New World Order (3/3)

“Now... gentlemen...!” The girl doesn't manage to hold back some giggling in regard of such an address. But the mistress doesn't let herself getting disturbed by that:
“You may have realised by now, that this will be your terminal lesson. To my left, there's the gallows. And my sure-handed young sister, will string you up from it just one after another. Despite you being male, i am well aware, that for anyone, his existence is a very precious thing. Nonetheless your mere existence being a threat for our society, it's the counselling sister expressed opinion, those of your kind are to be hung. And we don't want to disrespect their feelings after all, do we...?
It might be futile to do, but i would like to address your intellectual dimension now. Condoms today, those you got slipped over right now, are not what condoms meant to be in former times. As we all want society to prospect, your exterminal semen will not be spurted in vain. As we're going to collect it. And we are going to use it so our beloved sisters may develop to real women, that meaning to give birth. As we are a civilized society today, we want to keep the violent sexual moment, all you males convey, off them.
But although your physical drive might not be fulfilled, at least not the way you urge for, rape, control and by that: abuse, your semen will be seeded on fertile ground, and it will help to give birth to new life. And isn't that all you're urging for in the end? To inseminate? To have distributed your sperm?
So this is the terminal lesson! And this is what this lesson is all about: We're fulfilling the circle of life, and we are providing to you the means to do it right!
I thank you for your attention!”
Silence. Then...
“Don't you want to thank your mistress for such a enlightening guidance?” the younger one whispers menacingly. The guys hesitate first, than there is a inconsistent murmur of “Thank you” and similar expressions.
“I beg your pardon” the younger sister steps forward, twitching the aluminium bar.
“Thank you very much, mistress” voices the choir at once.
“You do know how to be polite, but rather prefer not to be, do you?” the girl states, not for waiting for an answer this time.
“Please, proceed now.” the mistress asks her sister. “Only this one...” turning to the young one at the bottom of the row, “This one is going to do me a little favour...”
“Step forward, prick!” the apprentice commands and he does. The lady meanwhile moves back to her armchair, letting herself down on it, sinking into the soft cushion, slipping with one hand under pinafore and skirt, pulling forth her panties, dropping it carelessly.
“I like that one somehow, he'll give me pleasure until you carried out the four other ones. He's going last. And we're going to make it a bit easier for him in return.” She spreads her legs: “So please...”
The girl doesn't manage to hold back a dissatisfied look, but it's how her mistress feels like, so of course she doesn't oppose herself to that. Only the guy doesn't move.
“So go over to your mistress and do as she asked you to.”
He makes some steps toward her, then halts, not knowing where to look, getting no help from his fellows, stricken with fear, helplessly turning towards younger and older sister, does one more step than halts again, already in front of her:
“But isn't... that... considered disgraceful...?” he manages.
“You stop arguing now and kneel down in front of your mistress!” the apprentice screams, coming upon him eagerly.
“But...”
“Do you see these hands, son...?” the experienced one displays her skinny dexterous fingers, “I have stopped counting a long time ago now. But let me assure you of one thing: i know very well how to slip a noose over a handsome lad's neck like yours is. I can make you dance just as long as i want you to...”
Now the guy trembling with fear more than ever before finally breaks out in tears.
“I... I...”
The rod hitting the hollow of his knees from behind makes him do what he resisted to do, kneeling before the mistress, his unbalanced body nearly topples over, his chin coming to rest just between the legs of his mistress, who instantly pulls up her skirt, so her blossom lies open in front of him, filling his senses with her scent. She slides the skirt back, covering his head.
“You are going to start veery slowly. Just count, every noise of a stool kicked, you may get faster. It would be perfect to climax at number four.
I might reconsider your uninsightfullness then...”
And still sobbing, he starts licking eagerly. Shivering over and over while pleasuring her.
“Please...” says the mistress winking somewhat thoughtlessly towards her apprentice, getting more relaxed every minute.
It's finally the turn of our young instructress now, who moves to the next guy in the row, grabs his arm and drags him silently towards the beam, and the stool placed beneath. She puts up one of the nooses form the ground, gets behind him, slips it over his head, places it tight around his neck then, witnessing the shiver running down his body, when the rope embraces his delicate skin. The end of the rope following down his spine now.
“Step on the stool know.” she commands and he does. She places one of the stools behind his, steps upon it, is very close to him, smells the fear from his naked body, sees the muscles, their trembling, she has done quite some so far, but she still is not yet used to it. She wants to enjoy it one day, probably not quite like her mistress does right now, but she wants to be able to really do it out of ease once. She takes the loose end, then fixes it to the hook. Then steps down again, leaving him strung up. Bending aside, to see if the mistress is about to something. But being rather occupied right now, she doesn't really want to have to interfere any more, waving slightly annoyed with her hand:
“Jjj...ust go ahead. Strr...ing them up..., right one after the other, you... mhmm... are able to do that!”
The girl hesitating one more moment, thank kicking hard against the stool, that rumbles from under the first guys feet. He doesn't really drop, just dangles following the impulse he received, one of the guys in the row emits a shrill shriek, the mistress opens her mouth wide, sliding the tongue over her lips, as the helpless guy slowly starts to kick, driven from the nooses grab around his soft neck, his muscles spasm, his cock rises continuingly, then he quickly gets limb. The apprentice just manages to get in his front in time, he didn't spurt by himself so far, but a slight manipulation from her hand makes him come involuntarily but swiftly,than dangling still from the rope. The lady moans. A slight scent of death is filling the room now.
More resistance from the next, the suicidal one. She gets him up the stool, but as she wants to knot the end of the rope he starts to yell:
“You're not instructesses... What you're is murderesses, you're plain killers, that's what you are. I crap on your society. This is no civilization! This is a terror rule! You might kill us now! But there will be resistance, there will be....”
The older sister definitely angry from being disturbed while receiving pleasure, yells:
“Just shift the noose a little bit under his chin. This is still a lesson, and than make him quiet!”
“You can torture me to the end, just go on, just reveal your true nature, you monste...” The stool leaves his feet noisily, cutting off his breath, bending back his head, he is kicking instantly, his hopeful feet trying to touch ground made unreachable for him, his body stretches, longer and longer, but far from getting him anywhere, continuing kicking, sobering from the two left in the row, witnessing terrorised the dance of their fellow, getting nearer and nearer to their own fate. It takes him 5 minutes, the tightened sling forces his penis up like an awaking sprout, it waggles futilely, he doesn't come, he doesn't go, dangling like forever from the noose's end, kicking, palpitating, agony forming his face to the likeness of his mistress. Then he finally shoots into the condom. His tired dick finally bends downs, dragging his resistance with it, bringing him down, then his is still.
Number three, being overweight goes quite easily, he hangs still from the noose, without any kicking, only shivering slightly. Two, three pumps are enough to milk him, then there is finally a third lifeless body, hung by its neck, carried by a massive beam.
The lady now is fully aroused, moaning wildly, moving here stretched out tongue from one corner of her mouth to the other, overwhelmed by the service provided between her legs, and the continuing view of men slowly and helplessly hanged to their unlucky death, bought violently to ejaculation, one time in their lives against their will, what a lesson!
As much joy this scene is providing for our lady, the fourth one seeing all the lifeless bodies next to him, having the strong smell of death in his nose, knowing he's definitly going to following them now is about to panic. The young woman, has to drag him under the beam, continuedly hitting him with the rod, beating him up the stool, tossing him down from behind, while still standing on her stool, hooking herself on his body and pulling him down, so the snapping of his neck can distinctively be heard by all in the room. But she has her hand on his cock, being enough to have his involuntary insemination inside the rubber cloth.
Left number five, who is trembling beneath the skirt, of the mistress he is serving bravely. He never stopped to sob. But the lady still hasn't finished so far.
“We can't hang him now..., i need him to fulfil his task” she sighs, “may i ask you to just sling him the rope around the neck, and strangle him using your bar.
We'll save time doing so, and he definitely will do a good job this way... After having been such a disappointment up to now.
The guy wants to flee. But the young mistress has already his head pressing it against the senior one's demanding slit. The rope is quickly wound around his neck, she ties it together over the bar, and starts turning, forcing his tongue out again, forcing him doing his job, while still breathing rantingly. His body loose all balances, his feet urge to kick, his tied hands trying to get free. But the young one holds him in position, pushing the bar forth and forth, eventually cutting his breath, making his tongue work by itself, controlling his twitching muscles under her.
Then he finally goes limb, but late enough for his mistress to relax together with him, he slides down lifelessly, the tongue protruding from his mouth, the back of the head hitting ground, lies there motionless, garotted slowly to his death.
“The best you can get out of men! And you just skipped it...!” the older sister sighs ,,But you really did it all quite smooth, darling!”
“Thank you mistress!”

New World Order (2/3)

The mistress, who sat there watching quietly so far, finally interrupts her:
“Be calm darling... Remember, you only get smoothness, if you create it yourself first. Give the young lad some time...
This is still a lesson after all...!”
“I apologize, mistress... I just wanted to avoid giving them any chance to release their physical aggressiveness...”
“How well I now, darling...! And you're quite right to be aware of that. Nonetheless they are all well cuffed, and accessible to any disciplinary action you choose. So just relax...!”
“Yes mistress...
So handle your shirt first before getting up!” she tells him, trying to keep her patience.
“I... I will...” he responds. And manages to at the end. Now they again all stand there, lined up in front of the desk naked and shivering, trying to hold their sighs, to not raise any more anger of their young instructress, but not managing it all time long, earning dare-you-looks, from her, who herself searches for an opinion in the eyes of her mistress now.
“Just go ahead.... You're doing quite fine so far. Just stay relaxed...!”
So the girls walks forth to the sturdy desk, commanding the first one:
“You! Step forward, and bend over the table!”
The one, a older one, she wonders if he might be even older than thirty, asking herself how he managed to make it up to such an age, allowing herself some slight feelings of respect towards him, as he must have gained quite control over his physical impulse for getting so far. He has put his chest flat on the lacquer surface, awaiting things to follow. She raises the rod meanwhile, leading a key down to his hands, asking herself why not just more men were like this one, which would have rendered things much much smoother. She finds the lock and opens the cuff, ready to strike at any sign of resistance.
“Put your hands on your back... Calmly!” she orders. He does, his knees shivering from such an become uneasy position. She relocks the cuffs in his back, then stepping right behind him, shoving his legs apart with her knee, grabbing one of the plugs placed on the table earlier and drives it up his anus with one continuing move. His body stiffens and he groans. She reaches under his body, to check his penis for erection. Positive, and she sighs, uttering to herself, but so that he can hear it as well:
“Violence and again violence, is that all you guys understand? Don't you have no feelings? No emotions...?”
He doesn't answer. She keeps his erected piece in her hand, grabs a transparent condom from one of her pockets, slips it over with an uneasy feeling.
The next one is younger, probably 22 or 23 but certainly not much older. The procedure she applies is the same, only when reseizing his wrists, she remarks rather fresh vertical scars on them. Must be one of the suicidal ones. Not able to impose it on someone else, turning his aggressiveness against himself. Pitiable creature almost, but only as long one not knows what lies behind such behaviour.
So she proceeds. Meditating on the backgrounds of her work, accompanied by the content moanings of her mistress.
Yes they are pitiable, but at the one hand, they demand severe control by all females to keep up a balanced and peaceful society. It's not that some liberty hasn't been tried. But it had failed. She read all about it in the manuals. And now they had to stick to the more severe kind of tutoring. That being sad somehow, there just was no alternative way.
She finally had reached to the last, the very young one, that was shaking badly.
“Just keep it still!” she says, trying to rather convey a sense of understanding, than to express her continuing impatience with him. But his trembling goes on. She plugs him nonetheless, with quite a violent move, he queecks, his body retracting. But this time the check fails, he is limb like a dried out garden hose. She pulls back for a moment. Reflects about what to do next, tries to get in the plug just a little bit deeper. With him palpitating as only result. Then she tries, to get the rubber on his penis nevertheless, but again to no avail.
Helplessly she turns to her older sister:
“Mistress, this one just doesn't get it...!
How should i proceed?”
Having been watching mutely all time long, she now raises, with a faint smile on her lips, comes up toward her apprentice.
“Darling, you've done such good work so far, but this now is one thing, that makes out a real instructress. This means knowing what you won't find in the textbooks. So i ask you to watch and lean!”
She comes up to the young guy, still bend over the table shivering:
“So our little piggy doesn't get a hard one, hmm?” she ask in an emotion clad way, which even towards youngest instructees is definitley been asked to avoid by the counseling sisters voice. Swiftly she slaps her flat hand on his buttocks, making them wabble, going on stroking over them in continuing circles, shifting forward then, reaching his piece and professionally and caring it once, pulling his foreskin back from his glans. He sighs softly, having him made aroused enough, she gets over the condom, haven't taken more than 2 minutes all in all.
“See...? They may be mannerless brutes, but a lady's emotional touch always turns out to be more powerful. That's why we are to guide society after all...
You now may raise. “ directed to the donator.
Once again, they're lined up neatly one next to the other, looking shamefully to the ground not to arouse any dismay. They are just one step closer to final treatment.
“Allow me to interfere for one more time, my dear!” the older sister says, getting in posture right before the guys:

New World Order (1/3)

A dark room, clean, windowless and nearly empty, except for six stools, some more chairs and one single slightly more convenient armchair. In one corner, there is a tiny but strong desk. Just under the ceiling a massive beam runs all along from one side of the room to the other.

A thin ray of light cuts into the room as the senior lady is entering, pulling in air, filled with the scent of past fear and exhaustion. She is around 50, and dressed all in black. She presses the air out of here lungs into the void. After her follows a young woman in her mid twenties, also completely in black.

“So let's get ready for the day!” the older lady says. Clapping her hands together, breathing once more heavily. The younger one switches on the light, filling the room with light, reflected by the naked walls.
The girl at once grabs one stool after another, and arranges them just under the beam, until there are 5 pieces put up in a row.
“And don't worry about, what the distinguished ones say. They might convince themselves to despise you, but deep inside they are pretty jealous for you, because they know quite well about the liberty you have inside these walls, my dear... And sooner or later, you will understand that. And you will derive joy out of that, too...!”
“Yes mistress!” she replies, rearranging each of the stools a bit to make their order just a little more perfect, then wiping their surface with her bare hand.
“You really don't have to that. And you are well aware of that, aren't you darling?”
“I just...”
“I ask you to just stop it! Now please...!”
“Yes mistress!”

The girl looks around the room, not quite sure what to do next, but urged to do just something. Meanwhile, the senior lady grabs one of the black latex pinafores, hanging from a hook at the wall, and covers her front with it, wrapping the lashes around her waist and finally fixes them tight in her back.
“The desk! Would you put it near the door? That's where we'll need it after all.”
The apprentice doesn't reply this time, instead hurries to follow the request, while the lady slips her left hand into a latex glove, and unrolls it up her arm.
“Probably a little bit farther from the door, so our clients fit in between door and desk.” alongside covering her right arm.
“Please put the plugs on the surface now, and then make sure you get dressed in time.”
The lady looks through the room, inspecting the put up scenery, gets a rather satisfied look, then moves forward and drags the sturdy armchair, closer to the beam and sinking into the soft cushion, stretching her legs, taking one more deep breath, whereas the girl now gets into her pinafore.
“Why not get some pleasure from one of our donators today...? Would make you more relaxed...
I can tell you that!”
“I don't know...” the girls responds hesitatingly,
“I just don't want to get it unsmooth today. Since i've never carried it out all on my own so far...”
“Just you don't you worry so much, darling! I will be here all the time...!”
“I'd rather just not... If mistress isn't displeased by that.”
“See! it's not that I am asking you to... It's just what i suggest you from my emotional point of view. I want you to carry it out just as smooth and elegant, as you want to, precious...!”
The girl is ready now too, both ladies' bodies, young and experienced, shimmer from the pale light on their .
“How you just look gorgeous, my dear. Fits you really well that one! And you'll make quite an impression on the donators too...!”
“Do you really feel that way?” the young one asks shyly.
“Certainly...! But now don't forget our tools of work!”
“Yes mistress!” the apprentice responds, grabs a red bag, she put under the table earlier, and gets out cords and shiny s-shaped hooks, counts 5 each, and puts the rest back into bag. Walks towards the stools, steps on the first one, reaches up and attaches one hook to a small iron loop in the beam, all under the eyes of her experienced sister. She continues with the four being left. After having accomplished that, squatting next to her mistress, starting to tie nooses out of the plain cloth.
“So you really never entered one between your legs...?”
“N...no...
Isn't it thought to be disgraceful in the opinion of our counselling sisters after all...? And aren't there to learn strict lessons for such things? I didn't wont to learn a lesson because of that, because of men...! I want to serve our society, i want to discipline men rather then obtain unsmooth pleasures from them...!”
“My dear, i am certain one day you will realize, that opinions expressed by the counselling sisters are one thing, undoubtedly a precious guideline for our society, but as long as you don't hurt any feelings..., its just fine...! And the sisters' perception doesn't reach inside these walls...
“I see, mistr...” she's interrupted by a loud knocking noise against the door, echoing in the wide empty room.
“I beg you” the lady calls out, the door opens and in steps a skirt uniformed guard:
“I am bringing you the dicks!” she calls, “five pieces of muscular horny dicks, ready to learn their final lesson!”
“So I beg you to enter them...” the lady voices in an official melody.
The guard leaves the room again, her instructions dimmed by massive walls and door:
“So you want to-be-rapist pricks. It's your mistresses waiting inside, ready to tell you a final lesson. So move right in, predatory scum!”
Thus hesitantly entering five young men, between 20 and 30 years of age. Looking uncertainly around in the room, their eyes quickly hooked by the view of the beam, letting them positively know, which kind of lesson awaits them.
The guard steps in behind, shoving her boots to form an open triangle on the floor.
“I could stay... Just in case atmosphere might drop. I could shoot them in the belly, in case they turn unease, or even aggressive.”
Heavy respiring from the five men, finally wholly realising their fate.
“I appreciate your concern,” the mistress states, “but my apprentice and me are quite at ease about handling a pack of dick driven guys...
“See...,” she whispers to her disciple, “everyone goes for it, dear...!
I ask you to leave now...” towards the guard.
“Thank you! And i wish you a smooth lesson...” off.

The older sister, arranges hair armchair in a way, she can better see the group of men, wearing simple but clean grey shorts and thin shirts of the same colour. Their hands are cuffed in front of their bodies.
“It's up to you now, darling” the experienced one whistles. The younger sister instantly gains posture, pulls a shiny rounded aluminium rod from her belt then commands:
“Undress! At once!” her words impact on the males and one after another pulls his pants down, following with their shirts, what poses some difficulties for them, since cuffed, but they manage it, as already used to such introductions to up following lessons, baring their bodies, their penises and their marks received from former physical education, obviously having been without satisfying effects. Only one of them doesn't get it straight, catches himself in the shirt with his head, pulling and at once trying not to loose balance.
“What are you waiting for, prick!” the girl shouts to him. “Is violation on your mind keeping you from doing what you've been asked...?”
“No mistress... Please just a mo...ughh...!” the instant blow he receives from her rod, interrupts him, bringing him down easily and he lands very uneasy.
“Get up, scum...!” she yells at him, none of the other males looking over to them, well aware to not be intercepted by her fierce regard, “Not enough energy for discipline? Uncontrolled aggression is all what your kind is capable of....!
Get up already...!” she screams...
“At once...” he tries to obey, but still doesn't manage it, his head and hands wrangled together, covered by the shirt. She raises the rod, ready to bring it down on him...

My Landlady!

She is certainly around her fifties but somehow preserved a youthlike appearance. She has dark hair reaching her shoulders. Her look is at once warm and frightenly deep. The one thing i remarke about her at once are the shoe liners rendering her toes, promissing she would slip her feet into soft ballerinas.
She is engaging into a talk with me, telling me about herself and her life, about her writing poetry and stuff...
But i lack any attention for her talk as my look wanders from from the soft cloth covering the shape of her feet into the bottomless depth of her eyes and back.
Anoyed by such disrespect, she decides to take severe measures against my behavior.

Eventually she slips into her shoes, drags me out on open land to a deserted sanctuary. She strips me naked there. Slings a rope over the beam of the entrance gate, all silent without any word. she strings me up from that beam naked, making me dance.
And a goup of schoolgirls passing stop by to giggle over my involuntary erection.
She leaves me there, strung up and motionless, returning home in silence, writing down a poem on justice served, saving my existence through the means of her words, having given it a meaning at last...