He is Your Master Now Pt. 04

Because none of the women wore makeup, he assumed they didn't care about their appearance and so he was surprised to see that her bush was neatly trimmed and that she shaved her legs and underarms. But then he reconsidered that impression; trimmed bushes seemed in keeping with their fastidious, coldly professional appearance and general no-nonsense demeanor.

Seeing her nude it seemed to Ambrose that Governess Bishop was selling herself short with that comment about Ambrose not liking what was coming. He could easily work himself up to enjoying sex with Governess Bishop. He began to imagine a naughty spinster-aunt fantasy, where he still lived with his parents, they had gone to dinner--- or somewhere, leaving he and his visiting, sex starved aunt home alone.

The fantasy was short lived when Governess Bishop pulled on a pair of latex gloves and sat on the commode. For a moment, Ambrose feared she was about to take a shit right there in front of everybody. But when Governess Nurse brought him to her, Governess Bishop grabbed Ambrose and laid him across her lap as if to spank him.

Although it was not what Ambrose had been expecting, he was prepared for many eventualities this evening; a spanking was one of them. He just hadn't envisioned it coming from a Nurse Ratched type. Even more surprising, though embarrassingly so, he began to feel faint stirrings in his cock caused by the warmth of her body and the musculature of her powerful legs.

From behind him he heard the sound of something being wheeled into place and could sense that Governess Bishop was handling something.

Ambrose jerked unexpectedly when Governess Bishop began smearing lubricant onto and into his asshole.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" He couldn't help himself.

WHAP! The sting was so intense that the intense pain took its sweet time making itself known. But when its full impact was finally processed by his brain, his legs writhed in an attempt to ride out the pain. When his sanity had finally returned, Governess Bishop dropped the wooden paddle she had just used on to the floor in view of Ambrose. Judging from the sound it made, not unlike that of a Louisville Slugger, it was a heavy piece of lumber.

Without a word, she continued working the lubrication into his ass wriggling her finger in widening circles, though he could not feel the violation due to the residual pain from the paddling.

After making peace with and accepting the fact that he was trapped in a situation from which he could not extricate himself, his psyche entered a wildly frantic and panicked state as his body rebelled against him.

"Governess Corey," said Governess Bishop, "please note that the subject has achieved a partial erection. Note also that at this point it is undetermined whether it has resulted from manual stimulation of the anus, painful application of a wooden paddle, the inherent humiliation in his predicament or a combination of two of these factors, or perhaps all of them."

Panicked by his own arousal, as well as it now being openly acknowledged, Ambrose struggled too greatly causing Governess Bishop to stop greasing him up long enough to retrieve the paddle. One of the governesses, he couldn't tell who, quickly placed both of her legs on either side of his head and held him in place to keep him from scrambling away. The sensual warmth of her stockinged thighs pressed against the sides of his head merely complicated matters even more.

Again, the intense pain caused to him squirm as all reason fled his mind, leaving only the most basic aspect that processed pain.

After what seemed like several long minutes, his mental faculties were just beginning to crawl back when he heard Governess Bishop speak again.

"Governess Corey, please note that the subject has now achieved a full erection upon being paddled once more, after manual stimulation of his anus."

That was an outrageous lie! He thought--- until the pain cleared enough for him to realize that he did indeed have a full erection.

How much further could he sink? What was it about Cassilda that even when she hadn't used an enchantment, he still felt compelled to put up with--- all of this? It began to dawn on him right there, that it wasn't entirely the sex and yet it was still all about the sex.

Without so much as a warning, Governess Bishop slipped a slim object in his ass. It wasn't completely unexpected considering her use of lube but what was unexpected, was the flood of warm fluid filling his bowels. She was giving him an enema. He was already too despondent to sink any further into abject wretchedness.

"Hold it in," Governess Bishop warned, "because if you get any shit on me, I will force you to eat some of your own excrement."

Even though he doubted that would sit well with Cassilda, he could clearly hear the resolve in her voice.

Once done, she gave him further instructions.

"We're going to stand, you and I, and then you're going to sit on the toilet and hold it in until I tell you to release."

The hard, plastic toilet seat was still too warm from Governess Bishop's body to provide any cooling relief to his stinging buttocks but that was only a peripheral concern given that he was confronted with the prospect of having to take a shit in full view of an audience.

Governess Bishop pulled off her gloves and tossed them into a modern day bio-hazard bin.

A powerful exhaust fan embedded in the ceiling was turned on. While he sat there on the bowl, all four women watched him from across the room.

After a few long discomforting minutes, Governess Bishop instructed him to "Do your business then wash your hands."

"Yes Governess Bishop." He was practically pouting in impotent anger. As if he couldn't feel anymore humiliated, the noises that resulted from his bowel movements seemed amplified.

When he was done, Governess Bishop put on another set of gloves and the process was repeated once more after which, she directed him to step into the tub. She donned a shower cap and joined him. The water was too cold, though it didn't seem to bother Governess Bishop as she began cleaning him methodically both outside and inside. Despite her own nudity, she went about the entire chore with the professionalism of a dog groomer preparing someone's pet. Cassilda's pet.

Governess Bishop hopped out of the shower after soaping up Ambrose one last time. Her rough ministrations guarded against Ambrose getting a hard on and for that he was grateful. She exited the tub ordering him to rinse himself off completely while the other governesses dried her body and helped her dress.

When he was done, he was ushered out of the examination room into the hallway which now seemed relatively warm after his cold shower. He was still dripping wet as he began walking along its length.

Following Governess Bishop's lead, the entire group stopped half-way while she inspected him.

"Governess Corey," she said, "please note that the subject's nipples are erect and that his penis and testicles are in a state if withdrawal and presenting even smaller than usual."

Clearly, her occasional instructions to Governess Corey were intended less to actually note her observations and more to humiliate him.

They walked clear to the other side of the manor on the second floor and again, the interior dimensions made no sense.

Their destination was a luxuriously appointed room made up as a full-service parlor of the type patronized by wealthy women by appointment only.

Governess Bishop turned to him and strongly gripped his shoulder.

"Nothing we're about to do to you in this room will hurt. You have my word on that. I can slap your face hard right now as a reminder of what's in store for you if you resist, or you can give me your word that you won't. Take great care to understand that if you give me your word that you won't resist and go back on it, you won't be able to walk from the paddling you'll receive, and we'll have to start anew on tomorrow.

She shot him a decidedly more serious look.

"Will you give me your word that you won't resist?"

He was almost relieved when he heard she wouldn't hurt him.

"I give you my word."

Panicky, he hastily added "...Governess Bishop."

Governess Bishop stared at him for an uncomfortably long time, as if deciding whether or not he waited too long before using her title and name.

Her hand shot out suddenly toward his face. Ambrose reflexively flinched and closed his eyes.

Governess Bishop lightly pinched his cheek. "There's a good lad. Hop up on that table."

The table was decidedly different than a medical table. It was more like lounge chair crossed with a message table complete with a separate, upholstered oval panel that when removed, comfortably accommodated one's face when laying on one's stomach for a massage.

He complied of course, after which an instrument table was wheeled to his side. There were lotions, a small leather case, a large mug with an old timey kind of brush with a knobby handle, the purpose of which eluded him, and a few things he didn't recognize.

Governess Goode, began rubbing the lotion all over his upper torso. She was even rougher than Governess Bishop. When she was done, Governess Nurse handed her a towel to dry her hands.

Governess Goode then snatched up the small leather case and unzipped it slowly. He was so focused on what it might contain that he could almost feel each zipper tooth as it disconnected from its partner.

It was straight razor with a stag horn handle.

"She's not going to hurt you Mr. Sweet" Governess Bishop reminded him, "but you must still do your part to remain still."

Ambrose took a deep breath.

He had to struggle not to jerk when the bracingly cold razor softly sheered the sparse hairs on his chest as Governess Good slid it with the precision of great practice. He did not expect it to be so cold and reasoned that it must have been kept in freezer for this very effect.

As it warmed to room temperature and he grew accustomed to the process, it seemed that there was almost a sensuality in how Governess Goode went about it. She'd stop here and there to clear the loose hairs with a towel, reapply the shaving lotion and continue on. It was only when she brought it near his nipples that he began to feel squeamish.

Once his chest was shaved, Governess Goode grabbed the mug and began swishing it around in the mug. A thick cream like substance clung to the bristles. It was at that point that he recognized it as a shaving brush as seen in a few old films and historical dramas. She roughly applied the shaving cream to his face.

By that point he was confident that Governess Goode could competently shave his face and was actually grateful as so far, this was the most normal activity he had experienced since arriving at the mansion.

Once done with his shaving, and after she had cleaned all remnants of shaving cream off his face, Governess Gorey handed her electric hair clippers which were already plugged in via a long extension cord. She positioned his nearest arm so that she could get at his under arm. It was quite a struggle for Ambrose to quell the tickle response, but he was able to succeed. As the other underarm followed, Ambrose feared where the clippers might next be applied.

His fears were confirmed when she clipped the hairs of his mons pubis, then his testicles.

His squeamishness returned amplified as she began to apply the lubricant to his mons pubis and retrieved the straight razor. The moment she slid the razor atop the area, stopping just short of his penis, his sense of fear, anxiety and lust formed a lasting knot that would be near impossible to break for the rest of his days when faced with any harm to his genitals.

"Governess Corey," said Governess Bishop, "please note that the subject has achieved arousal while his groin was being shaved with an instrument that could easily make short work of his manhood, such as it is."

He began to dribble pre cum fluid.

"Governess Corey, please note that the subject is releasing pre-ejaculatory fluid. Also note that my previous observation, noted aloud, may be a contributing factor" added Governess Bishop.

Then to Governess Goode, "Be a dear and suppress that please."

Governess Goode set the razor on the utility table, cupped his testicles and squeezed while jamming a sharp thumbnail hard against the base of his penis.

Ambrose suppressed the urge to cry out in pain. He also considered reminding Governess Bishop that she promised he wouldn't be hurt, but he correctly reasoned that she considered this an exception. His small erection quickly waned.

Once Governess Goode was done shaving him, she handed the razor to Governess Nurse, who went to clean it and return it to its case.

Governess Goode then worked the lubricating lotion onto his testicles and produced a modern day five bladed shaver. All Ambrose could think was gratitude that she wouldn't be using the straight razor.

Governess Goode was rough as she somewhat painfully stretched out it his ball sack by the skin to produce as smooth and broad a surface as possible, but she had a light touch with the actual shaver. Still, she had to suppress a growing erection twice.

Governess Goode called out to Governess Nurse. "Please wheel the waxing kit over."

The waxing was a new type of pain, but as things go, it wasn't anywhere near as alarming considering that women all over the world willingly undergo this procedure regularly. He was in fact grateful that they didn't use the razor or wax to depilate his scrotum.

Predictably, he was ordered onto his belly so that he could be completely waxed. There was some momentary alarm as Governess Nurse spread his buttocks so that Governess Goode could apply wax directly to his anus. Had he not been aware this was not completely an uncommon practice he would have panicked. But given what he had already experience in a single night, he was not all that shocked.

Governess Goode once again turned her attention to his underarms to wax off the stubble and finished off with his legs.

When his body was completely smooth, Governess Bishop ordered him off the table.

"Walk around the room a little, but at a relaxed pace."

Ambrose was completely unprepared for the level of silky sensuality he felt. At one point, in spite of himself, he even sauntered and strutted somewhat, almost sexually.

"Ladies," said Governess Bishop, "that there is the bitch timidly peeking out from under the cover of the man."

Ambrose froze. He could only stare at the four governesses as he worriedly moved closer to coming to grips with a reality he had long fought to suppress.

Playing to the moment, Governess Bishop moved toward him and circled around to his back side. Due to their relative heights, she was tall enough to drape an arm sensuously over his shoulder.

Ambrose, had never been fully naked while embraced by someone who was fully clothed. It was a different flavor of vulnerability than anything he had ever experienced. He wanted to violently shake her off but didn't dare.

"I so wish that our respective natures were that of the other," she breathed hotly into his ear, "where they to be, I'd plant a child in there." She reached around with her other hand and caressed his belly where a uterus would be located had he been female. It was a firm and sensual touch that seemed to penetrate the surface and, so affected his psyche, if only for the briefest of moments, that he wondered if perhaps he actually possessed a womb.

It seemed so right that he should, that he smothered further thought on the subject lest it break him.

She kissed his neck and without warning and began to rub his nipples softly. Yet again, his cock began to betray him as the other women watched with clinical expressions.

"Of course," she continued, "I would never settle into a life of matrimony with you; our progeny would be a little bastard. One of many, each siring their own little bastards, ensuring the spread of my legacy of pain and torment against the likes of you into perpetuity."

Governess Bishop stopped abruptly and lightly spanked him once on the buttocks.

"Unfortunately you're not meant for me." She said, pulling away from him.

"Measurements." She said, whereupon Governess Goode and Governess Nurse produced measuring tapes and began calling out his various dimension to Governess Corey who recorded everything first on a slip of paper, then into her notebook.

Governesses Goode and Nurse then disappeared onto another room with the slip of paper detailing his measurements. Ambrose was directed to sit on an expensive looking and very comfortable upholstered chair.

At the far end of the room, Governesses Bishop and Corey carried out a discussion in hushed tones, occasionally looking at Ambrose.

At some point his stomach grumbled loudly enough to be noticed by the two women. They stopped their talking, looked at him and burst into laughter. The laugher died down as governesses Goode and Nurse reentered the room carrying retail boxes of varying slimness.

"Sit on the divan." Governess Bishop gestured to the odd-looking red sofa that featured a back rest on only half of its full length.

Governess Goode and Governess Nurse placed the boxes on the floor near the divan and pulled up matching small ottomans to sit upon.

Governess Goode opened the first box. Through sheer white wrapping tissue, Ambrose glimpsed something canary yellow in color. Governess Goode delicately unfolded the tissue to reveal a silky pair of crotchless panties.

Ambrose snapped up to look at Governess Bishop with a desperation that seemed to say, "Please don't do this."

Governess Bishop walked over to him in an overly aggressive manner that appeared to be genuine as opposed to theatrical. When she leaned into his face, the sheer, white hot hatred emanating from her eyes shocked him. He had never experienced anything like it.

What had he ever done to earn such hate from anyone, much less someone who was totally unknown to him just two hours before?

"I've willingly served Cassilda far longer than you can imagine. I tell you this so you can understand that I've earned very wide latitude with her when it comes to how I handle things. If you're not understanding what I'm telling you, let me spell it out. If I delay her plans for you by breaking both of your arms, she will be very cross with me--- she might even reduce some of my privileges, but she'll go no further than that.

"So, Mr. Sweet, I want you to imagine being at the mercy of others to feed yourself and wipe your own ass for however long it takes you to recover. And sure, those charged with your care will resent me for putting them in the position of having to clean your shit, but they'll take it out on you.

"And even after all that, when you've fully recuperated, this whole ordeal will just pick up where we left off and--- and I'll still be in charge of carrying it out."

Her words were like a broadsword driving point-forward into his belly with its agony of piercing of skin followed by its slicing through his innards. But then came the calm that inevitably comes when the shock of such trauma, coupled with blood loss and the flood of hormones combines, to instill in one the acceptance of one's fate.

Although the dark metaphorical poetry of the imagery was lost on him at the time, that was the moment when his intestinal fortitude died.

As they proceeded to put the panties on Ambrose, he retained just enough presence of mind to comply with the nurses' instructions in order to avoid punishment and to be cognizant of what was happening to him. But to a tiny degree also, his mind partially wandered into a safe space, occupying him with vapid memories of more pleasant times, favorite songs, movies, TV shows, playground antics, video games etc.