Flames of Necessity Pt. 01

"Yes Horace, we want you nicely charged when you offer your submission to Frau Blucher, and I'll not have you spending without permission while you dream about the pleasures you'll offer her." He looked up to her in absolute submission, while his balls tingled to announce the delicious spend in her honour, the notion that there was more to this trip than he was being told, magnifying the erotic euphoria of his rarely allowed stimulation. As she sat with those broad thighs crossed to deny him even the sight of the cunt that he'd worshipped, her arms crossed to match in a stance which emphasised her undeniable superiority, the dark smile she offered as she enjoyed watching his humiliating self abuse, had him guess at the true purpose of his trip... and the seed rose from his balls in masochistic approval of his possible disposal.

Horace D'Orvell conceded that he might be the last installment of his family history and now he knew it. His feeble genetic line was sorely in need of the vigour of a strong female bloodline, and the robust physicality and confident manner of Prudence, determined her selection by his parents; his father masturbating over her in secret, the carnal desire bolstering that choice, but his hidden submissive desires at the point of ejaculation, heralding the inherent masculine weakness that was passed down to Horace. The younger man had had some fine aspirations as to sons and heirs when first wed, feeling the need to further family tradition, but his impudence was soon rebuked by Prudence as she firmly took control of him. He was queened on his first night; one of the few penetrations allowed him, then introduced to the pleasures of oral cleansing as Prudence sat enthroned upon his face, boldly announcing her awareness of his servile desire to womanhood, and of her immediate intent to enforce that destiny.

No, Prudence had not the slightest maternal inkling for the burden of motherhood and costly expense of children, both to her superb physique and financially. Horace was enveloped in the opiate of his own sexual euphoria as he was taught his place in life, openly cuckolded, going willingly to know the dominant spite of her friends, her lady in waiting becoming his Governess, and displayed on a leash as Prudence's property at functions. The haughty and dominant wife sucked any essence of defiance from him, as a black widow consumes it's diminutive and feeble male partner; just payment for the pleasure of service to an indomitable partner. Horace was consumed thus, her spiteful whims and pleasure in his humiliation, the only factors in preventing her from devouring him completely. The lushly masochistic pleasure of his position, enhanced by the tart and cutting denial by her, which extinguished the perpetuation of his family line, made the rare spend he was about to unleash to her feet so wholesomely gratifying as he wallowed in submission and eyed the cruel belt.

Prudence and Anthea sneered with their own satisfaction as Horace groaned in pure ecstasy, their soft and cynical laughter at his pleasure in shamelessly abusing himself, prompting a rich and generous burst of hot seed which spat from his pleasured bell, the loop of cream snaking out to caress Prudence's extended stockinged leg and dribble to her shoe. This was followed by lusty secondary spurts which delighted Prudence as they graced the shiny leather of her shoe, Horace bucking wistfully on his knees while Anthea tapped the rude steel cup of the belt to ensure he emptied his balls adequately. His anus tingled as the last drops of semen dribbled from his cock while he awaited the command he knew would come. Prudence duly obliged pointing a waving finger at her leg and shoe, and to the dribbled blobs on the carpet.

"Lick it up Horace. You know the drill." Their contempt for him was reinforced on his willingness to apply his tongue to the smooth surfaces of her shoe, slipping across the leather to lick his own cream from it, his delight in rasping it from the mesh of her black stockings, so evident in the performance of his duty. His anus tingled in telling him that this was where he wanted to be, humiliated by the power of womanhood, the thought of what he was to suffer in Berlin, having his balls tingling already at the thought of his next come. His sexual submission was made perpetual by the rigours of his Mistress, maid, and many friends, their appetites for dominance so keen in this world where women were beginning to show their assertive power so keenly; his path in life well and truly set below that power.

Prudence sneered whimsically on watching him consume his own mess, she would miss his adoringly servile attentions, her friends even more, but the sexual thrill of his sale to a woman abroad, and her plans for the house, far outweighed any sentiment... and she already had designs on a male whose situation suited all her purposes so readily.

"Now lick your filth from the carpet Horace, every drop... or you'll spend the night in the priest-hole." Horace's anus stirred at the thought of being made to squirm in the confines of the restrictive cavity which existed in the Elizabethan wing of the now monolithic structure, the original part of the much extended house, but the delights of the belt were submission enough, and he wanted to be able to stretch and know its full torment. He dutifully consumed the now cold and slippery blobs which adorned the carpet. Anthea pointed him to a stout chair and he knelt on it, she smiling on seeing his flaccid cock was already threatening to swell in its pleasure at tormented confinement.

"Let's have this skirt off, it's nearly seven o'clock, way past your bedtime tonight." Prudence joined her and rubbed his poking cheeks, increasing the swell as Anthea tied the waistband, then brought the steel band with its ominous cup, up between his legs on its hinge to greet the lock at the rear of the waist, deftly stuffing his hanging sack and cock into the tight steel pouch before securing it. Horace gasped softly at the feel of the cold steel, which cooled his ardour momentarily, but within seconds, his only slightly swollen cock felt the tease of the first barbs which would grace his pleasure in erection. Prudence grinned as she put her hand to the shining cup, her fingers feeling the neatly machined perforations which would allow him to pee, fingering the small dome at its apex and willing his bell to accommodate the spiked hosts within it.

"There! My knight wears the armour so suited to his station... and as he's been particularly noble on my return, he'll sleep with the lady of the manor tonight." Horace grimaced on feeling her hand run under the thin band to where it joined a circular ring, keeping his anus neatly spread, his exposed pucker peeping through an orifice broad enough to allow him to shit in confinement, and broad enough to have him accept something else. Anthea chuckled as Prudence's finger teased the pucker with a sharp nail, Horace's squirming increasing as his bell eased up to know the spite of the first spikes.

"Why yes Prudence... he shall have the 'Nurse', she'll keep him reminded of his position in the household." Horace whimpered pitifully, pleasing the women no end as Anthea had him view the shiny phallic accessory which would ensure he enjoyed the benefits of the belt in full. Delightfully curved and with an exquisitely broad bell, the phallus was ornately engraved with the image of a stern woman holding a whip, and below her the words which were from his very own family crest; 'Serve and prosper.' Prudence watched with sublime satisfaction on Anthea easing the broad bell through the ring, Horace gasping as the rude invader stretched his anus wide, his expression twisted at the plethora of sensations. The lush mental recognition of his submission as Anthea pushed the phallus home and clicked the clasp shut on the ring, was as equally stimulating as the physical presence, which in turn had his enslaved cock erect to know the cruel barbs in the tight dome. Prudence glowed with sadistic satisfaction as he shuddered on his knees, in coming to terms with the pains and pleasures of the belt's command of him, each fitting, an exquisite ordeal, though the 'Nurse' was an extra delight reserved for special occasions such as this.

"There! You know there's always a price to be paid for the impertinence of your ejaculation. Anthea will see you to your bed now, where your dreams can't fail to be sweet indeed." He was leashed and led on all fours out of the room, the women now confident that the maid and footman had now departed for home. Prudence accompanying Anthea along the broad and lengthy corridor, enjoying Horace's laboured progress as the motion had the nurse massage his prostate, on his approach to the dark stairway which would take him up to his secluded room in the floor above. Prudence stopped at the door of the bathroom, she required the refreshment of quick bathe before venturing out again, to view a prospective asset whom she had varied plans for.

"See him gagged and nicely secured Anthea, we'll not have him try to tamper with the belt, as tightly locked as it is." There was little chance of his tampering with the belt, he wouldn't dare to, and the masochistic pleasures it gave him were accepted by his weak obedience. Both women knew this, but the broadcast added extra flavour to his plight, in having him know the complete control of his stern wife. She grinned as she watched him tugged toward the stairs, content with progress in her scheme so far, and entered the musty dampness of the bathroom. She laughed to herself as the dowdy taps spat and barked water to the staidly Victorian enamel bath, the walls bumped and knocked by the tired plumbing as it slowly filled, this one of several bathrooms all in similar condition. The noise made her smile as she slipped hastily into the still filling bath, her mind now flitting between the Dorset sun, the convenience of the mews in Chelsea... and the demise of this millstone of a hall.

Horace's eyes were watering freely as Anthea led him to the bed and ordered him up. He knelt obediently on it, as first she selected a pink chiffon waist-length negligee from a draw, and smiled as he lifted his arms to accept it; he as eager to be humiliatingly feminised in wearing at, as she was in seeing its effect in emasculating him. Next he was smartly gagged with a tight leather thong which sported a globular fleshy bung which his mouth consumed with equal eagerness. Anthea smiled serenely on seeing him squirm, on a pulse to erection having him enjoy the barbs, at her slipping a black silken hood over his head; just his eyes peeped through its holes in confirming he had no identity now, he was nothing but enslaved property.

She delighted in her power over him as he held his wrists behind him in total obedience, quivering in absolute submission to her while she bound them, then placing his legs together as he lay helpless while she bound his ankles. Her cunt tingled with the earnest pleasure of sexual dominance as she lifted her skirt and sat to have him sniff her anal scent through the hood, hearing his muffled whimper through the gag as her lush tang had his cock punish itself in full as it pressed hard to the wicked barbs; the nightly ritual equivalent of a kiss goodnight, so special on this occasion, thanks to the delights of the belt. She stood, and drew back the curtains which revealed wall length mirrors which were fitted across the windows, no natural light awarded the once master of the house in which he was now captive.

"Look at yourself Horace... Dominated, beaten, a worthless excuse of a male." She longed to tell him he was to be passed on like a used toy to Frau Blucher, to know her whips and whims which would be harsher than anything Prudence had awarded him, but left, content in knowing she'd soon have a fresh toy to govern when Prudence implicated her choice in the scheme, leaving a light on so's Horace could thoroughly enjoy his night.

Horace's erection was gratefully maintained as he squirmed in bondage, and was teased irresistibly by the reflection which confirmed his strict Governess's words beyond any doubt. The silence which descended on her leaving, and the comfort of the bed, served to accentuate the throbbing pain within the steel pouch, and the lush sensations of the unforgiving phallus, his anus reacting to the sharp pain in squeezing at its delightful intrusion. He sniffed hard through the hood, hoping the residual scent left when the fabric had been pressed hard to the sticky reward of her dominance, would last forever.

With his bell pulsing like an ensnared slug, caught in the sharp teeth of a predator, he sank into an erotic, mantra-like trance in trying to come despite the pain, while his gaze at the feminised and hooded reflection confirmed the cur he truly was. Peaking at the point of no return on several occasions, whilst pulsing his lubricated bell at the smoothness between the barbs, the blissful denial was as potent as any orgasm in his masochistic defeat.

Prudence powdered herself down and sprayed herself with perfume, before donning a tight black jacket and skirt, cocking her small black hat with matching lace veil to one side in the mirror, then slipping on her black gloves. She descended the stairs and sauntered down to the south extension, switching on the lights though the evening sunshine was bright, and delighted to see them flicker, and hear an audible buzz emanating from behind the brass switch. She swiftly flicked it off.

The insurance agent had been very casual in not noting this when he did his inspection. As he was in the pocket of one of Prudence's friends, Thelma Stone, he was held to task not to. She smiled as she recalled how refreshing it was to openly boss him around the place, knowing he was regularly dominated by Ms Stone, and he knowing full well that Prudence was equally controlling, he didn't report anything untoward about the more rickety parts of the hall, and the premium was unsurprisingly cheap. Thelma ran an agency through which Prudence obtained her staff, who were hand picked for their qualities. With some, such as the maid and footman, it was for their proven abilities in the required field, with others, such as the male she would now visit at a tithe cottage on the estate, it was due to other factors that Thelma had uncovered through darker avenues. Prudence picked up the keys to the Riley, left as usual on the entrance hall table by the recently departed footman, and stepped into the sunlight to board the now shiny car.

Horatio Barker cursed his luck at having been informed by the plump and naturally assertive Thelma, that his short stay of employment at the hall would be coming to and end shortly, but teased him with the possibility that there may be other tasks required of him at Mannerly Hall before his departure. She also hinted that she might speak with Madam D'Orvell to see if services other than the woodland management and gardening role would be required of him, and either way, Thelma told him, she was going to keep him on her books and make 'good use of him'. Thelma had smiled at him wickedly, when he'd been given this information on receiving his wage packet at the agency. She knew of his history and attraction to mature women of her disposition, and curtly advised him to remain available for her disposal, knowing she'd be employing his services in a less official scenario soon; the statement and thought behind it, giving her a pleasing sexual buzz in demonstrating her advantage over him.

Thelma and Prudence were fully aware of Barker's shadier escapades in the past, which had made him the perfect candidate in assisting in Prudence's grand plan. He'd been implicated in a scandalous and illicit syndicate, run and controlled by by a woman. She had smiled with victorious satisfaction from the dock at court, to the excited and cynical gasps from the gallery, on looking across to the confined Barker and other males, to confirm how she'd controlled them all in exchange for sexual favours in which she instilled that control with discipline. The previous convictions of some of those males, involving apprehension at the premises of stern women, earned them jail sentences for their part in this venture. Barker however, was unknown to the law prior to this exposure, and escaped confinement. He could never escape the shame however, and the erection inducing smile that the woman gave him before receiving her term in Holloway Prison, would curse him forever.

Thelma had sourced him through the darker corridors open to her, through association with women who shared her strong sexual appetite for feminine supremacy. She'd enjoyed having him like putty in her hands in her official capacity, he more than grateful for employment, as meagre as it was. He'd been given just a few weeks, just enough time to have him feel comfortable at the cottage and become familiar with the surroundings, the trackways through the woods which offered routes to the highways unseen from the Hall's approach road, the layout of the estate... and on occasion, a glimpse of Madam Prudence D'Orvell, whose obviously authoritative demeanour took him back to that smile at court. Whilst assisting the now departed occupant of the gatehouse, in freeing a hinge on the rusting wrought iron gate, the male had caught his wistful gaze at her as she smiled pompously at him on passing in her Riley.

"She's way out of your league, mate." He'd sniggered; this as part of the last conversation he'd had with him before he received his cards and vacated the place. He was far from being out of Prudence's league though; his track record of driving and completing tasks at the behest of a woman, was an ideal to her, not a subject of shame. She had covertly watched him work, while he was teased into the idyll of some semblance of security in his post; he was a little older than her usual tastes required, but was physically fit and would complement a leash exquisitely. Now he was purposely teased with the prospect of losing that security, he'd be willing to do anything, legal or illegal, especially for a woman who'd take absolute control of him.

Barker froze and ceased wielding the axe he was using to chop logs behind the cottage, on hearing the sound of a car traverse the bumpy track outside and pull up by the cottage, the distress call of the blackbird whose doleful song had continued despite the dull thud of his axe, echoing eerily through the woods, alarmed by a more potent presence. He swallowed hard on guessing who it was, hastily trying to pull on his discarded shirt as he walked round the side of the dilapidated building, fearing that this was his final week there. He gasped and fumbled with the fastenings of the shirt on coming face to face with Prudence, who smiled lustily at the exposure of his chest, while picking daintily on her tall shoes to avoid the mire.

His cock stirred immediately at her imposing presence, her lush perfume overpowering the smell of cut wood and leafy debris, as if to have it bow to her authority. She enjoyed watching him gape nervously for a moment while he secured his shirt, her continuing smile, easing him a little.

"Well Barker, are you to show me in? He fumbled with the door at the side, and opened it.

"Why yes... of course." He stood aside, and she stepped imperiously past, already aroused herself at his obedient manner. She grinned with satisfaction on seeing the neat and tidy interior, which had been a complete shambles before his arrival, the previously damp patched and grey walls now whitewashed, to afford assistance to the illumination of the dank dwelling. She perked immediately to pressing the point of his employment, with spiteful pleasure.

"I see you were expecting to remain here for some time, you've refreshed my asset most admirably." His heart raced at what might come next, then his cock was stirred further as she strutted to the fireplace and bent low without bending her legs, displaying the superbly broad curve of her arse as she feigned interest in the now polished copper implements adorning it. He fought hard with what to say, then stuttered out the first thing that came into his head.