A Comedy of AR's

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


Chapter 13
Bubble Trouble

I awoke to the smell of waffles.  That was a good sign.  After the way last night ended, I was genuinely afraid that Sammantha hated me, and I hurried to the kitchen, still in my pajamas.

 

“Mom, thanks for making waffles.  You know I love them.  And I am so, so sorry that I upset you last night.  I promise I won’t do that again when you tell me ‘no.’”

 

She smiled at me.  “Sweety, you’re wrong … It’s I who should be apologizing to you.  I felt so bad after I pushed you out of my room.  You didn’t deserve that.  You were only curious.  So waffles are my way of making it up to you.”

 

“Okay, Mom, but I want you to know that if there ever comes a time in the future when you want to sit down and talk to me about your gort canker, I will listen intently … And even if it’s serious, I promise I will always be there for you till the end, no matter what.”

 

She broke out into a broad grin.  “And that’s why I call you my sweety, sweety.”

 

I happily dug into my waffles and pure maple syrup, tearing them into small pieces and hand-dipping them into a little bowl of syrup.

 

“Is that how we eat our waffles, Derrek?  I gave you a knife and a fork.”

 

“I know Mom, but this way is easier … and it’s more fun.”

 

I noticed that Sammantha was glancing over a city recreation pamphlet.

 

“This is interesting.  The community center is offering a class on ‘Eating Etiquette for Children’.   I think I’ll sign you up for that.”

 

Every time Sammantha embarrasses me, I get an erection.  It seemed that there was no limit to the number of ways she could try to infantilize me.  A child I am, and a child I would stay, it seemed.

 

“Mom, look … I’m eating my waffle with a knife and fork.”

 

“Sweety, it’s not just for waffles.  I would like to take you to some fancy restaurants, confident that you’ll know how to behave properly once we get there.  I’m sure you wouldn’t want to embarrass me.”

 

I was starting to squirm in my seat.  “But Mom, I do good.  Remember the Italian restaurant?”

 

“Sweety, your fingers are a lot smaller than big Derrek’s.  The utensils are harder to maneuver and I think this class would really help you.”

 

I started whining, never a good thing to do in front of Sammantha.  “Mommmm, do I have to go?”

 

She had a smug expression.  “I have a feeling you’ll want to go, once I tell you about our outing for tonight.”

 

“Is it something we’ve never done before?”

 

“It is.”

 

“So can you tell me what it is?”

 

Sammantha didn’t answer.  She crossed her arms and began humming the theme song to Final Jeopardy.   “Da da dah … da da da da da …”

 

I finally got the hint and yelled out, “Okay! Okay.  I’ll go to the etiquette class.”

 

“And we are going to the theatre tonight.”

 

“You mean like a movie?”

 

“No, I mean like a Broadway play.”

 

I started hyperventilating.  “We’re going to New York City?!”

 

“Not quite that far.  We’re going downtown to the Buffalo Theatre District.”

 

“Which play?”

 

“Oliver!”

 

I was still hyperventilating.  “No way!  That’s my favorite musical!”

 

“Well, you can hardly go in your pajamas.”

 

“I’ll go change right away!”

 

Sammantha held up her hand.  “Hold your horses, buster … You’re not going to attend the theatre in your Goodwill dungarees.  We’ll go to Macy’s today and get you some khaki pants and a brown blazer.  A dress white shirt will help, and a pair of soft walking shoes from Sketchers will get you looking spiffy enough for me to show you off.”

 

“Do I need a tie?”

 

“These days, it’s not necessary, especially for kids.

 

I shook my head.  “Wow, I don’t know what to say, Mom.  I feel like you’re spoiling me and I didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

 

“Sweety, think of yourself as a paid actor and you’re playing the role of my little boy.  It’s not an easy role because I can be very demanding.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve kind’a noticed that a few times, Mom.”

 

“So these are not gifts intended to spoil you.  And they’re certainly not an attempt to buy your love.  These are your just rewards which you’ve earned … not to mention that I just love taking you places because you are so appreciative.”

 

I nodded and spoke softly.  “Then all I can say is thank you, Mom.”

 

“And I say you’re welcome.  Now sweety, since you’re not going to school yet, part of my responsibility as a mom is to educate you here at home.  So today, I’m going to teach you a new game that you can play with your penis when you get bored with rough sex and jacking off.  Come into my bedroom.”

 

I didn’t say much, but it seemed like a very bizarre method of home schooling.  “It’s a game?  How do you win?”

 

“In this game, nobody wins or loses.”

 

“Will I at least receive a participation trophy?”

 

“This isn’t youth soccer.”

 

“Will it involve auto-fellatio?  ‘Cause I can’t do that.”

 

“How does a ten-year-old kid know about auto-fellatio?” 

 

“From the kids on the school bus.”

 

“You don’t even go to school yet.  But anyway, what we’re going to do is turn you penis into a musical instrument.”

 

“Will I be able to perform for the Buffalo Symphony?”

 

“When you get good enough.”

 

“So how do you play?”

 

“Well, first we’ll need someone with a penis.”

 

I raised my hand.  “Oh, pick me!  Pick me!”

 

Sammantha pointed at me.  “The little boy with his hand raised … Do you have a penis?”

 

“Yes I do.”

 

“And did you remember to bring it with you today?”

 

“I did.”

 

“Well first, you need to take off all your clothes.”

 

“Wait, what?  I thought all I had to do was stick it out.  I think you should go first, Mom.  Vaginas can make noises too.  You know, like ‘pussy farts.”

 

“It’s called queefing, and no, I’m not putting on a show for you today … now strip.”

 

This time, I followed the instruction.  “Okay, done, here I am. Does it turn you on?”

 

“Watch your mouth, buster.  Walk over to the full length mirror so you can follow along with what we’re doing.”

 

“But I don’t have a boner anymore.”

 

“In this game, you don’t want a boner.”

 

“Then I’m not playing.”

 

Sammantha gave me a half-swat on my posterior.

 

“Ow!  Okay, I’ll play.”

 

“Sweety, you look so cute in the mirror with your shaggy hair.”

 

“And you’re a lot taller than me, Mom.  I used to look down at you when I was big Derrek.”

 

“I’ll stand behind you.  Okay, now put your hands behind your back and grab onto this hand towel. That’s to give your fingernails something to do besides dig them into me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Now here’s where you have to pay close attention to what I’m doing.  It’s going to take you lots of practice to get good at it when I’m not around.”

 

“I’m ready, Mom.”

 

“First we’re going to loosen up your penis, like we would with a new balloon.  You stretch it back and forth a little bit.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Here’s the most important part.  I’m using the thumb and forefinger on my left hand to open up the hole at the top of your penis as wide as possible.  At the same time, I pull your penis up a little bit so it’s tall, but not with an erection.”

 

“Hey, Mom, did you know that sex is easier than golf because you don’t have to waste so much time deciding which club to pull out?”

 

“Shut up … The next thing I do is put the tip of the middle finger (the fingerprint) of my right hand directly on top of the hole … and press down … Did you hear the little air bubble pop?”

 

“Yeah, it’s weird.”

 

“Okay, so you’re urethra is filling up with air bubbles.  My thumb and forefinger continue to squeeze and un-squeeze the head of your penis so that the air bubbles are forced downward  … and we’re going to keep doing that about fifty to a hundred times.  Today, we’re going to go to one hundred because I want you to feel the ‘hot pop’.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“It’s totally harmless.  Once your urethra is completely filled with air, and you keep pumping, the air bubbles have no place else to go except into the tight opening of your bladder.  When the first air bubble pops into your bladder, you’ll feel a little burning sensation, but it’s not really painful.  It’s the same thing that happens when a doctor inserts a catheter tube into a patient’s urethra.”

 

“Mom, come on … How do you know all this stuff when you don’t even have a penis?”

 

“As I mentioned before, Derrek, my patients tell me everything.”

 

“Well, then you have weird patients … Ow!”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I felt the hot pop.  Mom, that was not pleasurable.  It did burn.  Can we please not do that again?”

 

“Sure, sweety.  The musical portion is something I think you will like.  Okay, here’s the tricky part.  You need to ‘cap off’ the little hole without letting any air escape.  So you press and hold your right index finger on top of the hole, hold your penis up with the other fingers of your right hand, and then let go of your left hand.”

 

“Do they teach this in college?”

 

“No … Okay, here’s the fun part.  My left hand is going to manipulate your urethra through your scrotum and try to move the air bubbles up and down.  So if I can locate your urethra far down, then your scrotum will be croaking like a bull frog … and there we are … now if I move my left hand a little higher up, then you’ll get a higher pitched croaking sound.”

 

“Wow, Mom … That is truly amazing.  You’re playing my scrotum like the Scottish bagpipes.  So when should we start writing a score for the Buffalo Symphony?”

 

“You’re not quite there yet.  And we still have to do the ‘class participation’ part.”

 

“How do I do that?”

 

“I’m going to relax my left hand with only about half-pressure on your scrotum.  Then you use your penis muscles to pull in and out and you can do the croaking on your own.”

 

“I think I got that part … Pulling in is like ejaculating and pushing out is like peeing.”

 

“Look how quickly you’ve became an expert, sweety.  You could probably start a garage band.”

 

“Thanks, Mom.  Can you show me pussy farts now?”

 

“No, it’s time to go to Macy’s.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

End Chapter 13

A Comedy of AR's

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

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