Dexter Chronicles

Writer's Note: Have you been watching TV lately?

The Sue Dexter Chronicles — Chapter Thirteen

"Hello. This is Bill Midford with Claudia Ashton broadcasting live on location from Bourbonnais at the opening of the latest FemTech Field Office. "

"Claudia, because of the national publicity concerning FemTech's successful litigation over this Field Office, we're not surprised at the large and noisy demonstrations here this afternoon."

"Yes, Bill. The religious right and a number of statewide and national men's organizations really fought hard against the placement of this Field Office, but the Court had the final say and determined, somewhat reluctantly, that the Sexual Freedoms Act specifically permitted FemTech to open this office on the same block as a public school!"

"You're so right, Claudia. And despite the opposition of most of the people comprising this enormous crowd, we expect the ribbon cutting to go forward right on time at 3:05 P.M., five minutes from now.

"You know, Bill, there are small numbers of FemTech supporters here too. Off to our left, there's the established group called M ³ , the Modern Mothers Movement, as well as a number of radical female supremacy groups, as well."

"I'd have to say, Claudia, that the Sheriff's Department is doing a pretty good job protecting the small number of FemTech supporters from the mass of angry protesters. I expect that with emotions running as high as they are, people could get hurt."

"Well, Bill. As we have seen before, often it's the anti-FemTech protesters who wish they had been protected from the FemTech supporters and not the other way around. The FemTech women, "princkmistresses," I think they're called, typically work their way through the crowds and they seem to know how to take care of themselves and their supporters pretty well."

"Here comes the green and yellow FemTech van, Claudia. Let's see if we can recognize who's here for FemTech. The first out of the van is ... I believe ... Dr. Mary Beth Rouse. She's one of the FemTech national directors, and was quite a soccer star a few years ago, good enough to make the Olympic, national and professional teams. You know, Claudia, she almost looks feminine."

"Bill, I'm not sure I understand your comment. I think she looks very feminine, indeed."

Mary Beth Rouse, M.D., stepped out of the FemTech service van's passenger side sliding door and placed a long, shapely leg to the ground, pausing to let the photographers take their pictures for the evening's internet reports and next day's newspapers. She was in all ways very feminine, very feminine indeed, with beautiful features and a timeless grace. Her long raven hair blew in the afternoon breeze as she walked calmly toward the newly converted Field Office, and her short double-sided slit skirt exposed her stocking garters and the athletic form of her thighs as she took each confident step forward. Right along side of her was Kathy Beal, a strikingly attractive young woman who appeared to be about nineteen years old and doing her best to look as assured as Dr. Rouse, but was having trouble doing so because she had to hurry so much to match Dr. Rouse's quick pace.

"What I meant, Claudia, was that because of Dr. Rouse's gender abnormalities, I'm surprised that she can pass as a woman, at all."

The police had formed a phalanx of officers on each side of the sidewalk leading to the Field Office's front door. A Field Office ribbon cutting was always a simple affair: two FemTech representative walked to the new facility's ribbon, one FemTech Security Officer always stayed in the van, dozens of media representatives and police, and a varied number of demonstrators, sometimes dozens, hundreds and sometimes thousands. This Field Office was quite large, even larger than the neighboring elementary school, and the timing of the ribbon cutting would correspond with the school children being let out of their classes. FemTech loved children and wanted them to see how adults behaved around FemTech enhanced women.

"Bill, I hate to say this, but you sound a bit prudish. What you call "abnormalities" are simply improved versions of the skimpy genital portions men typically have."

The protesters were always emboldened by FemTech's considered lack of numbers, and today was no exception. As Mary Beth Rouse and her niece moved toward the ribbon a large muscular man in slacks and a tight short sleeve shirt stepped out between two officers and stood in Dr. Rouse's path. The crowd cheered as Dr. Rouse came to a stop and the man pressed his large left hand flat against her upper chest immediately above her well-defined breasts.

"Sorry to interrupt your perverted little lecture, Claudia, but I think this event is going to get quite interesting. Isn't that the Bears' rookie TE Greg Moriski standing in front of Dr. Rouse?"

Dr. Rouse raised her left hand and looked at her watch. She hated to have these ribbon cuttings delayed. Punctuality was important to her and she had appointments to keep later in the afternoon. She looked at the face of the large man standing in front of her (noticed his leering, unintelligent eyes), then at his thick shoulder and the large hairy arm spanning the distance from that shoulder to his meaty hand. He stood about six four and two hundred forty pounds, she estimated. The man played to the crowd, grinning in a goofy little-boy proud sort of way. "They're all just little boys," Rouse thought to herself. The police stood frozen by the rashness of the man's actions and were also a little put off by his size.

"Yes, it is, Claudia, it's Greg Moriski. Well, I guess this building might be one FemTech present that doesn't get its ribbon cut and opened after all."

"He shouldn't do that, Bill!"

Dr. Rouse tapped the man's left arm, got his attention, and then nodded towards her chest. "Remove your hand, and step away," she politely but firmly stated. The man simply leaned a little into her and laughed. "Why don't you do something about it, you little freak bitch! Get out of our part of the world!"

Dr. Rouse shrugged her shoulders and slowly, very slowly brought her hands towards the center of her chest where his hand rested with his palm upon the foothills of her creamy white breasts.

"What's the matter, Claudia?" Bill asked. "Do you really like those hybrid woman-things?"

"Bill, it's not a question of liking them or not. What Moriski's doing is against the law! It's illegal to interfere with the establishment of any institution, business or enterprise that supports or enables the expression of sexual freedom. But the police are doing nothing about it and it's not right. They should help her, Bill!"

As Dr. Rouse's hands approached her chest, she gently caressed the back of his hand and, for a moment, he lifted it an inch or two from her chest. And in the same quiet instant each of her hands snaked forward ... her right hand firmly clasped the pinky finger of his left hand and her left hand grasped the index finger of his left hand ... and instantly and viciously rotated both forward and to the side until clear audible snapping noises could be heard. Then, holding his hand to her breasts, she bent forward at the waist driving him down until his face, grimacing with the pain in his hand, was level with her waist. As she suspected, his right hand was placed flat on the sidewalk to balance him and keep him from going further down. But further down was what she had in mind for him. With a remarkable conservation of movement and energy, she stomped with the strength of a professional soccer player on the back of his right hand breaking three fingers in his right hand and many of the small bones in the back of that hand. She then released his left hand, grabbed the back of his head and yanked it towards her while at the same time arching back and driving her right knee into his face. The blood spurted from his nose as he staggered, still bent over, to his feet. She stepped back and kicked hard, very hard into his face again, straightening his upper body, and then just as hard into his groin. He tottered back balancing himself. Then, staggering forward, he was an open target and she lashed out with her muscular legs and kicked him in the groin again with her right leg ... then her left ... then right. He was totally dazed and fell to his knees. Her next kick went to his solar plexus and he simply gasped and fell forward with his face striking against the newly cured concrete sidewalk. Mary Beth bent forward and whispered to her niece and together they began to take off his shoes, then socks, then belt, and then pants. It had all happened so quickly.

"Bill. Bill. You're so quiet now. Well, ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, Dr. Rouse managed to defend herself from the assault attempted by one of the Bears' finest. Wow, look at that, will you!"

What Claudia was talking about was being broadcast live throughout the Midwest. Dr. Rouse had taken the ribbon cutting scissors and was using them to cut the man's underwear off. After she had completed that job, she cuffed his hands behind his back and using an expandable FemTech baton spread his legs and strapped his ankles to each end of the baton, causing his balls, penis and rectum to be fully exposed and vulnerable to whatever ministrations she had in mind. But his penis and balls, swollen, bruised, yellow and purple had gotten all the attention she planned on giving them for the moment.

"They should stop her," said Bill Midford.

"But, Bill. The Sexual Freedoms Act provides that the assault committed by Moriski may be responded to by the initial victim, even after the original danger has passed as long as the events, as a whole, are continuous, as they are in this instance. Dr. Rouse is in the right, and the police can't compound their initial failure to protect her by committing further wrongs against her, not while the world is watching."

By this time, the man had regained consciousness and began to look around and call for help, but none was forthcoming. Kathy Beal helped her aunt by attaching a stout collar around the man's thick neck. Then, a strong nylon strap was attached to his collar and the center of the baton began to be ratcheted, pulling his spread legs up toward his head as he lay on his back.

"Thank you," Kathy leaned in and whispered to the bound man. "You're going to make this ribbon cutting very special for all these little school children."

Greg looked around. The elementary school had let out and the block was crowded with children and their parents. Dr. Rouse unzipped her slit skirt and handed it to Kathy. Mary Beth wore modern princk panties that framed her magnificent organ in silky loveliness. She unstrapped herself from her thigh harness and her princk lengthened and stiffened. The man screamed and shrieked for help, but none was offered. Dr. Rouse's attention was focused on her captive and her princk was shimmering in the afternoon sun, slick with its lubricant ... and she began to bear down and in upon the trussed football player.

The thick head of her princk commenced to navigate its way past the man's hard muscular cheeks and up against the sphincter ring of his last ineffective defense. Dr. Rouse braced her feet and began her entering thrust. The feeling of her princkhead against his flexing, straining sphinctal muscles was ... well ... in light of the public nature of the event ... wildly erotic to her. As she felt his muscles enter their vibrating-fatigue stage she leaned hard upon him.

"Hup one, little man. Hup two. Yes! Hup, three. Ummm!"

The head of her monster organ began to breach his sphincter and slide and wedge itself deeper and deeper into his body and his mind. He screamed for help, screamed in shame, and screamed in abject pain, and his thrashing about increased her pleasure. Deeper still she punched her way into him, until her balls pressed against his ass and her clitoris pleasurably pressed against the rear of her testicle sack. And then she began her strokes, ... in and out ... in and out, ... until his rectum was spread and sore, princk precum squirting out of torn tissues, his buttocks raw with pain and his mind as split as his bottom. And then she saw it, ... that look in a man's eyes. It didn't always happen so quickly. The look of complete subservience, the way a man can be broken under a determined princkmistress' relentless ebullience. She loved it and it triggered an orgiastic fury that elevated her and tore him further until she moaned in ecstasy and finally withdrew her simmering weapon from his bleeding seat.

"Don't worry, sweetie," she whispered to him. "The princkcum will promote healing and believe me you'll be getting a lot of it ... princkcum, that is."

By this time, much of the crowd began to breakup and drift away, shaking their heads in shame. No one came near or touched Moriski except for some of the schoolgirls and princk fans as he lay on his side sobbing with his legs still cranked up towards his head. Claudia Ashton and her camerawoman approached Dr. Rouse and Kathy as they completed their walk to the Field Office's front door, cut the celebratory ribbon and shook each other's hands to the loud applause of those in the original crowd who were pro-FemTech.

"Dr. Rouse, Dr. Rouse. Please might I have a comment regarding this event? Were you surprised to have such a hostile greeting this afternoon?

"Hi, Claudia. I've followed your work. Thank you for providing coverage of our little effort in support of sexual freedom. As to your question, I find that men are jealous and (gesturing toward her still somewhat simmering and almost fully erect organ) afraid of us and ashamed of their own sexual inadequacies, and I'm not at all surprised that a man would attempt to hide himself from those feeling by aggressively acting out. Our little football player here has quite an interesting life ahead of him, and 'behind him' you might say, and I can assure you that we will put him to good and frequent use. Well, if you will excuse us please, Kathy and I are going to band him and then bring him into the Field Office as our first male resident"

Claudia turned to the camera as Dr. Rouse and her niece walked back to the moaning Greg Moriski. Behind Claudia, the viewers could see Kathy and her gesturing and talking to the schoolgirls about Greg Moriski and FemTech.

"This is Claudia Ashton concluding our live broadcast on location from Bourbonnais at the opening of the latest FemTech Field Office. As we saw just a few minutes ago, if Chicago Bears TE Greg Moriski's hands heal properly he may someday catch a pass again, if he's permitted to do so. But regardless of his football career, after observing Dr. Mary Beth Rouse having her way with him, I think that its going to be long, long time before anyone could call him a 'tight end.'" Claudia stared into the camera with a silly grin on her face.

"Did I really say that?" she asked her audience. She raised her eyebrows in that cute way she had of doing and said, "This is Claudia Ashton saying have a safe drive home, Chicago, and a great rest of today."

The Sue Dexter Chronicles — End of Chapter Thirteen (c) 2005

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