Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Chemical Bonding Chapter 5
CHEMICAL BONDING V
By Lennon Karma, Bringer of Weirder Fanfics
Uh, I don’t own any of da people, pleez r & r, uh, I guess that’s about it. Read da fic! Oh, one quick thing first: For lack of a better name, I refer to Mandark’s future self as CEO to avoid confusion. (I am well aware that the next little while will be very confusing.) Okay, NOW you can read da fic. J
Chapter 5:
Darwin’s Theory
Mandark’s fingers bounced quickly over the keys, responding robotically quickly to the commands of his boss, only to find that they were not for him. “Number 12!” The voice screeched over the inter-com. “Typing!” Mandark’s mind returned to him at the sound of his own voice. The constant mindless typing set his mind adrift. Only now could he fully understand what he was doing to his employees, or would do someday. Wearing them down, their noses to the grindstone, slowly numbing them into accepting the takeover his future self was planning at that very moment.
Mandark had forgotten just how easy it was to get on his future self’s bad side. Upon turning on the laptop, he discovered message after message of “#13 expelled5error5floor surveyor needed5” Seeing this message told Mandark that he obviously had this floor of typists under his watch. After pressing a series of keys, another message popped up. “Welcome, # are the new floor surveyor. Tasks: Oversee floor quota – with corporate expansion, floor surveyors are required to observe individual workers. Troubleshoot and update all systems and system software. Keep record of all floor employees. Report any and all incidents to C.E.O. M. Astronomenoff.” He found the strictness foreign to him as well as addressing himself as “C.E.O. M. Astronomenoff.” Still, it was quite a shock to end up back here when the travel was only supposed to be a test drive. He pressed the okay button, and an overhead view of the floor appeared on the screen. The graphics were incredible; it felt to him as if he was looking straight down at the floor from above.
Stretching luxuriously in his chair, Mandark couldn’t help but wonder what the last number 13 had done to get himself expelled. To him, this job resembled that of a security guard; little involvement unless an incident called for it. He would skim through each section of the floor, yet one section more than the others caught his eye. Section Alpha.: #1#16. In that section, his main interest remained lying in the cubicle next to his own, #12. Wishing beyond all bounds of the imagination that somehow he and Dexter could be brought together, he locked his arms into a cradle across his lap, reminiscing on the sweetness of the love he had experienced with Douglas, which no longer seemed real. It seemed to belong in the dream he dreamed5
This happened surprisingly soon, yet from what he remembered of Dexter here was that it didn’t take much to succumb him, bending him to any will. A lack of noise from the neighboring cubicle told Mandark to bring this to Dexter’s attention, or he himself would pay the price. A message to Dexter and a report to his “boss” settled his first crisis. No sooner than his work was done, a short message appeared on his own screen acknowledging his work: #13{1}.
The rest of the day passed much in the same manner; with a subtle reminder to the pit of his desires next door, and a report to his future self, CEO right after. With another day over, at the end of the day, a voice boomed over the inter-com once more, “#12! In my office at once!” Feeling the hair on the back of his neck bristle, Mandark watched his screen. Dexter’s image was plainly visible in front of his own laptop, then abruptly disappeared.
Even after traipsing through the years to come, Mandark was entirely unaware of what awaited Dexter in his far off destination. He saw a row of buttons of various shapes, sizes, and colors on the arm of his chair, and pressed wildly at them in an attempt to follow Dexter’s path. His combination proved incorrect; the chair became a mechanical bull, bucking him off and thrusting him to the floor. Reluctantly, he gave up on this hope of transportation and leapt up following Dexter.
The halls of the office were somewhat like the edges of the labyrinth, yet far beyond anything Daedalus could have designed. Stainless chalk white walls closed in around him, yet he could not see the end of the hall he was running down the length of. Endlessly bleak, the sullen dcor fit the dark events that had and would continue to transpire here. Portraits of himself skirted the otherwise empty walls, relieving some of their monotony. Still, he couldn’t believe that his time machine’s upgrade had worked: he was his future self, yet he was very different.
Careening through the halls in a blind fury, he barely noticed crashing into an employee. As he groaned softly and got back to his feet, he saw the unmistakable hate and terror in the employee’s eyes. Mandark was equally alarmed; when he thought of the misery he had caused for so many, he couldn’t help but feel their affliction as well as his own guilt and regret. Obviously his future self did not feel that way; he was proud enough being the maniacal dictator he was.
His eyes followed the loathing laborer back into his cubicle, but from behind him, he could hear the vile echo of his laugh. Spinning around, Mandark saw a red streak of light stretching across the carpeted floor. Following its span to its source, he found it to be coming from under a large, finely stained door, with the grandeur far surpassing any other in the building. An incredible gold leaf name plate stood at Mandark’s eye level, with his own name engraved in calligraphy. The knob, also gold, flaunted the same M as the nameplate, and Mandark opened the door with a creak.
The room flooded the hall in a shade that resembled red wine, and Mandark’s swift entrance left him standing alone in this room, with nothing except the ominous black spires like those in his lab and a metal ring. He remembered its purpose, and knew that a worker’s presence here had no positive outlook. With a sound resembling that of a garage door opening, Mandark hid quickly behind one of the spires and waited. The wall opposite him split floor to ceiling like a set of jaws, and the room brimmed with a steamy mist. There stood his future self, his mirror image, dragging in Dexter. Mandark, still bearing the mind and emotions of his youthful self, found Dexter more attractive than ever before.
This had no effect on his knowledge of what was to come. Dexter took his position on the metal ring, masking his fear with the bravest face he could show. He was stripped down to almost nothing, and Mandark’s heart raced in his chest. Sweat slowly seeped from Dexter’s stolid brow; no matter what, he refused to show fear.
This was to no avail. CEO was stubbornly heartless. “Every day, the same and you never learn, do you?” he sighed to himself, circling Dexter, the perfect predator for the perfect prey. “I can hardly blame you. Now that the neuroatomic protocore is where it belongs, out of your inept hands, I wouldn’t feel worthy of life either if I was in your place. Thankfully, I’m not, as the strong rise, and the weak don’t last. You of all people should know that.” He grinned, narrowing his eyes, and came face to face with Dexter. It seemed ironic to Mandark that if CEO despised Dexter this way, why did he come so close to him? Their noses, only inches apart, nearly grazed one another. And another mystery Mandark considered was explained. The room’s red glow stemmed from the core itself, safely tucked away behind some transparency in the center of the wall behind Dexter.
He then looked back at CEO, to find him removing his leather belt, turning the monogrammed buckle over in his hands, watching the reflections on the walls. Taking hold of its smoothness, CEO paced a half circle around Dexter until he was directly behind him. CEO drew his arm back, and thrusting the free end of the belt onto Dexter’s bare flesh, he smirked, which became laughter. Mandark winced in horror at the strike, which echoed several times after its contact. Dexter’s back tensed up as he breathed deeply, but his expression remained stolid, immovable. Waiting for the shock of the first lash to sink in, CEO then made a second blow, followed by two or three more in quick succession. The searing throb radiated across Dexter’s back out from the long gashes. Another snap of the belt left yet another white slash, which faded into a raw pink. The pain Dexter held from CEO came out on the face of Mandark. His eyes stung with hateful tears; Dexter was his mortal enemy, who would eventually lead to his downfall, yet Mandark loved him in a twisted, unearthly passion.
The last crack of the belt lingered in Mandark’s ear while he watched in agony as the skin of his deepest love parted, revealing a threadlike bright red line. The trickle of blood slowly left Dexter’s body, creeping down his back, falling and spattering on the floor below. Knowing he was powerless to help hurt Mandark the most. He was frozen in fear, yet he would do anything humanly possible to set Dexter free from his bonds.
CEO seemed to strengthen from Dexter’s anguish; with this newfound power, he put all his force behind every slash. Still refusing to allow any signs of weakness, Dexter stubbornly continued to keep it inside him. Pain was his weakness, escaping from his body, and he was stronger for it. But this could not save him from the lash of CEO’s calmly administered wrath. CEO seemed, for the most part, as indifferent as Dexter himself. He did not seem sad, furious, or happy with himself and the suffering he was causing not only to Dexter, but to the entire office, but mostly to Mandark. Each blow was given with the hand of a master with no remorse, and Dexter received each with no vulnerability. Mandark alone showed emotion. Unable to watch any longer, Mandark turned away, feeling a lump in his throat as he covered his eyes and wept for Dexter. But this could not shut out the sound of the crack of the belt.
At last, one final resounding smack across Dexter’s back was heard, then silence. Mandark uncovered his eyes, and turned his head slowly, afraid to look, afraid of what he might see. Dexter’s head no longer looked to the wall opposite him, but to the floor. His fiery red hair, stressed in the light, hung in limp, sweaty curls across his forehead. Dexter’s back was now a horrifying array of blood, torn skin, and ragged raw flesh. That was only the beginning; the floor behind Dexter was splashed with blood, and Dexter’s back still dripped. Ridding his belt of Dexter’s innocent blood, CEO fastened his belt around his waist once more, and released Dexter from his prison. Dexter slowly stepped down, just gracious that it was over. He pulled his lab coat back on, and CEO eyed him, saying, “A man like you can never change.” As Dexter left from the door through which he had entered, Mandark noticed the bloody circles that speckled the back of his white lab coat.
A proud look of satisfaction crossed CEO’s face, and with one admiring glance at the protocore, he was gone as well. Mandark still shook, as the grim reminder of Dexter’s torment stayed with him. Now, determined to seek revenge on his overbearing CEO future self. The jaw-like doors at the other end of the room were nearly upon each other. In a burst of speed, Mandark managed to squeeze through the door after CEO. CEO lay sprawled across a chaise, hands folded, and eyes closed, giving him an angelic appearance. Mandark continued to run in his direction, which quickly roused CEO, causing him to sit up. Mandark slowed to a walk several meters away from him, giving him a look of pure hatred. To say that CEO was not bewildered would be untrue, for even in his hardened state of mind, seeing another form of himself was certainly out of the ordinary.
Standing and approaching Mandark until they were face to face, CEO was unsure how to handle this. Assuming that it had something to do with the recent events of time travel, he remained calm. Mandark tried in vain to say something to CEO, something that told of all the horror he had only just witnessed, the blood he had seen on Dexter’s back and on the floor. He could not imagine being able to put into words the strength of his feelings against it.
Frustrated at his inability to come up with anything, he tightened a fist, shifted his arm back, and let all his hatred come out in force, knocking CEO to the ground. It came with a vengeance Mandark didn’t even know he possessed, it just came bursting through him.
Groaning and rising back up, CEO looked surprised, but ready for combat, even if it was with himself. He lunged forward and knocked Mandark off his feet. Both fell to the ground, and Mandark twisted violently, managing somehow to pin CEO down. “What makes you think you can do that to him?” Mandark spat in an adrenaline-charged rage. CEO’s steely expression glared back at him, and CEO replied, “This is my corporation. The workers belong to me. I can discipline or fire anyone I chose when I see fit. Who the hell are you to tell me what not to do?” Mandark was too blown away by the tyrannical response to his rhetorical question that he was unable to say more. CEO continued, “The ones I knew in childhood cause the biggest problems. I was more than lenient on #12, who takes after that friend of his, #24. Mordecai, I think.” Mandark lightened his grasp on CEO. Did he mean Douglas? Curious, Mandark couldn’t help but ask, “I am your childhood! He was a part of me, no matter how short a time it was. What happened to him?” CEO’s eyes glazed over, then he spoke. “Ever since I met him, he caused me no end of problems. I have only negative memories of him. You should know.” Mandark assumed that if this meant what he thought it meant, CEO still bore a grudge on Douglas for his cheating nature. But surely this was more extreme than was necessary. Unless there was another reason as well5
“He continued to try to get the better of me, knowing my weakness for Dexter.” This alone told Mandark that he got the correct message. Old wounds given by Douglas led to more wounds. “In an attempt to separate him from Dexter, I changed his number from #24 to #601, but this had little effect on him. No amount of discipline, no amount of anything would work on him. Only one option remained; so I chose to resort to it. It’s amazing what a little gamma radiation can do for someone. At least it was one more worthless nothing out of the way. ” Mandark was dazed at CEO’s irrational grudge for something that had taken place so long ago. CEO surged forward again, catching Mandark off guard and pinning him to the floor. “What about Dexter, then?” Mandark panted. “What about Dexter. Well, he serves his purpose. Being an executive requires time to unwind. He is very good at helping with that even if he is an irresponsible, lazy worker.” The last three words were what awoke the final necessary surge of energy. Mandark struck CEO, forcing him off. He fought fire with fire, giving CEO the merciless beating that Dexter had received.
CEO at last staggered to his feet, his own starched white shirt spotted with blood. He made a dash from Mandark into the time machine, yelling, “I swear to you, I will be there!” And he was gone. Confused, but glad to be rid of CEO, Mandark eased gently onto the chaise, seeing his chances at Dexter sprung anew, no matter how adverse. It would take time and effort, but it was the dream of the monarch of innovation; of course he could turn it into a beautiful reality.
The one flaw lay in his lack of consideration of CEO’s destination. Arriving at his destination, CEO found himself returned to boyhood once more. He had every opportunity at his disposal; his brilliantly corrupt mind was his only limitation.