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By Command Of Julia's InvitationChapter 8 free porn video
Creed’s excitement at the prospect of being tried, condemned to death, and hanged by women, was more than evident to Julia’s pleased eyes as they boarded the cab manned by the female drivers present at a prior funeral; even their erotic amusement was made patently clear on seeing that Clarissa Hammond was with the party. The shapely cabbies were more than aware of Clarissa’s gallows game, being privy to the otherwise covert ways of the society, their service often required where deserving males were in need of being transported in secrecy. The plump ginger one, whose curt smile had aroused Creed on his entry in a white shroud, addressed Clarissa as she squirmed her thighs in the tight leggings.
“Will we be required to wait for the return ... Madam Hammond?” Clarissa smiled warmly at the freckled ginger beauty as she pursed her red lips in eager anticipation, and the equally expectant stare of her uniformly dressed brunette counterpart; both were of good service to the women, and the sight of the horsewhips and tight leggings, so rare on Victorian women, would add extra spice to the audience at ‘execution’.
“Why of course ... and I’d be pleased if you’d like to attend indoors while you wait, should that be your pleasure.” The ginger woman’s excitement nearly boiled over, at not having to make the further request to witness the darkly erotic proceedings take place, as she had a personal interest in viewing the punishment; her eyes had met with Creed’s on his alighting the cab, and a spark of recognition caused the penitent male’s cock to rise in the shroud at it. Prior to her bold venture as a cabbie, she had been in service, and had witnessed the previously natural male chauvinism from a certain Mr. Creed firsthand. Her pleasure at seeing him attired for obvious punishment in the company of stern women, including Clarissa, whose erotic penchant for humiliating males in the most severe fashion, had her moisten with arousal immediately.
“Oh thank you Madam Hammond ... thank you ... I shall so enjoy seeing Mr. Creed receive justice at the hand of a woman.” She blushed immediately, at finding herself having said too much, while the brunette covered her mouth and tittered. Clarissa was now more pleased than ever, and smiled openly, her face wracked with spiteful curiosity at the young woman knowing his name.
“You’re acquainted with my male? ... and his ‘guilt’ in some way?” The young woman recovered her composure, feeling a little more confident given Clarissa’s informality toward her, and flicked her horsewhip coquettishly in sexual excitement, then leaned over to speak softly, lest the occupants of the cab overheard.
“I was in service to Mr. Creed briefly, he was never brutal or unkind physically, but his arrogance was typical of all males. Seeing him shrouded and in your hands has given me such a thrill.” Clarissa smirked with a deliciously haughty pleasure which had her cunt tingle with a thrill of its own.
“Then you’ll be a special guest at the proceedings, young lady, and when the time comes you’ll address him as Creed, not Mr. Creed ... you are in authority now.” She smiled and entered the cab, her eyes bearing down on the kneeling Creed with lush anticipation.
The elated ginger haired cabbie cracked her whip, with the brunette smiling at their luck as they headed for Madam Hammond’s residence. It was unusual for cabs to be manned by pairs at that time, but such was the chauvinism and open abuse directed at females who dared challenge masculinity in roles perceived to be the rigid domain of that gender, that the two found it safer to pair up. The bright hair and equally vivid pale skin of Lizzy Grimmond was readily recognisable at a distance, and she was held with some notoriety amongst those in the cab ranks at which she and Bella Crick were made to feel awkward. Both had also been subjected to lewd sexual advances in occasion, which added to that notoriety, as the pair had shown those making advances, their prowess with the whip; the instances creating the openly accepted rumour that the two were ‘toms’, but the covert and truthful thoughts of many males giving rise to a healthy erection on encountering them, in that they were sexually dominant, and their feminine power with the whip was something earnestly desired ... but necessarily kept hidden from their male colleagues.
Both had regularly found submissive partners through that notoriety, who found themselves subjected to a role reversal which was mutually enjoyable after enforcement by their bold Mistresses; finding confirmation that neither were lesbian in their sexual desires and reduced to a life of domestic service to their betters. It was through the association of one of these with Julia’s society, that the main proportion of their fares came through the women of the circle. Nonetheless, the dominant pair still travelled the streets with feminine bravado, their enslaved partners of the moment, gratefully receiving the whip on behalf of the daily scorn they received at the hands of the ruder members of their gender.
Clarissa entered the cab to find that Julia and the American woman were indulging in a conversation, discussing the status of feminine emancipation both sides of the Atlantic, their candid references to punishments they’d award certain ruling males, keeping Creed keenly erect as he knelt between the seats and pondered the humiliating spectacle he was being conveyed too. Clarissa smiled with satisfaction on noting the patch his poking bell was already making, in the illuminating white shroud which would single him out to her arriving guests, as a male chosen to please them on her silken rope. She sat and gave him a hot and contemptuous smile which told him her slight delay may have been due to the revelations of the ginger cabbie; his tingling balls were not to be disappointed. She broke into the conversation, addressing Julia.
“You two have not been introduced Julia ... This is Harriet Blanding, her wild ways and stories of how males are captured and summarily shown their place, albeit covertly, have been a tonic for many women here.” Harriet blushed slightly as she too gave Creed a warm smile, anxious to see Julia’s pet receive the humiliating pleasure which would have him yearning to meet Madam Agnes Fairchild in earnest.
“I was just discussing with Julia, how things are still much the same where I am. There are no doubt many backwoods girls, their liberty released by a hard life which by necessity has meant their upbringing had no gender boundary, has them rightly dominate their males ... but for the most part, we have to seek out those weaker males covertly, and there are oh so many of them, and have them know their place.” She smiled cruelly at Julia’s pet, shrouded and willingly going to know the taunts of women as he danced for their sexual pleasure.
“ ... just like Creed here, humiliated, defeated, and worthy of the rope’s full judgement.” Creed boned rigid at the sheer sincerity of the undiluted pleasure in her tone, and at the curious smile that Clarissa gave him, as the cab rattled closer to the place of his novel and exacting shame at their hands.
“Tell us about the delightful russet and freckled beauty who transports us Creed ... I know you’re acquainted with her.” Julia’s eyes illuminated, her breasts heaving, and a spiteful sneer crossing her face as her hands choked him with the leash.
“I do hope you’ve not dared to be untruthful with me Creed ... why, I may yet allow the rope to serve it’s full purpose.” Clarissa laughed, enjoying the dark thought that his destiny lay in the hands of the very girl who was transporting him, on what might be his final journey. The thought was lush indeed, but her duty to Julia was paramount.
“She was merely one of many female servants he’ll have been arrogant and pompous with, so many that most had become faceless and forgotten, along with the chauvinistic ways that have now been whipped from him.” She grinned with the tart irony of his position before continuing, seeing his eyes glaze at the flashback of memory had brought him in her delighted stare.
“That recognition will have put a sweet shame on your lot, hasn’t it Creed?” He cowered with a delicious sense of submission as he obediently related what the pleased eyes of Lizzy had brought back to him.
“She ... she was a maid, a servant of mine...” He now cowered under the scornful eyes of Julia, at even daring to mention that he once lorded it over any female. Though she was patently aware of his background, the confirmation of it from his own lips brought haughty looks of studied contempt from his Mistress and her dominant friends, he now having been shown his true place as a lowly male. Julia kept the leash nice and taut, her cunt now tingling at the prospect of his humiliation before a girl who will have no doubt been made to feel as nothing before him.
“ ... and did you take advantage of your fabricated and false position over her?” Creed thought back and remembered watching her from a window, beating a carpet which hung over a line, her red hair glowing as she flexed her plump physique in applying the carpet beater, the vision giving him a healthy erection as the darker thoughts that would lead him to Julia troubled his mind.
“No Mistress ... no, I ... I would never have used my position ... that way.” Clarissa saw the spark that rose from his memories, and smiled as she looked at Julia’s dark Auburn hair.
“I think you, like many weak men, have an attraction to the natural spite and dominance often displayed so openly by women with red hair ... I’ll guess that it was key in the ease with which you gave yourself up to Julia ... did your sexual desire ever show its submissive side on thoughts of the young lady? She certainly has a wonderful spunk in her attitude.” Creed writhed in the shroud under the knowing grin of Julia, which demanded he indulge himself in a lush humiliation, one which he knew the scheming women would use to their advantage. The humbling feeling of the shroud, and the cruel purpose of its design, had his poking member increase the patch held high by his bell as he looked up to where the whip wielding driver would be seated.
“Yes ... oh yes Mistress Hammond ... I masturbated ... masturbated hard, with thoughts of her having me at her pleasure ... I was truly saddened when the Housekeeper told me of her departure.” The women sneered at the satisfaction of their victory in his confession, their already heady arousal spiced with an extra contempt at the pleasure he showed in humiliating himself. Clarissa watched him continue to stare up to where she sat, amid the sneering laughter of Julia and Harriet, knowing his eyes imagined a view the pert arse in tight leggings through the woodwork.
“Well Creed, the admission of your base actions will as good as hang you when you’re tried ... especially when you confess them before the young lady whose image you debased without her knowledge.” She watched him squirm in the shroud at the sweet thought of having her know that he’d been hers to dominate, and now she’d be instrumental in seeing him suffer a humiliation like no other suffered before. Clarissa made sure the thought was indelible, and his masochistic expectations brought to a sound and indulgent zenith.
“You’ll not have had the chance to sniff at her cunt, but the pleasure she showed in seeing you shrouded and leashed was, strong enough to taste ... she’ll have spoilt the crotch of those tight leggings in just delivering you ... imagine how they’ll be when she hears you confess and is then told she’ll have the honour of leading you to the noose with leash and whip ... I’m sure she’ll allow you a sniff before she sees you dance in penitence for your many weaknesses.” Creed humped at the shroud under the restraint of his Mistress’s leash, amid the cynical laughter of the three women, and his heart raced as the cab came to an abrupt halt. Clarissa opened the door and Creed’s ears were treated to the sound of polite and excited feminine applause as she stood on the cab step, then stepping down and moving to one side, allowed Creed a view of the submissive treat to come.
The cab had halted at the end of a drive, some fifty yards from a grand Georgian house, along the drive, an avenue of suitably pompous and mostly senior society women stood either side, the atmosphere of their eagerness to witness the shaming of a male, patently evident. The polite applause they’d shown Clarissa, erupted into a delirious cacophony of feminine spite, on Creed being tugged down on the leash and made to kneel for their viewing. The sight of a male kneeling in obedience on a leash to a woman, shrouded in white in preparation for the punishment they all craved to witness, was a divinely arousing spectacle for the haughty matriarchs indeed. Many of these women, belittled by arrogant masculinity in the outside world, took on a tart and vigorous alter ego when blessed by the freedom of the covert society, and this was shown with a vindictive and openly sexual passion. That passion was enhanced with spiteful contempt on seeing the shroud held high by a keen erection, demonstrating that this male was keenly aroused by his own humiliation; he knew his place below womanhood, and that was where they would have all men.
Creed cowered in a submissive euphoria, overcome at being the central focus of so many ardently dominant women, their ripe and pompous attitude in expressing their scorn, taking him down to an exhilarating nadir. Those women who stood closest to the cab were the women who’d officiate in his trial; mature and naturally assertive, they bustled in their tightly corseted long dresses to get a good look at their victim, their varied shapes all sporting equally varied breasts which all showed nipples hard in the fabric in excitement, the heat of their arousal lower down, hidden by their flowing dresses. Creed’s own excitement had his heart racing again, on recognising some of those faces from the terminal exhibitions held at Madam Agnes Fairchild’s residence, their smiles of satisfaction in mutual recognition, making him ache to come.
Clarissa then added to their excitement, looking up to Lizzy who sat patiently atop the cab, and beckoned her to come down. They watched with an element of jealousy as Lizzy showed her plump and shapely arse and thighs, held tightly and somewhat provocatively in the leggings, her whip adding to the spice of her gracefully performed descent. Their jealousy at seeing a feminine shape in what amounted to the male liberty of trousers, was tempered by their admiration for her bravado in wearing them, and when Julia handing the grinning girl Creed’s leash and she saucily flicked her whip, their arousal reached a satisfying peak. Clarissa smiled at the pure excitement in Lizzy’s eyes, a virulent urge to dominate rising in her as she held her former master on a leash, as Bella dropped from the cab to join her.
“This young lady is Elizabeth Grimmond, by pure chance, a former domestic slave of the cur you see kneeling in the penitent bliss of his true position. Her testament to his arrogant usury of her will condemn him to the pleasure we all seek to witness. I believe this will earn her, and her friend, both already valiant in the progress of womanly ascent to superiority in their working lives, full membership to the society.” The wizened matriarchs applauded the idea, their appetites for swift and vindictive justice heightened, their assent to having such bold ladies know the internal delights of their society, universally accepted.
Some viewed the younger women with enthusiastic designs of their own, discussing the thoughts of having those tight leggings adorn their plump bodies as they wielded the whip in public; the idea of securing males of their choice by arriving in such openly dominant style, had them wet with enthusiasm for the full acquaintance of the girls.
Lizzy’s alabaster flesh blushed a little at the adoring attention, but the thrill of becoming a full member, and privy to the extremes of dominance practiced in males, hade her confidence rise from it’s already impudent level. Her crotch had been thoroughly juiced at her thought on the journey, and now was now in danger of showing the evidence of her sexual desire at thigh level. Clarissa smiled wickedly at her as she looked down at her former master.
“Well Creed ... I have you now. You were arrogant and short with me when you thought you were in authority ... but look at you now. I’ll see you hanged in full justice, and your humiliation in that manner is guaranteed now. Though this but a sweet game fro which you may escape to know further humiliations, it is oh so real to me ... and you’ll know where my desires and fantasies will take me when I see you struggle on the rope.” Creed now threatened to jet his mess to the shroud as he cowered in abject and wholesome submission under the delighted applause of the women to such a profound speech, his eyes fixed on the delightful peach of her vulva, expressed in its moist glory through her tight leggings. He hoped upon hope that Julia would allow the girl to dominate him to her pleasure, should the women’s dark whims, now already at a tense and sexually dominant level, allow him a return from that place.
Other cabs now arrived, parking fifty yards further back and beyond the obscuring hedge, decanting other penitent males and their excited Mistresses. The males then leashed and prepared in the privacy of the garden, each showing their base and shameful excitement under the solemn and exacting eyes of their female owners. But Creed had pride of place in being first, and those newly arrived eyes watched with some jealousy as a brightly haired and provocatively dressed female began to lead a shrouded male through an avenue of pertly authoritative women, to know their pleasure in a gratifying penultimate humiliation.
The cutting thrill of the experience was oh so real for Creed too, as he was led on a leash by a former servant girl before the haughty eyes of senior women, some of whom he knew would report back to Agnes Fairchild on possible candidates to follow Lumsden’s exquisite path. They would judge him, hear whatever pitiful excuse he might give in a feeble defence, then grant his inner desires following that self humiliation, by duly sentencing him to the rope. Creed watched the mixture of bulbous and shapely rears squirm delightfully in their long skirts, as he followed them, and the delectable rear of Lizzy, on all fours along the grassy path. His humiliation enhanced by his stumbling progress in the shroud, met with contemptuous laughter, as this clumsy movement was in part due to his eagerness to hang.
He followed painfully, up steps and into a large Oak panelled hall, Clarissa directing those spectating women new to the experience, to tiered rows of elevated seating which looked down on a central bench backing onto ominously tall black curtains, facing the space where the accused would kneel. Those familiar with prior exhibitions, quickly took to the seats close where they knew the accused would kneel, eager to watch his descent into submission close up. Clarissa showed Julia and Harriet to the front bench, and they were joined by the matriarchs who’d voice their stern judgement and act as a jury ... a jury which would condemn him to rope, simply for being male. They sat in an arc facing Creed as he knelt on the floor below Lizzy, proudly teasing him with her horsewhip as she tensioned the leash, ensuring his rude erection maintained its boning rigidity. Clarissa stood and took on a suitably pompous air.
“Thank you all for coming to witness the trial of this sordid male ... and the inevitable and wholly justified punishment which will be carried out.” Creed panted uncontrollably at the resonating murmurings of every woman there as they voiced their wholehearted agreement with her words, no more so than Ella Hempleton and Constance Templar, waving an acknowledgement to their close friend Julia, having arrived to take their seats at Clarissa’s residence, fresh from the satisfying disposal of Lumsden. Constance spoke in a vigorous and sexually aroused tone, as she sneered down at the shrouded Creed.
“Oh Ella, I do so wish Julia were not so attached to her pet, wouldn’t you so love to see his pathetic gaze look down from a mask, mounted high on Agnes’s wall of shamed submissives ... he’s so ripe for that humiliating honour.” Ella’s cunt swelled with dominant spite, as her thoughts concurred with her severe friend. Her eyes trained on the shrouded Creed, with a lust to see how he performed on the rope.
“Too true Constance dear, too true ... to think that Lumsden’s face will likely be being hung there at this very moment ... to see Creed’s there too, joining that shamed and pathetic brigade is an exquisite desire indeed, and we’ll need to work on Julia to see it realised. At least we’ll have the pleasure of seeing him tested on the rope today, it may just free her of that attachment.” The two laughed enthusiastically as Clarissa continued.
“First condemnation will come from the penitent’s owner, whose rigorous training has successfully reduced the former misogynist to the level of correction you now witness, he revealing his many crimes to her after coaxing with the whip ... Madam Julia Mountford.” Creed motioned to make a feeble protest at the cutting accusation of his ever being misogynistic; Clarissa smiling curtly of her awareness of this, his simpering worship of femininity so evident.The rousing of the feminine crowd with this untruth, magnifying their spite toward him, and their enjoyment increasing as Lizzy silenced him with a curt stroke of her whip. Julia stood and smiled Wickedly at him as he cowered under the whip of his former maid.
“Creed came to me in typically chauvinistic fashion, accosting me in the street, in public, and voicing his opinion toward women’s suffrage.” She looked up to her friend in the seating.
“Is this not true, Constance?” The severe and dominant woman flaunted her presence as she stood and looked to the eyes of those women now focused upon her, before answering in a haughty and righteous tone.
“That is true, oh so true, his chauvinism was unspeakable.” Creed’s erection boned at the scheming women’s words, carefully chosen to ignite the jury; Julia had approached him, and it was true that he’d voiced his opinion - it favoured women’s emancipation, but Julia’s emphasis would take the jury in the opposite direction - and Constance’s description of his chauvinism being unspeakable was honest indeed, he’d never voiced it. The teasing indignance instilled by the false ridicule awarded him a strange pleasure, knowing the genuine spite it generated toward him from his audience, guaranteed he’d be hanged with full justification. Clarissa warmed toward a flow of indignities which would see her wear the black cap, and Julia had enlightened her as to some of Creed’s fetishes which would humiliate him soundly.
“ ... and did he expose himself to some of his weaknesses, which helped you secure his capture, and ultimate breaking?” Julia now took great pleasure in fabricating an incident which would nonetheless reveal a base fetish he could not deny.
“Oh yes, after he’d propositioned me, and wormed his way into my household by means of masculine bravado, he was seen at my laundry basket, by one of my maids...” She covered her mouth as if to feign disgust, and Clarissa added to the erotically flavoured pantomime.
Louise
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