Occult Justice 3

The younger women fawned over the pregnant girl, expressing their desire to attain the seniority among the women that her expectancy confirmed, and experience the just treatment of a guilty male themselves; each one blossoming with the spite for masculinity that grew stronger with each day under the guidance of the elder matriarchs. This after those senior women of the coven had showered her with their glowing congratulations on the superb command she’d shown over the hapless male who had violated her with his seed. One of their elder members, Miriam Holt, a very plump brunette woman of about sixty-five years with a presence that alone had brought many males into immediate obedience, noted that Bathsheba and Agatha showed an extra pleasure that was beyond their normal delight on such occasions as they watched the praise of the excited younger women. She smirked at the two of them.

‘What is it that you two have that brings such a special euphoria today? You’ve seen many males tested before; it’s not just that is it.’ Bathsheba looked at Agatha, and the two grinned at each other as she pulled the black silk from her bag.

‘I had hoped Thelma could be here, but I fear she’s enjoying the pleasure of dominating her youthful charge to the full and may be some time yet.’ The elder women left their seats on seeing the black bundle in her hand, and Bathsheba smiled toward the nubile young girls who were lost in their admiration for the pregnant girl.

‘Agatha and I, with more than a little help from Sadie, have secured a prize which I’d love to have the younger women entertain at my home as he’s prepared for a visit elsewhere.’ The women gasped, no more so than Miriam, whose mature cunt tingled in anticipation on Bathsheba opening the silk and displaying it; the white streaks abundant upon it, flakes of dried seed fluttering from it to be eagerly caught and tasted by those women close enough.

‘Behold the seed of Matthew Hopkins!’ Miriam scraped at a flake with her finely manicured finger, and closed her eyes as she tasted it.

‘You’re sure?’ Bathsheba grinned as the women clamored to see the black silk which ensured a male would wear the white shroud at Burntwood House.

‘There is no doubt whatsoever, and he lies bound and silenced below the shroud, eager to be dominated, a cur true to his lifeblood.’ Miriam’s mature breasts poked nipples hard with dominant excitement, her wicked grin full of the divine thought of sweet retribution.

‘Yes, the girls will have him on his journey to the velvet bench, but they’ll not be made aware of his significance till the day; they’re impetuous in their spite and we don’t want to spoil it for him … but I demand that he is mine for a day, there’s no rush and we’ll all want to savor his torment … and I can see you’ve already begun his path to correction.’ The women showed their appreciation as the silk was passed and inspected, Agatha laughing softly.

‘Oh yes, he came most satisfactorily under the whip, and he’ll spend many times before his final release on the rope; there is a delightful twist to his story concerning his ex-wife, we shall seek her out and perhaps indulge her interest in the matter, should she be suitable.’

Arne’s anus tingled as he heard the door open, knowing he would face immediate humiliating derision and punishment, his cock bone hard again with it’s bell end glistening with the evidence also borne by the sheets; he had spent gloriously in bondage and would pay dearly for it. He strained to see what made his ears prick up; the sound of many giggling females as well as the dominant tones of Bathsheba and Agatha. Bathsheba sneered as she saw the result of his submissive weakness on her sheets, showing immediate disdain, though it was no more than she expected. His cock pulsed rigid as his eyes were filled with the nubile young females who stood by the bed, their eyes full of feminine spite as they began to undress, their impetuousness foregoing any such command from the older women.

‘Here is a male outsider who has earned the right to assist with your development. As you can see, he is eager to spend without permission.’ She lifted his head by the hair and slapped his face hard, making him grunt into the gag, and bringing contemptuous laughter from the young girls, many of whom displayed their firm petite breasts and tight slits already, making him yearn to spend again.

‘You may remove his gag when he has spent under your canes and whips, to allow him to give his thanks to your scents and tastes and you may have him beg your pleasure, but do not question his identity; he is of no significance at this point and will suffer your exercises as the nameless cur that he is.’ She sneered as she slapped his face again.

‘You do want to be dominated by our younger members don’t you? They’ll soon wear the black of our coven, and you’ll find their spite most invigorating.’ Arne whimpered through the gag and nodded obediently as he watched the lithe forms of teenage girls eagerly select whips and canes from a closet opened by Agatha, others staring with cruel delight at the admission which would receive their spite. Bathsheba grinned as Agatha joined her and the two made it obvious they were to depart, leaving him to enjoy the spite of the girls unsupervised

‘Cane him well girls! We have a little business to attend to this morning, and will be back at noon; there’ll be a special a special mention to the elders of our coven for the girls who make him spend.’ Arne writhed on the bed as a young ginger girl took the initiative and knelt on the bed, lifting his head to sniff at the pink aroused lips which bulged from her milky white cunt.

‘Sniff cur! Know my scent, I’m going to thrash you till you cry for me.’ His cock boned as another untied the leash between wrists and ankles, and others pulled his legs down, another slipping her soft arse and shapely thighs up to his face to have him sniff at her pucker as soon as the ginger girl stood with her cane, the gag swiftly unbuckled to allow the service of his tongue. He was overwhelmed as the youthful harpies descended on him like ants consuming a larger prey, lapsing into a new and exhilarating sense of submission on being held down by the soft bodies of females, all at an age where he would have chided them for their cheek in an everyday situation; he was now under their control, whipped and dominated by them, immersed in the sensual feel of their flesh and sweet scents he would soon spend. The sound of the ginger girl’s cane was interspersed with the derisory laughter from the two older women as they left him to the spontaneous enthusiasm of the young girls, bringing him ever closer to shooting his mess as he bucked in pain, the white flesh of the young redhead rippling as she applied the cane relentlessly in her efforts to have him spurt.

Arne twisted his head from the grasp of the blonde girl at his face, and watched through watery eyes as a black haired girl tried to bully the ginger girl aside in a frenzy to unleash her cane upon the mature male’s flesh; she was shown short shrift by the redhead who held her position valiantly, pushing her over with dominant aplomb.

‘Mine! Wait your turn, he’ll spend for me!’ He saw the admission of defeat to a stronger force in the black haired girl’s eyes as she climbed back from her knees, and saw the delicious spite in the triumphant ginger girl’s eyes, meeting his as she brought the cane down hard to stripe his buttocks; she was no more than sixteen, if that, and he was going to come for her. The blonde girl pulled his head back.

‘Never mind her, lick my arsehole, I want to feel your defeat when you spend!’ He dutifully obliged, and slipped his tongue into the tight warmth of her young anus, pressing it deep and sniffing hard at the spicy arousal of her tight little cunt while dainty fingers with glossy pink nails slipped over her budding clitoris. His mind was captured by the vision of the ginger girl’s spite though, she had him and he and she both knew it; the young blonde lifted her legs high as he thrust at the mattress, tears now flowing as the dominant ginger girl whipped a tantalizing song from the cane and his flesh, his moaning as the seed burst from his cock then rewarded with a rapid crescendo of strokes. The sneers and giggles from his youthful captors ensured his orgasm was long and his emission plentiful, the ginger girl in a spiteful rapture as he bucked and jetted his semen under her cane, she whipping each pulse of hot cream from his balls.

‘Yes! … Yes! … He comes just for me! I’ve broken him! The naivety of her words helped prolong the lush orgasm which she had indeed created, the blonde girl whimpering in her own ecstasy as his tongue darted repeatedly back and forth into the depths of her anus as though in spasm. She had barely completed her orgasm when the brash ginger girl dropped her cane and pushed her aside, slipping her own wet crotch up to his face and lifting her plump white thighs.

‘You sniff that arsehole hard before you lick it; see how you’ve made me nice and sticky.’ Though spent, Arne sniffed lustily at the delightful tang of her arsehole which was complimented by the heady whiff of her full arousal, the juices dribbling from her beautiful pink butterfly as she caressed it in triumph.

‘Lick!’ The haughty young bitch lifted her legs high and sighed as he tasted the acrid but pleasing tones of her hot anus, careful to lick the arousal from around her light brown pucker before burying his face in the warmth of her soft white cheeks. While some of the girls were content to hold the male down and watch him dominated till their turn arose, the black haired girl, and others, paced impatiently with their canes; it was to be a long and hard lesson for Arne.

Bathsheba and Agatha had little trouble in locating Arne’s ex wife; she lived locally in a modest but comfortable detached house. They found her number in the phone directory, and sat in the car close to the house waiting for the right moment to chance calling her, to get a feel for how she may be. Bathsheba called it once, but there was no answer; the two were about to leave when a car drove into the drive. The two were very pleased to see a male get out and walk round the car to open the door for a shapely woman to step out, a practice not seen too often these days. They then saw her point the male to the back of the car, leaving him to carry several bags while she strutted empty handed to her door; she certainly looked every inch the dominant woman Arne had described. Bathsheba waited a few minutes then phoned.

‘Hello, can I speak to Ms Carol Finch please?’ A male voice answered, timidly and politely.

‘May I ask who’s calling?’

‘Bathsheba Blackwood.’ The phone went quiet while he communicated with his Mistress.

‘Ms Finch does not know of any Ms Blackwood, can I please ask the nature of your inquiry?’ The two grinned as his studied politeness came over the phone’s loudspeaker; he had obviously been well trained by her, especially when addressing any female, regardless of who she may be.

‘Tell her it’s her ex husband’s new owners; we’d like to ask her opinion on something.’ The phone went quiet, then the distinct sound of stilettos on a hard floor greeted their ears.

‘Hello, this is Carol Finch … you want to ask about my ex? Which one?’ Her pompous tone delighted them; she had acquired her comfortable living through many males it would seem.

‘Arne, Thomas Arne … he belongs to us now, and we’re very keen to know your opinion on something, knowing exactly how you disposed of his services … it’s our duty to do so within our ‘society’, you having been his former owner.’

Even without seeing her body language, they could feel she was intrigued, and the direct approach had put her at ease immediately.

‘He is of no consequence to me any more … but I like your style; what is it you want to know?’

‘We’re right outside, may we come in?’ They stepped from the car and saw the curtains brushed aside in the front window; she smiled at them.

‘Please do.’ They walked the drive and the male who carried opened the door to them and ushered them in, meekly and silently. He showed them to the plushly appointed lounge with several large black leather sofas; it was apparent that she liked to entertain in company. She sat with her shapely legs crossed in one of them, smiled at the women, then gave a stern glance at the male.

‘Bring some coffee, then upstairs in the bedroom; I have something to discuss which doesn’t concern you. Don’t look so worried, you haven’t been sold … not yet anyhow.’ The two liked her style too, and the coffee was duly served as they introduced themselves, the male ascending the stairs immediately in silent obedience. Bathsheba smirked as he left.

‘I see you have your present husband well trained; he’s a nice handsome example too.’ Ms Finch grinned.

‘Oh, that’s not my present husband, I own him just the same but my husband is being dominated by a prospective purchaser at the moment; he’s had his eighteen months of pleasure at my hand, and as soon as my solicitor has his assets nicely tied up in my name, I’ll be off to the Riviera for a few weeks to seek my next wealthy project … but what of Arne? I owe him a certain debt which irks me a little; it was his weakness which set me on my path, giving me the appetite for dominance I now enjoy. Disposing of him was such a pleasure at the time, the more pain he enjoys the better … I do hope he is paying dearly for his existence.’ Bathsheba’s arousal grew as she saw the combination of spite and indifference that his former wife had for him.

‘How would you like to witness that debt repaid in full, wiping your conscience clean of his tiresome existence, allowing you to be rid of that burden forever?’ Carol’s cunt tingled as she twitched with a certain excitement, not daring to assume the true meaning of the statement. Agatha cut in before she could answer, allowing her to dwell on the delicious prospect.

‘You see, he owes us a debt too … we are members of a coven, yes … witches, and your correct lifestyle is most appealing to our order. You’re also instrumental in bringing Arne to us, so we too are indebted to you; we’d love it if you’d consider being ordained, there are many benefits you’d find pleasing, besides the one which is the purpose of our visit.’ Carol’s look of contented severity hardened along with the swelling of her cunt.

‘I’ve long lusted to bring that point of finality to several of my conquests, but the opportunity has never allowed that pleasure; they’ve always escaped due to my need to extract their assets, and my obvious recent connection with them denied me that pleasure. Arne has been wiped as far as local knowledge is concerned, my disposal some six years ago; the manner of my seeing him disposed was immense at the time, but witnessing him pay in full would be ecstasy … but what is his debt to you?’ Bathsheba related the facts regarding his bloodline and the history behind it as the dominant Ms Carol Finch listened intently, her arousal growing as the justification for what would follow met with her absolute enthusiasm. Agatha interspersed with the pleasing benefits that joining their order would bring; besides the highly erotic scenario of witnessing the cleansing of the debt, she would enjoy a part in controlling the destiny and disposal of other males too, whilst free to perform her financial interests in the field as before. The excitement of the moment was shared by all three, Bathsheba calmly finished her coffee.

‘It’ll be such a delicious twist to have you there in black silks; he’ll not know his fate till he sees the bench and gallows, that will be such a pleasure on its own as it always is, but for you to reveal yourself and show your pleasure with the whip before he hangs will be exquisite. He’ll spend most satisfactorily on the rope.’

THE END OF CHAPTER THREE