Saturday, July 30, 2022

'Maternal Care', Segment IX

This will be the final posted segment. The story has been published. See the July 28th 2022 posting.

CB

*****

Derrick awakens. He knows not the time. Is it daylight? With the room intended to be a nursery for a child that never came, wife Margaret had the windows boarded over. For some reason it never came to mind to remove. Derrick now suffers the consequences, to lie in the dimness without cognition of relative time.  

What has happened to him? What is happening to him? 

In testing his restraints, arms and legs flailing, such are not to yield.

He recalls the craziness of Friday, learning of his aunt’s will... the bequeathment of company stock and much cash to a trust... the voting control of the corporation essentially going to his frivolous wife... her first act as trustee to fly off on extended vacation... where the locals sing, dance and fuck all night!

Derrick seethes. But then recalls coming home... greeted by the mysterious woman of color... a nurse... a nanny... his Nanny! Oddly, it becalms, thinking of the privilege of suckling her breasts... enacting what he so often has fantasized about during hours of viewing internet porn.

But it’s not right! A captive in his own home... his anger broiling.

Adding to his anger and frustration... a wet diaper. It’s cool, it’s irritating, his own acidic excretions chafing skin brought to sensitivity. By being bathed! A woman bathed me! His infuriation peeking in thinking about the depilating tub water.  

Distraction. The bedroom door opens. A switch clicks. The room glows in bright lights. 

“How did my boy sleep?” a matronly voice coos.

“Get in here! Release me!”

Nanny knows immediately that the ketamine has subsided. She is prepared.

“That’s not how you talk to your Nanny... the woman who cares for you.”

“I’m wet... and locked up!”

“And you may stay that way... unless you calm down and be polite. You need to learn, Derrick, in this house everything now comes from me... the woman in charge of you.”

Nanny approaches. Going to the top left corner of the mattress, she reaches and with a simple flick of her finger, the cable tie for the right wrist is released.

Derrick instantly retracts his arm, folding and moving about to alleviate the cramping, then reaches over to release his left wrist. Rebuke comes quickly, Nanny’s hand going to the right nipple, both pinching and twisting to bring a stab of pain and a yelp.  

“Don’t ever touch your bonds. I will decide when to release you. I am your nanny. I am in charge.”

The pinch ends but thumb and finger remain in place as a warning. Derrick knows to still himself as demanded, relaxing his arm, ending his effort to free himself, another pinch threatened.

“Now I have something for a good boy,” free hand going to the blouse of her white uniform.

Derrick sees the hand move, hears the rip of Velcro. He calms himself indeed, recalling yesterday’s offering... breasts of size and firmness, rounded globes of perfection. His heart leaps as the folds part, the bra of half cups bringing inviting reddish-brown nipples into the bright room light.

Nanny smiles with the reaction... a child gaping at a huge ice cream sundae.

“Don’t move.”

In strolling to the top right corner of the mattress, Nanny doffs her blouse, nude from the waist up but for her revealing brassiere. She sits on the right side of the bed, positioning herself such that her boy Derrick can ogle, widening eyes inches from nipples so covetously suckled.

“Now, if I release your left wrist, would you like to reward yourself for being a good boy... staying still for me... letting yourself be properly nurtured?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Nanny smiling as the reply comes with a gasp of desperation.

“And there’s more,” Nanny’s hand going to the pocket of her uniform skirt, extracting the small jar known to contain sweet gooeyness once before savored. 

Fingers work. The bra is cast aside. Nanny enjoys the mesmerized look on her boy as the jar is opened, a finger dips and nipples right and left are brought to glisten invitingly in the bright lights.

“Just look... for now,” the coated finger going to Derrick’s lips.

Derrick knows to part his lips and cleanse... so much hoping for more... gazing in adoration... the broad shoulders... the flat stomach. Nanny is a sculpture... glands of perfection.

“You shouldn’t greet your Nanny so brusquely, Derrick. This is what good boys get,” rolling her shoulders, the firm sticky nipples swaying about. “Are you going to be a good boy?” 

“Oh, yes Nanny.”

“Then still stay. I am in control. You want me to be in control.”

The left cable tie is finally released. Derrick fights temptation but lies still, salivating. Nanny finally leans forth, arms extending, hands cradling her boy’s head, gently pulling to lift from the mattress, face going to her left breast.

“Licky, licky,” her tone one for toddlers, left hand and forearm wrapped about the back of his head.

There need be no further encouragement. Derrick licks then engulfs, taking in as much of the nipple and breast meat as possible. It comes to mind that the only thing moving under his own auspices is his tongue, all else controlled by his Nanny. 

“And no biting. Avoid the need for dental work,” index finger of the right hand tapping the nose in warning.

More ketamine... less defiance... tranquility to be restored as morning ablutions and further introduction to feminine governance and the strict protocols demanded of the diapered male will continue.

Though wife Margaret probably sleeps after a late night of partying with the well endowed native island boys, Nanny has taken the time to turn on the video recorder before entering and engaging in Derrick’s first diaper change. She knows it can be a satisfying scene for the women Derrick Mason has insulted... disparaging with his lascivious stares... neglecting husbandly duties for his wife. Perhaps the recording will even bring exhilaration.  

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