Chapter 1

To him, the women had seemed so innocent and chaste, the youngest, middle aged, some almost appearing frail. He could never have known of their true intentions, or believed that he had been selected for certain qualities he’d let slip in his own innocence ... and for which many of the women would all enjoy a mutual pleasure, though they ensuring they had more enjoyment more than he, till they tired of him as an amusement ... and would administer their coup de grace with the utmost, and domineering, pleasure, sealing his eternal fate in a strictly matriarchal community.

Spencer Thorpe encountered the first of the women at Pikes Hill craft fair, where he, as a relative newcomer to the village, had set up a stall to display his art work, something he did as a hobby ... and something which gave him a kick when creating certain images, though those weren’t on display here. He did have some images on display which may have been viewed as risque by some of the staid inhabitants of that rural parish, in that they were depictions of the female form, but they were straightforward in comparison to those he kept at home. Cathy Vincent was not one of those women who blinked and turned their noses up at his work, albeit politely, she detected something which excited a part of her persona which she also kept at home ... and among certain friends in the village.

Spencer had already noticed that the females of this rural idyll were the most vocal, and though there was a studied exposure and presence of the menfolk, they always appeared to be in the background, the women having an air of authority which excited him no end. He’d passed it off as a fantasy concocted by what his inner mind wanted to see; he’d always had a keen respect for authoritative women, his masturbation always involving being put firmly in his place by the will of mature womanhood ... but there was definitely something about the remote parish of Pike’s Hill, and its women, that was unusual, and Madam Cathy Vincent did nothing to absolve his mind of that fantasy. Spencer’s balls tingled a little, a spontaneous reaction when in the presence of women of a certain age, but this one had presence indeed. As she approached his stall, males who’d been browsing filtered away silently at the approach of her smile toward them, Spencer’s cock stiffening a little, sure that some unseen power existed which ensured their apparent obedience in doing so.

Cathy immediately sensed something about Spencer which had her nipples and clitoris awakening to her authoritative nature, males who ventured into art so openly, were usually open to diverse sexualities, and a depiction of what was obviously Salome dancing, had her guessing - and hoping - that this one had submissive tendencies where women were concerned. Her cunt tingled as she watched him swallow hard when she questioned him about the artwork with a smooth confidence to her tone.

“Oh ... what a wonderful depiction of Salome ... it is Salome I take it?” Though she knew damn well that it was; a male to the rear kneeling, another subtly blended into the rear as per the kneeling male, to the rear of the other side to the dancing woman, and holding a scimitar, the shapely girl taking the eye to the fore but the background of equal interest to those in the know ... she wanted to hear it from him, and gauge his interest in the matter, enjoy it, look for signs of a submissive nature. Spencer’s cock was up already, sensing a tease in her tone somehow, already fantasising about her, and thinking of masturbation later.

“Why ... yes ... yes it’s Salome...” He fought to think of something else, wanting to engage her for as long as possible, seeing her face almost developing a smirk, satisfied at his awkwardness in replying ... almost demanding more from him.

“ ... you’re ... you’re very perceptive ... most today ... especially the men, have just seen her as a dancing girl.” She grinned all the more, her eyes burning into him, longing to seize an opportunity to have him to herself somewhere.

“Oh most of the men round here would, it’s nice to meet one who’s a little more cultured ... and has an interest in such pleasing occurrences...” His cock boned at her reference to the beheading of a male at the whim of a woman, being pleasing. She toyed with him further, running her eyes across the other, more mundane but fairly talented depictions of landscapes etc.

“I see you’re a very talented man, diverse in your range, but I much prefer Salome, you should concentrate on producing more like her ... there’s many woman in our community who’d be interested in that, not least of all, me ... I did some modelling for artists many years ago, and would love to sit for you.” Spencer’s cock pulsed, his face blushing slightly, to the obvious pleasure of Cathy, as he swallowed hard again and thought on how seeing her pose in regal dominance would have him masturbating perpetually. He’d been dominated sexually by women before, but none of the relationships had lasted; their domination of him, a passing fad ... but he had strong feelings about this one’s confident and natural authority, he was already longing to shoot his seed for her in submission.

“I ... I did this one from my imagination, as per all my depictions of women, without a model ... but if you’re serious ... I’d be more than happy to oblige.” He reddened a little more on the thought of revealing he had more artworks of female subjects ... many of them very risque, and also confirming his obvious worship of feminine authority. Cathy pursed her red lips, and smiled smugly as she lifted her nose and perused every artwork there briefly, noting there was not one other of the female form, and guessing the nature of some - if not all - of them.

“You have more of ladies already? ... I should love to see those ... why no more here?”. She crossed her arms in authoritative fashion, having Spencer’s anus tingle like a schoolboy facing the cane, and was about to offer some excuse when a tall grey haired woman with very appealing features, strutted over in pompous style.

“I thought I’d find you here, Cathy...” The knowing and slightly sneering smile at Spencer, had his cock pulse rigid, this senior woman couldn’t be anything other than strictly dominant with masculinity, oozing a stern authority.

“ ... sampling newer stock to our little community, eh? ... so nice to have a fresh male within our little fold...” She grinned at him suggestively, looking him up and down.

“ ... I take it your wife keeps you on a taut leash?” His cock boned rigid as the two women smirked while he reddened; though the grey haired woman’s gesture may have been entirely innocent, her curt laughter suggested it wasn’t, and the idea of being on a leash to a woman was a pertly erotic thought. He swallowed hard and gave them an answer which had both cunts tingling nicely.

“Oh ... I ... I’m single.” The grey haired woman smiled smugly, already knowing she’d be in competition with Madam Vincent, who crossed her arms and pursed her lips whilst looking at her as she continued.

“Then you must join us at our singles club ... you’ll be made to feel most welcome.” Cathy smirked at the grey haired woman’s impertinent abduction of her male target’s attentions, though quietly pleased that she’d suggested somewhere which would be a level playing ground, where competition for his possible usage could be fought out between all the local women who’d no doubt find the idea of a fresh relationship, an arousing proposition ... especially as she’d already guessed he was a submissive, or could be moulded that way, as per all the other males who attended the club ... because they’d been told to. She grinned at her tall and equally mature friend, catching her eye and her look letting her know of her slight indignation at her intervention.

“I’m Cathy Vincent by the way, and this is Winifred Duvalier ... you are?”. His cock throbbed at the prospect of becoming involved with the community so easily, especially the feminine side ... and both women had an air of authority about them that excited him, his response, in a slightly broken tone and not a cocksure one, which emphasised a certain vulnerability, excited them too.

“I ... I’m Spencer ... Spencer Thorpe ... so nice to be part of this community, I ... I really like it here.” Both Cathy and Winifred smirked in a way that excited him further, he almost reading their thoughts, both women thinking just how nice they could make it for him. The mature and grey haired Winifred adding further spice to his already erotically charged imagination, pointing her finger to a stall on the opposite side of the green, one which had already been teasing an erection from him, on watching the strutting pomposity of some of the women visiting it.

“That’s my tack stall ... you know, equestrian items?... “ both she and Cathy grinned at seeing him swallow hard, as his thoughts went automatically to feminine thighs and pert buttocks ... and whips. She continued with an air of authority which was more of a command than a request.

“ ... you should also attend our riding club, even if you’ve have no real interest in horses ... we can always find something for men to assist with, whilst we women pose on horseback ... please do visit my stall at the day’s end, Cathy and I will be delighted to give you details of both fraternities.” His cock stiffened to a lusty rigidity, as Cathy added more spice and suggestiveness of dominance to the conversation.