At The Mercy Of Mrs Letchworth Ch 05

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This is the fifth of a series of chapters for a new story that includes many of my usual elements: natural body fluids and products, strong smells, D/s, spanking, ridiculous premises, and eccentric characters, all over the age of 18. If any of these things are not to your taste or offend you, I suggest you exit immediately and look elsewhere on Lit for stories more up your alley. I present my writings here for my fans, who appreciate what I am doing and get my sense of humor. I have uploaded this under the Fetish category, as that seems to best encompass the mix of activities included. I urge you to read the chapters before this, as it will help this chapter make more sense. This is entirely a work of fiction and bears almost no resemblance to reality.

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The morning after our cum-fest in Mrs. Letchworth's bed, I awoke in my own room, which I had staggered off to the night before, bearing a pair of Auntie's voluminous black silk undies, which she had given me as a souvenir of her unveiling of the Divine Androgyne. She had told me that her body fluids, which had soaked the slinky garment, were loaded with her magnetized pheromones and if I sniffed them deeply before falling asleep, I would wake up refreshed and reenergized for a new day.

I was delighted to find that this seemed to be true, as the next morning I sported a major case of "morning wood" that I did my best to ignore, as I was now under a vow to cease all solitary masturbation and save such bodily fluids to share with other family members. The specific details of how this was to be carried out were yet to come, and in the meantime, I was left trying to imagine how all these changes to our household's routines might take place.

Just for starters, for years before I arrived at Auntie's home, I commonly began my day with a pee in the john, followed by a dump. Both felt great, as they provided relief from the tension of holding my body waste in overnight. But from Mrs. Letchworth's newly announced perspective, pissing in the john was a violation of our household commitment to sharing our precious bodily fluids with each other. As for my crap, I wasn't quite clear whether it fell under the category of an excretion or not. Were we also supposed to save it to share somehow?

I may have woken up feeling refreshed and reenergized, but I now felt stymied and paralyzed by my confusion over my longtime morning routine. I felt nature calling urgently, to the point that I was afraid that if I didn't relieve myself almost immediately, I might wet and soil my pajamas. I carefully got out of bed and walked as rapidly as I could manage in my state of inner tension to Auntie's bedroom door and knocked twice.

I heard some rustling from within and a muffled call of "Who is it?", in a tone of voice from Auntie that indicated she was not pleased with being interrupted in her morning toilette.

"It's William," I explained. "So sorry to bother you, but I have an urgent problem."

I could hear a loud sigh that underscored Mrs. Letchworth's displeasure with this intrusion. I felt reduced to a pathetic beggar who was starting my day by riling up my Auntie with questions about how I should pee and poop. The last two days had raised my hopes that our family was reconstituting itself around an exciting agenda of androgynous transformation and nutritional bodily fluids, but there remained much that was unclear and blurry. I was on the edge of tears, and I was also clenching my buttocks and crotch, trying desperately to ward off an explosion of urine and feces.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and Mrs. Letchworth stood before me, clad in her black bullet bra, jumbo sized black granny control panties, and sheer black thigh-high nylons. Despite my urgent state, the sudden sight of Auntie's voluptuous body encased in generous undergarments shifted half the blood in my body into a mad rush to reach my prick, which was suddenly erect and pulsing.

I let out a groan of physical misery and an accompanying gasp of yearning and desire. Somehow, Mrs. Letchworth seemed to grasp my plight, and grabbed my arm and yanked me into her boudoir and slammed the door shut.

"Please, Auntie, I need to pee and poop really bad, but I don't want to waste my sacred fluids or excretions. What should I do?"

I felt like an idiot presenting her with such a dilemma, but she took it in stride.

"William, my poor dear, I was planning to cover this today in my lessons for Dollie and you, but I forgot the urgency of our bodies' wakeup calls. Shed your pajamas immediately and push your prick into my open mouth. I'll see if I can suck it into a state where you can just let go and give me your pee full blast. The first morning release is quite intense, but I can handle it, sweetheart. Then we can figure out what to do with your urgent defecation."

* * *

I could tell that Mrs. Letchworth's brain was working overtime, trying to solve this sudden emergency. Her tongue's ministrations and her mighty suction powers, convinced my meat stick that it was now safe enough to relax and release my pent-up piss, which she swallowed like a champ, no doubt well-schooled in imbibing bodily fluids on a moment's notice and in accord with preserving their potency and power.

No sooner had she swallowed my morning blast of pee and licked her lips with relish, than we were presented with the question of how we should deal with my urgent need to shit. Up until now, Auntie had dealt with her own fecal urges, with a daily morning session of "excremeditation", which combined her urgent need to defecate with an openness to receive communications from her inner plane guides. The expelling of feces from her rectal-colonic system was a spiritual ritual of deep satisfaction. But my urgent need to just let go, was something else again.

I wasn't privy to her mental calculations, but her immediate solution to my plight was to yank open a drawer in her nearest nightstand and pull out a shiny black butt-plug of modest size, lube it up lickety split, and forcefully press it into my clenched anus with one hand, while giving a mighty slap to my ass, with the other.

"Just relax your shithole, sweetheart, and take it like a man," she shouted. "I think it's best that we save this load for later, at a more appropriate time. I've scheduled a special guest for today's lessons, Doctor Schloppfarth, my own personal physician, who is wonderfully creative in dealing with such matters. I think you two should get on famously. She is well-versed in managing bodily functions, and she should have an idea or two on how best to utilize this opportunity.

"Now, William, be a dear and run down and inform Henrietta that she should come to my room immediately, holding off on any peeing or pooping, so that I can supervise her 'business', as well. Let's get this day off to a good start."

As I stood up from my bent-over position, I realized that my urge to shit had not lessened at all. If anything, it had gotten even worse. But with the plug firmly in place, I was now experiencing an intense sensation of backed up turds coiled around snake-like within my colon. Much to my surprise, my body interpreted this inner tension as an erotic yearning, and my hard-on was back, stiffer than ever. I watched it point the way to the door and lead me down the hall to Dollie's room, where I knocked on her door and opened it, to be greeted by the unexpected sight of a naked Henrietta standing on her head in a meditative yoga pose.

On spying my boner, she instantly rolled out of her position and came right over to me, her eyes fixed on my thickened prick, as a bead of pre-cum bubbled out of my dick's slit.

"Oh, yum! Is that a present for me, Willy? I'm sure it shouldn't be wasted."

She reached over, grasped my tool at it's base, just like she'd been taught the day before, and with great ceremony, licked the pre-cum up before it could begin to dribble down my shaft. We were in serious danger of getting derailed here, and I had to summon up all my willpower to get us back on track.

"Hey, Doll, Auntie wants you to go to her bedroom immediately and don't even stop to use the toilet on your way. Got it? It's urgent."

"Alright, no problem, but is that a butt-plug in your ass? Whose idea was that?"

"Whose do you think? It wasn't mine, that's for sure! You may get one, too. Auntie's got big plans for today's lesson, with a special guest and everything. Just get on down there and she'll fill you in," I chuckled at my own joke. "You better run, I'm sure she's already getting impatient."

"Uh oh, I'm sure you're right. I'll see you later, masturbator!" Dollie tittered at her own cleverness and took off running, yelling "Coming, Auntie!"

* * *

Not long after, both Dollie and I came down to breakfast, clad only in our bathrobes. As our lessons each day were given over to developing our erotic skills or better understanding our bodily functions and products, it seemed like Mrs. Letchworth insisted on our nudity for most of our time together. Dollie and I rapidly reached the point where we found it no longer awkward to see each other's sexual organs or erogenous zones. Getting fully dressed seemed a bit of a bother, if we were just going to get undressed again.

However, once breakfast was over -- a delicious serving of Huevos Rancheros mixed with grilled ground Chorizo sausages -- Mrs. Letchworth sent us back upstairs to dress up in honor of today's special guest, Dr. Ulricke Schloppfarth, Auntie's personal physician and a fellow initiate of the Hermaphroditic Order of the Divine Androgyne, or HODA for short.

On our way to our rooms, Dollie whispered that she had heard much high praise from Auntie about the Doctor's advanced experimental methods in personal hygiene, but Dollie had never met her or known her to come to our mansion before. She was not surprised that Dr. Schloppfarth was deeply involved in the Androgyne project, but she confessed that she found it somewhat unnerving that Auntie had always seemed to follow the good doctor's advice or orders without question.

Was it possible that in the pecking order of the incoming Divine Androgyne leadership, that Dr. Schloppfarth actually held a higher rank than Auntie? The thought gave us the shivers, but we allowed ourselves a brief hug and kiss before we hurried to our respective rooms and tried to dress our best.

I was thrown back on the Sunday suit that I'd worn to my parents' funeral, as I had very few clothes to choose from. Mrs. Letchworth had spoken of an upcoming visit to a prestigious haberdasher's, but things were moving so fast, that this promised excursion had, so far, gotten lost in the shuffle.

As it turned out, Dollie had a special gothic doll get-up in reserve, which showcased her petite charms in a short black dress, with uncountable layers of petticoats, black nylon thigh-highs, and shiny red Mary Jane shoes with white ankle sox trimmed with lace. She looked so adorable, with her face powdered white with red highlights on her cheeks, that I had to restrain myself from humping her in the hallway outside our bedrooms. I so looked forward to our taking each other's virginity, an enticing prospect that seemed to keep receding into the future. I made do with hugging her to me and licking her ears, which made her titter as we descended the stairs down to the first floor.

No sooner had we entered the living room, receiving approving looks from Mrs. Letchworth, than the door chimes rang, and Bertie hurried off to receive our visitor. There was a flurry of delighted greetings at the door, and then the staccato click-clack of Bertie's and the Doctor's high heels down the front hall, as they dramatically arrived before us.

Dr. Ulricke Schloppfarth had delayed her giving over her khaki-green full-length Macintosh trench coat to Bertie, until she was resplendently in our presence, wearing a knee-length white doctor's coat over a sky blue tight rubber full body-suit that molded her curvaceous form into a licentious expression of authority and prurient excess.

I couldn't help but wonder whether this touch of the bizarre was a foretaste of the new world that our inner plane mentors were dedicated to guiding us toward. Would our trusting wards -- our naïve masses, following our guidance -- embrace a hermaphroditic social order where everyone was an ecstatic embodiment of the fusion of the masculine and feminine polarities?

Dollie and I were both excited by the prospect, but might we both be pawns in the cunning manipulations of an alien race of higher frequency beings? Was the promise of a future role for us as powerful androgynous overlords, a genuine prospect or merely a sucker's ruse?

All such questions and misgivings were shunted aside, as Mrs. Letchworth and Dr. Schloppfarth embraced each other and enjoyed a prolonged deep kiss and impassioned fondling of each other's voluptuous bodies. There was a tension in the air that I had not yet encountered in our gothic mansion.

Bertie shifted his balance from foot to foot, seemingly unsure of whether he should fade into the shadows or remain alert for further orders. Dollie and I were immobilized by questions of who we might best obey: Auntie or her doctor.

This all came to a head as Auntie whispered in her doctor's ear, and we were herded into the clinic for this morning's lesson.

* * *

"Children," Auntie announced, "we are deeply honored that the esteemed Dr. Ulricke Schloppfarth has graced us with her presence today. Not only was she trained at the famous Baxter Clinic, but she received her medical degree in the celebrated gastro-intestinal 'German method' from the Strict Discipline Berlin Medical Facility. Unfortunately, her pioneering research into bodily functions, ran afoul of the socialist zealots in the Jung Nature-Bund, and she was forced to operate privately as a Medical Consultant to sympathetic individuals, who were aligned with the goals of the Hermaphroditic Order.

"Henrietta and William, my beloved twins, please follow Ulricke's guidance in releasing your colonic excretions, as proto-initiates of the coming Androgynous regime."

Mrs. Letchworth withdrew from view, allowing her physician to take center stage. Doctor Schloppfarth had a striking presence, uncannily evoking Marlene Dietrich's pencil-thin eyebrows and blue eyes, surrounded by a curly blonde bob. However, this was balanced by a hearty enthusiasm that was quite contagious. My qualms about her overriding our Auntie's authority were softened as she addressed us with a light German accent in a warm reassuring manner.

"Such handsome young people! I salute you, saviors of our future race! Together, we shall guide the ignorant herds to their destiny as hermaphroditic beings. Ja, mine kinder-bund, today we demonstrate vigorous hygiene methods of bowel-cleansing for greater purity! No more shame regarding normal body functions, but joyous embrace of expulsion of filth as erotic practice!"

Our blonde instructor opened her brown leather satchel, and dug out a rubber swimming cap that matched her body-suit and a pair of light blue rubber-rimmed swimming goggles, both of which she proceeded to pull on over her nicely coiffed blonde hair and positioned the goggles to protect her lovely blue eyes and carefully shaped eyebrows. Then she dug out two pairs of vinyl surgical gloves and handed one to Dollie and pulled the other over her elegantly shaped hands and up over the wrists of her rubber suit. She now had an eerie impersonal appearance reminiscent of an alien space creature with a curvaceous figure.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Letchworth had rolled out an enema stand, with a bulbous pumpkin-colored enema bag hanging from a hook, with a long hose attached. It dawned on me, belatedly, that Dollie and I were soon to undergo enemas from the practiced hands of Dr. Schloppfarth.

I clenched my butt-plug tightly in anticipation of the promised relief of my stopped-up colon. Not only was I a sexual virgin, but I was an anal virgin as well. This would be my first enema ever and the prospect made me both nervous and excited. Being under the firm control of the rubber-clad physician was like a dream come true that I never knew I had. I was over the moon.

"Willem, Constance tells me that you are most desperate for relief and have so been since you woke this morning. Disrobe and climb on exam table immediately, so you can be irrigated and purged. You look to take two quarts of warm soapy water to do trick.

"Henrietta, you can assist me positioning Willem and removing butt-plug. You strip, too. Ja?"

I hastened to shed my clothes and fold them neatly before placing them on a counter a good distance from the enema staging area. I had a hunch that things might get pretty messy. Dr. Schloppfarth was likely clad in rubber for a good practical reason.

Dollie was naked in a jiffy. No tiny buttons up her top's back this time needing my assistance. She had skipped underpants and bra altogether in dressing up, apparently knowing that we'd both be quickly reduced to naked pawns on the cosmic chessboard of the Hermaphroditic Order. We were increasingly willing to do as we were ordered, perhaps because it was the path of least resistance.

My urge to defecate was growing so urgent, that I scrambled up onto the exam table, eagerly anticipating my strapping in place and the hoisting of my legs and thighs back against my trunk, with my feet fastened to the stirrups. With Dollie's help, this was accomplished in an instant, which earned Dollie an appreciative nod from Dr. Schloppfarth.

"Alright, Willem, it is time for hygienic cleansing and Orgone production. Please keep your pelvic muscles strong as Dollie removes your plug and I replace it with lubricated enema nozzle. Then we fill your inner bowels with soapy water and let the process work its magic. I admit this stage may involve pain and cramps, but the ultimate release will be beyond any pleasure you have known before. The Orgone energy it produces should invigorate us and move us closer to the time of the Quickening."

* * *

As I would soon experience, the key to a successful enema is the forceful overpowering of impacted stools in one's bowels with stimulating liquids that trigger a helpless expulsion of fecal waste. The body reads this as an escape from bondage or perhaps a spiritual cleansing that revivifies one's soul.

According to the inner-plane guides of HODA, every individual enema undertaken with the right intention, elevates the collective level of Orgone energy, pushing the human race further towards the goal of masculine-feminine integration and fostering of the collective Divine Androgyne.

Under the firm guidance of Dr. Schloppfarth, Dollie carefully removed my butt-plug and manually blocked my anal cavity with her vinyl encased thumb until the doctor could insert the enema hose's nozzle deep into my anus. I then underwent the uncomfortable procedure of my rectum and higher colon being gradually filled with hot soapy water from the orange enema bag. The urgent tension I had felt before was now heightened to an almost unbearable level, making my inner pressures scream for relief, as I felt terrible cramps unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

Dr. Schloppfarth directed Dollie to gently massage my abdomen, helping to move my fecal waste down the intestinal tract toward its expulsive release. Doing this was Dollie's idea of great fun, with my abdomen swelling, as if I was pregnant, and her massage of my colonic coils made me groan and gasp loudly and break out in a cold sweat. In her methodical way, the doctor would clamp off the flow of soapy water at certain intervals, allowing me to assimilate the inflow. The stringent soap made my bowels sting and I was frightened that this torture would never end. Noticing my frantic state, Dr. Schloppfarth improvised a novel method to calm me.