Chapter 11

Though Zeeta could have had the shuttle ferry her and the brigade of dominant militia closer to where it was believed Rosseena and the stockade inhabitants would be, and where the band of feminine rebels who were the defiant remnants of the two houses were bound to follow, she considered it more sporting to pursue their prey on foot; the welfare of the Stockade people of little significance to her, the thrill of the chase of more importance, though Skara and Avra may have had different ideas, they would not question Zeeta’s methods. This made Veen’s progress all the more difficult, being held strictly to the etiquette of only being allowed to travel on all whipped fours when in the company of his feminine superiors, a pleasing aside for Zeeta, Arna, and not least, his Mistress - each enjoying having a male to taunt when his pained progress inevitably slowed them - the whips of each used in leisurely fashion whenever necessary.

Veen was therefore glad that the terrain was at least soft on him; green grassy hillocks interspersed with sandy dunes, the latter increasing as they neared the coast on what was known as Cape Venus. They stopped atop one of the last elevated hillocks, taking advantage of its altitude, to view the sweeping terrain which they’d face on descending, and scan the landscape for any possible sign of either faction. From here, with the aid of electro-binoculars, a guard gave a grin of delight and alerted Zeeta.

“The remnants of Blackhall and Gelding House ... heading toward the Gallows peninsula.” Whilst Zeeta had a look for herself, Arna grinned at Veen, having seen his ears prick up at the name.

“Yes, Gallows peninsula, it’s a broad penis shaped promontory named in honour of the male crew of a freighter, shot down by those citadel bitches, whilst on its way past Vulvador from Preen...” She grinned wistfully as she recalled a sordid element of recent history that so obviously aroused her, deftly rubbing herself as she continued.

“They were all hunted down, stripped naked and whipped for pleasure by the women, then hanged on gallows purposely built and hastily erected by the women’s eunuch slaves, who were rewarded with beheading when the task was completed...” Veen boned to an erection at her obvious sexual pleasure in relating the tale, and as she sniffed at the wafting sea air whilst they descended a sandy bank getting ever nearer to that very place, Skara interjected with a smug smile.

“One of the women of the stockade, who’s being pursued by the Citadel rebels, is a friend of mine, Rosseena ... she witnessed the event when a young woman...” Arna gasped with obvious envy and excitement.

“Never ... surely she made it up?” Skara smirked at her.

“Oh it’s perfectly true young lady, she’d been out on a venture for a week or so, collecting shellfish, and had a camp in the dunes to the south of where the freighter went down, and saw the males brought back and a long gallows erected from the beams of an old log cabin overnight ... she couldn’t sleep for the sound of whips being used on those eunuchs, and remembers vividly their reward of being beheaded at dawn on the platform of the gallows they’d constructed...” Varnella now showed her enthusiasm for the conversation, nicely aroused by the thought of mass masculine suffering.

“I can see why that will have made an indelible mark on her mind, I’ll bet it thrilled her ... I know I’d have been.” Veen’s cock pulsed rigid at her spiteful smirk at him, as she imagined the scene with erotic pleasure ... possibly transporting him to those gallows. Skara saw the perverse pleasure in all their eyes as she continued.

“ ... she said that were as nothing compared to the fate of the freighter’s male crew, having been hunted down from the crash site ... their ship, which has long been dismantled, was virtually intact, so there were no impact casualties, but so fearful were they of the ruthlessness of the women of Vulvador, that several of its crew committed suicide rather than be captured ... they were the wise ones...” Arna sighed, her eyes now firmly on the hazy horizon where the gallows were located, her step increasing awkwardly as she played her fingers across the slot of her cunt, longing to see what remained of those gallows. Veen stumbled along, now anxious to keep up, his mistress glad of the increase in pace, sneering on seeing it cause Veen difficulty. Skara saw that she now had a captive audience of enthralled listeners, equally aroused at what Rosseena witnessed next.

“She saw the defeated males stripped naked, and bound head to toe they were lashed to poles facing the gallows, and whipped close to death ... close, but not so as they would escape the pleasure of hanging ... now rendered physically helpless by the cuts of the whip, the first four were dragged up the platform by their female vanquishers and noosed while the next four were lashed to the poles...” Arna sighed with a wistful longing as she squeezed at the nub of her clitoris, almost falling to her knees on the soft sandy terrain in her haste.

“Ohhh ... I so wish I could have seen that.” The more mature women grinned at her youthful eagerness to state what they all thought, but needed not say, Skara then teasing her further with Rosseena’s description of her sado-erotic experience.

“ ... the first four were duly hanged, the short drop of course, so that they enjoyed the full benefit of the rope ... and the next four were whipped red raw whilst watching their colleagues struggle toward the bliss of eternal peace ... the next four, and there were 24 in all, writhed in torment within full view of proceedings, bound naked in defeat to womanhood, those women thoroughly enjoying having them witness what awaited them...” Varnella sighed lustily and sneered down at Veen, keeping his cock up hard; he knew he’d be licking her arsehole after a good caning that night ... and her arsehole would be highly savoury after the day’s exertions. Skara noted the visual communication, and ensured his tongue would indeed go deep that night.

“ ... having been whipped close to death, then hanged slowly, the wretches were granted a final pleasure before death ... albeit a humiliating pleasure ... each were milked as they hanged, and each and every one gave up their cream plentifully ... giving a little justice to their fate - their masculinity, crime enough to warrant their deaths, their seed surrendered in tribute to the superior gender, before their lives too, were surrendered...” Arna swallowed hard, and recouped her senses, having virtually come at the graphic description.

“And Rosseena ... she witnessed the whole thing?” Skara smiled at her envious eyes.

“Oh yes, she witnessed everything from her hiding place up in the dunes, and though she didn’t exactly agree with the wasting of healthy un-castrated males who could have been put to good use, she admitted to having masturbated on witnessing their fate ... and no doubt masturbates to this day, on occasion, so erotic was the spiteful pageant.” The women smiled as they digested their own erotic thoughts on the spectacle, laughing as a flushed Varnella flicked Veen’s poking backside with her cane.

“Hurry up you cur! ... I’m eager to see the spot where this happened.” Veen’s progress was prompted, having him scamper on all fours to crest the next grassy dune ... then what he saw next had him stop and gasp. In the furrow of the next dune, were two thickly furred rodent-like animals, involved in the procreation of even more. Skara simply grinned and carried on walking, obviously familiar and indifferent to the species, her intrusion seeing them break their lusty bond and disappear into the grass. She looked a little bemused at Veen’s amazement.

“Oh yes, those are all over the place in this area now ... they were the cargo of that freighter, that say the fur is highly prized amongst the more primitive civilisations ... they’ve spread like wildfire here, the climate suiting them, and few predators, the stockade people have thousands of the pelts, but they just keep multiplying...” Varnella had also stopped stock still on seeing Veen do likewise, for once having wealth rather than sex to the fore of her mind. She tugged his leash.

“Are those ... those things, what you set out from Thuros for?...” Veen was dumbstruck, Thurian Dollar signs almost visible on his eyes, unable to get it out.

“S ... Sea ... Seam...” Skara interjected, nonchalantly, indifferent to the fact that just 500 or so pelts could buy Veen a ship the size of the Atalanta, where he came from.

“Seamonk! ... yes, that’s what they’re called...” She grinned wickedly.

“ ... I’ve had sex in a bed lined with their fur, being told it exudes a natural aphrodisiac, and was sceptical ... but after achieving a most satisfactory climax, I have some on a bed at home ... the scent is why the little perverts are always fucking each other ... and why this area is overrun!”

Rosseena had taken great delight in relating the same account of the sadistically erotic spectacle to Trellis, and though they knew that Margo and the remainder of the combined legion of outcast warrior women from Blackhall and Gelding House could not be far behind them, she couldn’t resist pausing for a moment at the bleak monument that gave the promontory its name. Trellis gasped on seeing that the gallows still stood, and though a little twisted and weather-beaten by the see air, he erected longingly on noting that it would still serve its purpose most adequately, even after all these years, given fresh ropes to grace its withered but still sturdy beams.

Rosseena’s cunt tingled as her memory placed those males under that beam, their milking on the ropes awarding her an orgasm of magnificent magnitude. All but one of the nooses had disappeared, consumed by the elements, the single noose farthest to the gallows landward end, green with mosses, and hanging stiff in defiance of those elements, to remind casual onlookers of the structure’s sordid purpose. Sha glanced up at the dunes, with a wonderment at just how daring she’d been, their proximity so close to the danger of her being caught by the leather clad women so enjoying the torture and execution of those hapless males. One of the other women urged her on.

“Come Rosseena, we must make haste, if we’re to reach those boats at the headland, and leave the rebels stranded and an easy target for Zeeta’s army.” The plan had been talked over many times, and relied on the boats actually being there, and sufficient to carry all of their number, though too many boats would mean they’d need make the surplus boats un-seaworthy, in order to leave the citadel women stranded. Rosseena smiled curtly at Trellis as he took one last long look at the gallows, his imagination going to those many final milkings that took place. She laughed at him, but spoke with an air of sincerity ... almost pleasure.

“Just think, if we’re caught, you may be brought back here to be made an example of ... and enjoy the thrill that those males knew.” Trellis gasped, and staggered forward as she tugged his makeshift leash, there to distinguish him from the few eunuchs who’d been brought along; the mark of enslavement there more as a token to humble him, as every woman there knew Trellis was intact ... and most had sampled the ease with which he surrendered his seed in submission.

Rosseena and the stockade women quickly found the path which led through the crest of dunes, down toward where the small skiffs would be, some of those women more than familiar with the site. As they ventured on, the cowardly Trellis was glad to find they were slowly being immersed in the cover of a sea mist, making their detection even harder. Though a little chilly on their skin, it was welcomed, though made the situation somewhat eerie, and this wasn’t helped by the plethora of seamonks, breaking cover suddenly as the steps of the intruders closed in on their chosen haven. The multitude of the sweet smelling fur clad beasts, had the scent of that fur permeate the air in the stillness of the troughs between the dunes, bringing giggles from the women, and a broad smile from Rosseena, her cunt tingling like theirs, as they took in the aphrodisiacal scent. Trellis too, found his cock pulsing erect, memories of shooting his load while being caned by Rosseena on that bed in the stockade, brought to the fore by that lushly erotic aroma. and not helped by that very woman’s lusting eyes.

“Remind me to bring you back here when things have returned to normal, or whatever passes for normal when Zeeta’s iron clitoris has been imposed in full upon this planet ... I want to whip you, then sit on your face in the shadow of those gallows ... I promise you a milking such as you’ve never had before ... A giggling colleague to her arm, and pulsed her up the side of the dune a few steps, to clearer air, Rosseena smirking as the salty mist brought her out of a near trance. Her colleague grinned at her as Trellis showed his reluctance to surface, now longing to masturbate there and then. Her colleague obliged Rosseena by slapping his face hard, the task a pleasure to her, before smiling at Rosseena.

“You nearly lost it there ... we need be vigilant till we get to those boats, keep our task in mind and get there before we all find ourselves on our backs and enjoying an orgasm.” Rosseena swooned as she took in the fresh air, and saw other smiling women helped up, in a state of blissful intoxication.

“Yes, and let’s hope that the seamonk have time to return to their spots, and permeate some more before the Citadel women come through...” She grinned wickedly as she thought of those leather clad bitches.