He is Your Master Now Pt. 08

Two new players enter Ambrose' life: Gabrielle, a ballet dancer hired to teach him various dance styles, and her companion. Pippi demonstrates that she issues no idle threats when she coldly engages in corrective behavior, resulting in the most humiliating moment of Ambrose' life. A stranger's offer confuses Ambrose in an unanticipated way.

He is Your Master Now Part 8: Empathy and Callousness.

Ambrose awoke feeling fully refreshed.

Just like yesterday, Governess Bishop checked to ensure that he was awake and ready and sent him to the kitchen. This time Pippi was already there but today she was dressed in baggy, active wear type clothing and sneakers.

"Good morning. Wow! You look rested," she said approvingly.

He either genuinely looked it, or Cassilda, who seemingly now made it a point to be aware of him at all times, had informed her he slept well.

"I feel rested."

"Good to hear. Sounds like you've come around to the program. I'm really glad. You don't know how much that means to me."

Come around to the program? Sure, he was playing out the situation--- for now, but he certainly hadn't come around to anything. She had to know that.

In characterizing his restful sleep as acceptance of his training, she seemed to be taking advantage of his paranoic uncertainty regarding his relationship with Cassilda and his fear of being cast out of her life. Then she capped it off by also making it about her; relying on the possibility that he would be too considerate of her feelings to object. It all had the feel of a con man's ploy; manipulating the kind of mark who was prone to pleasing people and avoiding conflict. Ambrose desperately wanted to rebuff her. He could feel the moment welling up within him.

He merely smiled at her.

While Pippi's breakfast was considerably light, his own breakfast was much more than he normally ate. It consisted of a very oversized breakfast burrito, assorted fruit slices and yogurt for desert.

He didn't hate breakfast burritos exactly, but he wasn't crazy about them either because sometimes they had ingredients he didn't like mixed in with eggs. Without thinking, he held the burrito up to his nose with both hands and took a whiff to see if he could detect any objectionable ingredient.

Pippi guffawed, causing Ambrose to jerk his head in her direction.

"What?" he asked her.

"You look like you're so daintily nuzzling up to a huge cock with your thin little hands."

So soon in the morning and already he had to analyze his every waking moment and worry over how best to react. He smiled again, but he couldn't do it convincingly.

Pippi ignored it and they ate in silence, although she did have to prod him to finish his meal. When he was done, he complained that he felt too stuffed to move.

"We're not starting off with anything physical, so you'll have plenty of time to digest your food."

They made their way to the parlor where they could sit comfortably and talk.

"Right now what I'm going to do is give you, as best as I can, a broad outline of what Cassilda will be expecting from you when you've completed your training. As your training proceeds, we'll start focusing on the details. Today, in this room only, this will be one of the few times you can speak out of turn. You can even interrupt me if something confuses you."

She then spoke broadly and at length in a manner that seemed off the cuff.

"Cassilda is a woman of many moods and tastes. When she takes on the masculine role, she might want you to be anything from a polished and regal lady, to a slutty, skanky whore. Or she might want you to be the wholesome and demure girl next door or a high-powered career woman. Once you know what she's looking for, you'll need to dress accordingly to play the role more convincingly.

"I should warn you that some of the clothing can be very elaborate."

"Elaborate how?"

"On occasion, her role playing might be set in a past era. She has very detailed expertise on clothing styles and customs going back to the fourteenth century. Very detailed. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"No. I don't. I mean, she doesn't seem like the historic scholar type." He then Hastily added "I don't mean she's stupid, I mean--- those people are usually geeks. And she's as far from being a nerd than anybody I've ever met."

"You'd be surprised what some nerds are into in private. Some of them even go so far as to fetishize their nerdiness. But I understand what you mean. What I mean, is that she seems to have a deep and personal understanding of these eras. As if she lived through them."

Considering all the crazy things Cassilda had managed to pack in the short time he'd known her, plus the obvious supernatural nature of Carcosa Manor, it didn't seem too farfetched.

"Do you think," Ambrose whispered, "she's like a vampire or something?"

"Well, you've seen her in sun light and I'm damn sure you haven't seen any clues that she drinks blood."

"I said 'like' a vampire. There are other kinds of vampires. Vampires feed off the energy of others, it's just that usually, the energy is in blood. Maybe that's what she's doing, but not with blood?" he questioned.

"I can understand why you'd think that, but let me point out to you that when you fuck her and feel drained afterwards, she revitalizes you and then some--- and at her own body's expense, which is why she eats like a lumberjack. Clearly, she doesn't need your life's essence to survive. This draining is just a byproduct of being with her. In fact, just yesterday you told me that you were in better shape because of all the sex you've been having. Plus, we're trying to fatten you up so you can work it off in just the right places, if she was draining you, that would be a waste of time."

"Well then what is she?"

"I honestly don't know Ambrose. Really. Maybe we're both insane and living in a shared illusion. Maybe one of us is a figment of the other's imagination. But getting back to my little lecture," she shifted gears, "there are some pretty elaborate clothes you might have to wear."

"Elaborate like how?"

"Do you know what a crinoline is?"

"Crinoline," he repeated. "I have no idea."

"In movies, TV, historic pictures--- blah blah blah, you see some women in the old days wearing these long outfits where the skirts flare out ridiculously, as if they're wearing a bell made out of cloth. Do you know what I'm talking about?

Ambrose did indeed.

"Did you ever think about how those dresses got that shape?"

Ambrose had given no thought in how they were crafted to make that shape.

"There's an actual skeletal like structure underneath the dress making that shape. They were made out of different materials but there was one type made out of steel wire: The Cage Crinoline, it was called." She paused shaking her head.

"I mean for god's sake, 'cage' Ambrose. Think of the metaphorical implications."

She expanded when he stared back at her blankly.

"With all the restrictions placed on women in the past, especially when it came to their sexuality, the cage crinoline seemed like a literal attempt to 'cage' a sexuality that was already suppressed."

Ambrose nodded; his eyes widening a little in understanding.

"I think," Pippi added, "that if you take some of those prudish men, brought them to the present and showed them all the porn being made today, with thousands of different women sucking cocks, being gangbanged, having lesbian sex and all--- I think they'd all have seizures and drop dead. I can't even imagine what they'd think of LGBTQ or sissy porn."

"They'd probably want to kill people like that," said Ambrose."

"I guess it's a good thing for you they're not here--- not that you're a sissy, of course" she said slyly, "sissy's get fucked by real men, you're doing this for Cassilda." She then hastily added, "but heck, you probably don't realize that lots of masculine men, like construction worker types, goof around in drag in private with their wives or girlfriends and they even get pegged by their women, so it's OK. You shouldn't feel weird about it."

Ambrose couldn't quite picture that. Before today, he wouldn't have considered such men to be "real men" exactly. But by this point he was so desperate to be seen as a real man himself, that he accepted what Pippi said.

"Women wore a lot of restrictive clothing in the past. It's funny though. That wasn't a thing in primitive cultures. They lived so close to the edge that clothing like that, or the animal skin equivalent, would have been impractical. Older civilizations, like the Roman empire also didn't have all that shit. All that shit came with 'high' civilization.

"But now we have a dense, global civilization; women, in most countries anyway, can wear clothing that reveals everything. Camel toes are practically common these days."

"In the city, it's legal for women to go out topless in public," Ambrose chimed in. "I think it started because of the hot summers; men could just take off their shirts, but women couldn't," he elaborated.

"That's quite a good example Ambrose. You're a pretty smart guy."

It was a tiny compliment, and he saw it for what it was: manipulative flattery, but it had a great effect on him anyway.

Pippi continued. "That plays into my next point. So back in the day, women had to wear all this shit, and ironically, it was usually highborn women from rich families or with rich husbands. And sometimes it would get very hot, like in New York City. And underneath all those layers, they often wore corsets that restricted their breathing. The result is that there was a lot of fainting back in the day and that would just feed into the whole 'weaker sex' characterization and clichés in fiction."

Ambrose, who had never delved into this subject, was suddenly fascinated.

"But having to be modest, chaste and faithful to their husbands were not the only thing these women had to contend with, they were also expected to have no interest in sexual fulfilment of any kind. Sex was strictly for procreation. It was considered their duty to produce children, especially sons. They even convinced themselves that they couldn't feel sexual pleasure.

"I don't want to give you the impression that this was the case for all women everywhere. I mean there were loose women. Loose women have always existed, and most women fit somewhere between the two extremes, but that was the popular view of the day.

"Some of these women felt so constricted by these attitudes that naturally, it never occurred to them to rub one out. And so the constant pressure to deny their sexuality while being unable to relieve themselves made some of them--- a little high strung when faced with stressful situations. And that would just feed into the whole 'hysteria' thing.

"Did you know that hysteria actually comes from the Greek word for uterus? Can you imagine anyone today telling an angry woman that she was getting too 'uterany?' and," she added pointedly, "hysteria was actually considered a for real medical condition, except they called it 'Hysterical Paroxysm'. As a result, some doctors began specializing in a radical new medical procedure. Would you like to know what they came up with to cure for hysteria?"

Of course he did.

"They'd finger the patient to orgasm."

Ambrose was incredulous. "Oh come on. You can't possibly expect me to believe that."

"It's true, look it up some time. In fact, the first vibrator was invented by a doctor just for that purpose. Probably because they were lined up going out the door and his poor wrists and fingers couldn't hold out.

"I'm telling you all this so you can begin to understand the level of detail you might have to put into your roleplaying with Cassilda. Naturally, Cassilda herself will be role playing, but as a man from whatever era she's trying to recreate, or relive I suspect."

Ambrose was worried. "I don't think I could pull that kind of stuff off."

"Cassilda will overlook most technical details and anachronistic things and behaviors---"

"Anac-what? asked Ambrose, remembering that he was allowed to interrupt.

"ANA-CROW-NISS-TIK. Something out of place in time. Like a Roman epic in the old days before digital effects, where one of the actors forgot to take off their wristwatch and no one noticed until after the filming. That watch would be anachronistic. But it can apply to anything such as modern-day words and things like that. For instance, in a serious Roman epic you can't have a big, strong, cruel gladiator whose about to deliver a killing stroke to a weak opponent, like a practice slave, suddenly call that man a 'little punk-ass bitch'."

"In the beginning, Cassilda will settle for a sincere attempt at accuracy; it would show her how committed you are to her happiness and her fulfilment. And you have to admit, that even though she's been harsh to you sometimes, she has given you so much more Ambrose. You know she has; there's no better proof of that than your choice to stay.

Ambrose began to object but Pippi cut him off.

"Once you decided against leaving with Stephen, never to return, you must have known you'd owe her. Who else is going to send someone like Andrea to you so that you can abuse her, ejaculate in her mouth and be met with gratitude for the privilege? On what planet would that have been possible if you never met Cassilda?"

"That's not fair." Ambrose objected. "--- the Andrea part that is. That was more of a--- thing for Andrea not me. That's how she gets off--- I think. Or at least for that one time."

"Oh c'mon Ambrose. You're not that stupid. Last night was as much for you as it was for Andrea. Shit, I'll just come out and say it. For Andrea it was a reward, for you, it was positive reinforcement. Cassilda fucked you in the ass, you're were feeling angry about that, also more than a little ashamed, and it came so unexpectedly and was so contradictory to anything you had experienced with her, that you're overloaded with uncertainty, and uncertainty can be one of the most frightening things in life. The bottom line is that Andrea was sent to you to let you know that there might be some rewards for your suffering--- correction, for everything you think you suffer, there just might be an offsetting reward."

"You don't think getting--- raped is suffering?" Ambrose could hardly process his own use and verbalization of the word "raped" as it applied to him.

"Like I said yesterday, Cassilda knows you better than anyone ever did, and that sense of uncertainty you've been feeling? It has roots extending into you deeper than even you are aware of."

"I don't even know what that means. I mean---" he started stammering, "It almost sounds like you're saying I liked it." Realizing he was getting a little too excited, Ambrose tried to calm himself for fear of getting too angry and of what the resulting backlash might entail.

Seeing that he had taken hold of himself, Pippi ignored what he had just said and looked at him soberly with a hint of impatience.

"You owe her Ambrose. You owe her so much. You. Owe. Her."

If Pippi had literally used a branding iron to sear the words "YOU OWE HER" onto his chest, they wouldn't have burned him any worse.

Cassilda wasn't like a mugger taking his wallet after all. She was the mob boss you became beholden to after he did you a favor.

Seeing that Ambrose was only now realizing that what he had experienced since arriving at Carcosa Manor was just a tiny inkling of what was to come, Pippi let her words sink in.

The silence that ensued lasted for nearly ten minutes and was beyond awkward--- for Ambrose.

For Pippi on the other hand, it was all fairly routine. She was not the one under stress. But in all that time, Ambrose couldn't settle on a coherent thought.

When enough time had passed, Pippi broke the silence by further describing the female experience throughout history as if the last exchange hadn't happened. She touched on different cultures. Some of it was light and even whimsical, some of it was dry and boring, and some was horrific, particularly events such as the Salem Witch Trials.

As she began talking, Ambrose began emerging from his inner turmoil and almost immediately started absorbing her lecture, also as if the last exchange hadn't happened. In truth, he was seeking refuge by running well away from Pippi's vague suggestion that he enjoyed being penetrated by Cassilda. That he enjoyed being penetrated at all--- by anyone.

They paused to allow Ambrose a badly needed bathroom break for which he was given a generous half hour. For the entire time, especially while taking a big shit because of his big breakfast, he was reliving Cassilda pegging him and dreading more such incidents in the future.

He remembered that when he was a kid ensnared in the madness of puberty, he often entertained the fantasy that when he got married, he and his wife would be fucking constantly. He couldn't understand why adults didn't spend their every waking moment fucking.

Now that dream was almost literally a reality and he felt ensnared not by puberty, but by an intense longing and lust. And oh! the intense sense of pleasure when he came! As well the unnatural amount of semen he produced. All this was through the magic of Cassilda.

When he came back from the bathroom, Pippi broached a subject he had never seriously given much thought.

"I want you think about Cassilda's tattoos."

"OK?" he said wondering what this was all about.

"You should be familiar with all of them, right?"

Of course he was.

"Close your eyes and think of every single one. Take as long as you need."

"That's easy."

Pippi watched him as he slowly nodded his head when he thought of each one, but soon his brows furrowed in confusion.

"You can't picture the symbol in the crowned yellow mask, can you?"

Ambrose tried harder but to no avail.

"It's OK, I can't picture it either and neither can anyone else. And here's something else you might not have noticed. You pictured all of her other tattoos because I asked you to, but when you think of her naked, you erase them from the image in your head unless it occurs to you to add them."

"More of her magic," he shook his head in amazement at this new wrinkle.

"Yes, more of her magic.

"Is there a reason you're telling me this now?"

"Maybe because it just popped into my head it out of nowhere, so she probably wanted me to tell you."

He tried to think of all the reasons why Cassilda meant for him to know this when Pippi's phone chirped.

She glanced at the text but didn't respond.

"Ok, we have work to do. Take off your robe."

Just as he did the day before, he took it off, neatly folded it and tried to hand it to Pippi.

"Did I tell you to hand it to me?"

Ambrose held on to it.

"Hand it to me."

Slightly irked, he handed it to her.

He was fully naked except for slippers.

"OK, let's go," Pippi said as she made for the door.

Apparently, he was expected to walk to the next room naked. It was one thing to be dragged naked around the mansion proper, against his will by the nurses. And quite another to casually walk around naked. The apprehension he now felt was not exactly extreme, he could probably be coaxed into it, he just needed a few moments to get used to the idea.

Pippi did not allow him any time to get used to the notion and seeing that he was hesitant to follow, she quickly walked to the dresser and opened the same draw in which she had placed the robe.

Oh thank God thought Ambrose. But then his heart sank.

Pippi turned to him again with a collar and leash in hand.

Without so much as an explanation, she collard him and attached the leash.

"Come," she said as she would to a dog, and led him out of the parlor.

Cursing himself for hesitating, he now acquiesced for fear that things could get worse.