Dexter Chronicles

Writer's Note: We return to the Dexter Estate and peek in as Claire Winslow prepares her young charge, Robert Dexter, for his mother's return from the FemTech weekend. For the type of intimacy his mother has in mind, it's important to be squeaky clean. Don't you agree?

Remember; don't forget to stay in touch.

Mysty

The Sue Dexter Chronicles — Chapter Ten

***

While Erica Olmsted was concluding the Question and Answer session at the Friday night FemTech pre-princk lecture at one of FemTech's field offices, the festivities at the Dexter Estate continued.

***

Claire Winslow came back from the bathroom with the fully loaded enema bag in her delicate strong hands.

"Help me think, Robert," Claire teased. "Where were we? Oh, yes … it's time for your little cleansing enema. I don't think you're going to like this; after all you've complained about everything else we've done. Oh, well. Maybe you'll surprise me."

Claire walked behind Robert and attached the bag to a little stand she had set up and then attached the open end of the bag's tubing to the enema nozzle that was still stuck in Robert's anus. "Hmm," she said as she rotated and sodomized him a bit with the large nozzle. "Let's get this in good and deep and … hmm … tight. We don't want any yucky leaking, do we?"

"Please Claire. Please, please stop. Ow! Let me go. Oh, Claire," Robert implored.

"Here comes the nice warm water, Robert. Just let it in. Don't fight it," Claire said as she released the clamp on the hose allowing the simple natural force of gravity drain the contents of the bag into his tender bowels.

"Arghg. No, no, no, no! Stop! Oh, noooo!"

Claire walked around in front of him and amused herself by watching Robert squirm. She had seen this before. His eyes were squeezed shut, partially in shame, as if by closing his eyes, Claire and his nightmare would disappear. His face went from humiliation to shock and eventually to pain and a deepening grimace spread across him as the soapy mixture began to cause some initial cramping.

"Okay, Robert. Time for your banding." She knelt down behind him and selected an appropriately sized band (quite small), slid it open (which activated the micro-slivers), grabbed his little testicle sack between her middle and index finger of her left hand, and scissored her fingers together and twisted counter-clockwise while pulling down and away from his body. Robert screamed in pain.

"What a little baby you are, Robert," she contemptibly commented."

With her right hand, she placed the open band against the tautness of his stretched skin that connected his balls to his groin. She looked at the incredibly fine, almost invisible sharp little micro-slivers looking for male flesh to attach to and invade. "Soon, soon, my little helpers," she hummed happily. Then she said to Robert, "With this ring, you do bind yourself to FemTech, your heart and your soul. Of course, once your loving mother feeds you from her 'staff of life' you will be bound to her, as well." She then clicked the locking band in place.

"No, no, noooo!" wailed Robert. "Take it off, take it off!"

"You know, Robert, only technicians from FemTech's home office can remove that little band, but why should they? It lets us know where you are. We don't ever, ever want to lose you, you know. And Robert, after twenty-four hours, if you or we take it off, your balls and penis will never work again. And if it comes off after thirty-six hours, around Sunday at 10:00 A.M., you'll die a slow agonizing death. You'll be disabled within seconds if it's removed. I've seen it happen; and your death can't be stopped, only observed. I know it's cruel, but we do it because we want you under our control and believe me, you are!" Emphasizing her last remark, she wrapped her slender fingers around his balls and gave him a sharp squeeze until he shrieked in agony.

"Yahhh!" Robert gasped and tears rushed to his reddening face. "Ugh, ugghk! Noooo! Please!"

***

After Robert had regain his composure, Claire came back in the room and sat in front of him cross-legged with her skirt drawn high on her thighs exposing her garter belts and lacey stocking tops. She just sat there, watched him stare at her legs, and smiled to herself. "How are you feeling, Robert."

"My stomach hurts real bad."

"Okay, Robert. I think your bowels are clean enough now. Let's get you to the bathroom so you can get rid of that nasty soapy water." She reached behind her back and showed him the thick obedience collar that she had brought back into the room with her.

"This little device, Robert, snaps around your neck and contracts if you give me any trouble, any trouble at all. It's voice activated only by my voice and I won't mind using it to choke you," she said matter-of-factly. "You've been very disobedient and I think you'll be finding out how this works." And with that comment she opened the collar, punched a code into its inner lining activating it, and placed around his neck. He meekly let her do it, and she thought about the little additive that she had used to supplement his enema. She watched him looking at her stockinged legs as she wiggled closer to put a final adjustment to the collar. The "female" end of the collar slipped into the worm gear of the "male" end of the collar and Claire very softly said, "Tighten." The sound of solid gears quietly whirring could be heard as the collar quickly and efficiently tightened. Just before Robert could cry out, Claire said, "Cease," and the tightening stopped at just the right compression.

"Claire, it's too tight."

"No, Robert, it's supposed to be tight" She felt its degree of snugness and said, "Yes, just exactly like that to remind you of your vulnerability. Now, let's get you out of some of these bindings so that you can go and sit on the toilet. You would like that wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes, Claire. Yes! Please, please let me go to the bathroom!"

And this is how it works, she thought to herself. It's so simple. I have him begging me to permit him to carry out a simple bodily function like going to the bathroom. Pretty soon he'll be begging his mother to feed him some of her sacred princkjuices so that he can stay alive. Hmmm, so easy, so very easy.

***

Claire stood up and casually stretched her remarkably lithe form. It was an inadvertent movement that completely held Robert's attention. Clare took a few steps and positioned herself behind her young ward. "First Robert, let's dispense with this annoying little nozzle thing," she said as she casually tapped it in a little deeper with her fingertips.

"Argg!"

"Let's replace it with something that doesn't stick so far out, so I won't bump into it so often," she said tapping it in still further.

"Argg! Please!"

"Ah, here's what I want." She leaned over him and dangled a thick tapered butt plug in front of Robert's face.

"What ... what are you going to do with that ... thing?"

"I'm going to keep you from embarrassing yourself after I remove the nozzle." She then applied some lubricating jelly to the butt plug and deftly placed it in his rear end at the same time that she withdrew the nozzle. "You didn't spill a drop. I'm so proud of you, Robert."

Robert began to cry with new pain as the plug spread him wider, or maybe it was just the humiliation.

Claire moved about Robert and began to undo the bindings that held him to the bottom of the top of his mother's dressing table. He had been there so long that he simply fell to the floor when those bindings released. Then, with him in that weakened state, she attached the elastic ankle strap so that his legs would be bound to permit walking but not kicking. And then, of course, she used the FemTech standard binding of the arms behind the back, tied at the elbows and wrists. A bit painful and unnecessary in light of the control collar, but with a purpose — an assurance of total obedience. "Okay little guy, off to the bathroom."

Claire grabbed Robert under his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. For the first few steps he staggered trying to regain his sense of balance. His insides raged from the soapy mixture churning in his guts, but he was able to really look at Claire for the first time. She seemed so gentle in nature, and extraordinarily beautiful. Just like his mother, only smaller, and with the same cruel streak.

As they approached the toilet Claire offered, "Okay, Robert, take a seat."

"Leave, Claire."

She spun him around facing her with his back to the toilet, stepped with her left foot on his ankle tether and struck him hard with the palm of her right hand on his puny chest causing him to take an immediate and painful seat on the toilet. She leaned down toward him and hissed in his face, "Don't you ever tell me what to do again, you little rich creep or I'll slash your balls off and feed them to you while you bleed to death. Do you understand? Answer me!"

"Er, er, ... yes, yes, I ... I do."

She placed her right high-heeled foot on the front of the toilet seat and shoved the toe forward — hard — into his balls and penis. He gasped in pain.

"This is all the privacy you're going to get."

Robert, wincing in pain, looked up at her. "Oh, god! Please Claire, please stop. It hurts so bad!"

She gave her foot one ... last ... extra thrust, reached forward, grabbed him by his hair with her left hand and wrenched his face to hers. "Robert, don't ever give me an instruction!" And with that she slapped him so hard that that he saw stars, lost consciousness and slumped forward against her stockinged leg. "Wow, what a baby," she thought

She stepped back, but held on to his hair as he fell to the floor. She then picked his slender body up, turned him around, stuck his face in the toilet and flushed it. The sound and the spray jolted him back to life and he tried to back out of the toilet, but she pinned him with a knee to his back. "Behave, Robert. Submit, Robert. Surrender, Robert and I will let you survive our encounter. Robert, I have killed more then once with my bare hands," and she clenched them around his throat below the control collar.

"Aechheggh. No, no, please."

She gradually relented, nearly lost in the urge to crush his aching larynx. She exhaled to calm herself and then stepped back and hissed, "Keep your head down in there!" He did.

***

She surveyed the scene. Robert's head was in the toilet and the butt plug was in his ass. Somehow things seemed a bit out of order. "Okay, Robert. Stand up." He did.

I'm going to take the butt plug out and you're going to sit on the toilet and poop. If you drip any on the floor I'm going to make you lick it up, and if you disobey me I'm going to stick your head in the toilet when it has all your poop in it. Understand?"

"Yes, Claire. ... Oh, Claire. Please, I'm only asking. But, please, oh please, can I be standing right over the toilet when the butt plug come out? Please, oh please, I don't want to mess the floor. My stomach hurts so bad, I don't know if I'll ... be ... able (sob) ... to ... do ... it (sob)... right," he earnestly cried and sputtered.

"Yes, Robert, I'll do that."

She took him by his shoulders and gently guided him back a few mincing steps so that his butt was over the toilet. "Now bend down as far as you can go without sitting down." He did.

She reached around behind him, with her right hand grasped the plug by a little ring, and with her left hand spread his cheeks apart. Then, with a firm steady pull she popped the plug free and pushed him down on the seat. A gush of foul smelling mixture flooded into the bowl from his bowels. Robert gasped from fear and relief.

"Did I spill any?" he timidly asked.

"No, I don't think so. That's because I let you stand right over the toilet."

"Oh, Claire. Thank you, thank you," he almost swooned in relief and submissiveness.

Claire turned the fan on and flushed the toilet a few times. She looked at him; she was feeling larger and he was looking smaller. That's the way it always happened. Their relationship was coming into proper perspective, slowly but inexorably.

"Okay, Robert. Hop into the shower," she said rolling out some paper towels for him to walk on. "No dripping! Keep it clenched, Robert!" He did.

She reached in, turned the shower on, and adjusted it so it was just the right temperature. The warm water rained down upon him, and she started lathering him up, all of him, with warm slippery soap. First his legs and feet, then his chest and face, as the warm water washed the soap off of his small body. Then his rump and genitals ... special attention to his rump and genitals. She inserted the middle finger of her right hand into his tight bottom and then began with her left hand to gently and expertly massage and pull at his little penis.

"No! Claire, stop! No!" shouted Robert as the sexual stimulation began to overcome his senses.

"Tighten," purred Claire, and the quiet whirring of the collar began. A flash of panic crossed Robert's face and his eyes began to roll back up in his head. He twisted his neck in futility to escape the slow steadily increasing constriction around his throat. Slowly he slumped to his knees in the shower and looked around to Claire whose finger was still thrust up his anus and whose left hand firmly gripped his slender little penis. He was mouthing the words "please" but no sounds were able to escape his lips.

Claire arched her eyes and examined him as a technician might examine a little white mouse. "Cease," she said with some disappointment at not allowing her clever little mechanical assistant from fully carrying out its task; then "Release," and then after a few seconds, "Cease," and the collar resumed its previous level of contraction.

After a few seconds Robert came around and Claire began again to manipulate his anus and penis. Robert was terrified and even though he had worked his way only back up to his knees, he was in constant danger of falling over from the force of his shaking and blubbering.

Gradually, under her expert hands, his little penis began to get hard and his shaking stopped quite a bit. Slowly, he began to enter the enchantment of her fingers and his hips began to tentatively rock and then thrust against them, first forward then back. As she sensed his coming close to achieving sexual release, she suddenly withdrew her fingers from their work and simply smiled at him as he thrust towards where they had been.

"There, Robert, that wasn't so bad was it?" she asked.

She took a large fluffy towel and dried him and her arms off and then helped him out of the shower and led him into his mother's bedroom. "Robert, let's play a little game." Claire sat on the edge of his mother's bed and crossed her long shapely legs, pulling her skirt up into her lap. Her stockings, garters and lacy underwear were exposed. "Here Robert," she said as she slightly raised her legs over his elastic ankle strap and pulled him toward her so that each of his legs was on one side of her legs. "Closer." She said as she gripped his slender hips with her hands and drew him closer until his balls and penis began to just brush the top of her stocking-clad crossed legs. Robert gasped.

"Here's the game, Robert. Your mother said that I could do your penile piercings with out any anesthetic. That means that I can drive a stud through your penis without using any painkiller."

"No, no, please Claire, please."

"Shush, Robert. But if you can rub against my stocking with out having your little penis squirt, I will use a painkiller so it won't hurt you. How about that? Do you think you can keep from having your penis spray its little juices? "

"I, ... I... don't know."

"Well, let's find out." Claire kept a firm grip on his little hips and drew her feet closer to her so that her thighs rose higher and tighter up into his groin and Robert was forced to his tiptoes. She then began to push and pull him so that his balls and penis slid back and forth against her silky firm smooth legs. She watched as he both grimaced and almost swooned at the sensations he experienced.

"Piecing a male's penis, especially its round little head can be excruciatingly painful for him."

"Oh, god, Claire, please stop. You're making me ... oh ... do it! Please stop!"

But Claire had no intention of stopping. Instead she drew her feet closer to her and her thighs pressed even more firmly up against his penis and balls. She watched him as his face screwed up tightly and he bit his lip to try to keep from cuming.

"Robert, Robert?"

"Yes, y … ye ... yes, Claire?"

"These black lacy stockings that I'm wearing. Look at them."

Robert looked down at Claire's amazingly shapely silk-clad legs.

Claire continued to stroke Robert's genitals against her leg, pulling him forward and back. "These black lacy stockings that I'm wearing, Robert, they're your mother's. And these panties ... these panties ... (Claire released her right hand's grip from Robert's pelvis and held up a tiny pair of soiled black lacey panties in front of Robert's face) ... these panties are also your mother's." She squeezed them into a tight efficient wad and jammed them into Robert's gasping mouth. Robert's eyes bugged wide and he gasped again, involuntarily tasting and inhaling his mother's beloved genital discharges.

"Ahhh! Ohh! Ahh! Ohhh!" Robert squealed as his little penis vigorously squirted its minor contents on Claire's magnificent leg.

"Oh, god, no! Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes, oh, yes! Sorry, little guy. You lost the bet; your little penis betrayed you."

Robert's eyes began to fill with tears.

"Oh, well, Robert," Claire said while pulling Sue's panties from his mouth, "I guess all that masturbation with your mother's stockings and panties must have over-sensitized you to them. Don't worry, though, FemTech will make sure that your penis, if your mother lets you keep it, is always under control and well behaved."

Robert began sobbing and looked imploringly into Claire's eyes. But Claire wasn't looking at him; she was surveying the scene. Particularly the small splotch of sticky fluid adorning the thigh of her right leg

"Oh, Robert, please clean up that little mess."

When he honestly didn't seem to understand what to do, Claire gently, but firmly, grabbed him by his hair and lowered his face to the little puddles of cloudy boy-fluids on her thigh and said, "Lick." He strained his face up to her, she nodded down at her thigh, and he began to lick and suck the fluids and immature sperm from her leg.

"Oh, Robert, dear, as long as you're down there keep going," and she guided him up toward the gossamer thin silk panties barely covering her sopping wet vagina. The supple gauzy black fabric contoured each curve and fold of her sweet vaginal lips and his tongue, as small as it was, was still able to push the fabric forward into her while he sucked and lick and nuzzled her. She expertly directed him forward so that the bridge of his nose sawed against her clitoris. "Ummmm ... yum." With a hand on each ear she moved his facial features to just ... the ... right ... spots, and her legs spread wide ... wider ... his slavish ministrations soon rocketed her into a wilderness of exploding colors. As she screamed in unabashed delight her juices, barely deterred, seeped through her filmy thin panties and flooded over his face,. Robert, for his part, was learning how to how to hold his breath to survive female orgasms and their aftermath.

Claire eventually released her grip on his ears and he collapsed, gasping for air on the floor beneath her spread legs.

"Oh, Robert, your mother was right, sooo right. You are a natural little pussy licker! Yum, yum, yum!

Claire stood up, snagged her panties, pulled them out from between her vaginal lips and straightened her skirt. "Well, Robert. Let's get busy. The nose piercing first."

Robert just cried and cried.

***

The Sue Dexter Chronicles — End of Chapter Ten

ã 2005 MystyMason

Any comments welcomed. Contact Mysty at mystymason172@hotmail.com