by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Aug 5, 2024
Chapter Description: Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home
Daniel picked up the control unit and pressed the first button on the left.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggghhhhhh!”
I quickly grabbed the device from his hands and pressed what I hoped would be the off button.
“Thanks,” Daniel moaned. “I think we just found Yolanda’s happy button she uses when she feels like electrocuting my testicles. If it’s really off, then we just need to find the key for the lock. She should have a key ring in her purse.”
Back to the living room we trudged (and tiptoed around the dead body). Her purse was hanging on the stair railing and Daniel opened it and fished out her keys.
“This little one should do it,” he speculated. Then he opened the small lock by himself. “Yayyyy! I’m free! … Oh shit, I could sure use some baby powder. Would you guys mind giving a few minutes of ‘alone time’? I haven’t jerked off in two years.”
“No problem, Daniel,” I answered … and then watched the boy race upstairs to his bedroom. The skin around his groin area had a bad rash and was discolored.
Sam, now dressed again, tapped my shoulder. “Mom, do you think he’ll put a blob on the ceiling like you did?”
“Depends on if he’s hit puberty at age twelve.”
A few minutes later, we heard Daniel scream like a wild banshee … had to be an orgasm. Then he came buffeting down the steps, dressed up again, with a big smile on his face.
“Wow!” he gushed. “That was great! That felt almost as good as jamming a knife into Yolanda’s back.”
“Did you shoot cum?” Sam inquired.
“Not old enough now, Derrek,” but I will be soon.
I posed what I thought would be an interesting question. “Daniel, why would Yolanda be so stupid as to allow you easy access to a butcher knife?”
Daniel waggled his finger at me. “She’s not so stupid, Martha. The butcher block of knives was chained inside a cabinet with a 40-number combination lock, like you would normally use for a gym locker. And whenever she was out, she chained me to my bed upstairs with a similar lock.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Daniel, are you saying you were able to pick these locks?”
The boy explained, “Not exactly, Martha. Here, do the math with me. What’s 40 times 40 times 40? You see? There were 64,000 possible combinations on each lock. Yolanda went out a lot and that left me with a lot of free time on my hands.”
“So you actually tried every combination?”
“Stay with me now,” the boy went on. “The odds were 50/50 that I could find the right combination after 32,000 tries and each try took a half minute. So I should be able to open a lock in 16,000 minutes or 267 hours. If she left me alone for four hours a day, then I should be able to open it in 67 days.”
“And that worked?” I followed up.
“Not really. Instead of two months, it took me four months to open the bed lock.”
“Then why didn’t you just run away?” Sam asked.
I told my ‘son’, “He had a tracking device under his skin. Yolanda would have found him … So Daniel, how long for the lock on the cabinet?”
“Another seven months. Whenever she went out, I snuck down into the kitchen and stood on a chair to reach it. But that was nerve-wracking … because every time she came home, she would push the ‘electrocution’ button for a half-second to make sure she heard me yell ‘ouch’ before entering into the living room.”
“Wow,” I exhaled. “Nearly a whole year to do that … But you couldn’t stab her yourself?”
“My bedroom door was locked and she had a few nanny-cams around the house, but she was getting lazy and didn’t check them often. If she ever caught me with a knife, I’m sure I would have been tortured … who knows?”
“You were lucky,” I said.
The boy shook his head. “No, we all were lucky, because I just cracked the cabinet lock a few weeks ago.”
I stepped over to the wall and gently removed the bullet that had whizzed past my ear by a few inches. I added, “You might want to patch up that hole.”
Sam pointed out, “What happened here reminds me of the my favorite clip from the movie KickAss where Hitgirl sneaks up from behind and drives her sword right through the bad guy … and he falls dead.”
Daniel asked, “Hey, do you guys know of any other people who have the water curse?”
“No, just you and me,” Sam answered. “But what will you do now? Should you be worried that people will be coming to this house looking for Yolanda?”
“Nah, not likely. She never had a single person over here and her family’s in California. This house is still in my own name.”
“So should we call the police now?” I proposed.
Daniel responded emphatically, “No! Absolutely not! Jeez, that would open up a can of worms that could go on for years.”
“But Daniel, I have the whole thing recorded on my phone. It would prove you acted in self defense.”
“Martha, I’m twelve years old today. In 11 days, I’ll be back to my adult age of 34. How would I explain that to the cops … or the U.S. government for that matter. They’ll want to study me and maybe weaponize my curse, so they can drop a baby behind enemy lines to possibly gather intelligence. I won’t be much better off with them than I was with Yolanda.”
Sam asked, “So what should we do about the elephant in the room?”
“We need to dump the body,” the boy answered. “The stab wounds were pretty clean. She only bled on the area rug.”
“Dump it where?” I asked.
“In the woods?” Daniel suggested.
“No, wait!” Sam interjected. “My dad’s got a boat. We could dump her in Lake Erie.”
“But Sam,” I worried, “how do we keep her from tumbling over Niagara Falls and drawing a lot of attention?”
Sam put out his hand. “Can I borrow your phone, Mom?”
I had to roll my eyes. “Sam, after what happened this afternoon, your dad is gonna shit a brick.”
“You got any better ideas, Mom?”
I handed Sam my phone. “Try not to delete the recording of our encounter with Yolanda.”
“No problemo, Mom.”
He punched up the number and put the call on speakerphone. “Hey Dad, it’s Sam.”
There was a momentary pause before we hear a response.
Then the voice answered, “Let me get this straight. Is this my daughter Sammantha talking out of Derrek’s body?”
“Yeah, Dad. We need to ask you for a little favor … if you’re not too mad at us. The switch-a-roo wasn’t our fault, really.”
“I see … So what do you need from me now?”
“We need you to come over to a house at 72 Chalkwood Lane. It’s only about a 15 minute drive from you. We want to show you something … it’s important. Please.”
The man’s voice was not exactly cheerful. “And am I allowed to ask what this something is … or is this another late April Fools joke?”
“Dad, it’s better if you just take a look yourself … and this is no joke. We need your help.”
“I see … Well, okay then. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Thanks, Dad.” ---click---
“He’s still gonna shit a brick,” I told Sam.
Daniel tilted his head. “What did your dad mean by ‘Sammantha talking out of Derrek’s body’?”
Sam explained, “We had kind of a mix up, but I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s do first things first.”
When we heard the knock at the door, we held our collective breaths. Sam went to open it.
“Dad, please don’t over-react.”
Paul took his first step into the living and froze for several seconds. Then he said, “I’m hoping this really is a joke … and that the woman on the floor will hop up back on her feet, and then we’ll all have a good laugh.”
Sam shook his head. “Sorry, Dad. That’s not going to happen.”
Paul asked, “So did I happen upon the set of a ‘Who dunnit? film’? Am I supposed to guess that Colonel Mustard killed Mrs. Boddy with a dagger in the living room? … And Sam, why is your fishing knife sticking out of this woman’s back?”
“I stabbed the woman with both knives,” Daniel volunteered. “She was keeping me as a sex slave and she pulled a gun on Martha and Derrek.”
Paul shook his head angrily. “I thought this day couldn’t possibly get any worse, but I was wrong. So why didn’t you call the police?”
“We can’t, Dad,” said Sam. “Daniel Prestek has the water curse like me, and if he ‘fessed up’, the government would whisk him away to be studied.”
Paul bent his eyebrows. “Daniel Prestek? Is this the lawyer that went missing a couple years ago?”
“Yes,” Sam answered.
Paul pointed at the floor. “And this dead girl was his missing secretary?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit … so what do you guys want me to do about it.”
Sam asked sheepishly, “Uh Dad, could you possibly take her for a ride in your boat tonight and dump her into Lake Erie?”
Paul looked at his ‘son’. “Is that all, Sam? You’re asking me to be an accessory to murder? I mean … would like me also to pick up a pizza for you on the way back?”
“There’s no one else we can call, Dad.”
“I see … Well, I would have to be stark raving mad to do this for you. God damn it, Sam! Ever since you met Derrek, you’ve been acting recklessly. This isn’t like you. And now you’ve got that fucking penis you’ve always wished for, so now you think that all is right with the world? Sam, this is NOT RIGHT!”
The boy lowered his head. “Sorry, Dad,” he muttered.
At that moment, I felt like a real heel, standing inside Sammantha’s body … like I stole his daughter from him … and he even blames everything on me.
Paul shook his head again. “I’ve got a lot of stuff in my workshop in the basement that we can work with. I’ve got two foot lockers …”
My eyes peeled back. “Paul! Are you going to saw her in half?”
“No, just bend her. I’ve got enough chain and padlocks to wrap around one foot locker, but then we’ll need to stop at a house they’re tearing down near me and pick up a bunch of bricks.”
“To weight down the foot locker?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Paul. “And I guess that Derrek, here, in Sammantha’s body will be the only one I can take on the boat to help me, since the two boys can’t touch fresh water. Is that correct?”
Daniel spoke up loudly. “Technically, I suppose that is correct, but when is someone going to explain to me about this body swapping? It sounds like a ‘Freaky Friday’ movie.”
“It is,” Sam answered. “I’ll explain it to you when my Dad leaves.”
Paul ordered, “Daniel, keep the garage door open till I return.” He then looked at me, with my muscular female body. “Derrek, I could use some strong arms to help me.”
“I’m at your service, Paul.”
A Comedy of AR's
by: Sammderr | Story In Progress | Last updated Aug 5, 2024
Stories of Age/Time Transformation