He is Your Master Now Pt. 03

There was a different flavor to this humiliation. It was as if there had been no expectation that he possessed even an average sized penis. He couldn't shake the feeling in his mind that from here on out, he would never again be able to count on the illusion of appearing normally endowed when clothed, regardless of how confident and cocksure he presented himself.

His virile masculinity would never be in question because it would always be assumed, with a certainty, that he lacked such a quality.

Ambrose began to shake in anguish as he sensed tears welling up. One of the women moved to the edge of her seat and watched him with rapt, attention, fascinated at the pending destruction of his ego. There were no clear thoughts in his head, only despair.

He dropped onto his knees before they could buckle, used his hands to press his face against the floor, and sobbed mournfully. He tried to stifle the evidence of his own wretchedness, but all that did was set the women to share belittling remarks among themselves, as if taunting him directly was beneath them.

On some level, he was aware that he was in a doggystyle position of sorts. He was also vaguely aware of a subtle trickle of neural electricity connecting his raised and exposed anus to his belly, nipples and those parts of the brain where pleasure and shame were processed.

Like a man easing away from a predator rather than risk triggering an attack by succumbing to the flight instinct, he did nothing to fight this feeling out of the fear that it might suddenly freeze him with a roar while leaping to devour him.

"Ambrose."

He looked up at Cassilda with tears streaming down his face and saw coldness and contempt in her face.

"Crawl over to me." It was a bewitchment order.

He wouldn't fight this request even if he could. In fact, he felt the need to drag out his degradation for her enjoyment. With each squirming, slithering inch, his sense of shame, worthlessness and despair increased exponentially even while his need to please her kept pace. He was like a magnet possessing two opposing forces while each gained in strength.

By the time he reached the dais and her feet, he would have gladly allowed her to snuff out his life as he were a cockroach, not to end his misery, but because it would please her to do so.

She shifted to the edge of her chair, lifted her robe to reveal her naked cunt and inserted her index finger, making a great show of wriggling it around exaggeratingly.

"Open your mouth." She said to Ambrose.

She pulled out her finger; it was dripping with her juices. She leaned down and extended it toward him. The sex/death smell was so strong that Ambrose, against his better judgment, seized her hand and placed the finger in his mouth. He sucked on it desperately going so far as to try to tease whatever scant juices might be under the fingernail.

For the first time in nearly two weeks, his penis hardened.

Cassilda sensed that he was already too quickly near to ejaculating and pulled her finger away from him. "You aren't allowed to cum until I say so. Do you understand?"

Ambrose nodded blankly.

"Now, I'm sure your dying to see our beautiful Andrea in all her naked glory." then to Andrea. "Andrea, come here and present yourself to Ambrose." Cassilda looked at Ambrose and with a nod, indicated that he was allowed to turn and look at Andrea as she came forward.

Andrea had a slim, shapely body with tiny, almost non-existent breasts. All in all, he found her quite fetching. But he soon suffered some intense but momentary confusion at the sight of what he mistook for a rather massive clitoris, but when Andrea had gotten close enough, he saw that it was in fact a penis. A penis even smaller than his own resting above a delicately pink scrotum.

Seeing an actual transgender person, naked, live and breathing in front of him, however, threw his mind into paroxysms of confusion as he struggled to reconcile Andrea's feminine desirability with her actual gender.

With his virility, such as it was, restored, he felt emboldened enough to whirled back around to face Cassilda. It was a ploy committed in vain with the hope that he could unmoor the burgeoning desire for Andrea that was slowly battering its way past his inhibitions.

"Are you expecting me to have sex with a-- shemale-- a tranny?" He tried to sound outraged but was unconvincing.

"The correct term is 'transgendered woman', or 'trans-woman' for short. Or you can just say 'trans' and the rest of us should be able to figure it out. But no. Andrea is not trans. She's a crossdresser. There's a difference."

"OK, so he's a fucking faggot--"

"Don't ever let me hear you say that word in anger again. Do you understand?"

Whatever faux outrage Ambrose was trying to work up fully evaporated. He nodded his understanding.

Cassilda sat for the next few seconds as if considering her next words.

"You know Ambrose," she began, "by now, I'd have expected you to be very careful in how you behave and what you say around me. By now, I'd have expected you to understand that your behavior dictates where I take this relationship of ours. By now, I'd have expected you to just trust in me and allow me to gift you the greatest lifestyle you never even imagined possible."

Then slightly louder, "Oh, Ambrose. Ambrose, Ambrose, Ambrose. What am I going to do with you Ambrose? Seriously."

Cassilda forced herself to relax and smile. "I had plans for you over the next few days. Now I'll have to change them." She then added ominously, "I always have contingency plans Ambrose."

Ambrose threw himself at her feet in despair. "Please, Cassilda. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

It was all he could say over and over again as if stuck in a glitch.

Cassilda's robe was still folded up on her lap. She widened her legs.

"Feed."

Ambrose launched forward as if loaded on a spring suddenly released. The necrotic flesh smell was stronger than he had previously experienced, as was the peculiar sex pheromone Cassilda released.

Each lick and slurp heightened his arousal to levels he had never experienced before with Cassilda, much less anyone else. Soon he became aware of an intense pain in his groin. He desperately needed to cum but Cassilda's bewitchment against ejaculation held him firm.

Cassilda pushed herself away from the edge of her seat and with a foot, pushed Ambrose away from her. The pressure was too much for Ambrose, he rolled up into a fetal position, shut his eyes against it and was about to scream.

"Ladies," Cassilda addressed the women, "quickly! Disrobe and lay your hands on him." Then to the maid, "Andrea, finish him."

Ambrose opened his eyes and turned onto his back as twenty-four sets of hands touched him. He felt a bizarre feedback loop of sexual energy. They fed off of his lust, and he in return fed off theirs. He was experiencing a form of sexual intercourse that normal sex, even at its best, only hinted at. It was a direct injection that passed the mechanics of the physical body and flooded directly into his that part of the mind were sensuousness co-existed with the sense of self.

Andrea sunk to her knees and took his small penis in her mouth but did nothing further.

"Ambrose," said Cassilda, "you may cum."

And that was all it took.

Two weeks worth of pent up frustration amplified by Ambrose' connective contact with the women shot into Andrea's mouth in the form of semen at a force and volume she was unable to accommodate. She tried her best to contain his semen in her mouth but much of it spilled back on to him and the floor. She did her best to lap up as much of this spilled seed as well.

He was still spasming when Andrea leaned over to the woman closest to her and deposited Ambrose' semen in the woman's mouth, retaining a small amount for herself, which she swallowed. And on it went from one woman to the next until all had fed from his seed.

When he looked at the twelve women and Andrea, they were all huddled together naked and writhing as if they were a single mass.

In a daze, he turned his head toward Cassilda, she was staring at the door through which he had entered just minutes before; he heard the door opening and turned to face it.

***** To Be Continued *****