He is Your Master Now Pt. 15

On several occasions, Ambrose suspected he had been clocked. On three occasions he was explicitly identified as a man to his face. Thankfully they were all positive. He suspected that Manuel's imposing presence kept the haters at bay.

Two instances involved women, one of which made it known that she knew he was a man because her best relationship was with a feminized man. She wished Ambrose and Manuel well. The other woman was just fascinated by him and felt he need to point out that she fully supported LGBTQ rights. During each of those two incidents, Manuel and Ambrose were polite while being reluctant to engage.

In the third instance, however, he was clocked by a femboy who Ambrose himself had failed to clock. They introduced themselves as Trini.

Ambrose instinctively felt a kinship with Trini. It made him feel as if they were part of a people in the collective sense. He wondered what it was about him that gave him away.

"I don't know. You look totally fem and girly, I guess it's just the way you carry yourself. I can see that you're happy; you dote on each other in a way that most cis women don't except in the beginning of a relationship. You guys, together, seem more... seasoned if that makes sense. But I don't know really. Gay people claim to have gaydar, maybe I have... 'sissy-dar' or something."

The conversation with Trini was brief, perhaps less than five minutes. There was a rushed exchange of origin stories as the situation naturally called for it.

Ambrose made up a story of how he and Manuel hooked up that was essentially a PG-13 version of the truth. In it, he worked for Cassilda, who was a production costume designer as her personal assistant. She saw Ambrose for what he was and thought that he and Manuel, who sometimes modeled for her, would hit it off and make a cute couple.

As for Trini, who's birth name he learned was Harold, he had fallen down the sissy rabbit hole. It was a journey that started with sissy hypno porn and was compounded by social media. After working up the courage to suck his first cock, he offered his ass to that very same man. Trini revealed that she didn't have a significant other, preferring to sleep around.

"But I still hook up with my first every August 17^th. That was the date he took my brownie... that's what I called my ass-cherry. It's my true birthday. I don't even celebrate the actual date of my birth. I mean, who wants to eat birthday cake when you can suck a cock. But even if I had cake, there's no rule that says you can't eat your cake and have a cock too."

Sometimes children who never knew they were adopted, discover as adults that not only were they adopted, but also that they were adopted from a different culture altogether. They often develop a strong desire to engage with that culture and to connect with its people in the hopes that they may better define and understand themselves.

Subconscious thoughts flooded Ambrose' conscious mind. And, as had often been the case since he met Cassilda, he processed those thoughts almost as quickly as they came to him. The kinship he felt with Trini upon meeting her deepened to a point that he hadn't known he was capable of. Their stories were so different, he desperately wanted to know more about her and others like them both. He wanted to learn all the possible ways that people like them experienced their awakening.

He realized just how little he knew about this subculture. That's how he thought of it, "subculture." He wasn't sure if that was an acceptable term for it or if it was insulting; he suspected the latter. The word bothered him. Sub....culture. It seemed like it was too easily misconstrued as defining a "submissive" culture.

And with that thought, came another revelation as it brought to mind his attraction to the man that brutally stung his ass with a powerful sweep of an arm. In his recollection, the strong calloused hand contacted the soft, creamy, feminine flesh of his ass with the sound of a clap of thunder. He also recalled the heat left behind in the form of a painfully tingling handprint.

He had made it such a point to remember the address where the man worked; had even gone there with the intention of meeting him, only to hastily drive off in a panic when the man noticed him and walked over to meet him, with vulgar suggestions no doubt.

He no longer remembered the name of the business and he was sketchy on the address, for the man no longer held any fascination for him. He was in fact repulsed by the idea of ever being with him. His instinct to flee, like a frightened little animal, now seemed an appropriate response based on his true desire for love, and the full embrace of his femininity, as opposed to a cowardly retreat that at the time, made him wonder if he was missing out on something dangerously enticing.

With that came the thought of the masked man's improbably massive penis (surely through supernatural means). It still excited him, but much less than it had when he had first seen it, sucked on the head, licked the sweat and salt off the massive and balls, and greedily swigged and slurped the impossibly copious load of cum the man dropped.

"My god!" he thought as he remembered Cassilda rubbing her foot in the sticky mess on the floor and putting her toes in his mouth for him to lick every remnant from between them. He could never allow himself to sink that low again. There was also the time he felt the behemoth move beneath Cassilda's abdomen while his head rested on her belly.

While speaking to Trini, he pieced it all together. He wasn't really a submissive in the sexual sense, he just loved men. He loved their bodies, their hard cocks and he preferred to defer to them rather than submit to them or be subdued by them. Manuel just happened to be the ideal. His reaction to the masked man and the brute from the auto shop was merely the gushing out of a long-suppressed nature held under pressure too long.

His heart belonged to Manuel, and it always would. Manuel returning that love, was the single most validating thing in his entire life.

Forgetting the impending fate that hung above him, the yet to be sighted Yellow Sign, Ambrose decided then and there to come out to everyone in his life from his pre-Cassilda days, including his parents.

He did not want to hurt or mock his father with his newly freed femininity, further mortifying him by introducing a black man as his true love; a love whose strength surpassed that of his parent's love for each other. He was certain of that.

He was certain as well that he would be disowned and probably shunned not just by members of his immediate family but also by members of his extended family. But his happiness depended on not hiding who he was, on not sneaking around, fearful of being found out. It would be unfair to both himself, and Manuel. It seemed to him that hiding who he was and his relationship with Manuel would invalidate them both.

Trini, who was in the middle of running errands for her latest dom couldn't hang around much longer, to the disappointment of Ambrose who implored her to stay just a little bit longer. Manuel, sensing the intense curiosity in him, offered to treat them all to lunch.

"I can't. My current top is a little too strict. To be honest, I got all I could get out of being with him and I'm gonna move on soon, but these things have to be coordinated in a sub-dom relationship."

"See? I didn't know that. There's so much I need to know about... our people." Ambrose felt a little silly saying it out loud. "Like all the different ways people express themselves and how they found themselves..."

"Ambrose... Amanda, you don't need to know anymore than you already know. You're both in love with each other. He's obviously bigger and stronger than you. He's in charge and you follow his lead, but that's it. You're in a real relationship. It's not the kind of life I'd choose for myself, but you're obviously both happy and that's all that matters."

Trini and Ambrose exchanged phone numbers but not before Trini asked for Manuel's permission; a gesture that underscored how little Ambrose knew of "his people".

"Why would you ask his permission?" Ambrose wondered allowed.

"Strictly protocol. You guys don't seem to have a sub-Dom situation happening, but an outsider, especially another sub, never makes such an assumption."

Ambrose and Manuel's Lovemaking that night was particularly intense.

Manuel usually took the lead with Ambrose following along, except when they decided on doing it cowgirl. During sex they would sometimes fuck in the cowgirl position or the reverse cowgirl position, but when cowgirl style was decided before hand, they merely called it "cowgirl" as Manuel let Ambrose take the lead.

Ambrose liked starting cowgirl in the living room with a serious make out session that involved a lot of cuddling. They would then strip, Ambrose would sink to his knees, suck Manuel's cock and lick his balls. Then he'd rise, lick and apply kisses on his abdomen and pecs. When it was time to go to the bedroom, he especially loved grabbing Manuel's big cock with a small dainty hand and leading him away.

He shoved Manuel onto his back on the bed, with Manuel's cooperation of course. There were times when Manuel playfully defied him. Ambrose weak attempts to shove him for real were comical. Such was the imbalance of their relative size and strength.

Ambrose loved applying the lube to Manuel's cock, sliding up and down the shaft feeling every bit of the "veined terrain" as he liked to call it.

He climbed atop Manuel, reaching behind him to grab the big man's penis and teasing him by rubbing the tip of the head on his asshole a few times. His own small cock always twitched on first contact.

When he was done teasing, he eased himself down while Manuel held onto his hips. The momentary pressure before the head slipped in held its own delights as his asshole stretched and stretched until it was wide enough to accommodate him.

Ambrose eased himself down until the head passed his sphincter. He then slid down slowly, feeling the familiar pressure he had come to crave so much, until he fully sat on Manuel's groin.

"Oh daddy. I can't believe how much I love your cock."

He began by gyrating slowly and alternated that with rocking back and forth. Pretty soon, the big man was pumping himself in and out. Ambrose matched the rhythm for maximum effect.

Manuel hugged him close so they could kiss. Ambrose feminine soft belly and chest and his cute little girl cock contacted and mashed with Manuel's muscular body.

Manuel came hard with Ambrose following just a minute or so after.

He rested on the big man with labored breath, a coating of his own cum covering their bellies, creating a nice slick and sliding sensation as he clung to the big man.

After he caught his breath, he realized that Manuel's cock had not softened and was still in his ass.

Manuel spoke up, "Hey baby uh, do you think you're up for another round? We don't have to, or we can wait for a while."

Ambrose could feel a slight stirring in his girl cock. "I think I can go, but let's wait a while. BUT..." he added hurriedly, "don't pull out. I want to keep feeling your hard cock in my ass while I get in the mood."

Even accounting for the fact that Ambrose had just cum, it took unusually long for him to get hard. It's not that he couldn't, but rather it seemed to happen in tiny increments with Ambrose sharply aware of nothing else the entire time it took him to get hard.

When he achieved a full hardon he could stand it no more. He gyrated once, twice and on the third time he trembled and came with a loud lady-like moan.

"Goddamn baby, what was that?" Manuel hadn't even moved his own hips.

"I... don't... know..." Ambrose struggled to get the words out past labored gasps which should have been impossible for such a brief effort.

He soon recovered and laid atop Manuel silently with the big man's hard cock still in his ass.

Manuel tried to gently push Ambrose off, figuring he needed a break.

"What are you doing? You didn't cum."

"Yeah, but you did. Don't tell me you can go again. Can you?" Manuel said surprised.

"No. But you didn't cum. I can't have my daddy all excited with all that pent up energy. I have to take care of you."

"No..." said Manuel seriously, "you really don't. I mean, if you don't feel it... I'm fine. You're... special to me, we don't need to do something you don't want." Although he fully meant it, it seemed awkward. He had never been in such a situation with someone he cared about.

"What I want to do is take care of my man. Don't you want to keep fucking my sweet ass?" The way Ambrose asked suggested that he would not accept a kind and considerate lie. He wanted a forthright, though softspoken truth.

"You know I do, but..."

"But nothing," said Ambrose as he began to buck and grind and tense and relax his asshole.

His concern for Ambrose quickly forgotten, Manuel got into it.

During the entire time they fucked, Ambrose felt no sexual pleasure at all. But he did feel ecstasy. He was buoyed by the idea that he was taking care of his big, strong man, just as he should. It was a new level of happiness and intimacy that bordered on bliss and euphoria.

Freed from the need for sexual gratification at that moment, an electrifying warmth suffused his entire body. He was lost in some wilderness of emotional intoxication. Barely aware of his body and the large cock that slammed into his asshole. He continued his rhythmic pumps and gyrations absent mindedly synchronizing with Manuel's actions.

He now had a keener appreciation of how deeply he loved Manuel. It was almost on a cellular level.

It took Manuel a while, and though he was lost in a world of his own, he instinctively knew that Manuel had cum. He returned safely back to earth and the present. He kissed and cradled Manuel's head when the big man stopped convulsing.

"God damn Miss Amanda. What the hell was that? It's like you got lost somewhere."

Ambrose rolled off Manuel and onto his back exposing very erect nipples which he covered against the pain of the naked air. There were goosebumps all over his body.

"I... think... I... think..." he struggled to catch his breath in big gulps, "I... think... I... felt your... own sexual gratification... and your... love."

He paused, "I felt what you felt. I don't mean I felt the same way you did, I felt what you felt, and I felt your love..."

He followed up, reluctantly with: "I felt it through your..."

"My what?"

"I felt it through your cock. It was like an electric connection. I know that sounds really stupid and maybe insane, but that's what I felt. My god. I had no clue such a thing was possible."

Tears began to well up in his eyes.

Manuel cradled him and held him close and tight. "I love you. I've never loved anyone like I love you, my sweet Ambrose Sweet."

The tears flowed freely upon hearing Manuel call him by his birth name. "Miss Amanda" always had the feel of denoting a fantasy version of himself, even if slight. By calling him "Ambrose Sweet" Ambrose understood that he was no longer that fantasy. Manuel had fully accepted the totality of him.

Manuel would continue to call him "Miss Amanda," but it would carry an air of respect and cherishment.

As usual, they went to bed with Ambrose curled up in Manuels arms. It was different than all the times they had previously slept that way in a strongly palpable way.

In the morning, they headed down to the city for Sunday brunch at a spot that they had come to like. When the talk turned to the future, as it often did, Ambrose advised Manuel of his decision to come out to his family and friends.

"Baby, do you really want to do that? What you said about your dad. That could be trouble. He doesn't sound like the kind of guy I'd get along with, but you love him and I'd be OK with you hiding everything from them. Maybe give it some more thought."

"No," Ambrose said flatly. "It's possible to know someone before you even meet them. I've known you my entire life, we just never met before Carcosa. I was so good at hiding who I was that even I couldn't find myself and my dad is the reason. I was not a happy person, and I took so much out on so many people."

Ambrose thought for a moment. "I'm only going to be Amanda always from now on. I mean to everyone. But you still have to call me 'Miss Amanda'."

Manuel was visibly touched. As nice and gentle as he was, he felt the need to fight back tears.

Ambrose noticed and blushed.

"You'll always be my Miss Amanda. My little Miss Amanda."

Manuel began clumsily fishing in the pocket of his sports jacket.

"I made a decision a little while back that I had planned to spring on you sometime next week. But after last night... I just can't wait."

He pulled out a light blue jewelry box.

The moment she saw it, Amanda was overcome with emotion. Her hands flew up to cup her own face in amazement. The tears began to well up almost immediately.

Manuel's chair made a loud noise as he stood up and pushed it away from him, causing some attention to come his way. There was a hush among the other diners when he got on one knee and presented the jewelry box to Amanda, and opened it to reveal an engagement ring.

"Miss Amanda, will you marry me."

Amanda gushed out "Of course I will, you silly man."

When Manuel freed the ring from the case, Amanda held out her hand and presented her ring finger as if she had been dreaming of this moment her entire life.

Manuel slid the diamond ring onto Amanda's hand, who stretched it out to admire its fit and the way it glittered on her finger. Amanda held Manuel's face in her hands and planted a long deep kiss on him while the other diners applauded.

When Manuel sat down, they both had sheepish expressions on their faces.

In a few minutes, they waiter came by with a somewhat pricey bottle of champaign and pointed to two men dining at a nearby table.

"This is courtesy of those two gentlemen over there."

The two men waved at them and lifted their own glasses in a cheer.

Manuel touched his own heart in gratitude while Amanda waved as they both mouthed "Thank you."

There were offers to pay for their meal from other diners, but Manuel refused.

"Please explain that I don't want anyone to suspect we did this for a free meal," he told the waiter. "I want them to know that I love the hell out of this woman."

They spent the rest of the morning and the afternoon doing some of the touristy things that natives from the city, or in Amanda's case, people who are overly familiar with it, almost never do.

As they headed to Grand Central Station to grab a Metro North train home. They both inexplicably had a strong desire to go to Carcosa.

This urge, thick in its darkness, drained all the joy drained from them. The heaviness of the moment stung deeper as they each divulged this compulsion to the other.

Amanda couldn't imagine what was going on in Manuel's mind, but she had never felt such dread ever in her life.