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I woke up and looked around.  I was back in my own room.  The sun was nearing the horizon.  Looking at the clock, I saw that it was already 5:50 PM.  I had slept for several hours.  I was still down to my underwear, so I walked over to my dresser and opened it, planning to throw on a loose-fitting shirt to at least cover myself up.  But then I saw the stupid Angry Birds shirt and new pants, folded neatly on top of the dresser.  She must have done that when I was asleep.  It became clear to me that if I put on any of my adult clothes Kyra would just make me change anyway.  Grumbling, I put them on, avoiding my reflection in the mirror, and ventured out into the hallway.

Something smelled good.  I heard sizzling coming from the kitchen.  I peered down at Kyra making dinner.  She had an apron on over her outfit and was bustling about, humming a tune.

I had a flashback to my own childhood, when I used to come out just before dinner and watch my mother cook – my real mother, that is.  The similarities were all too striking: her elegant body gliding around the kitchen with ease, whistling merrily to herself, and preparing delicious comfort food.  Watching Kyra was powerfully awakening these cherished memories from my past.  I paused, resisting her dominion over my mind, wanting to turn and run away, back to my adulthood as it were.

Kyra caught a glimpse of me standing there.  “Jimmy, you’re up!  Just in time for dinner.”  She turned back to her cooking.  I heard my stomach grumble; I was getting hungry.  Besides, where could I possibly run?  I slowly descended the steps and sat at the table.  Soon after, Kyra spooned some food onto our plates and brought them to the table.  She had made chicken sausages with seasoned hash browns and asparagus.  Then she went to the fridge and returned with a glass of juice for her, and a cup of milk for me.  I never drank milk.  But I was in no mood to argue, wanting rather to avoid conversation as much as possible.

I had to hand it to her, the food was delicious.  I finished my plate and washed it down with milk.  “All done?” she asked, getting up to serve herself more food.  I nodded yes then sat and watched Kyra finish her second helping.  Whenever her eyes met mine, she smiled warmly and I looked away sheepishly.

After dinner, Kyra cleaned up the kitchen and I headed to my recliner to watch TV.  Alas, the parental controls were still blocking all channels.  I walked over to the kitchen.  “Kyra, can I please watch TV?”

She put the plate down and turned toward me.  “Young man, you are not to call me by my first name.  I am your mother and you will address me as such.  And,” she said, plucking the remote from my grasp, “no TV until all your chores are done.  You are still old enough to have some responsibilities around the house.”

“Yes … mom.”  I did my chores over the next hour then went upstairs and knocked on her door.  “I’m done with my chores; can I watch something now?”

She came out, still dressed in the same outfit but with her heels off.  “Did you do a good job, Jimmy?” she asked down at me.  I nodded in the affirmative.  “OK then, I’ll trust you.”  I followed her downstairs as she turned on the TV and entered the 4-number passcode.  She entered them right in front of me, but held the remote above my head so that I couldn’t see the numbers.  Even with her heels off, my head only barely came up to her chest.  I felt so small next to her.

She handed me back the remote and went to the kitchen.  Relieved to finally have some time to myself, I plopped back on the recliner and turned to Die Hard on TNT.

“Jimmy, you should know better.”  Kyra had walked over as I watched, and now she took the remote from me again.  “Let’s find you something more appropriate.”  She flipped to the Disney channel and set the remote down.  “No more grown-up shows, OK Jimmy?” she said, returning to her room.

I sat watching that insipid Hannah Montana creature blabbering on for an entire hour.  I thought about turning it off, but I had nothing better to do, and at least my concentrating on the horribleness of the show proved a good distraction from the rest of my life.  But at 8:30 Kyra came down again.  “OK, Jimmy, that’s enough TV for today.  Too much will rot your brain.  In fact, from now on you’ll get no more than 1 hour each day.”  Great, TV used to be my main activity at home, but I was now reduced to just one hour of crappy kids’ shows.

She turned it off then told me to get dressed for bed and brush my teeth.  “But it’s only 8:30!  Plus, I already slept this afternoon,” I whined.  “There’s no way I can fall asleep right now.  Just let me watch TV.”  I didn’t want my one semi-decent distraction to end.  I picked up the remote, turned the volume up a couple notches, and kept watching.

In one swift motion, she grabbed my wrist in one hand, yanked the remote away with her other, and pulled my body off the couch and onto my feet.  “James Michael!” she said sternly, using my middle name, “I gave you an order, and you are going to follow it!”  She stormed up the stairs two at a time with me in tow.  I was sure my arm would fall out of its socket as my feet gave out and she essentially carried my 81-lb frame up the stairs.  As we ascended, she snorted, “Let’s see how you like this: no TV for a week.”  Entering my room, she whirled me around and said, “I’ll return in 2 minutes, and I expect to see you in bed, lights out.”

She released me and left.  I almost cried – I guess her relative complacency lately, all things considered, had lulled me into thinking I could actually talk back to her without consequences.  But now the one semi-happy activity in my life was gone, just like that, over one little action I had made.

I scrambled to brush my teeth, slip into my pajamas, turn the light out, and jump in bed.  She returned as promised, and I clutched the blanket to my chin as I watched her silhouetted body stand in the doorway with hands on her hips.  After a few seconds, she pulled the door closed and left me in darkness.

 

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Sunday: 4’6”

I woke up fairly early but didn’t want to get up.  I must have spent at least an hour and a half lying there with trepidation.  As much as I tried to focus on other, happier thoughts, my mind kept returning to Kyra and the depths of humiliation she was subjecting me to.  I tried to formulate some kind of plan to improve my situation, but nothing came to me.  However, I found myself becoming aroused the more I thought of Kyra.  Without realizing it, my hand had crept down and began stroking myself.  This was so wrong; how could I keep having these thoughts?  But I was powerless to avoid thinking about Kyra’s huge, young, sensuous body, the feel of her warm breasts pressing into my face, the …

I heard the door open.  Shit!  I frantically yanked the covers back up and pretended to be asleep.  A few nerve-wracking seconds went by without a sound.  Oh fuck, did she realize what I was doing?  “Rise and shine, Jimmy.  Brunch is ready.”  She left without indicating she had seen anything, and I let out a long sigh.

If it were up to me, I would just lay here all day, away from my troubles.  But, clearly, it was not up to me.  I got up, weighed myself at a measly 73 pounds, took a shower, and dressed myself in the ‘Hey, Arnold’ shirt Kyra had bought for me yesterday.

Kyra was cheerful as we ate breakfast.  Afterwards, she had me sit on the couch while she cleaned up the kitchen.  Then she came and sat down next to me, patting her lap.  I grudgingly moved over and sat atop her thighs.  Jesus Christ, she was huge.  I mean, she had been big before, but with each passing day I was becoming more and more puny next to her towering frame.  When I had walked up to her just now, I had been no taller than her even though she was seated.  And at 73 pounds to her 155, I realized for the first time I was less than half her weight, too.

She was wearing a tight-fitting pink tank top with a plunging neckline, and my loins immediately began to respond to her closeness.  I started to breathe heavier.  Without even trying, she had me mesmerized.  Her smile indicated that she noticed my predicament.  Putting her hand on my thigh and giving a light squeeze, she said, “There’ll be some more big changes for you today, Jimmy.  First of all, some ground rules.  As you already know, you have a 9:00 bedtime, and only 1 hour of TV per day.  Although, of course, you’re still banned from TV for a week for your naughty behavior last night.”  I hung my head – yes, of course she remembered; I was foolish to have hoped otherwise.  “Also, you may not leave the house under any circumstances if I’m not around.  Which reminds me, I’ll be hanging out with my boyfriend today, and I’ve put some thought into this but I decided to let you stay home for a few hours by yourself, unsupervised.”

My eyes lit up.  “Really!?” I asked, looking forward to some alone time.

“Yes, Jimmy, but don’t make me regret it.  If it doesn’t work out, I’ll have to find some other accommodations for you.”  I vigorously nodded my acquiescence.  “Now, I should be home by dinner time, but, well, I might end up staying longer, knowing him,” she said with a dreamy look in her eyes.

“What are you guys doing?” I asked stupidly.

Her lips crept up in a bemused smile as she regarded me for a moment.  Then she pulled me closer until her hot breath was on my face.  “Little Jimmy, you’re too young to understand.  Someday, when you’re older, I’ll teach you about the birds and the bees,” she said sultrily, sliding her arm way up my thigh and giving a long squeeze, her eyes gazing into mine.  My blood began to boil.  She was driving me crazy.  My eyes rolled to the back of my head as she wiggled her fingers against my leg, inches from my engorged penis.  I lost track of time as she continued teasing me, delighted at my reaction.

“That brings me to the next rule, Jimmy,” she whispered in my ear.  “No more playing with your little wee-wee anymore.”  She removed her hand from my lap.  I just stared up at her, dumfounded.  She took my chin into her palm.  “I’m serious, Jimmy, you’re too young for that now.  I saw what you were doing this morning.”  My eyes shot wide open in terror and shame.  “If I ever catch you playing with yourself, you’re gonna be in BIG trouble.”

I withered under her stare.  God, she looked menacing.  But I couldn’t just give in, could I?  “B-But I have … needs!  I –I can’t go forever without, uh, you know …”

“What, Jimmy?  You can’t go forever without doing what?”  I squirmed in intense discomfort.  “Say it, Jimmy, like a big boy.”

I wanted to curl up and die.  “I need to, uh … masturbate.”

She gave an evil smile, then her face turned serious again.  “Absolutely not.”  I didn’t know whether to protest or just agree and move past this excruciatingly painful conversation.  After a few moments, though, she cocked her head thoughtfully and said, “However, I know you are a special little boy, and you do have some needs unlike other little boys.  I’ll tell you what,” she said, returning her hand to my upper thigh, “I promise that when I tuck you in each night I’ll give you a special treat,” winking at me as she said this.  “But that’s only if you’ve been on your absolute best behavior.”  She leaned in closer.  “I mean it, Jimmy.  If you act up at all during the day, then no happy time for you,” she told me, wagging her finger at me in a warning, then reaching down and briefly squeezing my member for extra emphasis.

I yelped at her touch and looked into her eyes with a flood of conflicting emotions.  I couldn’t let her make me come again, I just had to resist.  But, then again, I knew that the longer I resisted, the more easily aroused I would get as the days went on without release.  Actually, as I glanced down at Kyra’s magnificent cleavage in front of me, I realized that it probably didn’t matter how long it had been, I probably wouldn’t be able to resist her at any time, period.

“Well, Jimmy, what’ll it be?  Do you agree to the terms?”  Still, I hesitated.  Even sitting on her lap, in such close proximity to her magnificent body, I found an ounce of resistance.  My head shook almost imperceptibly side to side in the slightest gesture of defiance.  Her eyebrows raised in surprise, but then she gave a predatory look, accepting the challenge.  I felt my body being pulled into hers.  I tried to resist, but quickly I found my arm and upper body pressing into her bosom, as her hand grabbed the back of my hair and forced my head upwards, inches below her face.  Even sitting on top of her lap her head was higher than mine.

“P-Please,” I whimpered.  I was trying to beg Kyra for the right to jerk myself off on my own time, but I couldn’t muster the words.

“Please what?” she asked.  I felt her begin to tickle my thigh, just inches below my rock-hard dick.  God, it felt soooo good.  I looked up pleadingly into her eyes.  As she continued, though, I realized I was pleading less and less for her to stop, and more for her to … bring me all the way.

“Please … make you come?” she asked.  My body spasmed as I felt the tip of her finger brush the tip of my penis.

“Yesssss,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Do you agree to the deal, Jimmy?”

“Y-Yes!  I agree to the deal!” I blurted.  “Pleassee…” I was lost in ecstasy.

But then I felt a jolt.  She had clamped her hand down on my penis again.  “Good, Jimmy, that’s a good boy.”  She patted me on the head and stood us both up on our feet.

My body twitched and convulsed at the sudden denial, and I desperately writhed and clenched her body against mine and pleaded, “But, Kyra!  Please!”

“Silly Jimmy,” she said, easily prying my arms off her while bending down to my level and wiggling my nose playfully.  “I just told you the rules!  You know I can’t reward you yet.  You have to be good for a whole day first.  And my wittle Jimmy is gonna be the best wittle boy in the world, isn’t he?” she scrunched her face at me and pinched my cheek, treating me like a child.  I looked at her in intense disappointment at being denied.  I eventually nodded my head reluctantly as I held my emotions in check.  With a satisfied smile, she took my small hand in hers and led me up the stairs.  Along the way, she made sure to warn me, “Now, I think I’ll be able to tell if you’ve been naughty and masturbated on your own without Mommy’s help during the day.  You’re awfully excitable and enthusiastic towards me right now”—she grinned pointedly at the lingering bulge in my shorts as she said this—“but if you’re anything less than this later on I’ll know you did yourself and there’ll be big consequences.  Plus, I just don’t think you’ll be able to lie to me convincingly enough when it comes down to it either – don’t you agree, Jimmy?”

I almost let out a small whimper of dismay as we continued to ascend the stairs.  Obviously I had already thought about ‘doing myself’ as soon as she left the house – I was so horny I just couldn’t help it – but these last words from her were more than enough to make me think twice about it.  Something told me she would be absolutely merciless if she found me out.

So I looked up at her and nodded dismally.  She let me leave it at that for now.

But to my surprise, instead of going into one of our rooms on the right, she opened the door on the left.  This room had been left unused for years – it used to be Kyra’s room when she was a baby and then a toddler, until I felt that she was grown up enough for her current room, which was much larger.  The baby room still had Kyra’s old crib, as well as a single-sized bed and a small dresser; there wasn’t room for much else, not even a closet.  To my surprise, I realized that the bed had new sheets on it – adorned with X-men logos and characters—and that everything was newly dusted and cleaned, whereas before the room sported a thick layer of dust.  And, lo and behold, there were my other new clothes from yesterday, sitting atop the dresser.

“What is this?” I asked, bewildered.

“Why, it’s your new room, Jimmy!  Do you like it?”  My jaw dropped.  “I thought it was time for you to move, since clearly your other room outgrew you,” she said, pleased with her play on words.

“But, Kyra, --“

Her face snapped to one of cold determination.  “What did I tell you about calling me that?” she demanded, squeezing my arm painfully.

“Ow!  I’m sorry, Mommy, I didn’t mean to!  It won’t happen again.”

I cried out in pain as she tightened her grip further.  “It had better not.  The next time it happens, you’re going to be in a lot of pain.”  I cowered under her.  Even in her stocking feet, her boobs just cleared the top of my head now.

“Yes, Mommy,” I said eagerly, not wanting to anger her further.

She peered down at me coolly, releasing her grip on my arm.  “Now, as I was saying, I’ll be moving into the master bedroom.  And,” she said as an idea came to her, “I think I’ll use my old bedroom as a study.  Maybe for storage too … we’ll see,” she said nonchalantly.  Why couldn’t I have that room?  I started to speak, but immediately thought better of it, seeing Kyra’s testing gaze.

She continued, “So, Jimmy, since I’ll be gone most of the day, I figure you can help me move.”  She led me to my room – my former room, that is.  “I want all your old belongings taken out – that includes clothes, except the new ones; and all your papers and things on the desk can go, but leave the computer; and anything else from the closet or on the walls or the floor or anywhere else should go too,” she said, sweeping her hand across the room.  Then she looked down disapprovingly and reached down to pick up a piece of garbage at her feet.  “Hmm, this won’t do.  My room should be spotless by the time I get back.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she continued.  “Could you do me a big favor and write down all your passwords, account numbers, etc.– anything I would need to access your bank accounts, pay bills, use your email; you know, things like that,” she said casually.  “Mommy’s gonna need those, if she’s to take care of you properly.”

I hated to relinquish what little semblance of adulthood I had left.  “But Ba—I mean, Mommy,” I said, almost saying her first name.  She cocked her eye at me threateningly.  I gulped and continued, “I just wanted to say, um, maybe I could do all the bills and stuff for you?  I mean, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”  She looked down at me skeptically.  I wasn’t going to win this battle.  A tactical retreat was in order.  “At least, could I keep my email?  You don’t really need that, do you?” I pleaded.

Kyra shook her head and sighed in exasperation.  Then she put both hands on my shoulders and went down on her knees before me.  She was still just slightly taller than I was standing up.  “Jimmy, baby, you’re going to have to learn to accept your new role in life.  You’re far too young to be worrying about all these grown-up things.”  My eyes started to tear at the thought of losing yet another link to my former life.  “There, there,” she said soothingly, pulling me in for a hug.  She wrapped her long arms around me as her breasts pressed into my stomach.  Whispering into my ear, she said, “Don’t cry, little Jimmy.  Mommy’s going to take care of everything, don’t you worry.”  I actually started to forget my troubles, enjoying her warm embrace.  Somehow it just felt right.

She gave my body a squeeze, stood up again, and pulled me to her old room.  She was right back to business.  “You ought to be able to finish all that by this afternoon.  So I want you to start with my stuff as well.  Transfer all my clothes from my dresser and closet, and make sure to organize it the same way in my new room,” she scolded, wagging her finger at me.  “The same goes for the bathroom too.  Don’t worry about moving the rest just yet; I still have to decide which room I want things in.  But, would you be a doll and clean up for me?” she asked sweetly, looking down at me.  I knew she wasn’t merely asking.  I nodded.  “Thanks, Jimmy.  Just make sure everything is nice and neat.  I’m expecting my rooms to be spic and span when I get back, and I’ll be very, very disappointed if they’re not.”  She peered down at me imperiously.  “Any questions?”  I shook my head no.

“Good.  Now there’s one more matter to discuss.”  She sat down on the corner of the bed and pulled me, still standing, up to her.  She asked gravely, “Do you remember what happened the last time you went sneaking around my room?”  My eyes went wide as I remembered that fateful day, when I was fooling around with her clothes and accidently came on her bra.  And then, that dreadful punishment afterwards…

I closed my eyes in shame.  “I … I came on your bra.”

“That’s right, Jimmy.  And how did it happen?”  I tried to wriggle myself away but she held my arms fast and started to squeeze my torso with her legs.  She just loved to watch me squirm.

“I was trying on your clothes.”

“And why did you do that?”  I hesitated, still keeping my eyes closed.  “Eyes up here, Jimmy,” she commanded.

I looked into her eyes.  “Because … Because you’re so big and … and … sexy.”  I started to sob, but I kept my eyes on her nonetheless.  God, I thought, if you’re up there, please kill me now.

“Do you remember how I had to punish you?”

As I was crying, I burst out, “You made me dress like a girl and put makeup on me and took me to dinner and called me Kimmy, and everyone pointed and laughed at me, and…” I broke down sobbing.

Kyra held me in front of her, staring sternly at me and letting me cool down.  Then she continued, “So, when you are moving my clothes and cleaning up my room, are you going to try them on and play with yourself again?”  I shook my head emphatically no.  She tightened her grip, causing my shoulders to hunch up, and her legs began crushing my thighs.  She pulled me closer to her, until her hot breath was on my face.  “If you do, your punishment will make that last punishment seem like a cakewalk, do you understand?”  I nodded vigorously, doing all I could to avoid pissing my pants in front of her.

She released me, and I stumbled and fell back onto her floor.  She stood up and loomed over me.  “Well, get going already!” she commanded.  I scampered to the master bedroom and started pulling out my old clothes, my heart pounding in my chest.  I worked diligently for the next 15 minutes as Kyra changed outfits and got ready to leave.  Then, I heard the sound of her heels approaching my doorway.  “I’m leaving.  I’ll be back before dinner.”  I turned and caught a glimpse of her stunning body clad in a tight pink tank top and tiny skirt.  Whoa mama, I thought.  She headed downstairs and out the door, leaving me home alone.

I let out a long sigh and plopped down onto my bed – well, what used to be my bed.  I slouched over with my head in my hands and sat there for a few minutes.  But I soon snapped out of it and got back to work, knowing that Kyra had assigned me lots of work and relatively little time to do it.

I went slowly at first.  I carefully placed my things into boxes to move to my new room and started planning where I was going to put everything.  The baby room was so damn small.  As my former room emptied out I became sad – I had lived in that room for almost two decades, and now it was being taken over by Kyra.  But the nostalgia ended when I looked at the clock and saw it was already 3:00 – Kyra would be home in less than 3 hours, and I wasn’t even done taking my things out of her new room!  Christ, at this rate her room would still be a mess, not spotless as she requested!  I quickly tossed the rest of my things in some more boxes and shuttled them to the baby room.  I would just have to set up my own room later.

I spent the better part of an hour dusting shelves, vacuuming, making the bed, etc.  Confident that it would meet Kyra’s demands, I moved on to her room.  Lord, it was a mess.  There were papers, clothes, and sundry other items strewn about the floor.  I saw it was almost 4:00.  She might get home anytime from now until 6:00, I figured.  I moved as quickly as I could, transferring her clothes while trying to keep them as folded and tidy as possible, and making absolutely sure to keep everything in the same order she had it originally.  Fortunately my state of panic kept me from getting sidetracked and smelling the roses, and by roses I mean her undergarments.  I was also grateful that I didn’t have to move the rest of her stuff.  But still, having to clean up her room was a daunting task in itself.  As 5:00 rolled around, then 5:30, I still wasn’t done picking up her floor and arranging things nicely.  I started to panic, cringing at the slightest sound thinking it was Kyra walking in.

At 6:00 the phone rang.  I leapt to my feet and ran downstairs to answer.  “Roberts residence, this is James.”

“Your name is Jimmy,” Kyra’s voice responded sternly.

“Oh!  I’m sorry, uh, mom,” I replied sheepishly.

“Have you finished what I asked you to do?”

“Well, no, but my room – I mean your room – is all clean and I’m finishing up your old room now.”  Well, in reality it would take another hour or so, I figured.  I had just finished picking up her things but I still had to vacuum and dust – things that she hadn’t done in who knows how long.

She was silent for a moment.  I could just see the stern expression on her face.  “I wanted you to be finished by dinner time.”

“I’m sorry, mom, but I’ve been working so hard and I’ll be done soon, I promise!”

She sighed on the other end.  “Well, as long as you finish by 7:00 I’ll let it slide.  Can you do that?”

“Yes, I promise!  Uh, thank you,” I said, trying to mask my concern.  This was cutting it close, but I would do my best.

“OK, then.  I’m having dinner with Steve and I’ll call back in an hour.”  She hung up.  I dashed upstairs, determined to have her room spotless by the time she called back.

An hour later, I was not as far along as I had hoped.  There was just so much dust and junk on the floor.  Running out of time, I used the vacuum hose to clean as far under the bed as I could reach and finished vacuuming and dusting all I could.  To my dismay, the top of the dresser was too high now for me to clean it all – in years past, it only came up to my chest, but now I could only clean part of the top.  And the shelf in the dresser was way too high now.  I brought the desk chair from my old room and was able to get the dresser and most of the closet shelf, but to my chagrin it was still a bit too high to clean all of it.  Standing on the chair, I tried to lunge forward to get the back of the shelf, but ended up falling off and landing painfully on the closet floor.  Damn it!  I had an idea: the dining room chairs were a few inches taller than the desk chair.  That would give me the extra boost I needed.

I ran downstairs and started hauling a chair up.  Oh, boy, this was tougher than I anticipated.  The back of the chair was only a few inches shorter than I was, and with me weighing only a third of what I used to the chair was three times as heavy as before.  What’s more, it was already a heavy chair made of oak.  This all added up to a difficult time dragging it up the stairs.

I had to pull it up one step at a time.  I was getting gassed about two-thirds of the way up.  I took a breather then started the last few steps when the phone rang.  Oh, no.  Worst possible timing.  I desperately heaved onwards, trying to pull it up in time to answer the phone.  But in my hurry, and aided by a thin coat of sweat on my hands, the chair slipped from my grasp, bounced down the stairs, and crashed loudly onto the kitchen floor.  Alas, two of the legs were damaged and the chair back was bent out of shape.  It would be tough to salvage.

I didn’t have much time to fret as I dashed downstairs and around the chair and answered the phone.  “H-Hello?” I panted.

“What happened?  Why are you panting so hard?” Kyra demanded.

“I … uh … nothing happened.  I just … ran downstairs to … answer the phone,” I said, still out of breath.

“Is that the truth, Jimmy?”  I paused.  “Answer me,” she commanded.

“Yes, ma’am, of course,” I said, my breath finally stabilizing.

“OK …” she responded skeptically.  “Are you done with your work yet?”

“Uhh … yes, of course, mommy.”  Man, I was a terrible liar.

“Jimmy …” she said threateningly, but I didn’t make a sound.  “Are you sure?  If I came home right now, would I be pleased?”

“Yes,” I responded immediately.

“The floor is all picked up, and everything is dusted and vacuumed?” she inquired.

“Absolutely.”  Well, at least it would be in a few more minutes.

“And my things are in my new bathroom, and everything is clean in there?”

Oh, fuck!  I had completely forgotten about moving her stuff out of the hallway bathroom into the master bath.  In my panic, I neglected to answer her.  I paused too long.  “Well, Jimmy?”

“Huh?” I replied dumbly.

“The bathroom.  Did you finish that?”  She was getting impatient.

“Oh, uh, the bathroom?” I said, trying to sound convincing.  “Uh… yeah, of course I did it.”  I cursed myself silently for sounding so phony.

“Jiimmmmy,” she said slowly.  “You’re lying to Mommy, aren’t you?”  Her voice was chilling.   I didn’t respond.  “Come clean now, and your punishment won’t be as severe.”

“Well, I, uh, what I meant to say was, I’m almost done with the bathroom, I just have to, uh, uh, … clean the mirror.”  Shit, I just kept digging my hole deeper and deeper.

“James Michael, are you STILL lying to me?”  I didn’t respond.  “…Well, young man?”

I paused, then blurted out, “I forgot to do the bathrooms, I’m sorry!”

There was silence on the other end.  Then, she said in a low, menacing voice, “Listen up, little boy.  I’m staying the night at my boyfriend’s place, and I expect everything to be clean when I get home tomorrow.  And I mean absolutely clean.  I’m going to check every nook and cranny of both rooms, and there had better not be so much as a stray hair on the ground.  I don’t care how late you have to stay up, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes ma’am, absolutely,” I stuttered.  She hung up, and my hands were shaking as I put the phone down.  How could I be so stupid?  It was bad enough that I didn’t finish my chores, but I lied to her twice about it!?  And as I turned towards the stairs, I saw the broken chair and realized things were worse yet.  I had actually lied three times, not telling her about the chair incident.  For a minute, I sat there nervously, wondering if I should call her back now and tell her.  But, against my better judgment, I decided to try fixing the chair instead and hopefully avoid any further punishment.

Fortunately, the chair was in better shape than it looked.  The two back legs were only partially broken – the wood was still connected in back, and by bending them back into place they hardly appeared damaged at all, as long as no lateral force was applied.  And the seat back could be twisted back into shape as well; it too was loose, but looked no worse for the wear at a glance.  I took a deep breath.  This could turn out alright.  I had broken Kyra’s chair, but I just needed to swap it with a different chair and she would never know.  She always sat in the same spot, as far as I could remember.  I swapped it with a chair that neither of us used and made sure it looked like new.  Satisfied, I went upstairs to finish cleaning Kyra’s rooms.

It was a long, arduous process, by far the most intense cleaning I had ever done.  I brought up another chair, slowly this time, and finished dusting off the closet shelf, as well as cleaned the bathroom mirror and anything else up high.  Then I transferred her items to the new bathroom and cleaned the tub, sink, toilet, and floor.  By 9:00, everything was looking good at a glance.  But I remembered her chilling demand: not so much as a hair lying about.  I lost track of time as I, with the utmost care and attention, took her statement very literally and combed both rooms for anything left behind: hairs, tiny pieces of trash on the ground, specks of dust, anything.  I even crawled all the way under both beds this time (one advantage of being small) and vacuumed every inch.  I meticulously dusted and cleaned every nook and cranny, as she told me.

Just as I was finishing up, I remembered that I still had to write down my passwords and account information for Kyra.  Thank God I remembered before it was too late!  Though it felt like I was signing my adulthood away, I took a good 10 minutes thinking of all the important websites and accounts I owned and writing them down neatly on a sheet of paper, then placing it on Kyra’s desk, lining up the paper with the edge of the desk to look extra-tidy.

At long last, I looked upon my work and was satisfied.  I just hoped to God that Kyra would be as well.  I looked at the clock --12:30 AM.  Wow, I had spent a solid 11 or 12 hours cleaning and moving for her.  If that’s not good enough, I don’t know what is.  I felt my stomach gurgle and realized I was so busy I forgot to eat.  I went downstairs and scrounged around –there was practically nothing in the fridge.  I settled on a meager meal of crackers, cheese, and some applesauce.  If I had had my normal appetite I would still be starving after my little meal, but with my miniature stomach I was still hungry but not unbearably so.

I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed.  I gave one last look at my old room.  My big, comfortable old room where everything had been arranged just how I liked it for the last 20 years, now devoid of any of my belongings and soon off-limits to me.  I turned toward my new tiny room and went to bed with a heavy heart.

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