheard his dominant mentor’s comment laughed at his expense. Martha smiled wickedly, her cunt hot for the revised agenda regarding the feminised male, making another comment to Cecil which was intentionally made audible enough for her fellow female ears.

“ ... don’t you fret Cecil, you’ll see something when we arrive at Sultana Ariya’s residence which will thrill your masochism like nothing else.” The women tittered at his look of bewilderment, justly held in control by the authority of Martha, then their cunts swelled as a youthful male, dominated by governesses through developing years, bred specifically for sale by the matriarchal queen who owned him, was ordered from the crowd of leering women, made to strip naked, and though with a demure face, his cock stood high as he was harnessed to the chair ... and poked rigid and lustily as a smiling Ariya hooded him. With his identity removed, which would now only be recognised by his whiter skin, he would also provide a satisfying target for her whip, which he was then made to become familiar with.

The entourage of Western femininity, not least the Matriarchal owner of the harnessed Western male, looked on with sadistic approval as he was whipped to encourage his enthusiasm by Ariya ... the dominant Eastern goddess already contemplating purchasing the male, and perhaps another, to be displayed permanently in harness at her transport. She grinned as she led Mirabelle into the chair, sat, and had he effeminised male kneel between her legs as she lifted her skirts once more; she’d have her cunt sniffed at throughout the journey. With a satisfied sneer upon her face as that nose pressed eagerly to know the delicious whiff of absolute authority, she cracked her whip through the open front of the chair, stinging the white flesh of her new and submissive recruit.

“Up! ... and onward!” Cecil’s cock tented his leggings with a masochistic jealousy, on once again boarding their transports, watching intently as the white male stumbled a little at first, and received the whip once more, his cock poking high and erect, overshadowing the semi-erections of his three Eastern counterparts, whose whippings to submission had become almost routine. The Eastern male this side also laboured a little as he fought to show the new male the route to take ... and immediately had his cock poke a little higher, on also receiving the attentions of the Sultana via her whip. The Matriarch who owned the harnessed male grinned with smug satisfaction, her cunt hot with arousal, at seeing her property reduced exquisitely to the use of Eastern matriarchy in a way she could never have envisaged, her bulging and aroused womanhood matching the erection of her charge, as his lust for feminine dominance lapsed into an erotic euphoria, harnessed, hooded, and deservedly whipped.

Cecil took in the uniform smugness of Martha and the other women, having his balls tingled in anticipation of what they thought on, as the carts trundled across rough tracks, then the jostling of pert bodies ceased as the smooth roads of the citadel were enjoyed. His eyes took in the plush residences closer to the roads, noting gallows and crucifix like erections, complete with shackles were commonplace within the gardens. curiously set out on green spaces within displays of horticulture, as per garden benches in the world he’d left behind. The crack of the whip ahead took his eyes to the sedan chair, as it veered into the entrance way of a vast white marble residence marked with imposing white domes ... though beyond it, in the distance was an even more impressive structure, stadium like, which Cecil noted had the women show an even greater excitement. Their wistful, and longing looks toward it had him look to an equally pleased looking Martha, whose grin masked her inner sexual excitement.