A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Jun 16, 2024


Chapter 89
CHAPTER 189 .......... Little Buddy Day


Chapter Description: 2 new pictures added 4/3/24 Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home


CHAPTER  189


Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday went by without incident … if you don’t want to count the fact that pretty much every kid in middle school had a video of a naked dancing Kitti Power on their cell phone and were still talking about her.

 

The students who still had the video on their chromebook email were forced to delete the file, but it would be on the internet forever.  Poor Kitti … not.

 

Friday morning brought an air of excitement as several school busses full of ‘chirping’ excited five-year-olds dropped off their kindergardeners at our gym entrance.

 

During homeroom, we were asked to report to the gym for our ‘little buddy’ assignments and we were told that in most cases they would try to make a same-sex match, although the numbers didn’t align perfectly. 

 

That’s why Madeline was paired up with a cute little five year old boy whom I could have sworn was Peter Shinee’s miniature doppelganger.  The kid had eyeglasses and suspenders, but no bow tie.  He reminded me of the cartoon with the mad scientist child called ‘Dexter’s Laboratory’ … except this kid looked really sweet.  I hoped I’d get matched up with a  ‘nice’ boy like that.

 

“Madeline,” said Dr. Glass, “your little fella’s name is Zebulon Allred, and I think he could be a real ‘smarty pants’.

 

“You can call me ‘Zeb’, Madeline” he squeaked.

 

The name ‘Allred’ struck me funny, but it was probably just a coincidence that he had the same last name as the prostitute who gave me the water curse.

 

Hoshiko received a perfect match … a little Asian girl with a sweet smile who immediately ran up and hugged the older girl.  Then she grabbed Hoshi’s hands and swung them back and forth while giggling.  Those two were going to have fun today.

 

“I’m Ling Ling, the five-year-old Chinese girl said, looking up lovingly at Hoshiko.”

 

“Derrek Adams,” the principal called my name. 

 

I’m not sure if these kids were placed in any order or just randomly selected, but the moment arrived when I was handed my little buddy for the day.

 

When I first looked at the boy, every horror movie I’d ever seen quickly flooded into my brain. I was especially fixated on the shower scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s movie ‘Psycho’ where the poor victim screamed repeatedly as she was shredded by about 20 knife stabs amid shrilly orchestral effects.

 

“Derrek,” the smiling principal said as she put the boy’s hand in mine, “this cute little guy is named Dorcus Crudup.  He has an older brother that goes to the high school and I’m sure the two of you will hit it off great.  Have fun!”

 

As we walked away, I gripped the kid’s hand tightly and told him, “I expect you to be on your best behavior today.”

 

Dorcus pulled his hand away from mine and moved quickly into a power kick that was aimed directly at my groin.  But knowing Dorcus too well (from when we were both at the daycare), I blocked him by raising my own right knee.

 

“Hey!” he yelled.

 

“Let’s repeat lesson one,” I told him, regaining his hand.  “I expect you to behave.”

 

The boy positively sneered at me with his comeback line, “Eat my fuck with a rubber duck you self righteous abominable cocksucker!”

 

“Wow,” I responded, “Chikon must be working with you on your vocabulary.  That was really impressive.”

 

“Chikon’s gonna kick the shit out of you!”

 

“Why?” I asked.

 

“Cuz I don’t like you!”

 

I nodded.  “Well I don’t like you either, Dorcus … So I think we should do something about it.”

 

“Oh yeah?” the brat countered.  “Like what?”

 

“Follow me, Dorcus.”  I grabbed his hand again and walked him down the hall to the shop class area.  I still vividly remember the way he slammed heavy toy trucks against my head when I was a three-year-old at the daycare center. 

 

His torture of me went on for two hours that day.  He crushed my graham cracker and poured my apple juice over my head so the teacher yelled at me.  Then he tripped me to the floor and came down with a hard knee into my stomach which made me pee my diaper.  And when the teacher asked him to watch me while she went to find a new diaper, he punched my exposed testicles really hard.  He injured me.  It was horrible.

 

I was glad to see that the wood shop door was open and nobody was ‘home’.  It was shaped like an ‘L’ and I walked him around the corner to an area away from the door.  I returned to lock the door and grab a roll of duct tape off the teacher’s desk.

 

“What’s that for?” Dorcus growled at me.

 

“You’ll see soon, kid,” I told him while selecting a long plank 18 inches wide by six feet long … which I set on one of the oversized work benches.”

 

I tore off the first piece of tape, let it hang from a work bench, then wrestled him to ground.  (He was just five and I took him by surprise.)  Then I grabbed both his wrists and wrapped the duct tape around them.  I held him down with one leg.

 

“What are you doing?!” he yelled, while trying to struggle.

 

I ripped off a smaller piece of tape and told him plainly, “Dorcus, I think the easiest way to control you is to cut off your penis.”

 

Before he could let out a scream, I slapped the duct tape over his mouth.  Then I gently layed him down on the floor and pulled off his shoes.  Then I pulled off his pants and his tighty whities.  He started getting a boner.  I knew little kids could get them, because I got them when I was five.

 

Dorcus was trying really hard to kick and scream … to no avail.  I suppose I would too if someone told me they were going to cut off my penis.  I enjoyed getting my revenge against Kitti Power so I suppose I was on a roll … a revenge roll.

 

I’m normally not this mean, but Dorcus and his brother Chikon are both bullies and I felt that Dorcus needed to find out what it’s like to be on the other side.

 

I picked the boy up off the floor and held him at arms length as he kicked his bare legs back and forth and his cute little boner bobbed up and down.  It was fun to see the look of abject terror in his face.

 

I gently placed him down on his back on one end of the plank.  Then I wrapped the duct tape around his right ankle and wound the roll under the plank, where I tore off enough of a lead that I could wrap it around his left ankle.  With the plank of wood on a flat surface, he couldn’t move his spread-apart legs.

 

Then I spun the plank around and removed the tape from his wrists so that I could tie them in a similar fashion as his ankles … so that he now was positioned in a miniature spread-eagle against the sides of the plank.

 

Dorcus said, “MMMMMMMMMMppppppphhhhhhhhh!!”  I had no idea what his jibberish was trying to communicate … nor was I interested in finding out.

 

I went back to the teacher’s desk again to grab a black sharpie marker and when I returned, I used my left thumb and forefinger to grab the tip of his penis and stretch it upward with a good amount of tug.  (… kind of like what Starline did to me when I was a baby in the womens’ restroom at the grocery store.)

 

I drew a line under and around his little mushroom helmet tip and I told him, “Maybe we should cut it off here at the tip so you can still pee.  He shook his head back and forth.

 

“No?” I said.  “Then how about if we cut it off about half way up?”  I drew that line too.

 

He shook his head more violently.

 

Then I yanked him upward with more force and drew a circle around the base above his scrotum.  “If we lop off the whole thing, then you could pretend to be a girl … Yeah, let’s do that.”

 

“MMMMMMMMMMppppppphhhhhhhhh!!”

 

I was able to pick up and transfer Dorcus and the plank gently onto the huge table-saw table … and move the ‘rip fence’ (or border guard) against the plank so that it lined up perfectly to push the plank forward … right between his legs and toward his crotch.  There was an extra two feet of plank between his taped up ankles and the seven-inch diameter circular blade.

 

This was so fun.  I took a tissue and wiped the tears from his eyes.  “Don’t worry, Dorcus,” I soothed him, stroking his face.  It will all be over in a few minutes.  And you won’t feel a thing.”

 

I switched the ‘ON’ button and the machine roared to life with a sound terrifyingly suited for Halloween.

 

Dorcus lifted up his head an inch and said, “MMMMMMMMMppppppphhhhhhhhh!!”

 

I slowy pushed the plank forward and its mighty teeth ripped into the wood.  Sawdust flew everywhere as the spinning blade got closer and closer to the poor little boy’s bobbing penis and scrotum.  He was struggling so hard to break his bonds, but was helpless to stop the inevitable.  The blade was now only twelve inches away.

 

Then suddenly I heard a loud voice behind me.  “AHH, EXCUSE ME??!!”

 

I whirled around in shock and saw the shop teacher, Mr. Woody.  Of course, he had a key to his own classroom.  I quickly hit the ‘off’ switch and blurted out, “Mr. Woody … I can explain.”

 

Mr. Woody was an ‘odd duck’ so to speak.  The man was an excellent carpenter and was good at imparting the necessary woodworking skills to his students, regardless of ability.  But something just wasn’t right about Mr. Woody.  Sometimes his mind would drift off into ‘La La land’ and he would say things that made no sense.  There was just something ‘off’ about the guy but I wasn’t sure what it was.

 

“There’s no need to explain, Derrek,” he told me.  “I know that you just won the class presidency of the seventh grade and I congratulate you for that … and I realize that this is ‘Little Buddy’ day, and the two of you are just joking around.”

 

“Yes, sir,” I quickly agreed.  “We’re just joking around.”

 

“And what I’m seeing before me reinds me a lot of the James Bond scene in Goldfinger where the deadly lazer is getting closer and closer to his crotch.  And then Bond yells out ‘Hey, Goldfinger … Do you expect me to talk?’  And then Goldfinger yells back …”

 

I had to interrupt and fill in the line for him.  “No, Mr. Bond … I expect you to die!”

 

We both got a good chuckle out of that while the little boy on the plank tried so hard to get the teacher’s attention. “MMMMMMMMMppppppphhhhhhhhh!!”

 

“Listen, Derrek,” said Mr. Woody, “I know you guys are just having some fun, and I hate to be a killjoy … a bearer of bad news … but I have to ask, ‘Derrek, what the hell are you thinking?’  Do you have any idea what a bad look this gives to our school?”

 

I lowered my head and murmured, “Sorry, sir.”

 

“Derrek, I simply cannot in good conscience, allow the two of you to continue the activity that you’re doing now …  unless you both put on your safety goggles.”

 

“Yes, sir.,” I replied, somewhat surprised.

 

“Well I brought you over a couple pairs, so go ahead and put them on.  One size fits all, so you can just pull the straps a bit tighter for the little boy.  I can help you with his.”

 

“Thank you sir.”

 

“Alright then.  Derrek, I have to run to a meeting now, but when you guys finish up, could you please remember to sweep up all the saw dust from the floor … and from the table saw too.”

 

“Sure thing, Mr. Woody.”

 

“Oh, and keep in mind, Derrek, that this table saw is not a magic trick.  So if you go too far, you really will saw the boy in half the long way and end up with a very pissed off mom.  I’ll see you later.”

 

“I’ll be careful, Mr. Woody.”

 

When the instructor departed, I returned to my young lab rat and used my index finger to tap repeatedly on the head of his penis.  I said to him, “That would definitely be a first, Dorcus … sawing a boy in half in a middle school shop class … But I could get in serious trouble.  I’d probably get a detention … Aw, so what.  Let’s flip on the saw.”

 

The circular blade whirred to life once again … and I pushed the plank forward until the powerful cutter was within six inches of the boy’s little package.

 



 


 

End Chapter 89

A Comedy of AR's

by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Jun 16, 2024

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