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If her ego was so rightfully inflated by the atmosphere of this surreal feminine domain, it was matched in every intensity by the rigidity of Crawford’s aching erection, on viewing the righteous smiles of the two magnificently dominant women, their divine right to punish and humiliate him made so spitefully natural and obvious by the baying female crowd, de rigueur.His cock pulsed and wagged high, as if to defy the metallic contraption that the grinning Hope held high for the delighted crowd’s attention, his boning member more than indicating his full attention to it, and his submissive lust at the wonderment of just how the diminutive space within it would feel when his manhood was cruelly imprisoned by it. The atmosphere of absolute feminine dominance had been rigorously applied upon him, when made captive by the women of the society when up in London, but here at Darkington Hall the very walls seemed to exude that rigid regime, enhancing the spite toward masculinity, and. .. I’ll kiss them afterwards, too, ok?”“Almost. And?”She looked down again, but didn’t reply.“I’ll give you a hint”, I said. “I know you wanted to do it. I’m doing you a favour by letting you.”She gasped, as she realised how transparent she’d been. Finally, she spoke.“Thank you ... for using me like this.” She sounded conflicted, but not unwilling.I stood up and hugged her, patting her head.“Good girl. Let’s go have breakfast.”I held her hand, and it cheered her up as we walked to the kitchen together. I realised something about Amanda. She overthought things. Her views were too rigid. Fetching my slippers was a submissive act, and holding hands something normal girlfriends did, as she saw it, so she imagined one had to exclude the other. Well, too bad. Dominating her wasn’t going to stop me from expressing my love in all its varied forms; nor would loving her stop me from putting her in her place, training her to remain there, and making use of her.“I’m scared”, she said, squeezing.
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