Cavendish's Enlightenment

Cavendish rubbed at his erection through his pants as he led Beatrice through to the hidden parlour beyond the covert door, eyeing the oaken stairs which led up to the comfortable room that he'd entertained her in last week. It had been she who'd recommended the venue, following his acquaintance of her through a fetishist club he'd been introduced to, and he was more than satisfied with the arrangement, his cock in a state of erection all week in sordid anticipation.

She knelt below him, naked and on a silver chain, her hands clasped delicately together, meek and apparently willing to be of service to his perverted needs; she had known the whip of the cane the week before, and the thought of another taste of it brought her cunt to a warm arousal as they awaited the house madam, though she knew of something he didn't, which brought her nipples to a hardness in erotic anticipation.

Cavendish had not penetrated her soft body after he'd whipped her with the cane and watched her orgasm as she squirmed on an inserted phallus in bondage, he'd stood over her and masturbated, sending his hot seed across her milky flesh, then knelt to lick it from where it ran into the creases of her flesh held tight by the cords. He had had little idea why he'd been so gratified by this base action, he'd been driven to it by some deep seated erotic bent, but the memory of it brought his cock to rigidity as he too anticipated a repeat of the thrill it had given him.

The bold madam gave the meekly kneeling Beatrice a knowing smile as she addressed the would be dominant Cavendish as his heart raced. She was curt with him, in defiance of his supposed masculine superiority; no male would better her, and she had watched his last performance covertly through a spy hole, recognising the signs which would be more in keeping with her status amongst men. Cavendish immediately felt a little sheepish as she looked him up and down, then spoke to him with a distinct air of feminine contempt, her eyes glancing down to the bulge which gave notice of his animal intentions.

"So, sir is ready to indulge his carnal desires once more, his little package looks up to it." He tried hard to dispel her remark as one of pure humour, but felt the truthful cut of it; the feeling of slight humiliation stimulating him somehow. She put him in mind of a family governess who had taken control of him, despite his being beyond the age necessary for the discipline that he believed she had been installed to apply on his family members. Her authority was recognised above all by his parents, and though already of an adult age, she had taken great pleasure in disciplining him too, with the blessing of his vacant father and strict stepmother.

Disciplined by her on his showing the slightest misdemeanour, with their full permission and often before the eyes of his cruel and matriarchal stepmother, the experience had been key in his developing a lust for revenge upon the female form - or so he had led himself to believe.

The memory of the canings and the humiliation remained annoyingly fresh in his mind but excited him when serving the same upon Beatrice's tender flesh, though he couldn't hide from the memories he tried to blur, of his fulfilling masturbation after being punished by the governess. He was a male, and male's are there to rule, his conscious mind told him, and he fought to subdue those subconscious thoughts of masochism and humiliation which haunted him, and gave him a perverse desire.

Little did he know, the governess he'd known would also haunt him once more. He pulled on Beatrice's chain, tilting her head back, and making her firm breasts point to the stairway.

"I am indeed ready to be amused by my pet again, she knows where a woman's place is." The madam grinned at his practiced pompous stance, seeing through to a weakness behind its thin veneer. He was no cocksure male with true masculine dominance, but she played to his tune; his feigned arrogance would add to the spice of his downfall, already set in place by the seemingly soft female whose arousal grew as the chain tensed about her neck, and his enjoyment of that downfall would be intense and mutually satisfying.

Beatrice Palmer enjoyed the whip, but was equally thrilled in applying it; she was a boon to the circle of women she worked with, her soft and feminine exterior luring males fresh to the bsdm scene into an initially mutual erotic enjoyment, then on into depths of pleasure more suited to please those women of her kinship. The males then found themselves willingly controlled by feminine authority through their own lust. They were then held to strict obedience, enslaved by their own sexual weakness and totally consumed with the pleasure of serving stern femininity. Beatrice was instrumental in perpetuating the cycle, and was expert in selecting males appropriate for moulding to the required design; Cavendish was ripe for selection.

Cavendish was new to active involvement in the bdsm scene, he'd long harboured a burning desire to air his fetish, but had never had the courage to venture into those dark areas of the community where debauchery was openly advertised. Then when consorting with a colleague from the lower echelons of the business he worked at, during a drunken evening in which the alcohol had allowed him to border on the edges of that desire during a lurid conversation on sex, he had found himself attending a venue he'd never have dreamed of visiting when sober.

His eyes and cock were treated to scenes of sordid open engagements which even the application of more cheap ale could not prevent his sobering up somewhat at the sexual intensity of what he witnessed. Women with acres of exposed flesh openly cavorted with eager red faced males in an effort to sell their services, and in one corner which caught his eye, more sedate parties sat. The females there had a certain elegance about them, and he noted the males in attendance had a more brash approach; their bravado expressed by the way they brandished their canes and riding crops.

Cavendish broke into a cold sweat as his eyes met with a soft and pert woman there, her eyes looking back like a lost puppy's as one of those gentleman lifted her chin with a crop. The alcohol did not deter his erection; her soft flesh and blonde hair gracing her feminine shape as their eyes broke while she curtsied meekly to the portly male, then glancing back at his with a warm smile unseen by her bumbling client. Cavendish left under cover of darkness, his colleague unaware of the direction of his companion's lust, the cold sweat still prevailing over his irregular drunken stride. He had broken the taboo though, he'd be back in a more sober state; those eyes had left a permanent impression and sealed his fate.

Cavendish was not disappointed on his return the very day after, and though he displayed his cockiest and most chauvinistic side outwardly when confronting the meekly submissive Beatrice, she knew she'd see his balls ringed in ownership under female guidance forthwith. He twirled his ornate cane in a way which feigned menace as he made his move after a couple of gins to bolster his confidence, she having seen him and passing over a rowdier possibility by suggesting she was taken.

Her cunt tingled as he strode over, unable to completely control his nervousness as he fumbled with the chair, she was in the mood to be whipped by one she'd see dominated most thoroughly at a date shortly after. The orgasms she enjoyed were so intense on seeing the divine retribution being served, retribution taken so readily by the male on succumbing to the sweet realisation of enjoying his true place below the superior sex, the sexual thrill of the humiliation of defeat, yielding an eroticism enjoyed by both parties.

Her delight at seeing this one justly punished and made to enjoy his deepest desires would be exquisite, her before and after orgasms would be pure ecstasy. She had soon had her feelings regarding his need to be led confirmed; he'd hastily expressed his desire to cane her, but she had not the slightest problem in leading him to the madam's house as her choice, after he had suggested an hotel room.

He was easily twisted about her fingers without the slightest indignance on his part regarding her direction in deciding the venue, a choice indicated as merely her whim, rather than a place which guaranteed her security or any other pertinent reason. She would be bound and whipped but was always in control, not just of the present situation, but of his destiny.

The madam had watched with a sharply vindictive sexual lust as she viewed the display through the peep hole, an uncommon feeling in one so well acquainted with sexual acts; seeing a male brought down and made to realise the truth of his submission was superbly arousing, and Beatrice's ecstatic moaning as she indulged in an intense orgasm with the pleasure of being caned and knowing the same, had her nursing her budding clitoris. She had looked on with satisfyingly sweet contempt when he failed to mount her, and seen the twisted torment in his face as he masturbated.

He had shot his mess liberally across her writhing body, and her contempt reached a high as she saw him lick his mess from the cords which bound the delighted Beatrice. She knew he craved something he'd not admit to himself, something she'd help ensure he realised, and would be deeply gratified sexually in helping him to that hidden desire. She and Beatrice were immediately in contact with the women who would aid in delivering him from that torment, one of whom would take exceptional pleasure in doing so.

Cavendish's cock oozed pre-cum as it stood hard upright in his pants, the belittling scorn of the house madam causing a curious excitement but he refused to recognise why. He dispelled the thought and would take solace in showing Beatrice extra vigour with the cane. The pleasured sigh emitted by the chained woman whom he'd arrogantly described as 'his pet' as he tugged her forward impatiently on the chain, exciting him further, but it could not match the intensity that she felt, her cunt wet, and ready to know the service denied her last week.

Cavendish made for the stairway, but his stride was halted with imperious precision by the madam. She pointed then strutted to a covert door beneath the stairs and opened it with a smile.

"We've prepared a room below stairs for you this time sir. You'll enjoy the special facility that it holds, most intensely. 'Your pet' knows her way down the slope well, and you'll find the descent most accommodating, but I'll follow to see you there in comfort." Cavendish was thrown by her persistent attention, but was immediately prompted forward by Beatrice tugging him by the chain; her eagerness to come under circumstances which would see not just a change in the room would not be denied.

Cavendish followed, trying to strut confidently, the strange choice of the madam's words puzzling him. He watched Beatrice's deliciously soft cheeks and thighs jostle as she entered the door on all fours, almost gasping on the tight chain like a frisky dog keen to be walked. Her sweetly puckered anus and glistening cunt teased his cock as they disappeared into the dimly lit passage and descended the slope. Cavendish's balls tingled with a strangely fearful feeling as he heard the madam close the door after entering, slamming a bolt home to secure it. He turned to face her and was greeted with a smile of smug satisfaction.

"We don't want any impromptu visitors wandering in uninvited, this is for our pleasure alone... and a pleasure it'll be." Her cunt tingled with a teasing pleasure as Cavendish showed a little fear and a moment's hesitancy, then Beatrice turned on her chain and faced him with a pouting and servile look, her firm breasts displaying nipples which jutted rock hard from her soft browny pink areola.

"I so need to see that cane again sir... I need what's due to me more than ever." She turned and showed him the soft globes of her rounded cheeks, the inviting vista quelling any reluctance as she led him on down the slope. The madam's contemptuous smile at his back unseen as her rarely inspired sexual arousal served to moisten her mature cunt further.

Their descent took them to a large oaken door, the flickering light illuminating a leather crop fixed above it, atop a sign which simply read 'Servitude'. The madam stepped past them and swung it open with a tart smile, and before Cavendish could make out the features of its interior, Beatrice led him in and he felt himself eased forward by the firm yet delicate hands of the madam. The door closed behind her and she rammed the bolt home with gusto before holding his arms and laughing softly.

Cavendish's cock maintained its rigidity, pulsing at the feminine essences he was treated to within the room, his confused senses taking in three naked women sat cross-legged before him, each masked with black veils which covered all but their eyes and each with a cane by their sides. A large and muscular woman of Amazonian proportions stepped close to him as the madam held his arms, while Beatrice rose to her feet. Her face now wearing a spiteful sneer, she discarded her chain and slapped his face hard.

He gasped and stood in shock as she stepped over to where a naked but hooded male cowered at the foot of a bed in the corner. The gentle laughter from the three women took his eyes back to them as his face reddened from the slap. the centrally seated woman was obviously middle aged, her gently sagging full breasts and softly creased thighs taking nothing away from her elegant posture. The madam squeezed his arms as he began to panic, but the raw fear was tempered by his being overcome by a lushly erotic feeling.

"Oh yes... it's not just males whose desires are catered for here... though your desires will be awakened before you leave this room". The masked middle aged woman inflated her chest and showed him the excitement in her nipples which pointed like thumbs, his eyes transfixed by the fleshy spread of her hips and broad thighs upon the seat.

"So! You like to cane girls do you? I think we all know what you really lust for... and that'll be in keeping with the correct position of all males... a position I know you yearn for." Something about the authority in her voice brought a distant fear into his mind, not just that engendered by his immediate predicament, but he was not allowed to ponder the reason, the Amazon stepped forward and gripped his arm, placing her other hand over his mouth. Feeling his futile struggle excited her, she was expert at detecting the level of restraint required, and this one succumbed with little physical protest; he was already resigned to the power of feminine superiority and would soon crave punishment.

Cavendish focused on the eyes of the middle-aged woman which revealed a pleased smile below the veil of her mask as she enjoyed seeing him struggle helplessly with the madam and her assistant. The delicate but firm hand of the Amazon contained a wad which the startled Cavendish panted through, its narcotic quality making him slump to his knees almost immediately. He dropped the cane he'd been clutching, the feeling of defeat overcoming him with the drug, though his cock bolted rigid as he lapsed into unconsciousness under the delighted but contemptuous gaze of the now nicely aroused women.

The mature woman in the centre gave a satisfied glance to her two younger guests either side; she would demonstrate a level of male correction to them which she would soon be able to repeat beyond those walls, a thought which gave her profound contentment.

Miss Madeline Harnett enjoyed her regular daytime occupation to the full, it was in fact vocational in the true sense, awarding her much wholesome pleasure. She had started out as a nanny 35 years ago, and found that disciplining males gave her a certain pleasure and came oh so naturally. She had found herself offering stern opinions to their fathers too, her forceful nature bringing agreement from them, regardless of their status, and found that the imposition she bestowed on them gave her a satisfying sexual thrill.

Word soon spread around both brow beaten and more formidable mothers alike, of her corrective services with males having reached the age of adulthood, needing discipline to guide them into becoming good husbands with a healthy respect for women. Guidance was required, but Miss Madeline Harnett would ensure that nothing but obedience to women was observed and strictly adhered to by those males consigned to her.

Nothing would fulfill her more than humiliating an adult male by spanking him to tears across her broad thighs whilst the female household staff watched on and enjoyed the just discipline served with vigour, and knowing that once corrected those males would cede to the taste of feminine discipline and return for more. Her thighs were blessed with the warmth of many an erection, which told her that correction was instilled in those males with lasting effect. She now had her own agency which recruited suitably like-minded women; many of whom, such as the two who flanked her now, were privy to the erotic furthering of that discipline after normal academic hours.

Some twenty years earlier, Madeline had been consulted by a certain stepmother, with a husband who did just as he was told. Her adult son had required guidance which was duly granted, giving her much satisfaction in her work. The correction had been cut short though, when the wayward male departed the home without warning. He now lay slumped on the floor before her, in need of extra and richly deserved correction. She had need of a male to serve her and her enthusiastic adult students for demonstration purposes, both curricular and non-curricular. He was perfect, and would be consigned to a life of perpetual correction and humiliation which he in turn would be eternally grateful for.

Cavendish awoke with a start to find himself naked and his body racked with new sensations, and the women made sure his new exposure was fully appreciated. Beatrice stood over him as the madam jerked him up to his knees on the chain on which he had led the soft girl in chauvinistic fashion. As per his introduction, the young woman's face had lost its timid and meek expression, and bore a sneer of sheer spite. As his head was lifted, she pulled his face into the soft crevice of her vulva to allow him a good sniff of her cunt, then jerked it back and raised her open hand with a sneer.

The women had a good laugh at his expense as he jerked his arms to fend off the impending slap, only to find his wrists were bound. Beatrice savoured the moment, then with a cruel smile, slapped his face hard, the action betraying his inner lust by having his cock erect in a shameful display of submissive pleasure. The sting, and the pert sexual sensation it awarded him, also made his already tingling anus attempt to clench; it was then that the soreness down there registered as the anaesthetic began to wear off completely.

His anus felt as though he were half way through a shit, spread wide and giving him the urge to defecate. Madeline watched him wriggle his torso in discomfort and twist his neck on the chain to see what would of course be beyond his sight. She delighted in his token misery, and the signs that he was warming to his new status, with pleasing awkwardness.

"Yes my boy... you've been anally plugged. Your anus accepted it so willingly while you dreamed of what was to come. It's an exquisite sensation isn't it? Your hole stretched wide to enhance your state of fear... and you've good reason to be scared." Cavendish cowered and tried to lower his head in shame as his cock told the women the true feelings on his position, and he could not hide the pleasure of the lushly fearful sensation of the penetrating plug. His cock rose rudely, and it's expansion alerted him to another pinching sensation about his balls.