He is Your Master Now Pt. 10

When they were done, they called for Manuel to pick them back up.

During the ride back Pippi turned to Ambrose. "You're probably starting to get a little hungry by now. I'm sorry we didn't eat lunch but it's all part of your special day and you'll have to hold out for a while longer when we get back. There's another treat in store for you."

Ambrose was riding so high after their outing that he hardly noticed the butt plug anymore. And because on the one hand he was so glad to be away from the mansion, and on the other he was glad to be going back (ending his paranoia of being dressed in public), he supposed he could wait a little longer to eat.

Tucked further away in the back of his mind was the thrill he felt all the time a man flirted with him at the mall while also being appalled.

When it came to picking up women, before life with Cassilda, only about a fraction of those attempts ended in success, which is why he doggedly persisted. Of those that actually ended in sex, he wound being called an asshole and or ridiculed for his size. Few hookups ended amenably, and no one ever dated him twice.

But perhaps his biggest problem, was picking up a woman in the first place as there was always too much competition, and many of his competitors were better looking, tall, muscular, rich or any combination of those traits.

Today, Ambrose was the one who was desirable. If nothing else, he could not deny the boost to his confidence, morale and even pride that came with that desirability.

He reflected on the incident with the lewd man and found himself fascinated because he had come close to behaving that way himself on occasion, but only rarely. But now, he couldn't get past the notion that he himself could inspire such lust followed quickly by such anger. It made him feel powerful in a sense, but also vulnerable. If that man was crazy enough, and had the setting been much less public, it might have ended in violence. Regardless of how better physically fit Ambrose was when compared to a month ago, his training wasn't geared for strength; he'd still be no match for that man.

Lost in the day's experience, something began happening to him during the ride back to Carcosa Manor. Something he didn't want to put words to even in his head. While they were out, Manuel had lowered the privacy partition, and it was purely coincidence that just at that moment, he caught Manuel's eyes darting in his direction from the rearview mirror.

It was very brief, the man was driving after all, and Ambrose couldn't read him just then. But he felt uncomfortable enough to squirm just a little, causing the large, stainless steel butt plug lodged in his ass to assert itself.

Associating the butt plug with Manuel unsettled him and despite himself, he wondered what Manuel would look like in a porn film fucking a smallish, pale, young, white woman. Whatever weakening safety mechanism he had in his mind was still strong enough to keep him from realizing that he was trying to picture himself. Nevertheless, it rattled away in his subconscious with each bump in the road, and each jostle of the butt plug.

At the mansion, Manuel ran around to open the rear passenger side door. He held his hand out for Pippi who took it daintily as he helped her out of the limo.

Ambrose tried to open the rear driver side door to let himself out, but the child safety lock had been set, as if he were the child. He had no choice but scoot over and feel the butt plug in the process. The hunk of metal was such a distraction that he absentmindedly offered his hand to Manuel for help. Manuel quickly grabbed it as if it might fly away like a frightened little bird. The effect was as if Manuel's hand had seared the very spot it touched Ambrose'. Manuel too, seemed to be affected. He didn't smile but looked knowingly into Ambrose' eyes.

The butt plug in his ass suddenly felt much heavier.

Manuel handed Ambrose' hand to Pippi.

"You two gorgeous ladies have a beautiful day." He blew a kiss to both, but Pippi and Ambrose knew it was directed at Ambrose.

"Thank you, Manuel, you too" said Pippi.

She squeezed Ambrose hand when he failed to thank Manuel.

"Uh, yes. Thank you very much. You're very nice." He winced inwardly at that last, unnecessary remark.

To Ambrose great surprise, the main entrance opened directly not onto the vestibule that let into the main hall, but into the parlor.

He had never experienced such a drastic change in the mansion's strange morphing or teleporting (he didn't know which) architecture. It was such a shock that he found it momentarily dizzying.

Pippi sat facing away from the vanity and lightly patted her lap. "Give me a foot."

Ambrose complied and she slipped off his shoe, then the other. From there, she proceeded to disrobe him, neatly fold his clothes herself, and place them on the vanity. The wig came off next and they redid his natural hair without shampooing it, even though it was sweaty and gave him a particularly slutty look. The look was reinforced by Pippi applying heavy mascara that bordered on raccoon like.

He was now naked and looked like an unkempt whore. Pippi leashed and collared him and led him out of the parlor door which now opened onto the master bedroom.

Again he felt disoriented. When Pippi closed the door behind him; Ambrose turned at the familiar sound and sure enough, the parlor door was replaced by the bedroom door.

Pippi retrieved Ambrose' "toy bag"; the one containing the BDSM items most used on him.

"What kind of treat am I in store for?" he thought, feared what was coming was no treat at all. Governess Bishop had always prepped him before sex with Cassilda. He wondered why it was Pippi this time.

"It's go time honey," she said.

While he stood, Pippi attached leather restraints just below each knee and above each ankle. She then instructed him to assume his normal position: on hands and knees a few feet from the foot of the bed, after which she attached his restraints via chains to black iron rings embedded in the floor, hinged to be flush with the surface when not in use.

This time around his hands were left unrestrained, and there was no bench for him to lean over.

"You need to steady yourself with your hands on the floor and, this is very important, look towards the floor, close your eyes and don't look until I tell you. You must do this exactly as I just said" She kissed him sexily.

Immediately after following her instructions, Ambrose heard the clack of the door as it opened, followed by footsteps. At first, he thought it might be Cassilda, but he got the sense that it wasn't. Whoever it was, positioned himself in front of him instead of behind him and their breathing sounded very strange.

An interminable time passed; Ambrose thought that perhaps he was being tested on whether or not he could follow instructions under this unusual circumstance.

"Ok Ambrose, open your eyes and look up."

Except for Andrea, he had never seen any penises in real life except at public rest rooms and even then, it was always an accidental glimpse. Other than that, he had only seen penises in porn films.

What he saw now, just inches from his face, was a white man's penis that was perhaps the most massive, erect penis he had ever seen.

At just the sight of it, his mind careened across the cosmos, bouncing off galaxy after galaxy.

The massive cock extended out from an expensive pair of trousers, surely tailored explicitly for this man. He doubted that off the rack pants could accommodate such an obscenity.

All sorts of crazy and conflicting thoughts and emotions ran through him. It seemed like an eternity before he could begin calming down and regard it seriously.

The damned thing seemed wired by thick, dark, cable-like veins that contrasted the white skin. It called to mind cables on a suspension bridge because surely, something so large and extending so far from its base, could not have been grown, it had to have been engineered. It seemed such a monstrous thing that if it had teeth, it could burrow through flesh.

He could actually see it bob slightly with every beat of the man's heart. He had never even imagined something like that was possible.

When the man adjusted his stance slightly and it seemed to Ambrose that the prick was so massive that there was, as a matter of physics, some delay before it reflected the movement. Its mass was such that it bobbed up and down slowly rather than quickly as most large penises might. And it took some time before it settled to reflect once again, only the beating of the incredibly powerful heart that it must take to sustain such a thing.

The words prick, cock, dick, peter, what have you, seemed inadequate. This was a schlong.

Schlong was a heavy word that rested in the back of the mouth with its over-pronounced "---ong" sound. Schlonnnnnnngggggggggggg. It suggested the ringing of a bell so massive, that it took some time to dwindle to silence.

Ambrose suddenly realized that he was overcome with such a sense of awe, that it hadn't yet occurred to him to look up at this man's face. Once the thought entered his mind however, he was petrified to do so. What would he see in this man's face? Derision and mockery on a scale unimaginable? He was bound to be met with a sure sense of superiority as the stranger looked down at Ambrose from on high as if from the heavens.

Would he belittle Ambrose' little penis? a poor specimen that hardly seemed like a penis at all compared to this--- this---. If Ambrose were to put his small cock alongside an average sized cock, he could still claim to be a man. But up against this white whale? he may as well have been of a different species altogether.

Surely, with their relative positions, the man lording his cock before Ambrose face, and Ambrose helplessly held in place on his knees, it could only mean that the man meant to violate him. To just force that massive beast down his throat, a throat that would surely rip in the process as there was no way he could accommodate it.

The fear and panic he felt burst like the loudest balloon. He struggled more than he had ever before to keep from speaking aloud because of what was topmost on his mind. But the mental effort it took was similar to that of straining to hold a heavy weight. With each moment that ticked, his resolved weakened until he reached a point where he capitulated.

"It's beautiful." Ambrose said hoarsely.

Just then, Cassilda was at the man's side, stroking the member as one would a large, dangerous pet.

"Yes, it is beautiful" she said.

Ambrose mouth began to water.

"Ambrose" Cassilda spoke to him. "I'm not exercising any control over you at this moment. You're free to do whatever you please."

He looked at her but couldn't read her expression.

"Ambrose. You know what you want to do, blank your mind and go with your instincts. Go with what I know is your natural inclination. If I'm wrong, you just have to say your full name, 'Ambrose Sweet,' three times, and you'll be rid of me, this place--- everything. I'll even gift you a three way with two of my maenads before we see you off."

Distracted by the monster cock before him, Ambrose looked at her confused.

Cassilda simplified her offer. "Say your whole name three times and we'll loosen the bonds, and you can fuck two of my women. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrr you can do what we all know you want to do.

Just then the man placed a massive hand on Ambrose face and caressed it. Though it was very sensuously soothing it also conveyed a sense of confidence. This was a man who had grown used to his cock having a hypnotic and alluring effect on people.

Ambrose closed his eyes, momentarily lost in the sensuousness of the gesture but wondering what to do. He wanted to feel as if he was lost and stumbling accidentally into the dark territory of his soul. But he wasn't lost. He knew the path he wanted to take; the path he knew he would take.

Through the darkness he heard Cassilda speak softly to him. "Do whatever you want Ambrose. You have complete freedom to be yourself."

With his eyes still closed, Ambrose leaned forward. He meant to just touch the beast lightly with his closed lips just to see what happened.

Contact.

A wildly writhing ferocious animal broke free from the pit of Ambrose' soul and scrambled to the surface, effortlessly brushing aside all the weakened obstacles and ripping its way into the light of freedom.

With his eyes still closed, the Yellow Sign jumped into his mind's eye completely unprompted.

Like a man possessed, he grabbed the cock softly, tentatively, out of fear that he was imagining the whole thing, and that a much surer grip would reveal it as an illusion. Once his small womanly hands felt it's heat, he planted furiously passionate, tiny little kisses all over the tip.

He opened his eyes when he realized what he had done.

The lust that flooded him filled him with a giddiness that made his head swoon. "Swoon," that was a word they used for women. His own little cock was throbbing just as forcefully as it did when he was about to have sex with Cassilda.

Time came to a near standstill as he suddenly remembered all the men who stared at he and Pippi in the mall, particularly the crude one who called them skanks. He remembered as well, the flashing thought that came to his subconscious mind, and was quickly snuffed out by his conscious mind, but which nevertheless contained a level of stunning detail as only an erotic memory could.

He was a much older man, maybe in his forties, he had bit of a paunch, a five o'clock shadow that promised a sparse beard at best, and he was bald. It didn't matter that the man would be considered somewhat repulsive by many women, there was still a handsomeness there, but that wasn't an issue.

At that moment in the mall, for just the tiniest moment, Ambrose wanted that man to grab him and force his cock all the way into his mouth and slap him hard in the face if he resisted. Then he wanted to be turned over, his pants ripped off, his panties moved to the side and fucked. Fucked hard like a cheap whore, as if he were nothing but the promise of a good grunt and a couple of pleasurable squirts of DNA pudding. The memory was so liberating that he became hyper-sensitive. His nipples became erect, and he deliberately started gyrating his hips and flexing his ass cheeks. This time he wanted to feel the butt plug.

With his mind back in the present, Ambrose touched the monster snake more firmly with hands that quivered in excited anticipation.

It was hot to the touch. He tried to encircle it with his hand, but he came nowhere close to accomplishing that goal. He remarked to himself at how dainty and womanly his hands looked with their pretty nail polish as he held the beast.

He held it up at an angle so that he could compare its girth with his arm. It was thicker than his arm.

"Oh my god," he laughed.

He gently caressed it. It was a little sticky, not much, but enough to make his hand skip over veiny nodules like a needle on the surface of a scratched, old-timey vinyl record. He turned his hand over and caressed it with the back of his hand. It was a much smoother movement that way, but it didn't provide quite the satisfaction. The open hand allowed for greater surface area to feel its heat and its heart.

Ambrose encircled it with both hands and gave a slight squeeze. Its firmness was almost steel like but still pleasantly yielding.

Pippi was suddenly at the man's other side.

"Hey Ambrose, she said with vicarious excitement.

Still smiling with amazement, he looked at her.

"Squeeze it hard."

Ambrose complied but only weakly.

"No, use all your might, as if you're trying to crush it."

He summoned up all his strength but could only barely squeeze it a little more. The man didn't react at all.

He prepared himself to finally look up at the man's face by sexily pouting his lips and donning his most adoring, worshipful face, similar to those of some women in porn films. Though it was a conscious decision, it still came to him naturally.

He looked up.

He wanted to see a haughty, proud, conceited face with a heavy five O'clock shadow looking down at him; laughing at his wretched weakness. He wanted to feel the sense of worthlessness that came by being regarded by a superior man. He would be ecstatic and revel at seeing the inconsequentiality of his existence as reflected in the face of a god.

What met his gaze, however, was a featureless yellow mask with only dark slits for eyes and none for his mouth and nose which explained the weird breathing. The mask appeared to be bolted to the man's face. Right where his forehead would be, was emblazoned the same weird Yellow Sign that Cassilda had tattooed on her chest. Above that, was a plain crown of gold.

Before disappointment could set in, Ambrose realized that because he could attach no face to the owner of this big, beautiful cock, it removed the possibility of even a whisper of a relationship, even if the relationship was like that of bull to a slug. It actually allowed him to give the cock his full concentration as if the prick itself was an entity all its own and the man merely the vessel that carried it.

Something glistened at the tip, drawing Ambrose' attention there. Some precum fluid was oozing out of the folds of the impossibly thick foreskin.

Without even thinking, he darted his tongue to the area and for the first time, tasted another man's fluids. It was a bit acrid and watery, but he was so enthralled by the wantonness of playing with his first real cock, that he loved the taste of it. If he was served a shot glass of the stuff, he'd down it, bang the glass on the counter and ask for another and another.

He experimented with the foreskin and found that if he pulled it from opposing sides, it better accommodated his tongue. He could slip it in and tease out more man juice.

Both Pippi and Cassilda watched approvingly, like mothers watching a child play with the hottest Christmas toy of the year.

Pippi took his hand in hers and positioned it on the cock head just beyond the tip. She showed him how the foreskin rolls back to reveal the head by guiding his hand. She pulled it back just a bit because she wanted to let Ambrose enjoy exposing the cock head beneath all by himself.

It was a strange sensation and unlike anything he had ever done or felt. As the foreskin rolled back, he could feel the changing landscape of the cock beneath it.

He knew the head would be large, but finally seeing it took his breath away. It was knobby of course and slightly purplish. But naturally, being so large the opening at the tip was also large enough to better resembled a mouth with sensuous, tiny lips turned to its side. He closed his eyes, applied his own lips to them and kissed.

He probed a little with the tip of his tongue and though obviously he couldn't delve to any serious depth, he was able to go further than he would have thought.

He opened his eyes and looked at both Pippi and Cassilda. They were still pleased with him. But now came the moment of truth.

There was no way he'd be able to put that cock in his mouth to any meaningful depth, but he would try. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and breathed in deeply through his nose. This is what a real man smells like. A real man smells like power, assertiveness, confidence and aggression. He imagined that mixed in with the man's natural scent, was the scent of past conquests of both men and women.

Being mindful of his teeth, Ambrose slipped his mouth over the cock head.

It throbbed and pulsed fiercely with a life force greater than his own. The weird underside with its strange texture and feel of skin that seemed fused and grafted together all the way to the urethra provided its own otherworldly sensation. He had heard the term Glorious Mouth Feel applied to the feel rather than the taste and flavor of some food items. What he was feeling now was the true Glorious Mouth Feel.