Heaven Is A Secret Chamber

"There's nothing above you but heaven." whilst Smiling wickedly.

The women all filed past him and Ginger up the cold white marble stairway into the hidden chamber. As they went by, some chuckled, some just grinned, some made comments like.

"Oh, are YOU in for a treat!" Some cut the air with their canes as they went by. Ginger stayed till they had all climbed to the room of his destiny. Smiling sweetly, the alabaster skinned teenager with the flaming hair untied his leash with her nubile fingers.

"Now you will come with me." She walked him very slowly step by step up the stairs; the women had filed on either side of the entrance in two long lines and he was able to see more and more of them the more stairs he ascended.

The air was already perfumed with the scent of female arousal. As he climbed the last few stairs, Ginger stepped smartly to one side; at the far end of the circle was a raised stage, and from the ceiling hung a silky white noose!!! HE WAS TO BE HANGED!

As soon as he passed into the hall, the marble wall rose up behind and sealed the circle. There was no escape.

He was then led, stumbling, by Ginger to a spot just before the stage. The women were silent and all had contented, determined, looks upon their faces. None of them actually smiled; they all looked smug. They had him where they wanted him; he was going to pay with his life for being a submissive male. Then Hortense stepped out again.

"Kneel!" She screamed. He fell instantly to his knees before this goddess who had cruelly tricked him into captivity; he was glad to do so as he legs had turned to jelly. He was trance like, not quite able to believe what was happening to him. Tonight she had a thick spiked collar, a tight black leather corset and very short flared black skirt. Her legs were bare and she stood on the tallest stilettos he had ever seen. Several women turned on camcorders mounted on tripods at this point- every moment of his final time with the women was to be captured at many different angles and sold on to thousands for their pleasure. Hortense began.

"You have been selected to give your all for womanhood. We have seen how you have lusted after humiliation and punishment at the hands of your superiors. You came to me willingly and have never tried to escape. You have already told me in all honesty that you would willingly die for a woman. Now you will realise your ultimate fantasy, but not before you have pleasured each and every woman in this room in their desired way. Every woman here is a dominatrix by nature and has a tale to tell. Our little game is run like a business and every woman has paid a fee to watch you being despatched. The funds are pooled to assist with luring our prey. Special privileges are granted to those who pay the most and the one who has made the capture. I will be the last woman to speak to you before you die."

He was left kneeling there trying to grasp the situation as the women formed a horseshoe shape, looping from the stage at one side, back round past where he had come in, and back up to the stage at the other side. They wheeled, dragged and shuffled the available furnishings into their preferred positions.

He noticed that Martha Hunter was at the very end of the line at one end, behind her was the ebony goddess, and behind her were Marie and Blanche.

'I've paid good money' Martha had told him. His sphincter quivered at what her special privilege may be.

The three maids who had looked after him rather well, and indulged his fantasies to their utmost, continued to do so. The three came to him with a large liquid concoction which could quite easily have been a cocktail.

Ginger put the short cane under his chin to gain his attention and assert her maturing dominance.

"I told you that heaven was above, but first I will enjoy watching you go through hell to reach it!" The blue eyed chauffer teased his cock with the leather gloves he'd seen her wearing in the car;

"Have I helped to drive you to the edge?" She giggled. The hotel maid taunted him with her original fabricated suggestion.

"Are you sure you're not gay? I watched intently as you eyed that black boy's weapon, you seemed to be very interested in it; pity he won't be here tonight. Don't fret though; I think the African lady has kept that situation in mind!"

Just what the maid meant by this he could not be sure. As he gazed around at the females who would all wish to be sated in some way by him; Slender, voluptuous, chubby, late teens, 30's, middle aged, and older, blonde, brunette, auburn, ginger, and black haired, black, white, Asian, Hispanic, he was assured he was not as the hotel maid had joked- they were all so attractive in one way or other-but as he eyed them; the noose, and thought of the situation his extreme heterosexuality had got him into, part of his mind wished he had been born gay!

He downed the curious liquid the maids had given him. He was given five minutes for it to take effect. It seemed to take away any fear in him, and had a cannabis-like effect on his senses.

He began the queue; each woman would take their little piece of him. They all taunted him on one way or another. Some would simply tell him how they had received abuse from males and simply slapped his face-hurrying him along as they were eager to see his fate. Others took their time, treated him cruelly with various implements then had him lick them to orgasm. One thing was uniform; they all said they wanted to see him suffer.

The further he got round, the more the women seemed to want their money's worth. Some of these women were the epitome of a submissive male's dreams; Haughty, forthright, assertive and in beautiful physical condition, he was treated to the most sumptuously scented pussies and bottoms he could ever have dreamed of. How he wished he could be taken away and owned by some of these women, and for the first time since he'd been there, he saw in the eyes of some of those women nearing the end of the queue that they wished that scenario too. He knew though, that this could never be pity for him, but simply a selfish point of view from those women; they wished they could afford a private slave and to snuff him out all on their own.

So far, despite the Viagra and the cannabis-like substance accentuating the sensitivity of his member, he had not been allowed an orgasm. He now approached the two bondage mistresses.

"You took your time." said Marie. "We haven't all day you know. We were hungry the other day and distracted by the barbecue, you never finished the job- we'll both have our pussies licked now if that's ok." He duly obliged, but still did not receive any relief.

"We'll see you again in a minute." they smiled having had their fill of him. His cock was rock hard and the noose beckoned.

He moved on to the ebony goddess; the penultimate dominatrix. She sat back and had him kneel before her. She pulled his head into her sex and had him sniff and lick both her glorious holes until she moaned with pleasure. She then had him lie bent over a bench whilst she retrieved something from her bag; her back to him. He saw her fiddle with some straps, she turned; she now had a member which might have made Chester feel inadequate.

She deftly greased his arse and the enormous phallus and eased it into his anus; this was the most pain he had experienced that evening. She forced the phallus in and out of him and toyed with his cock as she did so. Just as he was beginning to come, she stopped and drew the phallus from him. He was to be denied.

All the women had drawn closer now, as Martha Hunter stepped up to the stage to retrieve the foot-stall. The magnificent sexagenarian now wore a see-through blouse; her breasts still pert and erect, black panties and tights, black stilettos. She had dressed daringly for the occasion, and wanted as many men as possible to masturbate over her whilst watching the video.

She took him to a raised couch which faced the noose. She took off her black stilettos and placed them with the footstall at the edge of the stage so that they were in his full view with the noose behind them. There were to be no mirrors, no women in his view.

"I will now deliver the final caning of your life. You will come quickly and you will then be hanged!" She was not wrong; the women all clapped in time as she struck down with the cane; she had no need to be as vicious as she had been the day before. This was more like Ginger's caning. He squirmed on the couch and eyed the Stilettos, the stall and the noose; inanimate objects which were now deeply erotic. He kept no-one waiting , he was bursting before this session and he convulsed violently, now yearning to feel that noose about his neck, he grunted in deep satisfaction at what he thought would be his last orgasm ever.

He was now led to the noose. All the women now had their favourite toys to hand, in anticipation of the spectacle which was now about to unfold. Their seats all clustered close to the stage to allow them the closest view. He now realised in a stronger sense than ever that he was to die for these women and they would all without exception enjoy watching him suffer.

He was told to stand on the stool. Then the prior day's events began to reveal their reasons when Marie the noose mistress who had tormented him the day before, now stepped up to the stage.

"Do you like my silk and hemp rope, product number 420? We sell a lot of these to countries who still have the sense to hang criminals. If only they'd bring back public hangings!" She placed the silky yet firm noose about his neck. She then went to the tensioner at the rear of the stage and took great delight in winching it up a couple of inches so that he teetered on tiptoe on the precariously small stall. This was not as tense as she would finally want it, but taught enough to be able to adjust the knot to its perfect position. It also gave her the opportunity to taunt her victim.

She returned to him and firmly twisted the noose so that the knot was directly behind his neck. He felt the serrated edge to the rope as she did so- the purpose of this was to ensure that the noose tightened by degrees and would not simply strangle him immediately on his body being suspended. She toyed with the knot.

"There, we must have it there and not to one side. We wouldn't want it to snap your neck and kill you within eight seconds like a conventional hanging, would we? I want to see you suffer. Oh, by the way, can you guess how my husband died?" She then produced a photo; it looked like a sepia tin-type photo of a nineteenth century hanging; a man in a white shroud, no hood-hung lifeless. There was only one other person in the picture; a woman in Victorian style costume.

"Can you make out her face?" It was Marie.

"I had this specially made as a keep-sake. I only show it to special people." She went back to the tensioner and winched another inch.

"Grhhh!" It bit his neck ; he was on his very toes now and wobbled his arms to gain balance 'Click' went the rope as it tightened another notch exquisitely.

"Goodbye." Smiled Marie as she left the stage to a round of applause.

Blanche now approached him.

"Feet together please." She deftly bound his ankles.

"We can't have your legs flailing about, can we? That would be most undignified." She took her time in doing this. She wanted to savour his fear and wanted to emphasise the bondage issue.

"Trussed like a turkey by a woman! I bet you never thought that would happen!" She then held his arms behind his back and bound his wrists tightly.

"We wouldn't want you to grab the rope and spoil your and our fun would we? 'There, you've been rendered helpless by a woman who is eager to witness your death. Because of my bindings you are guaranteed to suffer and will have plenty of time to think of me as you slowly strangle."

Her words and his perilous position which would shortly worsen gave him a handsome erection. He began to savour the humiliation and his worthlessness in the eyes of these women. He was to die for them and he hoped they would not be disappointed.

"I've a photograph of my dead husband too, but I'll leave that to your imagination." Blanche left the stage, a damp patch evident at the front of the skin-tight white satin jodhpurs she wore.

Next, the ebony goddess stepped up. What was she to do? He had an idea who was to make the final gesture, as Martha sat patiently before him.

The African Beauty wore baggy slacks which did nothing for her figure and did nothing to excite him. She laughed and pulled at a waist draw-string with one hand, whilst the other was already within the waist band of the slacks. All was revealed when they fell away; Black panties, black fishnets and her hand held the golden-tailed butt plug.

She held it aloft and the women clapped and cheered. He remembered.

"You can wear it again tomorrow" she had said. The goddess leered at him and said;

"Well white boy, it's a pity I can't take you home with me; I really enjoyed your clean-up job. Guess I'll have to settle for watching you swing. I think you'll find this little toy most helpful." With that she squeezed the plug into his already taught anus. It hurt like hell going in, but provoked his prostate sweetly. She took the fingers from which he'd made the final clean-up yesterday and fondled her crotch. She then allowed him to sniff her aroma and lick them clean.

"Take my scent with you white-boy, perhaps we'll meet again in about 40 years or so!" He watched those delicious shiny black thighs walk away and leave him to die.

Finally, Martha stepped slowly up to the stage to the ubiquitous slow hand clap from the women. She looked gorgeous. It was fitting that a woman of her years should be the one to deliver him to his destiny. He was ready to die for womanhood, and this woman, dominance in its perfection, was to have the last tease.

"I told you I'd paid good money. This is because I've always longed to execute a male. Whilst caning you to submission was exciting, there is nothing that can touch this moment. But when is that moment? I shall decide just when you are to die. I will take that final task. I will be ultimately responsible for your death."

The wicked sneer on her face made him want to die all the more.

"I want you to beg me to kill you." She cut the air with the cane she carried; whoooosh! His response need no prompting, He WANTED to die.

"I beg you, please kill me mistress." He complied with her wishes. God how he worshipped this woman, death at her hands would be bliss. She walked teasingly slowly behind him once more then returned to the front.

"Now you will die!" She kicked the stool from under him and smiled as the noosed tightened a notch or two about his neck; oh! how it hurt!

The women whooped and screamed, cheered and clapped as his body danced delectably at the end of the silken rope; the women had done their jobs well- he was visibly seen to be struggling, the butt plug tail shimmered and bobbed as his body twisted and wobbled at the end of the rope which was slowly bringing death to him. He fought for breath, his head felt it would burst.

'Click', 'click'; the noose got tighter and tighter and he could hear the women taunting him;

"Oh look at him suffer!"

"Excellent."

"I'd love to whip him now!" As he wriggled the butt plug nursed his prostate, he felt the bindings about his wrists and ankles, the noose suddenly felt luxurious.

Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours.

His ridiculed manhood twitched with excitement, his torso bubbled, he was going to come just one more time! Though in his death throes the eroticism of the scene could not be escaped; he felt the warm sensation of ecstasy, convulsed at the end of his rope and spurted his last in honour of womanhood; he shot his cream skyward in several thoroughly enjoyable deliveries and though the women whooped and cheered at his final disgrace, he could still hear his seed splatter against the floor which his feet could not reach.

He was all but gone when Hortense ascended the stage. Hortense; the beautiful woman who had captured him, and arranged his death. He could just make her out; she held the knife from the barbecue up for all to see. There was immediate Silence.

"Now I will take your manhood, I will keep your balls as a trophy." She moved toward him menacingly. How he wanted to die.

She held his balls and he waited for the pain of the cutting blade.

She laughed; and cut the rope! His wretched body dropped and the woman laughed and cheered at his utter humiliation as he regained his breath.

They fuelled his utter humiliation by applauding for a good two minutes whilst Hortense stood dominantly over his quaking body. Then they contemptuously filed away back down from the chamber to enjoy a drink.

"He's yours now." Said Hortense to Martha. She looked wickedly at the pathetic man. She was going to enjoy showing her new 'Teaching assistant' to her girls.

He would die for her on many more occasions.