Cleo Benedict DominatrixChapter 4
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Cleo Benedict; DominatrixChapter 6 free porn video
Those voyeuristic patrons of the Baroque who’d not seen prior notifications the club was to be closed for a private function that evening, were turned away in disappointment, and left to seek other venues at which to rouse their erections on attending. The smug smiles of the girls in the ticket foyer, in taking great pleasure in informing them of the denial of entry, teasing that need for erotic relief even further. The plethora of women, wearing equally smug smiles as they waltzed their various but equally elegant shapes through to the theatre area, had some of the more ardent patrons linger through curiosity, and the subtle thrill of banishment at the expense of what was obviously an entirely feminine audience.
One of those males who lingered, was a regular and perverted patron, who following shows would habitually inhabit a dark recess in a building diagonally opposite the stage entrance at the theatre’s side entrance. There he’d lurk and play with his cock on the off chance of seeing the female stars depart, and his lewd inquisitiveness at being rebuked on this occasion, had him favour that station in the hope of seeing arrivals. Like the other males turned away, his initial reaction was to repair to some other seedy joint, but the array of supreme looking women arriving held his attention ... One particularly dominant woman, middle-aged and so shapely in her tight outfit, gave him a contemptuous sneer through her horn rimmed glasses; the cat like glare from her flared spectacles striking a chord with him, bringing his cock high in his loose flannel pants, and having him sneak to the side entrance after watching her strut, headmistress like, into the theatre.
The submissive voyeur was not to be disappointed, taking advantage of his specially acquired pants with their elasticated waistline, to strop his cock vigorously, as first, a woman who he recognised as the Whip Mistress strutted confidently down the dank alley, her broad hips expressed exquisitely by a tight pencil skirt and tall heels, bringing his cock up hard. Her unnecessary delay at the door, caused by an inattentive doorman, allowing the voyeur some superb strokes and the briefest of fantasies, as she stood, irked, with hands on hips, displaying her dominance so naturally. The incident gave him the need to undo his fly, and grip his member, now stropping in full and glorious masturbation as the the full figure of the Chariot Woman graced his vision. Seeing her formidable curves cloaked in a tight and formal dress and jacket, somehow enhanced the appeal of her sexuality for him, as he came close to shooting his load before she disappeared through the door.
But it was to be the next, anonymous but deeply satisfying arrival which had him shoot his mess to the alcove brickwork, before making his furtive and shamed departure, a sexual treat which would have him repeat the pleasure at home, with its haunting memory.
The glint of sun on Chrome heralded the arrival of a Nash Ambassador, as it edged into the confines of the narrow alley, the smiles of its feminine occupants radiating through the glass. Inside, kneeling and leashed within the rear footwell between Eve and Lana, Faulkner quivered and erected hard at the sight of the theatre he knew so well, and would now know from another perspective ... in total humiliation, and brought to it in a car he’d once owned and posed arrogantly within. It was now the property of Madam Lana Dupree, as was he.
Though full of trepidation, the prospect of being exhibited and punished upon the Baroque’s stage before women, had him boning with masochistic excitement at the justly deserved treatment he’d brought upon himself. Lana sneered at his obvious arousal, which would prompt the thorough examination of his flesh, with the implements wielded by the enthusiastically sadistic feminine performers, her eyes then going to the blank wall which cut the alley short, some fifty yards from the side entrance, thinking how cruelly apt it was.
“Oh look Faulkner, it’s a dead end ... how symbolic of your former life ... the entire world will see that’s been eradicated totally, tonight. Faulkner’s anus gripped at the intrusive plug, his cock pulsing rigid at the smug and forthright tone of her voice, the tension on the leash from Eva, telling him he was about to know that humiliating destiny as the car was brought to a halt by Marcia, with a satisfied smile.
The tall heels and seemingly endlessly long legs of the formidable black woman emerged from the vehicle which had once been his, and a tug on the leash had the naked white male follow, to cower below her curvaceous figure, the flesh of his ass high as he crouched in submission at her feet, the stripes of her strict ownership, shaming evidence of his utter defeat. The mature Mistress of the household stepped out, and as the third reversed the vehicle out to park it elsewhere, the black woman showed the crawling male the cane she held in her other hand, as he was whipped with indifference to the stage door.
When Marcia returned from parking the car, she saw a male slip furtively from the side entrance, looking flushed, his eyes fixed somehow, but thought nothing of it. As she strutted to, and on through the stage door, she was the only person in the alley; but across the way in an alcove, the evidence of the pleasured witnessing of Faulkner’s downfall provided the only movement other than hers, as the worthy ejaculation of seed spent in covert satisfaction, trickled its creamy passage down the rough mortar between the brickwork.
Faulkner may have been spared the humiliation of being outed in public, on being granted the cover of access via the side entrance, but he was not to escape the thorough shaming before his large but select feminine audience. Whipped smartly on by Eve’s cane, he was delivered up a side passage, to the full glory of an entrance at the head of the theatre beyond the foyer. Faulkner’s breath was as much taken away by the atmosphere, as it was by Eve’s swingeing strokes of the cane, as Lana opened the door to the spacious and packed auditorium, his exposure illuminated by the lighting at maximum, and the raucous and contemptuous applause of womanhood at the sight of male put so rightly in his place, and on a leash to a black maid, elevated to enjoy the place so rightly hers.
Amidst the cackling and spiteful applause, he took in the familiarity of the club’s interior, the entire accommodation of tables and seating that he’d often frequented at liberty, now occupied by unfamiliar feminine clientele, whose undivided and pleased attention was now upon him as a captive. That spite and contempt was reinforced most resoundingly, on their noting the rudely stiff erection which provided the undeniable evidence of the pleasure he felt in being in that position; the once arrogant male who’d treated so many of the women there like second class citizens, now taught to understand his inferiority to them all, the humiliating stripes so blatantly expressed across the flesh of his plugged buttocks, acknowledged with delighted ridicule as proof of his knowing defeat.
Eve’s cane had him progress a little whilst Lana looked on with dominant pride, pulling him on the leash, this way and that, ensuring he acknowledged his entire audience at this elevated point, and having him teased by the panorama of the stage below. Faulkner’s eyes took in the improvised ramp which led down from the stage, and noted that the positioning of the tables would grant the feminine audience an intimate and satisfying taste of his humiliation, as it would allow circuits of his laboured progression when harnessed to the chariot. That submissively stimulating thought had him erect enough, but what took pride of place in a central and forward position upon the stage, had his cock pulsing rigid, and his anus tingling wildly with trepidation.
Both Lana and Eve thoroughly enjoyed his bewildered gape toward the stage, as the masterly black woman pulled him back on his knees to have him examine it thoroughly, Marcia taking a photograph for posterity while the spiteful applause from the audience continued to mock his rigid cock, standing high in shame. Marcia grinned as the flashbulb popped, in registering its illumination of him.
“There, that’s a shot before the show ... we’ll see how you look when it’s done.” Faulkner’s eyes were scrutinised with sadistic relish by his audience, on their being fixated in a fearful focus upon the low, T shaped frame which beckoned his restraint. He could see the polished and sturdy apparatus was designed to accommodate its occupier in a kneeling position, facing the audience so as they may fully enjoy the expressions of the victim, this sadistic scenario guaranteed by a leather collar which lay upon a padded chin support at the centre of the cross beam. Lana sneered with dominant satisfaction, his obvious trepidation arousing her sweetly as his fearful eyes continued to study the cruel apparatus in those few initial moments.
“See what awaits you after your use with the chariot, my sweet ... you’ll satisfy every woman here in confirming your submission to the whip”. Faulkner’s boning cock quivered and pulsed at her words, and the cynically scathing laughter of women within earshot, the surreal and erotically intense notion of being humiliated and shown for what he was at the club he patronised, brought to a spiteful and teasing reality by her ... and his eyes confirmed that the pleasure of his humiliation would be brought forth in justly sadistic fashion.
At each end of the cross beam were straps which would hold the victim in a crucifix like position, and even at this distance, his anus tingled in masochistic awe at seeing a tiny shaft of light penetrate an orifice in the smoothly rounded upright, and to the fore of the beam at its base, a glass platter awaited an offering he knew he’d not fail to provide. The bored hole, padded and greased, would accept his captive cock, the padding would guarantee his stimulation, aided by the whip, the grease would ensure he didn’t come too soon ... not until some satisfaction with the lash had been painfully exacted from him.
As though that impending humiliation were not enough, he baulked on the leash and gasped, as Cleo emerged from the expectant throng of femininity, clutching the file he’d hoped would remain anonymous to his Mistress, and his heart skipped a beat on seeing three women emerge with her, whom he’d never dreamed he’d see enjoy his humiliation there. The smug and spiteful smiles of the three women gave his erection an acute rigidity, and for good reason, as Cleo revealed what he’d been hiding.
“It seems your pet’s penchant for business, extends beyond just the usual chicanery we’re all aware of ... he likes to blackmail too... “. Faulkner’s boning erection didn’t wain, but pulsed visibly as one of the three women stepped forward with sheer spite in her eyes, and slapped his face hard. An enthusiastic applause greeted the full bodied, middle-aged woman’s satisfying release, which she repeated, enjoying watching his face redden, the other two looking on in disbelief at his position now, but deeply satisfied with it. The observing crowd of women could sense the acute air of victory expressed by the three, who were anonymous to any of those present who’d had business dealings with Faulkner, the ripeness of their pleasure in seeing him bound in humiliation, obviously something very special indeed. The curvaceous woman sneered down as he cowered on the leash, his sense of defeat now amplified beyond anything he’d yet felt ... his anus tingling at being caught out for something he’d hoped to hide, but his masochistic side, strangely thrilled by the inevitable consequences.
“Not so arrogant or demanding now, are we?” She stood over him, hand on hip, laughing as the two others stood close and showed their delight in scrutinising his pathetic position now, as Cleo handed the file to Lana, who came quickly to her conclusions with a sneer.
“Well ... it seems an explanation, a full confession, and a suitably severe punishment is required ... one that goes beyond the mere whipping you’ll know tonight...” She flicked through the dossier and was pleased to find the woman who now stood over him, depicted posing with a whip over a portly gentleman, having her smirk with satisfaction.
“ ... and I’m sure these ladies will be keen to oversee just and deserved punishment served upon you ... this does shed a new light on your tenure under my control”. The woman who stood over him, thoroughly enjoyed her dominant life in secret, and was aroused at having any male at her feet, but this was a thrill beyond any session with her whip she’d experienced yet.
He’d been an arrogant thorn in her side, extorting money from her, the male in the picture owed him money, along with another who she’d foolishly allowed take pictures of her victory pose, and those stooges would be made to pay dearly also. Faulkner had always seemed so naturally assertive at those meets where he’d taunted her with social ruin over the photos; she never dreamed she’d see him, leashed, submissive, the defeated property of a woman. For his part, Faulkner’s cock maintained its rock hard rigidity at the prospect he now faced. Though he’d menaced her whilst hiding behind a veil of authority on confronting her, he’d masturbated hard at the pictures in private, and lusted for a scenario which didn’t come close to what he’d now endure as he shot his seed ... and Lana now commanded the damning dossier as well as him.
The feeling of masochistic doom consumed him, as its content would earn him severe punishment, and a lushly erotic surprise for some of the males within it, but his immediate humiliation beckoned, and the watching women were not to be disappointed. The massed arousal of femininity was guaranteed, as the crack of a whip partially diverted the throng’s attention to the stage, where the Chariot Mistress emerged, two masked and shapely nymphs, walking out her wheeled instrument of humiliation, before disappearing with their smiles aside the stage. The women applauded lustily on Eve seeing her charge to the ramp with her cane, Faulkner’s laboured progress on the leash, thoroughly enjoyed by all as he stumbled on all fours to his shaming, under her vigorous application of the flexible rod.
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