He is Your Master Now Pt. 08

Things got worse anyway.

They did not walk down to the gym as he expected, they instead went to the main hall where they met a slim, short, athletic looking woman who had just arrived. Ambrose steeled himself and managed not to cover up.

The two women hugged and since Pippi still held on to the leash, Ambrose had to jump to a position that allowed her freedom of movement, without incidentally getting his leash jerked or, especially, intentionally because he should have anticipated her moves.

"It's so good to see you again"

"You too."

They exchanged some small talk about the last time they worked together and finally Pippi turned to Ambrose.

"Ambrose, this is Gabrielle. She's an actual dancer; a professional ballerina but she knows all kinds of dance styles.

"Gabrielle, Ambrose."

"Good to meet you Ambrose." She was not in the least surprised at his nudity and in fact, she appeared to ignore it altogether.

"Good to meet you," he said stressfully.

"Hey where's your stuff?" asked Pippi.

Gabrielle was about to answer when a young, large black man wearing a chauffeur's uniform entered carrying two duffle bags.

Ambrose instinctively jumped behind Pippi. Pippi turned, shot him a disapproving look and side stepped him, exposing him once more; holding him at bay with an arm when he attempted to hide again.

"We had problems with Stephen and requested another driver," she told him. "This is Manuel. Say hello to Manuel."

Ambrose was shaking with embarrassment, shame and inadequacy.

"Ambrose!" Pippi snapped. "You're embarrassing me. Say hi to Manuel."

"Hi--- Manuel," it was hoarse and almost inaudible.

"Hello Ambrose," said Manuel.

Manuel then turned to Pippi. "Excuse me if it's not my place to say this because of your rules, which I'm still learning, but I'd like it if you didn't make me the center of any harsh treatment of Ambrose here, or anyone else."

Then seeing that Ambrose was shaking, he added "Hey Ambrose, you'd be doing me a favor if you just relax, I don't judge whatever you're into. Deep down inside, we're all freaky to someone."

"Thanks," Ambrose said shakily, but only because he sensed some response was expected of him.

Manuel was everything Ambrose wasn't, even their respective names highlighted the differences.

"Manuel" was a working man's name. A name that actually started with the word "MAN. a meat and potatoes name. A savory name.

Ambrose was an office worker unused to working with anything beyond basic tools (screwdriver, pliers, hammer etc.) The very name "Ambrose" was too close to Ambrosia, which while not often used as a woman's name, was most definitely feminine sounding, and when it was used, it was usually as an alias used by strippers and porn actresses. Other than that, "Ambrosia", based on Greek mythology, was more commonly used to refer to a kind of modern-day fruit salad loaded with cream and sugar. It was sweet, which was also Ambrose surname.

And "fruit", of course, was a derogatory term for gay men. Ambrose had hurled the epithet himself on occasion.

Manuel: Tall, muscular (by the looks of the fit of his suit), black, meat and potatoes.

Ambrose Sweet: Somewhat short, slim (with a woman's ass apparently), white, sweet fruit salad.

Even their dispositions were polar opposites. Had their roles been reversed, Ambrose would delight in adding to his torment. Manuel on the other hand was polite and considerate.

The rumors about black men being well endowed, reinforced by porn films, stood front and center in Ambrose mind while in the presence of Manuel. Ambrose suddenly wanted to believe that the black male actors in porn were specifically selected because they fit the myth, and that other black men were normally endowed. But try as he might, he couldn't convince himself.

It didn't really matter anyway because there was no rumor regarding Ambrose' manhood; it was exposed for all to see.

Each second ticked off as an eternity.

"Well, let's get going," Said Pippi.

Pippi and Gabrielle walked side by side talking about something Ambrose couldn't follow because he trailed behind them led by the leash in Pippi's hand, and behind him, with a full view of Ambrose' ass, was Manuel.

Another popular notion swam through Ambrose: the notion that black men, more than other men, were into fine asses. Whether true or not, the culture at large reinforced this idea and now, Manuel was behind Ambrose where he could see Ambrose "delectable" ass, as Pippi described it.

Ambrose was sure that Manuel was staring at his ass with its sexy walk-bounce. His "delectable" ass with its enticing "jiggle characteristics."

For just a moment, Ambrose feared that Manuel, unable to resist, would hold both bags with one hand just so that he could smack Ambrose' ass with the other. Then he'd squeeze it without permission, just as Ambrose had rudely done to Cassilda in the hotel elevator the first day he met her. Then he imagined Manuel running his big, dark, rough hand all over his ass; getting a feel for its firmness, enjoying how the smooth, creamy white skin sensuously rounded his delicious curves, ultimately slipping a finger between his---.

Ambrose shut the thought down by trying to imagine the Yellow Sign on Cassilda's chest. Try as he might, he couldn't picture it. Before long he was lost in frustrated thought trying to see the damned thing with Manuel nearly forgotten.

When they reached the gym, Governess Nurse was waiting for them.

"This is some gym you have here," Manuel was highly impressed.

"I'm sure we can arrange for you to use it from time to time." Said Pippi. "Governess Nurse, would that permissible?"

"We've extended its use to special guests; it would be up to Bishop and we'd have to make sure Cassilda didn't have anything special planned for the day. I can give the young man my contact information when I see him to the game room."

"Well, look," Manuel said, "I hope you don't think I was being complimentary to try to---"

"Nonsense, " Said Pippi, "I suggested it, you're in the clear."

"Well, I don't want anyone to go to any trouble on my account."

"It's quite alright young man," said Governess Nurse. "It's more common to offer our facility than you might suppose. If Bishop clears it, you can even bring friends, so long as they're as polite as you."

"Oh, I would never bring anybody who would be too loud or rude. Even if only out of concern for them, from what I've heard about this place."

"Yes, well, these three have work to do, I'll see you to the game room where you can entertain yourself or just watch TV. Miss Gabrielle will text me when she's done."

Manuel told Gabrielle he'd see her later to drive her back. Then he said goodbye to Pippi and finally, he extended a hand to Ambrose who warily took it. But instead of shaking his hand and releasing it, Manuel did a slow two-handed shake, keeping his other hand atop Ambrose, intimately.

"I meant it when I said you can relax around me. I wish you would because it makes me feel self-conscious, like you're expecting the worse from me."

On top of everything, Ambrose now had to fear coming off as racist. Realizing that, he now felt that he'd have to be more receptive to Manuel in order to dispel any notion that he was racist, which was somewhat true. Mortified, Ambrose just wanted the moment to be over.

"No. You're right. I'm just nervous," it was flat and hollow.

"I'm serious, do you think you can relax when I'm around, for my sake? For me? Can you do that for me Ambrose?" Manuel smiled.

Manuel looked full into Ambrose' eyes. Looking back at the big man's face, Ambrose hoped he was wrong about the expression he saw there. He could swear it was desire. He didn't exactly like it, but it oddly made him feel better because at least it was the total opposite of the cruel ridicule he had been expecting.

"Yeah, I'll be alright next time. It was just a surprise."

"I'm very glad to hear that Ambrose, but you know what would make me feel better?"

The only possible ways Ambrose could imagine that Manuel expected Ambrose to make him feel better were horrific. He began to tremble more noticeably and looked to Pippi for guidance, but all he got from both Pippi and Gabrielle, was their rapt, but amused attention.

"What would make you feel better?" Ambrose replied nervously. His trembling increasing even more in anticipation of what Manuel wanted from him.

Manuel clasped Ambrose' hand tighter as if to calm him. It didn't and then moved in uncomfortably close, causing Ambrose to crane his neck up to look at him.

"It would make me feel a lot better if you smiled. Can you smile--- for me?"

Ambrose smiled. Anything to get this over with thought Ambrose.

"Aw, Ambrose," Manuel chuckled, "that smile is so fake, but that's OK. I can see the effect I have on you." He jokingly sighed, "I guess that smile will have to wait. I bet it's a really nice smile too. But one day, Ambrose, one day, I'm going to grow on you, and you'll smile from ear to ear."

Manuel removed his top hand and with the other, switched to holding Ambrose's fingers, as if he meant to bring Ambrose' hand to his lips to kiss it.

"Mark my words. I'm going to make you smile one day for real Ambrose. And I'm sure it'll be a lovely smile. You take care yourself now." And with that Manuel left with Governess Nurse and Ambrose could finally start breathing again.

It was Gabrielle who broke the silence. "Woo! I flirted with him the entire way and nothing. Looks like you got his attention big time. I actually started getting wet there, and it wasn't even a whole minute."

"I was also getting aroused," Added Pippi. "He's a welcome change from Stephen. Stephen wouldn't have been able to resist belittling you, at least just a bit. I think we got lucky. Don't you Ambrose? Don't you prefer Manuel over Stephen."

Ambrose barely interacted with Stephen, but it was enough to determine that the man had little empathy. But he had to admit that Manuel's treatment of him was better than Stephen's taunts.

Ambrose inwardly cursed himself, he meant to say that Manuel was polite while Stephen was a jack ass. But what came out was "um, yeah. I prefer Manuel."

PREFER. The word mocked him because in context within the moment that just passed, it could be interpreted as Ambrose having a certain kind of interest in Manuel.

"Gabrielle, why don't you get started, I have to make a phone call," said Pippi moving some distance out of earshot with phone in hand.

Gabrielle quickly went to one of her duffle bags and pulled out clothing of some kind.

It wasn't pink, but rather an understated green, and it wasn't humorously stereotypical like a gag Halloween costume, in fact it looked very tasteful and professionally made, but it was a tutu just the same and it came with matching tights.

It was for Ambrose of course.

Gabrielle handed him the tights. "Put on these tights first."

Without putting up a fuss, Ambrose donned the tights; his face dead and zombie-like.

"I'll help you with the Tutu, but for shoes, I'm going to let you use sneakers because we're not trying to make you professional, you just need enough skills to please Cassilda."

Pippi flashed an odd look at Ambrose as she rejoined them just after Gabrielle helped him with the tutu. "Did he put up a fuss?" she asked.

"Nope. Completely compliant."

"Good, but it doesn't make up for trying to hide himself from Manuel and hesitating to greet him."

Ambrose pretended not to hear, as if his mind was blankly submissive. He felt certain Pippi meant to punish him for using her body to shield his nudity from Manuel, like a frightened girl hiding behind a big, strong, protective boyfriend. He hoped that if he spent the rest of the day in total submission to his lessons and instructions, that just might be enough to redeem himself.

Gabrielle taught him some very basic ballet moves just to get him started. He was attentive and managed to meet her expectations.

After about an hour, she gave him her initial assessment.

"You did very well so far. But now we're going to repeat the moves you just performed I just need you to put more awareness into your performance; keep in mind that the female form has inspired more art than just about anything else by far. Feel every movement and think 'feline'."

Gabrielle then seemed to go off in a different direction.

"When two straight women have sex, their femininity is generally not in question with the culture at large. But if two straight men blow each other or go beyond that, no matter how manly they are, their masculinity is called into question, in a negative way."

Ambrose couldn't understand how two straight men can fuck each other and not be considered less than manly, nor did he have a clue about what this had to do with dancing.

"Most straight men are scared to death that someone might think that they're attracted to other men. Now it may be hard for you to understand this, but it's not the attraction itself that's the problem per se, it's the notion that only women are supposed to be attracted to men.

"Music, poems, paintings, sculptures, illustrations--- you get the picture. Women are mesmerizing in a way that men just can't be, even to other women, to the point where heterosexual women are more likely to experiment with same sex intercourse than heterosexual men.

"So, our entire gender has worked its influence on this world in a way that masculinity hasn't, and yet on the other hand, we're viewed as inferior to the point where some men do all that they can to show that there's not a shred of femininity in them.

"Pippi has brought me up to speed on your history with Cassilda and your resistance to your training. You resist because you think so little of us even as you desire us. And it's a pity that you might always have this attitude.

"I can't say I can cure you of that attitude through dance, but, if only when you're with me, you can manage to set that aside, I can help you impress Cassilda with your dancing skills. And if you empathize with the feminine, you just might grow as a man. I know that doesn't make sense right now, but one day it will."

She conducted the lesson in this manner for the next two hours, after which she gave her goodbyes and left until the next day.

It was not lost on Ambrose that she was easily capable of carrying both of her duffle bags.

"I'm proud of how you conducted yourself with Gabrielle and I'm especially proud that you did well. But now it's time to put your tutu and tights away and make our way to the kitchen for lunch."

Once he was totally nude, she put the collar and leash back on and led him away.

When they got to the main hall, however, all of the governesses were present, along with five, rather large men, two of which looked very seedy. Ambrose nearly pissed himself in shame and anger, but he dare not hide himself or resist whatever was to come for fear of something even worse.

The men immediately started to laugh. Big, loud, boisterous laughs that made it difficult for every single one of them to catch their breaths. And just when it seemed that it was over--- an eternity later, it would start again. It took a long time for their laughter to finally subside.

"Do you remember yesterday" began Pippi sternly, "when I told you we'd round up six to eight random men to feel you up if you try to cover your nakedness?"

Ambrose flushed hot; sweat began to bead on his forehead. He nodded yes.

"Speak up. Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

"Well I couldn't even get six men on such short notice so these five will have to do."

Ambrose realized this was the nature of the phone call she had excused herself to make.

"Gentlemen," snapped Governess Bishop, "you each get two minutes to examine this --- ahem--- 'man,' then all at once for a whole minute."

"Man! This shit is crazy," one of them said.

They all basically chimed in with the same sentiment, but when one of them started point out that there were a lot of expensive things in the manor, implying that they should overcome the woman and the "faggot" with malicious intent, Governess Bishop barked out: "Ladies! Present."

All four governesses pulled out guns.

"Shit just got real," said one of the men.

"Uh, for the record, I'm not a thief--- I wouldn't have gone along," said another.

Governess Bishop addressed all the men. "You can have your little fun, sticking to the guidelines you've been given and walk out here with a lot of money and an amusing story, or you can all leave in body bags if just one of you steps out of bounds. Police yourselves and each other."

The other four men turned on the man who made the comment and warned him that they'd give him a savage beating if he got them in trouble.

"You could give him a savage beating if you wish, but you'd all still wind up dead." They absolutely feared Governess Bishop, probably with a little help from Cassilda even though she was not present in the hall.

Had Ambrose seen the four governesses holding guns, he would have been shocked. But he was in such a frantic state that he was completely unaware of what had just occurred.

"You first," Pippi pointed at the best groomed of the bunch, then removed the collar from Ambrose.

The man stepped forward laughing in disbelief. He looked back at his compatriots for encouragement and got it. But he still reached only a tentative hand towards Ambrose' belly.

Ambrose jolted as the man touched him. For the fleetest of moments, he thought of running away from the great hall.

The man's hand was rough with callouses. They almost felt like small random fingernails lightly roving all over his belly and his chest. Normally ticklish, Ambrose didn't respond except to shake so badly that he appeared to be shivering.

"Look!" said one of the men, "he's shaking like a little bitch. But I think he likes it"

"That whole nervous shit is probably just an act," said another.

"Nah. Look," he pointed at Ambrose penis, "he aint hard."

"How can you even tell from here? The bitch has a Vienna sausage for a dick and it's not even as thick."

The man currently touching him moved to his back side.

"Holy shit!"

"What?" they all asked curiously.

He spun Ambrose around.

"Look at this fine ass."

The guffaws that ensued nearly broke Ambrose.

"That's a woman's ass."

The first man bent a pliant Ambrose at the waist and began rubbing squeezing and lightly spanking his ass as Ambrose tried to lose himself in the rug pattern on the floor.

"Man, this shit feels awesome too. I think I might be getting chubby."

More laughter and crude remarks.

By the time the second man was halfway through his turn, Ambrose began to recede, lost in the effort to recall the Yellow Sign.

"Hey," the man who was third in line said with concern, "I think he's getting cata--- catonic?" he meant to say catatonic but wasn't sure of the word. "Maybe we should stop!"

"If you want to stop, that's up to you but I don't think they're going to pay you."

The concerned man, being third in line, merely held Ambrose at the waist and rubbed the side of his hip.

Ambrose was too far gone to notice the kindness.

"Aw man," said one of the other men, "you're almost as faggy as that bitch."

The fourth man followed the example of the first two.

The fifth man, the seediest and more 'aromatic' of the bunch, realizing that no one had yet touched Ambrose little dick, decided he'd be the one. His hands, being the roughest, roused Ambrose from the safe haven of trying to picture the Yellow Sign.

No man had ever touched his penis before. This man with is large and rough hands, feeling him up was altogether unpleasant and the most humiliating experience of his life, even more so than the four who preceded him.

"It feels smaller than it looks"