Flames of Necessity Pt. 01

Thelma had known Horace, albeit vaguely, in his more youthful days, and as a younger man before his union with Prudence, again sporadically; his social upbringing keeping him safely sheltered from the rough and streetwise inhabitants of the nearby town, for the most part anyhow. She remembered an occasion, when in his teens, he had wandered, daringly for him, into woodland bordering the estate's boundary where she and some older girls were reminiscing about their sexual exploits with local young men, the woodland still serving as a private haven and the place to meet for these girls in their late teens. Horace had stumbled upon them, some of the girls whispering to each other that they recognised him as the young man from the snooty manor, and they beckoned to him by lifting their skirts to lure him closer.

Overcome by curiosity of feigned feminine attraction to him, he spending most of his life at boys only boarding schools and more recently in all male further education at a private institution, he was drawn in like a magnet, aided by what little courage he possessed. He soon discovered to his cost, that these females were not of the same nature as the few gentile females he'd met socially, nor uniformly respectful like maids in his parents employ. Thelma had watched as some of the girls, more bold than she at the time, stealthily encircle him, and first ridicule his pompous accent. On seeing his mistake, he made to leave, but was swiftly restrained by the giggling and spiteful young women. Thelma remembered how it aroused her sexually to see a male bullied so easily by girls, he had indeed been instrumental in setting her path to the dominance she now enjoyed over males.

The ripeness of her arousal, along with the other girls, had blossomed further on seeing his distress as he was easily subdued, their bawdy wickedness magnified on removing his trousers and pants, and their bitchiness taken to an enjoyable extreme as he was made to kneel and beg for their return. Thelma's memory remained fresh and invigorated at the recollection of the plump girl who'd pulled up her skirts and sat on a log, Horace then hauled by the girls over her lap, and held down whilst his bare arse was given a sound spanking. The woodland was filled with their spiteful laughter and Horace's grief, the stern girl's hand bringing him swiftly and pleasingly to tears. He was released, satisfyingly humiliated, and his trousers and pants thrown into the thorn bushes for his delicate retrieval; he could not hide his shame, nor could he hide the poking erection of his cock at the chastisement; he too was set on a path which would see him become the plaything of womanhood forever.

Her later encounters with him were shielded with a pompous indignity on his part, her serene smile gnawing at him, as her face had him recall the woodland humiliation, which had remained unknown to all apart from those had attended, bar one... which she would discover with some delight later.

It therefore came as no surprise that Horace will have been reduced with satisfaction by Prudence, but the plump and formidable woman gave a gasp of delight at that level of reduction, on seeing Horace enter the room. Led on all fours on a leash, naked but for the effeminate pink negligee, the tight black hood displaying the bulge of a silencing gag, her pleasure at seeing a male who'd illustrated class based superiority in his pomposity with her, put so firmly and humiliatingly in his place, was so soundly arousing to her dominant ego. She sighed with further, pleasure, her cunt tingling warmly, as he was first displayed to his owner; cowering at Prudence's feet in absolute submission, Thelma noting the steel cup that held his defeated masculinity captive, and the anal plug which was emphasised by recently received discipline.

Anthea passed the leash to Prudence, who tugged it to have him look up to his owner, she sneering at the now whitening smears on the face of the black hood, and glancing at the fresh stripes adorning his rear. Her face grew sterner, and Anthea appeased her curiosity.

"He was trying to come in the cage, but the spikes prevented his emission... though his cock has tested their bite most thoroughly. I caught him in the act, and he found the cost of disobedience was six strokes, which I administered with the greatest of pleasure." She smiled down at the streaked hood and bent, pushing his face in the direction of Thelma, to have her note them with pleasure.

"...and he was then put to good use in thanking me for his punishment, there's nothing quite like a fulfilling orgasm first thing." Thelma squirmed her broad and fleshy thighs together, her cunt wet with arousal now, as Prudence jerked the leash and had Horace's eyes look up at her through the mask.

"Disobedience Horace! So this is why you're presented in last night's penitent regalia." She jerked him and walked him across to Thelma, whose excited sneer matched that of his Mistress's. Thelma grinned with satisfaction as his head went down in servile obedience and nudged his gag to her shoes, mimicking the kisses which the smeared hood prevented. Prudence pulled his head up, and had him take a good look at Thelma.

"We'd all like to see you test those barbs inside the cup Horace, and you've already had the scent of dominant womanhood once this morning... it's only fair that you have a sniff of our guest's authority, to acknowledge your place below her... would you like that honour, Horace." Thelma let out a stuttering sigh of pure excitement, as Horace meekly nodded his head in approval, his anus tingling as it gripped at the phallus. Thelma edged forward in the chair, lifting her pleated skirt and spreading her broad thighs to expose the silken clad curve of her vulva, nestling between the flesh of her hot thighs, curving down from below the womanly bulge of her mature belly. Horace's eyes focused on the delicious peach silhouetted in the wet patch of her black gusset, his bell already teased up to the awaiting barbs.

Thelma gratefully cupped her hand behind his head, and pulled his face to her cunt, feeling his nose touch at the wetness of her gusset and his breath play on the folds of her labia. Prudence stooped and gently rubbed the raised wheals on his cheeks, enjoying watching him jerk and nudge at Thelma's cunt.

"Sniff hard, Horace, hard!... you've been disobedient and we want to see you squirm." Horace didn't hesitate in duly obliging, enjoying the musky scent of a woman to whom he'd shown his snobbery to in the past, and now cowered in awe of. The delicious irony was not lost on Thelma by any means, she stroked his head and grinned in sweet triumph as the rich aroma of her cunt had him duly squirm and moan gently as his erect bell was pricked hard by the barbs once more. She made sure he enjoyed the horns of his dilemma in full.

"You always knew your true position, didn't you Horace... behind that pompous facade, you always had that day in the woods to haunt you, on those rare occasions our paths crossed..."" She moved his head back and stared in his eyes, enjoying seeing them water as he grimaced behind the hood.

"...every girl there witnessed your erection Horace, witnessed your weakness, your humiliation, and knew you'd be just where you are now... Oh, if only more women could have witnessed it" Horace's cock pulsed at the barbs as he was made to revisit an episode which had awoken his passion for masochism at the hands of femininity, and saw the delighted spite in the eyes of a woman who'd enjoyed seeing it. He trembled as she looked to Prudence.

"May we remove his gag now, I so want to hear him confess something." Prudence grinned her approval, and Anthea eagerly rolled the hood up to his nose and unbuckled the gag. Horace spluttered and pursed his lips, which were wrinkled and sore, tingling as the blood swelled them back to their original form. Prudence pulled the leash taut, keeping his head upright, as Thelma stroked his chin provocatively with her finely manicured fingers.

"Did you go home and masturbate after what happened Horace... I know I did, such was the thrill of seeing you dominated so easily." The women laughed at Thelma's brash and pleased revelation, Horace pausing for thought for too long in the distraction of their wicked laughter, and earning a sharp slap to the face from Thelma. He winced, his anus squeezing at the nurse, with the lush thrill of being made to humiliate himself.

"Yes... yes, I masturbated... masturbated several times... I couldn't help myself." His response was met with manufactured cynical laughter to magnify his shame, though it was exactly what the women expected to hear. Thelma sneered as she posed another question; as per Anthea, she was fully aware that he wasn't going to be around for much longer, and wanted her cruel money's worth before he went.

"...I'll bet you kept it a secret from anyone else though?... I know Prudence was unaware until I made her acquaintance on your engagement, it gave me such pleasure telling her." Horace's tormented cock warmed to the barbs and dribbled pre-cum, as his masochistic tendencies drove him to reveal something which he hoped would earn him a caning from Prudence, Anthea... or hopefully Thelma.

"I... I told just one other woman... I was forced to." All three women gasped at the unexpected response, Prudence pulling the leash so tight as to strangle him, and Thelma grinning in amazement after a moment, then slapping his face hard.

"You'll tell now!... WHO was it?" Their raw indignation had his anus tingle with a sublime fear, excited by the prospect of harsh punishment. Deep in the sexual euphoria of being humiliated by three women, his mind took him back...

The experience of being bullied and spanked by mere girls had left his ego in tatters, but this cutting and humiliating reduction of his pride, only served to excite the strength of an emerging sexual submissiveness within him. As he tramped home through the woodland, up the path and across the green to an entrance in the hall used only by serving staff, his erection outgrew the shame he'd been subjected to, awarding him a taunting pleasure. In the seclusion of his room, he locked the door and stripped naked, his cock standing rigid as he viewed the still evident impressions of the delicate but stringently authoritative hand that had taken him down to a level he'd never escape from. He lay back on his bed, closing the eyes still sore with the testament of his humiliation, and stroked his cock, whilst writhing in the re-living of the erotic event.

The dark pleasure throbbed through his nurtured bell, as he thought on the feeling of being subdued, the lush scents of their femininity as he was held down, the telling sting of that hand as he was brought to tears, and the cutting laughter as he was punished. A veritable fountain of hot semen burst from his cock, the strength and sheer vitality of his orgasm making it blissfully intense. He'd been dominated, and the taunting pleasure of it in the depths of orgasm, told him he wanted more. He was to receive it, most satisfyingly, from an unseen source he could never have imagined.

His sleep was fitful to say the least, and has he played with his cock, he knew the first awakenings of the bliss of denial, determining not to come, but to re-visit the scene from afar, and wank hard at the sight of the girls. So began a sordid routine for him; he wanted above all, to present himself to the girls for further humiliation, but didn't quite have the courage. He'd leave by the service door, almost daily and sometimes more than once, presuming his exit to be covert, and take the same path into the woodland. There he'd creep to within viewing distance of the girls from a suitable vantage point, and drop his trousers to masturbate at their sight. Even on days when they had failed to commune there, he still sent his seed to the trunk of the convenient tree, as he peered through the crook at their memory.

Emma Hart was Housekeeper at the hall; some 60 years old, she was a naturally stern woman, a widow whose sexual desires were as covert as Horace's expeditions, but equally as strong. She had ruled her late and younger husband with a firm hand and had enjoyed the sating of her superior needs from the moment of wedlock, but he'd foolishly volunteered his services during the Great War. He never returned from France, leaving her needs unattended, and necessarily potent. She had long seen the signs in Horace, that told her expert intuition that he was just the sort of male in need of strict feminine guidance, but could never dare proposition the young man for fear of losing her position, though the prospect of finding a way excited her continually.

Due to this coquettish attraction, and unknown to Horace, she observed his movements at every opportunity. She had heard the service door latch click, and had been nicely stimulated to see the desirable Horace make his way to the woods via the rear path from the scullery window, but thought no more of it on the first occasion she noticed it. She saw the same again the following day, and noting his furtive glances behind him, she alerted to the possibility of his involvement in something a young man of his standing should not be up to, but again dismissed the notion. On seeing his uniform path to the woods on a third occasion, the desire to follow him was irresistible. She checked that no-one saw her leave, and strutted through the exit.

Horace cautiously approached his favoured point, his cock pulsing high at the sound of feminine laughter, his heart racing at the knowledge that they were there today. He dropped his trousers and began to strop his cock, the pleasure immense as he watched the very girl who'd spanked him, stand in pompous authority with hands on hips, her firm breasts jutting in her dress and deriding another girls attraction to some anonymous male, which incurred the cynical feminine laughter of the others. He imagined the laughter to be at his expense, and groaned in submissive ecstasy as he spent his seed liberally, the white loop of his glorious expenditure, sent high to the trunk and dribbling down the contours of its bark.

Emma had moved within ten yards of him, watching with delighted astonishment, her mature cunt tingling as she witnessed him jerk and send his seed high in a tribute to femininity. She had him now... oh, did she have him. She waited till the intensity of his jerking subsided, content in watching the pure ecstasy of his wicked self-abuse in full. Horace's heart jumped as he heard the voice behind him.

"What!... are you doing young man?" Just the sound of her own voice excited her, the tone stark, but carefully executed so as not to be audible to the subjects of his ecstasy, some hundred yards off, her pleasure masked by her stern visual attitude as Horace reddened immediately, his hand still grasping his dribbling cock. He let it go, and fumbled with replacing his pants and trousers, made awkward by the remaining stiffness of his cock.

"I... I..." He couldn't get anything out, so obvious were his base actions that it didn't warrant a reply anyhow, and though he was embarrassed in the extreme, the rush of blood which coloured his face, also had him maintain his erection at being caught by a woman whom he knew to be stern of character. She stood with a fixed sneer on her face, enjoying her opportunist acquirement of power over him, letting him stew for a few moments while the playful laughter continued in the woods behind them. Horace studying her imposing femininity as she stood tall in her black skirt and blouse, her gently lined but not unattractive face, glowing with the haughty triumph of having him in the palm of her hand.

"Masturbation, Master D'Orvell... and in public. Think of the disgrace." Horace's recently spent balls tingled at the curt and wistful smile on her face.

"...we can play this two ways Horace, either I take you to your parents and tell them of your gross indecency... or you'll visit me in my room this evening, and receive appropriate punishment." Horace gasped at the second opportunity, her satisfied smile at the end of it, making her mature and authoritative attractiveness all the stronger. Her cunt tingled sweetly at his broken-voiced reply.

"Oh yes... yes, I'll come to your room... please." She was in her element now, and couldn't resist her immediate temptation to dominate him.

"Good Horace, that would be my preference too... now go down on your knees and thank me for my lenience, I want to hear you say 'Thank you Mistress Hart'." Horace sank to his knees without hesitance, his anus tingling with the pleasure of this subtle humiliation, enhanced wonderfully by the stern woman's look of contempt. Her breasts heaved with a pleasure of her own as he meekly repeated her ordered words in obedience, spoken by the heir to a property in which she was a mere Housekeeper.

"Thank you, thank you... Mistress Hart." Her feeling of triumph was sublime as she looked down to relish him cowering in obedience at her feet, but had to kerb her desires till later.

"You may go now Horace. The end room along the servant's gallery, no earlier than nine, no later than ten... or your parents will know of your filthy perversion." The illuminated look on his face told her there'd be no chance of his parents ever knowing, and he pleased her arousal again as he left.

"Thank you, thank you so much... Mistress Hart." She watched him go, staying behind and lighting a cigarette, puffing it with a lush feeling of decadence, doing her best to have it take her mind away from the tingling in her cunt, lest it had her face flush with the raw sexual excitement she felt. She looked down to the tarty young woman, still gossiping furtively about their exploits. She smiled in their direction, thanking them for the gift they'd presented her with. She had to be sure that they were not aware of his disgraceful exposure though, as this might cause some difficulty for the D'Orvells, so she casually moved out from behind the tree, and wandered down as if out for a stroll in seclusion, to hide her unwomanly smoking habit.

The young ladies were amused at seeing such a smartly dressed and mature woman, out on her own in the woods, and any wariness they might have had was dispersed by her puffs on the cigarette, which gave her a casual air. She feigned to walk past them, then turned to their inquisitive faces, now silenced for a moment.

"You haven't seen a young man about these parts recently, have you?..." Several of them smirked as she gave a good description of Horace, not least the bold one who'd taken pleasure in chastising him, but said nothing. Then one of them grinned slyly, guessing Emma might be from the hall.

"You're not his mother are you?" This followed by much tittering from them all. Emma smiled broadly then took another puff on her nearly depleted cigarette.

"Good god, no... perish the thought." The young lady who'd been the subject of the bold one's derision while Horace spent his load, looked to her tormentor and gave her a curt smile, before turning to Emma cheekily.

"A cigarette might help my memory... if you've a spare one... please." Emma was all too pleased to offer her one, lighting it for her as her red lips sucked at it. She coughed, bringing laughter from the others, not least the bold bitch, who's haughtiness was apparent to Emma. This fired the coughing young woman's spite, as she glared in her direction.

"Oh yes, the snooty oaf was here last week... and SHE gave him a thorough spanking, he really was a drip." Emma's thoughts blessed the bitchy example of womanhood for providence of an unexpected windfall; she now knew just what prompted Horace's visits and intense masturbation, she couldn't wait to humiliate him with it. The bold one sneered at the derided example, and snatched the cigarette from her, taking a puff and feigning indifference to her actions defiantly, though it was obvious that she was a little apprehensive as to what Emma might say. She needn't have worried, Emma was more then delighted.