'Maternal Care', Segment VI

“So you’ve had a busy day. Your bath must have felt very nice.”

Derrick sits naked, penis remaining firm. He remains somewhat lightheaded. It is a pleasant lightheadedness, not like the few times he’s had too much to drink and anticipates passing out or vomiting.

Nanny has requisitioned a bar stool from the basement wine cellar. A foggy minded Derrick realizes the strong woman of color has been in the house for hours before his arrival, the master bath well prepared with fragrant bathing soap, the depilatory solution at the ready, a chamois not before seen in wait for his soak. So he sits, propped on the front edge, wrists remaining behind his back.   

“It was... so... relaxing...” searching for words.

“That’s what a Nanny does... for good boys. You suckled very nicely. Did you like the taste?”

“Yes... yes... honey. And something else... and... well... you have...”

“Firm breasts,” Nanny completing his thoughts as her hands move to Derrick’s captive wrists. “Now you’ll feed better sitting back. Again, be a good boy for your Nanny. When I unclip your wrists just bring your arms forward and lay them on the arm rests. Very simple. Be obedient.”

The words are kind but firm. Derrick notes that as a precaution, Nanny’s free hand lowers and again grasps his scrotum. A gentle squeeze sends her message of authority... and the threat of quick and painful punishment for any shenanigans.

“I can feed myself,” Derrick objects in hearing the click of release.

“You can... but you won’t. Not while I’m in charge. And I’m very much in charge,” her grip tightening.

With a yelp, Derrick draws his arms about, placing on the bar stool arm rests as instructed. For the first time he notes the bar stool has been augmented, looped about the arms left and right are what appear to be chains... collars for a small dog. As he ponders, Nanny facilely clips right wrist then left, securing his arms to the chains.

“Sit back, make yourself comfortable.”

Mind in a haze, Derrick slides his bare buttocks toward the seat back, his spine supported by the stool. In so doing his testicles are released and Nanny quickly stoops. Derrick learns there are more modifications to the stool. Ankle cuffs, broad strips of foam lined nylon are buckled in place, ensuring he is one with the stool. For the first time he feels the circle of metal implanted near his rectum, sensing that he is sitting on something. He squirms. Nanny notes.

“You’ll get used to it... all my boys do,” chuckling in knowing that acclimating to chastity forced by a presiding woman requires more mental and emotional transformation then physical. 

Nanny reaches to assure the wrist restraints are properly restrictive, then announces...

“There, my boy is ready for feeding time. So Derrick, you like suckling your Nanny? If you’re good you can have that every day... just step in the door, disrobe for me and place your wrists in bondage. Cable ties are cheap. These will be cut off before you go to work... and you’ll have a new set in wait when your return home.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the humble reply bringing Derrick to have second thoughts.

“That’s yes Nanny,” the obeisant reply bringing a smile.

“Will you... well... that stuff... your concoction?..”

“My special honey? My, my addicted already. Yes, you will suckle that as well. Put you in a nice tranquil state of mind.”

Nanny ponders if and when she should divulge that her concoction is laced with ketamine, a complex compound with numerous medical uses... as an anesthetic... as a mood altering anti depressant... a wonder drug which doctors and psychologists are still experimenting with and finding new uses. Hazardous when ingested with alcohol, one of Nanny’s first imperatives was to secure all the household wine and liquor. The supervising women in the office will ensure nothing inebriating is imbibed during the day.      

Wrists and ankles restrained, Nanny stands before her charge, marveling at how accurately wife Margaret assessed her truckling husband. Combative... but seeming only for show... veiling his submissiveness and his latent desire to serve and please... his fetish for large breasted women really just a cry for being mothered. And that Derrick Mason shall have.

“You sit. I have something for you... takes a minute to prepare,” a hand reaches forth, going to the hairless chest, almost all body hair washed down the tub drain after an hour of soaking in the depilatory.

As she toys with a nipple, bringing a foolish giggle, Nanny questions if Derrick realizes how long the ketamine put him in la la land. She is quick with the Prince Albert piercing... after ringing so many penises. But the guiche about the perineum is cumbersome, having to position the buttocks, cheeks held well parted, jabbing the perfect tuft of flesh about the rectum.