Julias first fuck
- 3 years ago
- 11
- 0
By Command Of Julia's InvitationChapter 13 free porn video
As Cedric entered the drawing room which faced the landscaped gardens, the day after his bewildering encounters, his further discussion with Thomas and Cuthbert was distracted by his noticing movement in the gardens, on the plateau below the hill, some three hundred yards off, and central to the vista of the Hall.
“What on earth is going on there?” Both Thomas and Cuthbert, each took to their feet, and peered through separate windows, both equally puzzled by what they saw. All three had little or no interest in the maintenance or upkeep of the grounds around the large estate, something which the Baronetess had taken great pride in, and had an estate manager take care of. The ignorance of the three males, to what they saw as the trivial affair of conducting external matters, suited the plans of Beatrice Belvedere well, but the recent bewilderments aroused a little suspicion within Cedric. Cuthbert strained his eyes, and almost guffawed at the figures he saw.
“There’s women out there, watching men work! ... women everywhere around the Hall lately, don’t those ones know their place is indoors, below stairs?” Thomas began to erect, on recognising the broad figure of one of the women who was now making his bathtimes so invigorating, something he was keen to keep from the other two, then diverted his thoughts as to what the males below her were doing.
“They appear to be constructing wooden decking of some sort ... a platform or something...” Cedric tugged at the bell-pull, to summon information from one of the footman, and was further irked when a tightly trousered woman appeared at the door, her femininity resplendent in the normally masculine uniform. Cuthbert nearly choked on the glass of gin he was sipping, letting out a gasp as he studied the broad beauty of her tightly wrapped thighs, Cedric gaping, and Thomas’s erection progressing, on recognising yet another woman who’d covertly shown him the spite of her hand.
Violet Atkins had of course been placed there by Prunella Berkeley, and was more than ready to answer to the expected inquiry regarding the movements outside, and it would be her pleasure to deceive them until they were brought to view the neatly constructed gallows on which they would hang, from the very windows they now peered from. Though put out by not receiving a male, Cedric found himself choosing his words carefully; the half smile on the woman’s face, somehow almost identical to that expressed by the nurse he’d masturbated hard over. Something inside him ceded submission to this new phenomena, as the subliminal influence of the women began to permeate his soul, slowly keying him toward the absolute surrender to femininity he’d shortly suffer. He shuddered a little as he gaped and pointed to the window.
“Tell me ... what, what is going on over there?” Violet gave a serene and controlled smile, as though a schoolmistress calming a small boy who’d become over excited about something.
“I believe it’s a project ordained by the late Baronetess ... a display platform of sorts, which may be erected on special occasions ... then dismantled until required once more.” Her words were as close to the truth as possible at that point, her cunt warming to the excitement, as she though on how the gallows would certainly be erected in honour of the late Baronetess. Cedric looked partly satisfied with the explanation, but still fidgeted.
“Well I do hope that it’s not for the benefit of the public ... the Baronetess had some strange ideas ... she held a fete in the grounds once, and admitted the public ... there were lowly oiks of all manner, all over my property ... never again I say, never.” Violet’s slot moistened wonderfully at the chance of a further teasing of his mind, which his snobbery duly deserved, before he learned the stark reality of its purpose when brought to view the noose that awaited him, in just a few days time.
“Oh, I’m informed that its use will be strictly for that of family members ... and the pleasure of close relatives and their acquaintances.” Her smile now wore an air of smugness, which had Cedric’s cock pulse to a half erection, much to his irritation, and she then took his mind from the external matter, as she turned her head to Cuthbert.
“Oh Mr Framlingham sir, I’m to inform you that a carriage has arrived with ‘guests’ aboard, and is stationed in the rear courtyard.” Cuthbert blushed slightly and coughed, after downing the remainder of his gin, and made smartly for the door; the triviality of the external works, erased from his mind immediately. He turned his flushed face as he stood in its entrance, his excitement palpable.
“Let them in through the covered entrance on the west wing ... we err ... can’t have them exposed to the elements ... then show them up to the Rhodesia Room, where I’ll receive them.” The fact that it was a bright sunny day, made the stepfather’s need to keep as many eyes as possible away from his lurid fetish, all the more obvious, and brought a leering smile from both Cedric and Thomas as he left, Violet then turning to the latter, with a pert smile of her own.
“Your bath will be ready at seven, Sir Thomas ... please see that you’re there on time, lest the water go cold.” And without waiting for a response from the gaping Thomas, she strutted out with some elegance, both males seemingly confounded by her impertinence; Thomas feigning his, and now sporting a full and generous erection. Cedric seethed and turned to him, his bravery returning in her absence.
“That woman is a little to familiar for my liking ... I’ll thank you to rebuke her when she next serves you, have her know just who’s in charge.” Thomas put on as indignant a face as he could, in seemingly concurring with Cedric’s thoughts, but he knew who was in charge in his little world, though he didn’t know that the domination he’d learned to enjoy would soon wholly consume the world’s of Cedric and Cuthbert too, permanently. Thomas eyed the clock furtively; the exciting new experience of being controlled and used by women, developing a keen streak of masochism within him. His cock oozed pre-cum as he decided to attend at a minute after seven, and provoke deserved punishment for his disobedience.
Cedric watched him twitch and look vacantly toward the timepiece, sensing that the regime of masculine order that the house had enjoyed, was being eroded, and felt powerless to prevent it despite his lofty position. He glanced out through the window with some unease, wondering just why there should be at least three women taking such interest in observing such a mundane and normally masculine pursuit in engineering, unable to see them clearly, and not having a spy-glass or opera glasses to hand. He shrugged and turned away, pouring himself a glass of Cuthbert’s gin, only to have the vision of Hope enter his mind once more, stirring his loins.
Out on the lawn, the cool breeze wafted the scent of femininity, and authority, across the noses of the selected submissives from Ward D at Arachne House, chosen to assist the two gallows pets belonging to Agnes Fairchild. The two more than willing pets, who were regularly replaced on their being rewarded with being hanged themselves by their Mistress, when the whim and suitable replacements had been sourced and imbibed with the necessary expertise - a fate they both craved with masochistic lust - poured excitedly over the three-trapped platform as it was raised on temporary blocks by the massed arms of the equally willing and submissive labourers; high enough to test the mechanism, but low enough to evade detection from the Hall.
The women, who were of course supervising and not simply observing, their short but effective whips tucked in their waistbands, and hidden from distant view by the folds of their skirts, but patently obvious to the males, showed equal but spiteful enthusiasm on viewing the contraption. Their haughty pleasure peaked, on the pets signalling a demonstration of its reliability in operation. Their cunts swelled as they imagined the three pairs of feet teetering on those traps, one woman giving a wistful sigh as the traps dropped sweetly in unison, then turning to look back at the house, to admire the vista they’d enjoy as they danced for the pleasure of womanhood. The moment of that divinely erotic punishment could not come soon enough for her.
Cedric downed the gin, and pondered again over the apparent disinterest shown by both Cuthbert and Thomas, given the implication of all three in so many illicit dealings, Thomas’s mind so evidently on other matters as he stared vacantly at the ceiling.
“Damn that Cripps! ... if and when he enters this house again, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” Below stairs, in the labyrinth-like domain of the serving staff of which the three males were totally anonymous to, Cripps was already in residence, along with the good Doctor Barnham. The large carriage had brought more than just the expected three women and their agent, so welcomed by Cuthbert Framlingham; along with them and several other women, was their old associate, Woodge, the simpering male freshly introduced to the pleasures of being dominated, and thoroughly so. The covered entrance had provided more than useful in allowing covert entrance of persons that even Framlingham was not privy to, Hope Randall amongst them.
Violet Atkins smirked with Althea Richmond, as the purple clad matriarch showed her three black girls dressed in lose frocks toward the Rhodesia Room, having been given directions by her, as they watched the awkward progress on all fours, of the fearful and whimpering Woodge, the stripes of his deserved and well applied punishments so evident across his back and buttocks, as he was led naked on a leash in another direction by the proud and majestic Hope. The severe and eternally spiteful redhead, had tolerated no element of complaint from the ex-solicitor, neither verbal nor pained utterance of sound, whipping him with the broad leather braided crop she carried, at every opportunity. His ears caught not the slightest indication of pity toward him, as Hope’s impatience to have him lick her cunt in the presence of his two cronies, had her whip some enthusiasm into his pace as they traversed the dank corridors to the spiteful laughter of the goading female staff; a buxom and pompous member of their number, leading her to the room where Cripps and Barnham were secured.
The introduction to pain and punishment, of which he’d been no stranger in inflicting on women during those nights of drunken debauchery, so duly and thoroughly served upon his flesh by the three black women, had given him a taste of what he could expect perpetually from now on. Their pleasure in awarding it, had already reduced him to beginning to develop a taste for it, reinforced by his sense of hopelessness toward his predicament. He therefore found himself erect and finding perverse enjoyment at his own humiliation, as the women’s cynical laughter saw him to the door Hope sought.
That erection pulsed to a wondrous rigidity, when the pompous woman opened it and revealed the status of the two, that he knew he’d also soon be adopting. Hope sneered with satisfaction at seeing one of her favoured methods of reducing the spirit of unruly males at Arachne House, installed and put to good use here, in the very house of three males who were to know a punishment which would be somewhat more permanent. She sighed with sadistic pleasure as Woodge knelt at her feet, transfixed by what he saw.
“Look at them Woodge ... just look at them ... see what you’re also to enjoy.” Cripps and Barnham were spread-eagled across low X frames, a third, vacant bench, being eagerly prepared by two grinning women and the pompous madam who’d led them in, Hope unbuttoning her skirt and letting it drop to reveal her need for undergarments had not been necessary that day. With the scent from her aroused cunt teasing his nostrils, he could see from his kneeling position, that the benches had been designed to allow their genitalia to hang free from between their spread and shackled legs, their scrotums ringed; a weight hanging to keep their balls tautly exposed and readily available to the attentions of a whip. One of the grinning maids gave the weight of that of the occupant of the central bench, just a gentle nudge, to ensure Woodge could appreciate the benefit of it; the leather hooded occupant grunted in misery, as the weight twisted the neck of his scrotum delightfully, demonstrating the gravity of its presence.
Hope pulled a nearby chair up, and sat gracefully on it, spreading her glorious thighs just a little as she stroked the trembling Woodge’s hair, working herself up to the service of his tongue at her nicely seasoned cunt.
“See how the tokens of their masculinity, the tokens of arrogance and chauvinism, which were used against women, and which have brought you all here, are bared for ridicule and punishment ... keeping the memory of just why, keenly fresh, while being broken to the true order of feminine rule.” She gently eased his head to a lower angle, and pointed an elegant finger to the small brown ceramic bowls which sat upon the floor beneath their tortured genitalia; the colour obviously chosen so as to make what was given up to be contained by it, all the more evident. Woodge’s erection pulsed at noting the plentiful evidence of drying creamy blobs and flaky white patches adorning each well used bowl.
“ ... those tokens are kept well exercised, to further remind of the reason for being here, a daily milking, a much appreciated aperitif to the punishment to follow ... oh yes Woodge, you’ll find a whipping so much more invigorating, having spent your seed in utter submission with the knowledge of what’s to come.” He bucked on his knees and thrust his standing cock at the air, on her pulling his head back to have him see one of the maids give him a curt and satisfied smile; her hand showing him a clean and shiny brown bowl, which she then placed below the vacant bench with further satisfaction. The buxom woman then had him continue his involuntary thrusting, her pleasure in snapping a leather hood back and forth in her hands, so spitefully evident. Hope sneered as she parted her thighs and pulled his face a little closer, having his jerking erection bone to full rigidity, as he was treated to a full view of her ginger tufted cunt, and the whiff that announced her pleasure in tormenting him.
“You’ll wear that hood, and with it, your identity will be erased ... you’ll no longer be Woodge, your crimes against women has earned you the humiliation of forfeiting any given name or title ... it’ll be erased by the whip, along with any vestiges of spirit, as you’re taught your place as a slave to womanhood ... you will become simply ‘Male Number Three’ for ease of singling out ... just another faceless and worthless male, to service the whim of any woman choosing to use you.” As his anus tingled with foreboding at the thought of what he was to be reduced to, she teased his nose closer to the warm moistness of her cunt, and allowed him a good sniff of her spice, before turning his head again, to have him view the bulbous woman lay down the hood upon the bench, ready for his fitting, then lift a robust looking leather bag, which would adorn his mouth below the tightness of his hood and rendering him silent ... other than for the pained grunts and whimpers he’d offer through it. Hope’s wicked smile as she continued her pleasured and sadistic dialogue, had Woodge’s cock dribble the pre-cum which pre-empted the earnest emission which would soon grace the shiny bowl.
“Though your silence by command of womanhood would be strictly adhered to anyhow, the gag will confirm it lustily ... and you can think yourself privileged to wear it with immediate effect, unlike these other two curs who were made to confess their dealings ... and conveniently yours ... in the gross implications of your crimes as accessories to the three you’ll witness hang.” She gave a soft and cynical laughter as he quivered in submission, his erect cock showing that he was becoming more than ready to succumb to the erotic fate that he knew he deserved, and his inner soul began to relish; her matriarchal confidence alone, holding him in obedience to her overwhelming dominance.
“ ... you’ll be allowed just the one brief return to having an identity, when taken to give your falsified account of the demise of the three ... and you and your two feeble associates will offer that testament freely, as any other account will result in information regarding the demise of Baronetess Belvedere, and the multitude of other heinous crimes against women, and frauds, being made available ... leading to the distinct possibility of your invitation to the noose at Newgate.” Hope enjoyed watching him tremble, as one of the maids flicked a whip which she’d taken from a rack on the wall, the two wretches murmuring through their gags and flexing in their shackles at the sound, their hooded anonymity, brought home to Woodge, as their snorting through the leather had it puff in and out, their chins resting on padded blocks to allow their stark eyes a view through the small eyelets, and witness the promise of punishments to be suffered.
Vera
- 25.02.2021
- 17
- 0
