Aunt Phoebe's Masturbatorium Ch. 04

"I had a nightmare actually. It was very disturbing."

"What was it about?" she asked.

As I poured myself a glass of orange juice, I debated whether or not I wanted to reveal the part about my journey into the Masturbatorium with Yvette and decided against it. The dream, or vision, as Yvette had called it, was still too real to me, and for some reason I could not fully explain, I felt reluctant to share it with anyone. It was something I could not understand logically: it was more of an intuition, a sense that, for the time being, it was in my best interests to keep the startling revelation secret, as much as it killed me to do so.

"Well," I began, "I got lost in the forest and had to sleep there overnight. Then I heard some poachers come by and they were shot with some arrows or something and were taken away by a bunch of men dressed in strange outfits. It was all very weird."

My aunt laughed. "You dreamt that because we were talking about poachers last night."

"That's right," Lenore confirmed. "Your aunt has had problems with those awful men every now and then."

"But my daughter found a way to deal with it," my aunt beamed. "Instead of involving the local police, who are entirely inept at tracking these criminals, Angelique recommended that we use some of the men we already have under our employ. Men who know this countryside and the habits of the poachers very well. Now the animals are safer and we get to see these poachers punished."

"Who are these men?" I asked.

"You met one of them the other day."

"I did?" I asked again, looking at my aunt and then at Lenore.

"Yes, you did. His name is Jacques, my foreman."

"How did you know that?"

"Well, I do talk to my employees now and then, Holly," she said tersely. "And there isn't much that gets by me around here."

It seemed to me that Angelique's suggestion to organize the vineyard's laborers into a makeshift police force had been made to seem as if it were of greater importance than it really was, and my aunt made no attempt to conceal her satisfaction in parading my cousin's stellar achievement before me in such a way that would seem to belittle me in Lenore's eyes. I don't think the Sisterhood leader regarded the incident as one that would tip the balance in favor of my cousin, but she smiled at my aunt nonetheless while she stuffed a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

"Where is Angelique?" I inquired of my aunt.

"She had Jake drive her into Paris very early this morning. She was going to meet some friends for breakfast and then pick up her dress. You do know that we are having dinner tonight at the Le Boeuf sur le Toit?"

Suddenly my thoughts turned to the handsome Swedish boy Craig and what dress I was going to wear.

"Yes, I know. I'm looking forward to seeing Dr. Swensen again."

"Speaking of her, I received a phone call from her secretary this morning. It seems that she and Dr. Hellstrom had to return to Stockholm immediately. She didn't say why. It's a shame too. I really wanted to talk to her about her research."

"Oh," I said, feeling somewhat disappointed. "Do you know if Craig and Barney are leaving too?"

"No, they are going to remain with us for a little while," Lenore said, smiling as she saw my eyes light up. "You like that blonde boy, don't you?"

"He's very handsome," I replied.

"And he enjoys being controlled by a woman."

"So does the big guy," my aunt said. "I think they'll perform well in the 'Long Shots' contest—if they can adapt to our method of training."

Lenore looked at her watch. "Which reminds me, we have a disciplinary session in Training Room 1 in about an hour."

"Go ahead if you want," my aunt advised. "I'll meet you in about twenty minutes. Angelique knows to meet us there and I want you there too, Holly."

"Why do I have to go?"

"We want you to see how we deal with insubordination," Lenore said firmly. "You can regard it as part of your training."

Having just awoken from a bad dream in which punishment had taken on a major role, I was not happy to have this sprung upon me, and especially without any prior notice. I was certain my aunt could read the displeasure in my face.

"You could have told me, aunt Phoebe. I had other things planned for today."

My aunt slowly raised her eyes up off her plate.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to, Holly. I can't force you. But if you expect to be part of this organization, you must be willing to make sacrifices. If you find that you cannot fulfill your obligations, then..."

"It's all right, Phoebe," Lenore cut in. "I'm sure Holly wants to do whatever is good for the Sisterhood. Isn't that right, Holly?"

Lenore looked at me in a most motherly fashion, making me feel guilty for even entertaining the idea that I should forego the event to pursue my own selfish needs.

"If it's that important to you."

"It is," my aunt said, giving me an uncommonly stern look. "And it's important for you as well. Meet us there in one hour."

I left the room without another word to either of them. I did not appreciate the fact that I had not been informed about this "disciplinary session," nor was I pleased at my aunt's dictatorial attitude toward me, or the way she played up Angelique's suggestion as if to humble me before Lenore. I regarded it as a flimsy attempt to earn her daughter a few extra points in Lenore's eyes, and I felt it unworthy of my aunt to act so callously.

As I walked out of the kitchen I realized that I hadn't eaten any of my breakfast, but now I didn't care because I was feeling anger in my stomach and to eat would only make me sick. I decided to walk outside onto the lawn and sit by myself on one of the lounge chairs to consider what had just transpired, but I could not get rid of my negative thoughts.

I laid down on the chair and let the warmth of the sun and the soothing, exotic scents of the flowers have their way with me. In such a pastoral environment I could not stay miserable for too long, and I soon felt my anger assuaged by the thought that I had not been told about this "session" because it was probably some kind of test they were going to put me through. A test of what, though? Loyalty? Obedience? These traits were high on the list of qualities a Sisterhood initiate should possess, but maybe I fell short somehow? I had always wondered why Lenore had chosen me to be her successor when I had done barely anything to prove my worth or ability to her or the other Sisters except to invoke some sense of sentimentality in the Sisterhood leader. Maybe now was the time for me to prove myself to them. Maybe that's why Lenore and my aunt were so insistent that I attend. After all, Lenore did say that it was a part of my "training."

I decided to call my parents and say hello. It had been several days since we last spoke and I was beginning to experience a little separation anxiety. The first thing my mother did when she picked up the phone was to inquire whether or not my aunt Phoebe was forcing me to partake in any of her crazy jaunts, as she put it. I assured her that I was being treated perfectly fine and that there was no need to worry that I would succumb to my aunt's questionable lifestyle. Having promised to keep all knowledge of the Sisterhood secret, I could not discuss my recent sojourn into the Masturbatorium, or the disturbing nightmare I had experienced, although I was severely tempted to violate that injunction more than once during our conversation. We spoke for about ten minutes, and once she was assured that I was indeed doing fine, we said goodbye. I asked to her to give a kiss to my dad for me and then hung up the phone feeling a little better that I had talked to her.

The combination of the warm, pleasant air and the welcome fragrance of the flowers had a soothing effect upon me, and I soon closed my eyes. I began to wonder what my Sisterhood leaders were going to do in Training Room 1, and who exactly was going to be the object of their displeasure.

Every so often my thoughts would wander into the nightmare world Yvette had shown me, and what cryptic, internal thought mechanisms had brought forth such imagery out of my subconscious. And what was that thing that I saw thrashing back and forth in a maddening frenzy just before I woke up? That nondescript but uncompromisingly evil apparition left an indelible impression upon my mind, and the strange feeling of familiarity that I felt toward it troubled me greatly.

"Hey lazy bones! Wake up!"

I opened my eyes to see Angelique staring into my face.

"Oh, shit! I said, rising from my chair. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes, you did!" she laughed. "We're supposed to meet mom in the Training Room remember? Come on, we're late."

She was wearing a very short pink dress and matching pink shoes, a white and pink checkerboard-style blouse, a wide-brimmed sunhat, and sunglasses. The two-inch heels on her shoes made her legs look even longer than they normally did. I surmised that the event about to take place was what might have prompted her to accentuate her already impressive limbs for the sake of whatever males there might be in attendance. Her hair, perfectly straight and hanging all the way down to her waist, glimmered like a shield of bronze across her backside. I had never seen her look more stunning.

"You hit one of the salons didn't you?" I asked, as we both made a hurried entrance into the house.

"Got my nails and toenails done too," she said, waving her newly manicured hand in front of my face. "Wait until you see my new dress!"

I smiled at her but felt no inclination to discuss her latest purchase. I was too worried about what was awaiting me in the Training Room.

"Do you know what's going on with this disciplinary thing?"

"Some kind of test Lenore likes to pull on us every now and then. Don't worry about it. Just be yourself and you'll be fine."

"You don't seem to concerned about it."

"I'm not."

Training Room 1 was located on the third level of the Masturbatorium—a floor I had yet to see. Angelique chuckled at my surprised expression when the elevator door opened and we found ourselves in a very large, circular room containing a long, oval table around which dozens of women sat. A series of doors flanked the walls on either side, some of which were open to reveal the kind of medical equipment one might find in a doctor's office. All of the women were impeccably attired in sleek business suits and seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion. Upon seeing us, the conversation stopped immediately, and we were greeted with harsh stares. Lenore sat at the head of the table with my aunt Phoebe seated to her immediate right, and Justine and Estelle on Lenore's left. Some of the other women I recognized from previous encounters, others I had never seen before. My cousin and I halted in front of Lenore, who was visibly annoyed by our late arrival.

"You girls should know better than to show up at this time," the Sisterhood leader said to us as she glanced down at her watch. "You're ten minutes late."

"Ten minutes and 33 seconds, actually," Justine chimed in.

"I'm sorry," I said looking around at all the stern faces around me. "I fell asleep out on the patio."

Some of the women grumbled at my explanation, while others merely chuckled. Neither my aunt nor Lenore looked amused.

"I got back as fast as I could, mom," Angelique said in her best apologetic voice.

"I'm not interested in excuses!" Lenore suddenly blurted out. "The both of you have to learn to be responsible. But in the interests of saving time, I will forego any punishment—this time. Now go and sit down over there and listen carefully to what I have to say."

She indicated that we sit on two empty chairs at the back of the room adjacent to one of the open doors. I felt all eyes upon me as my cousin and I made our way around the crowd of women, feeling as though I had committed some heinous crime by being tardy. Angelique seemed undisturbed by Lenore's little tirade, but I felt a twinge of disappointment at seeming, once again, at a distinct disadvantage in the older woman's eyes. We both sat down and tried to look repentant.

"Now the two of you sit there and be quiet," Lenore said gruffly. "For the moment you will observe and say nothing. Am I understood?"

Both Angelique and I shook our heads in acknowledgment.

Lenore turned to Estelle. "All right. Let's get on with it. What's the first order of business today?"

"There is a discipline problem with one of sister Phoebe's new servants," Estelle began, looking down at a pile of papers in front of her. "He refuses to offer a sperm sample for the medical exam all the servants are required to take each year."

"Refusal is not within his rights as a servant to the Sisterhood," Lenore informed Estelle. "Why is he having this problem?"

"It seems," Estelle began, "that he feels it's degrading for him to ejaculate into a cup with a doctor and nurse standing by."

"Indeed," Lenore replied somewhat bemused. "This is our standard procedure and has been for years. The doctor must be present to ensure the pristine quality of the sample. That was explained to him, was it not?"

"Yes, but he can't seem to get over his shyness."

"But his shyness didn't prevent him from telling Dr. Monroe to go fuck herself. Is that not what he said?"

"He did say that, yes."

Lenore turned to my aunt. "Well, it does seem that you have a problem on your hands, Phoebe. Have you given any thought to what might be done to rectify it?"

My aunt stole a glance at Angelique and me. "Yes, I have." She pressed a button on the intercom. "You may come in now, doctor."

In a few moments the door opened and in walked a tall, attractive, red-haired woman who looked to be in her early 30s. She was dressed in a white lab coat and was followed by a young, blonde girl wearing a nurse's outfit. Following them was a tall, good-looking, but rather thin man, perhaps about 20 years old or so, with long brown hair and a neatly trimmed moustache. He was dressed in a hospital gown and was barefoot. He seemed very tense and anxious upon seeing the crowd of women who were now eagerly craning their necks this way and that to get a glimpse of this disobedient upstart. The doctor, nurse, and "patient" were instructed to walk to the end of the room where Angelique and I were sitting. As they passed by us, two of the women in the crowd got up and proceeded to draw back a retractable panel that was connected to the office door nearest me, exposing a smaller area into which the doctor, the nurse, and the patient now entered. The entire room was empty save for a small 12-inch riser upon which the patient was ordered to stand.

"I don't enjoy meting out punishments," Lenore said standing up. "As most of you know, I consider it to be one of the least enjoyable aspects of my work. But disobedience cannot be tolerated." She turned to my aunt. "Phoebe, how are we going to get this man to produce a sperm sample for us?"

"I believe there are two people here right now who can help with this problem," my aunt replied.

"Oh? And who might they be?"

"Angelique and Holly," my aunt replied, looking directly at us.

"Perfect!" Lenore said, smiling at my cousin and I with satisfaction at the premeditated plan. "I leave this man's punishment in your competent hands."

I nearly fell out of my seat when I heard my aunt mention my name. I wasn't prepared to take part in anyone's punishment and didn't have the least idea of how to go about administering it, or to what degree. Angelique saw my trepidation and took my hand and squeezed it reassuringly, wearing a grin on her face that told me she had been through all this before.

"A piece of cake," she said, seemingly non-perturbed by the test we were now about to undertake.

Some of the women in the audience, especially the effervescent Felicia Antonetti and the sultry Janet Walsh, spoke to Angelique and I, wishing us luck. In fact, most of the women appeared very encouraging to us with the exception of a few, most of whom I had never seen before. These few, including the doctor herself, seemed very proud and humorless, and Angelique advised me to ignore their haughty stares and disparaging remarks, spoken amongst themselves in whispers, lest it interfere with my concentrating on the task ahead. My cousin had had limited exposure to these unfriendly women over the course of the past year, and she had nothing good to say about them.

"They're a bunch of jealous bitches," she said, staring straight at the smirking group of self-styled pedigrees. "Especially that one in the middle. She thinks she is the reincarnation of Yvette herself. I hate her guts."

"Yvette?" I asked suddenly.

"Yvette Anjou. You know, our esteemed Sisterhood founder. The one who started this whole thing? She's a distant cousin of my father's, but a real Anjou."

"What's her name?"

"Charlotte," my cousin replied. "That's all you need to know about her."

The woman my cousin described looked eerily familiar to the woman in my vision. She possessed the same penetrating blue eyes—large and liquid and set within an unusually heavy brow and denoting a high level of intelligence, but also a capacity for ruthlessness; high cheekbones; long auburn hair that fell about her shoulders in the most flattering way; an aquiline nose with perfectly symmetric nostrils; and a smile that was at once both charming and disarming. In effect, she was nothing short of beautiful, and like my uncle Pierre, she possessed the same tall, slim stature and forceful nature of all the Anjou line. She was dressed simply in a black skirt and matching blouse, and wore a stunning pearl necklace around her neck. I noticed that her associates seemed to defer to her constantly, as if seeking her approval on every word.

"Doctor Monroe," my aunt said. "Please explain to all the Sisters your recent experience with this man. Keep it short and to the point if you will."

The lovely redhead moved directly in front of the dour-looking patient, who himself had been constantly looking down at the floor without once looking up since taking his place on the platform. She held a clipboard in her left hand that had some papers attached to it, and she quickly glanced at these before speaking.

"The patient's name is

"Please repeat it, doctor," my aunt said.

"He told me to...to go and fuck myself," she answered with some hesitation.

The women began to murmur amongst themselves upon hearing this story, some casting disparaging glances at the patient.

"This man," my aunt began to the crowd, while looking coldly in Mr. Villon's direction, "has not only disobeyed orders, he has insulted one of our Sisters. Is there any doubt in your minds that he should be punished for his behavior?"

The entire entourage exploded as if in one voice, condemning the young man for his actions. He looked like an escaped prisoner who had been caught and was now awaiting sentencing. Angelique looked at the man with obvious distaste, and I could see her mind was working out some fanciful punishment even through her grimace. Her expression sent a cold shiver up my spine.

"Do you know," my aunt said to the cringing young man, "that two kings of France bore the name of Villon? A most noble name, but you...you have degraded it. Look at you! Standing there like a lost puppy! Take off your gown right now or I'll have it ripped from your body!"

The young man hesitated for a moment, but seeing the anger in my aunt's face, and the disapproving looks of all the women in the audience, he slowly untied the knot in the back of his gown that held it in place and let the garment fall halfway down his body, where he gathered the material up into a ball and held it before his crotch.

"Let it drop!" my aunt yelled. "Now!"