I watched in shock as Samantha exited, first the bedroom, then the living room, then the apartment door … and headed down the hallway toward the elevator. In a panic, I called after her. “Sammantha, wait!” I called a second time just as she stepped onto the elevator. Then I sprinted as fast as I could and kicked the elevator door just as it was closing. The door reversed and I held it open as I caught my breath. I looked up at Sammantha who from my vantage point was extremely tall. And I changed my pronoun.
Through my tears, I said, “Mom … please stay with me.”
Sammantha didn’t reply, but appeared to be considering my request as the elevator doors kept banging into my shoulders. After another moment, she offered her hand and I took it. She walked slowly, making sure that I was leading her … that I was sincere in wanting her to return.
Back in the bedroom, I wiped my eyes with a tissue and asked, “What do I do for shoes, Mom?”
“Do you have a pair of flip-flops?”
“Oh, yeah, I do.”
“Good, slide them through your toes for now. Shoes and socks will be the first items we pick out for you and you can put them on right at the register. Let’s get going before the store closes.”
I asked, “Mom, do you want to take my car? Why would you want to park your Porsche in a Goodwill parking lot?”
She smiled. “Because I don’t have a Lamborghini. Let’s make sure we lock it up.”
Once in the store, I picked out a pair of socks and used basketball shoes that probably cost about $150 new. People get rid of everything here. Then we headed for the boy’s pants aisle and that’s where I overheard a very strange argument coming from several aisles over between a twelve-year-old boy and I guess, his mother.
The boy complained, “I’m tired of being a kid. I want to be an adult again.”
The woman pointed a finger at his nose and lectured, “If I hear one more smart-ass remark out of you tonight, Daniel, I’m going to pull your pants down right here in the store, put you over my knee, and whack the fuckin’ begeezus out of your rear end. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Mommy,” the boy replied sullenly.
He has to call her Mommy? That sucks. I walked over to Sammantha and suggested, “Mom, I’m going to look at the twelve-year-old section for some items in case my age changes sometimes.”
She nodded. “That’s a good idea, sweety … and pick up a few things from the eight-year-old aisle too.”
“Okay.” (Eight? Really? That got me worrying.) But I had to talk to that other boy first. I went to his aisle and walked up to within three feet of him. He was a few inches taller than me and bore an unhappy expression. Then I whispered.
“Psssst … Daniel, are you allergic to water?”
The boy’s head immediately snapped to the right and he looked at me with wide open eyes. Then he checked to make sure his ‘mother’ wasn’t within earshot. “How did you know?” he whispered back quickly.
“I was probably cursed by the same skank.”
“That same whore who did it to me?!” he reacted with surprise.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“How long ago?” he asked.
“Holy shit!” he whispered loudly. “I’ve been in for two years. Then his head motioned toward Sammantha. “You been with your ‘mommy’ that whole time? And what’s your name?”
“Derrek,” I answered. “And today’s my first day as her pretend son.”
“Are you kidding?!” he whispered with alarm. “Derrek, you need to get the hell out of there while you still have a chance.”
“Why?” I asked.
He checked again for his ‘mother’, then turned back toward me. “I’m an attorney. That bitch used to be my secretary. I used to spank her in my office. Then I would fuck her right on top of my desk. We would do it two or three times a week.”
“Did she accidentally spill water on you?”
“You sound like déjà vu. Yeah, once she saw my age regression, she was merciless. She took me home and made me her sex slave. Now she spanks me. Then I have to eat out her pussy. Then she butt-fucks me with a strap-on dildo. When she’s not fucking me, I have to walk around the house nude doing chores. I have to make dinner. I have to wash clothes. Then she took my house and drained my bank account.”
“Wow, isn’t anyone looking for you?”
“I’m single, no real family connections. The Buffalo police spent about a week looking for the ‘missing lawyer’ but now it’s a cold case.”
“Can’t you run away?” I asked.
“I did once last year. She tracked me down, threw water on me, and then had one of her doctor friends implant a tracking device under my skin. There’s something else I want to show you.”
Daniel undid his belt and zipped down his fly. Then he pulled the band on his tighty whities forward and told me to look inside.
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“It’s a male chastity belt. It let’s me pee through the zig-zag teeth but prevents me from touching my junk. I haven’t been able to jerk off for two years, and every time I get an erection, the top of my dick presses into those metal teeth and it hurts like holy hell. So I try to pour a cold liquid on it to get it down … but not water. If I change my age without her permission, she’ll beat the crap out of me. She keeps me at twelve for her pleasure.”
“Can’t you call the police or FBI?”
“You think anyone would believe a kid who says ‘I’m an adult trapped in a child’s body’? I have no access anyway. She keeps me chained to the bed when she goes out. Derrek, listen to me. My name is Daniel Prestek and I live in her house at 72 Chalkwood Lane in East Buffalo. If you ever in the future get a chance to rescue me, would you give it a shot?”
“Sure,” I answered. “72 Chalkwood Lane.”
“And, Derrek, don’t tell your mommy about me … ‘cause guess whose side she’ll be taking.”
“But my mom is a pretty nice person. We’re just doing role play.”
“Jesus, Derrek, don’t be so naïve. This whole thing is about control … controlling you.”
“Daniel!!” the other mom screamed. “What did I tell you about wandering off?!”
“Sorry, Mommy,” Daniel meekly replied, and then scooted off.
Well at least I knew now that I wasn’t alone in the world. But I felt really bad for Daniel. There was no place in the world for slavery, and I knew that Sammantha would never do stuff like that to me. At least I hoped not. I grabbed a shirt from the rack and returned to her side.”
“This one should be good, Mom,” I said with a smile.
“Good job, sweety.” Sammantha then tapped my shoulder and pointed to the right. “Why don’t you go pick out your pajamas now?”
I chuckled a bit and replied in my soprano voice, “Sam- , I mean Mom, there’s no way I’m wearing pajamas to bed. I never do. I’m not a kid.” I shook my head. “Role play or not, it’s not going to happen.”
She bent down a little and put her hand on my upper arm. “Sweety, would it help at all if I explained to you the reason why you should wear pajamas?”
“You could try, Mom … but I still won’t wear ‘em.”
She pointed behind me. “Look over there, Sweety.”
I turned around and then something made me open my mouth.
“OWWWW!!!” Sammantha swatted my buttocks so hard that it felt like it was literally burning. My hands rubbed my rear end up and down as I hopped, trying to reduce some of the nasty sting. My lower lip protruded and I sniffed a little, looking back up at her … but I didn’t know what to say. I just couldn’t believe she would whack me that hard. I couldn’t believe she would whack me at all. As lovers, she would spank me and it felt erotic. It hurt good. But I don’t think she realized that a little kid’s butt was much softer … and sensitive to pain. Mine sure was. And it was still burning when she asked her follow-up question.
“Does that explanation suffice, sweety? If it does, then why don’t you go pick out your PJ’s now. You can select something with cartoon characters on them … or super heroes … your choice, but try to find something that will fit you.”
Boy, was I mad now. Maybe Daniel was right about these phony moms. I folded my arms across my chest and was about to really tell her off … to lecture her that she was taking this role playing game way too seriously … and that if she wanted any further cooperation from me, then she would have to start treating me with some respect. That’s exactly what I should have told her.
Then I turned around and went to pick out my PJ’s.