A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Nov 26, 2022


Chapter 8
Furnishing My Room (a little boy's room)

I awoke to some great aromas emanating from the kitchen.  I was still nude, and the only sleepover attendee left in the ‘tent.’  Investigating the source of the great smells would have to wait.  It was time to put on my Goodwill/Walmart wardrobe.  I still can’t believe what good stuff people get rid of … some of it even new.  I selected my soft denim pants and football tee-shirt with the number ten, my age, ha ha.  Then I put on my $150 sneakers that we bought for $10.  As an adult, I never bought shoes that expensive for myself.

 

I checked the full length mirror hoping I had gotten taller, but no such luck.  However, I could see why Sammantha thought I was a ‘cute little kid’ … all that hair.  I just hoped my childhood would be brief.  The thought of going back to elementary school sent chills down my spine.

 

“Wow!  Mom, this is incredible.  I could smell something was going on from back in the bedroom, but I never stored all this food in my kitchen.”

 

“I was awake at 6 am, sweety, so I decided to get us off to good start on our first full day as mom and son.  The food mart opens early, so I left while you were still sleeping.”

 

I was beaming.  “But how did you know I liked all this stuff? … pancakes with syrup, bacon, hash browns, scrambled eggs, toast and jelly, orange juice.”

 

“There’s milk too, if you like.  When it came to breakfast, the boys I used to meet at summer camp were all human garbage disposals, every last one of them.  Bon appetit.”

 

Between the food and the sex, I was starting to get the idea that I liked my new mom. I sure enjoyed ogling her well-toned body.

 

“Sweety, you can’t rinse off the dishes, but I still expect you to clear the table when you’re done and put all the food back in the frig. Those will be your first permanent chores.”

 

“Sure thing, Mom, and thanks for making breakfast.”

 

“Your quite welcome, sweety.  And when we run the dishwasher, open it when it’s done and let it air out for 24 hours before you put the dry dishes away.”

 

I gave Sammantha a thumbs up.  “Got it.”

 

“And I’ll also expect you to keep your room clean.  Make sure all your dirty clothes are in the hamper and all your toys are off the floor.  I’m not picking up after you.”

 

My face suddenly drained.  “Toys?” I thought.  I didn’t know I had any toys.  I didn’t think I even had a hamper.  She was treating me like a child again.

 

A half hour later, Sammantha drove us to the ‘All-in-One’ furniture store in south Buffalo, a high-end outfit that, as the name implied, sold just about everything.  We were greeted right away by a middle-aged sales associate.

 

“Good morning.  My name is Margaret. What can I help you find today?”

 

I was sure Sammantha had a long list, but she started with the beds.

 

“I’m looking for one in the master bedroom for me and one for my little boy.”

 

The sales clerk leaned forward and donned a phony smile.  “And what’s your name, little boy?”

 

My name is ‘Go fuck yourself, Margaret.’  Alright, I didn’t really say that, but I did not like the way she was patronizing me.  I just answered the question.

 

“Derrek.”

 

“And are you going to help Mommy pick you out a nice new bed today, Derrek?  You must be very excited.”

 

(Help me, Lord.  Stop me from slapping this woman’s face.)  I hid behind Sammantha.

 

“Aww, he’s shy … Well, let’s get started on the master bedroom.”

 

As Margaret was saying this, I noticed her looking sideways through the showroom window at the red Porsche.  She must have been thinking ‘here comes money-bags’.

 

“I’d first like to show you our top-of-the-line model, a queen size mattress with a self-cooling pillow top and an adjustable base that comes with a remote control and eight separate memory pre-sets.”

 

Samantha laid down on the bed and played with the remote control for several minutes.  She did not let me have a turn … but she asked the clerk, “How much is it, and can you deliver it today?”

 

Margaret replied, “Six thousand dollars, and since it’s in stock, we can most certainly bring it over and install it today … and we’ll remove your old bed if you’d like.

 

Samantha relaxed on the bed with her hands behind her head.  She exhaled deeply and responded,  “All that sounds great … I’ll take it.”

 

I pouted silently.  She was throwing out my bed without even asking me.  I had to speak up.

 

“Mom, do you think that maybe we could just move my bed into my new room?”

 

That got shot down in a hurry.  “Oh no, sweety.  You need something that’s fresh and new.  You’ll like it.  I promise.”

 

Okay, well maybe with the way she’s spending money, I could look forward to a better bed.  And an adjustable base sounded nice.

 

Margaret then led us to the ‘clearance’ section of the store.  “And for your little boy, we have this very comfortable discontinued floor sample that I could let go for two hundred dollars … It’s a single that comes complete with mattress, box spring, and rails.  He could even store his toys underneath.  Would you like to try it out, Derrek?”

 

Sammantha pointed her hand toward the bed and I knew that was my cue to lie down.  I did so, and immediately decided that a bed of nails would have been more comfortable.  This thing was as hard as a rock.

 

“I’m not sure I like it,” I said with a shaky voice.

 

“You’ll get used to it, sweety,” Sammantha assured me.

 

Margaret stepped forward and pointed at my crotch.

 

“Since most boys his age are still bedwetters,” she explained, “I would recommend that you purchase the matching plastic fitted sheet to go under the cotton sheet.”

 

Sammantha nodded.  “Okay, we’ll take the bed and the sheets.  Let’s look for a student desk now.”

 

(Oh really?  Plastic sheets?  She couldn’t just say ‘My son is not a bedwetter’?  Thanks a lot, Mom.  I wish I had stayed home.)

 

“Wait,” said Margaret.  “Before we leave the bedding area, there’s a little bonus that comes with the model your son picked out.”

 

I rolled my eyes when I heard her say that I picked it out.  She went back to her office and returned, presenting me with a large stuffed toy bunny rabbit.  As a toy, it wasn’t bad … gray and white, large, over a foot high, very plush and cushy … but I did not extend my hands to accept the gift.

 

“It’s a ‘buddy-bunny’,” the clerk explained.  “If you take him to bed with you, you’ll always have a friend and you’ll never be alone.”

 

“Go ahead, you can take the bunny,” Sammantha advised me.

 

I shook my head.  “That’s okay, I don’t need it.”  What I really should have done, if I had any self pride, would have been to take the bunny rabbit and shove it up Margaret’s asshole sideways.

 

Sammantha bent down and whispered in my ear, “Do I need to explain why it’s important for you to accept the bunny?”

 

Every time she said the word ‘explain’, it reminded me of the ‘Godfather’ movies where they say ‘I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse’.  I couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing than being spanked in front of Margaret.  An even bigger fear I had, though, was that Sammantha would ask Margaret to do the spanking.

 

I presented two open arms and exclaimed, “Thank you, Margaret.  I’m going to take buddy-bunny with me to bed every night.”

 

“You’re very welcome, Derrek.”

 

There were a variety of desks to choose from, except that Sammantha was the one doing the choosing.

 

“This one looks nice, Sweety.  It has storage drawers, a built in light and a pullout tray if you’re working with a keyboard.  This would be perfect for doing your homework.”

 

I cringed hearing Sammantha talk about me going back to school again.  My whole body tightened up with anxiety.

 

Margaret, of course, had to pipe in, “And what grade are you in, Derrek … third or fourth?”

 

The embarrassment gave me an erection (again).  I turned, and tried to change the subject.

 

“Mom, didn’t you say we needed a hamper?”

 

“Good reminder, sweety.  We need a hamper and a small dresser for your clothes.”

 

After selecting those two items, I dug up the courage to ask in my most polite and respectful manner (albeit with a high pitched voice that I hated) “Mom, may I please have a TV in my room?”

 

I knew darn well that she wasn’t going to give up and let me have my own TV from my own master bedroom.

 

Sammantha knelt down so she could look up at me and smile.  “Sweety, it’s just not necessary to put a TV in your room.  You can watch TV in the living room, or if we want to watch different programs, you can watch TV in my bedroom.  But putting one in your room will just keep you up at night.”

 

As before, Margaret had to chime in.  “Many reports have shown that a child’s bedroom should be used only for sleeping and studying.”

 

(Can’t somebody kindly shut this bitch up?)

 

“Or playing with your toys,” Sammantha added.

 

 

 

 

 

It had been a real great day.  I lost every argument.  Sammantha and I spent the rest of the afternoon helping the installers set up the bedrooms and move all my stuff into my new room which, by the way, I hated with a great passion.  It felt like such a demotion.

 

I saw Sammantha adding another item to my wall which I didn’t even know she bought … a large cork board that she was hanging up with some picture wire and a hammer.

 

“I also got you some thumb tacks, sweety.  This will be a good place to hang up your ‘A’ papers from school.”

 

Oh god, she sounded serious.

 

Since we were both pretty tired, we agreed on ordering pizza delivered to the apartment.  But I will never ever agree that pizza with milk is a tasty combination.

 

A bit later on, she said, “It’s eight o’clock, sweety … time to get ready for bed.  I’m sure you know the routine now … PJ’s, bathroom, brush teeth, floss, teaspoon of water.”

 

I innocently asked, “Aren’t we going to have sex tonight?”

 

That was a mistake.  Sammantha’s face changed to the look of a rabid dog.

 

She pointed at me and barked, “You watch your mouth young man!”

 

“Sorry, Mom.”  I quietly slithered away from the living room.  I realized now that that had to be about the stupidest thing a ten-year-old boy could ask his mom.

 

Without another word, I followed the routine and asked Sammantha to watch me pour a teaspoon of water on my wrist.  Then she escorted me into my new room for the first time.  She handed me my bunny rabbit and tucked me in, then kissed me on the forehead.

 

“Good night, sweety … love you.”

 

“Good night, Mom … love you too.”

 

I didn’t mind the teaspoons of water because I hardly felt a thing.  What I did mind greatly was being infantilized by someone whom I thought was my devoted lover.  She pranced around with this alluring luscious body, probably the best among the four billion some females on planet Earth.  She was a walking vagina … and to think that of all the cocks in the world, she picked mine …  to fuck her lights out every night … I wish.  Instead, she thinks she’s going to enroll me in elementary school?  Well that’s it.  I’ve had it.  I finally decided that I had to confront Sammantha once and for all.  I left my little boy’s room and went to the living room where she was seated on the sofa, reading.

 

I stated politely (high voice) “Mom, I think we need to talk.”

 

She lifted her head and smiled at me.  “Sure, sweety, any time … Come on over.”

 

I went to stand in front of her, not in the least suspecting that she would stand and lift me up from under my arm pits.  If Sammantha were a ‘dominatrix’, she would have just ordered me to ‘assume the position’.

 

She sat back down placing me once again, face to face, in a sitting position on her lap with my legs splayed wide apart, straddling her thighs.  This was an embarrassing and undignified posture from which to start a conversation. She knew damn well that I would pop a boner in the center of my PJ’s … and I did, almost instantly.

 

(high voice)”Permission to speak frankly, Mom?”

 

“Permission granted, sweety,” she replied with a salute and a smile.

 

I inhaled a deep breath and tried to speak up with as much authority as my small vocal cords could muster. “Sammantha, this is the adult Derrek talking, And I think it really, really sucks that instead of plowing a princess every night in my own master bedroom, I get unceremoniously ushered next door to a little boy’s room at 8:30pm where I get to jack off under the covers with this little cock that I can hardly recognize and I can’t even shoot cum yet … Sammantha, please, I know I agreed to try this role playing game, but it needs to change now.  I am 28 years old and I don’t like my role.”

 

My adult lover looked kindly at me and gently placed the palm of her right hand against my face.  “Oh, sweety,” she said soothingly. “You’re very right, and I agree.  So from now on, you don’t need to go under the covers.  You’ll just put a sock on the outside handle of your door when you feel like playing with it, and I’ll respect your privacy.”

 

She leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead again.  Then she put her hands under my armpits and lifted me off her knees, setting my bare feet back down on the floor. She turned me about-face and patted my butt twice before adding, “Now be a good boy and go to bed.”

 

I was sad … and tired.  I yawned.  Then I just walked back to my room.  I didn’t feel like jacking off, so I picked up my bunny rabbit and cried myself to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 


 

End Chapter 8

A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Nov 26, 2022

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