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Monday: 4’4”

I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing.  Oh crap!  Kyra hated it when I didn’t answer.  Adrenaline kicked in to overcome my grogginess as I dashed downstairs and picked up.  “Mommy?” I asked.

A voice other than Kyra’s answered.  “Oh, I’m sorry little boy, I’m calling for James.  Is he your daddy?  Can you get him, please?”

Did I really sound like a kid now, too?  Now that I think of it, it made sense that my voice would get higher pitched since my vocal chords had gotten shorter.  But I guess I hadn’t noticed a change in my own voice.  “Uh, actually, this is he,” I said, trying to drop my voice a bit and sound more mature.

“James, is that really you?”

“Yes!” I said, getting irritated.  “And who the hell is this?”

“Watch your mouth when you’re talking to your boss,” she snapped.  Oh, shit!  I hadn’t quite placed her voice.  “You should be groveling on all fours, after missing practically all of last week without warning!  And you’re late again today!  Where the hell have you been!?”  Boy, she was pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been, uh, really sick all week and I forgot to call.”

She wasn’t buying it.  “Bullshit.  If you’re not going to tell me the real reason over the phone then you’d better tell me to my face.  If you don’t show up at work today, you’re fired.  Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am, absolutely.  … Oh, uh, but I don’t have a car or anyone to drive me right now.”  I realized that Kyra would already be at school and wouldn’t get back until 5:00.

“You’re a big boy, right?  Deal with it!” she snapped, hanging up the phone.  Gah!  My life just kept getting worse.  I was hosed, unless I could find a way to get to work.  It wasn’t all that far – with my short legs it would take me a while but I would make it in time.  But what if Kyra came home after all and found that I had left the house?  She had expressly forbid it.  I weighed my options as I took a shower (in the hallway bathroom, to avoid messing up Kyra’s bathroom) and dressed.  Was avoiding Kyra’s wrath worth losing my job over?  It seemed like an obvious choice – yes, of course I should go to work, right? – but I was just so damn scared of Kyra.

But as 10:00 rolled around, I was sure that she had gone to school, and I would be safe to leave for a while and get back by 5:00.  She might call the house, but I would just have to make an excuse like I hadn’t heard it ring or something, and deal with her punishment.  Still better than losing my job, that’s for sure.  When I was out, I figured I would stop by the doctor’s office too, since the test results were waiting for me since Thursday.  I called ahead, and after explaining to the receptionist that I was a grown man, not a child, and that I had test results waiting, she told me that the only available time today was at 3:00.  “The doctor is absolutely booked through ‘til then, there’s no way I can squeeze you in early.”  Fine, I thought.  I would just wait around until then, and I could still make it back before Kyra.

I was dressed in my nice clothes – the polo and slacks that I thought helped me look more grown-up, but Kyra thought just looked cute on my little body.  And they no doubt looked even more so now: oversized and baggy, as if I were wearing hand-me-downs from an older brother.  But hell, it was the best I could do.  Ready to leave, I went to grab my things but realized I didn’t really have anything: Kyra had taken my wallet, phone, and the only set of house keys.  With empty pockets, I headed out.  Unfortunately, I had to leave the front door unlocked, but who would ever know?  I wouldn’t be gone that long.

It was a warm spring day.  I hadn’t been outside in two whole days, and it felt wonderful.  I made my way down the street, enjoying the green grass and patches of flowers in bloom.  For once, I was happy and free.

It was pretty much a straight shot from my subdivision to work, and I could walk along the same road most of the way.  I was getting a little uncomfortable, though.  It was a busy sidewalk, and it was unnerving being around so many people who were anywhere from one to two feet taller than me.  I was used to seeing the tops of people’s heads in the past, but now all I could see were midsections and long legs striding all around me.  My short legs couldn’t carry me very fast, and I was bumped and jostled several times by big people who either didn’t see me or were in too big a rush to care.  At least, one of them was a real beauty – I gaped up at her as she whooshed by, sidestepping another pedestrian while bumping into me and almost knocking me over.  I didn’t mind, though, as her round, firm tushy pressed into my chest.

But my pleasure immediately faded as I saw a creepy-looking guy looming to my right.  He was walking alongside me and I noticed him glancing down at me now and then.  He had a stereotypical thin mustache, greasy hair, crooked teeth, and gaudy unbuttoned shirt showing too much chest hair – everything you’d expect in a child molester.

I started to get nervous, and I picked up the pace a bit.  He lagged behind, and I thought I had lost him when I felt his hand brush my back, with the pretense of stepping aside for someone else.  This was not good.  I slipped around a few other pairs of legs and scrambled forward, trying not to get run over.  Looking back, I saw I had built a good distance between us, but turning forward I stopped abruptly as a car whizzed by in front of me.  I was stuck at an intersection.  I turned and saw him approaching, and the sick perv was staring right at me!  Oh crap.  I was hemmed in by giants on all sides, with nowhere to run.  I edged my way to the curb, getting as far away from him as possible.  But I had run out of real estate, and he was closing in.  Don’t panic, there’s nothing he can do in this crowd, I told myself.  But I panicked anyway as I saw him still looking at me, inching slowly forward in the crowd.

Then, miraculously, I heard tires screech behind me and heard a voice which recently I had come to dread, but which I now welcomed whole-heartedly.  “James Michael, get in the car this instant!”  Kyra had pulled up in the car next to the curb and popped the passenger door open, and she didn’t have to tell me twice.  I jumped in and slammed the door shut.

“It’s you!” I said in astonishment.  “I was just –“

“Not another word,” she snapped.  I shut my mouth as she turned us around and headed home.  Her teeth were clenched and her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel tightly.  She seemed furious, yes, but there was also something else which I couldn’t place.  Anyways, as she drove home, I had trouble keeping my eyes off of her, wearing another of her gut-wrenching outfits.

We got back home and went inside the house.  Then I felt myself being whirled around and lifted into the air.  She had her hands under my armpits and carried me with ease to the wall, holding me against it in front of her.  My feet dangled two feet off the ground as she held my face almost level with hers.  “Where the hell were you, Jimmy!  I told you never to leave the house under any circumstances!” she yelled at me.  Her hands were clamped painfully around my chest, making it a bit hard to breathe.

After a pause, her hard gaze softened and her grip on me loosened considerably.  “I was so worried about you, Jimmy!  Can you imagine coming home and finding your little boy missing, with the front door unlocked!  I thought some bad people had come and taken you away!” she said like a concerned mother.  She pulled my hanging body into hers and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace.  She said into my ear, “I can’t believe you were just walking through that crowd around all those strangers!  It would be so easy for someone to just snatch your little body up!”

I … I didn’t know what to make of this.  I had expected a spanking, verbal abuse, and God knows what else.  But instead, her voice had become so … caring and impassioned, truly concerned for my well-being.  I was actually a bit touched.  I even started to tell her what had happened but thought better of it.

“What is it Jimmy?” she asked, holding me out in midair in front of her.  “Tell Mommy,” she demanded.

“Well, uh, there was this one guy who made me, uh, a little scared.  He followed me around and kept looking at me.  But you came just in time.”

Kyra’s eyes grew wide.  “Oh my God!  I can’t even imagine what he might have done to you, and you would have been powerless to stop him!  Oh!” she said, deeply pained at the thought.  She pulled me into her with renewed strength.

“I’m sorry, Mommy, it won’t happen again, I swear!”

“I’m mad at you, Jimmy, but I’m even madder at myself.  It was stupid of me to leave a little child like you all alone.  That’s the last time I make that mistake,” she declared.  “From now on, I’m going to make sure you’re under adult supervision at all times.”

What!?  Oh God, no.  “But I’ve learned my lesson!  I’ll be good!”  I continued to beg as she shifted my weight around in her arms then positioned me so that I was straddling her hip like a child.  She cupped my bottom with her left hand as I put my arms around her neck for support.  Kyra simply ignored my pleas as she walked us over to the bottom of the stairs, a look of determination on her face.  Then she put her right hand to my mouth and said, “Enough.  Now tell me what you were doing away from home,” she demanded calmly.

I told her about my boss threatening to fire me if I wasn’t there today, how I needed to see the doctor, and how I thought she’d be home too late for me to make it on time.  Then I asked why she wasn’t at school.  “Don’t try to change the subject, young man.  That’s no excuse to leave home,” she said condescendingly.  I thought it was a great excuse, but my opinion no longer carried any weight.

“Your safety comes first,” she continued.  “Hmm … what to do with you the rest of the day … Ah, I’ll tell you what.  I’m leaving for school after lunch.  One of my teachers runs afternoon detention.  He has a huge crush on me so he’ll pretty much do whatever I want him to.  So I can easily convince him to watch you for the afternoon.  You’re technically much too young now to be on a high school campus but it won’t be a problem.  But first we can stop by your office and sort things out with your boss, then stop by the doctor’s to pick up your test results.  But,” she said, squeezing my butt and holding my chin up to her gaze, “I’ll only do this much for you if you promise to be on your absolute best behavior.”  I nodded graciously.  I had half-expected to never be allowed to set foot outside the house again; this was truly unexpected.  I was almost … grateful for her generosity, in spite of it all.

She carried me effortlessly up the stairs and walked into her second (old) bedroom.  Putting me down, she said, “Now, just because I’m being so nice to you doesn’t mean you won’t still be punished when we get home.  But before I decide your punishment, I’m going to inspect my rooms to see if they’re clean.  You may stand over there patiently and watch,” she said, gesturing to the corner.  I obeyed without question.

Kyra was every bit as meticulous in her inspection as I was in my cleaning last night.  Alas, there were inevitably some specks of dust or tiny crumbs here and there that I missed.  Kyra picked up a few crumbs and loose hairs as she moved about the room.  “Hold these,” she told me as she placed the crumbs and hairs on my proffered hand.  Then her gaze moved upwards as she inspected the closet shelf.  Where I could just barely reach from atop a chair, she was able to reach easily in only her heels.  “Hmm, good,” she muttered.  I was glad I remembered that.  She then checked all around the window sill, which I also cleaned.  But the last thing she checked was the light – it was mounted on the ceiling with a translucent globe covering the bulb.  As she wiped her finger across it, it came up dusty.  “Tsk, tsk,” she chided.  “I expected better.”

“But I couldn’t reach it, not even in the chair!” I exclaimed.  Well, I had forgotten to clean it anyway, but still.  Kyra gave me a stern sidelong glance and I fell silent, bowing my head in deference.  “Follow,” she ordered, beckoning me with her finger.  We went to her new master bedroom and she repeated the inspection with the same result: more crumbs, and more dust on the light.

She beckoned again, and I followed her down the stairs into the kitchen.  Turning to me, she said, “So, Jimmy, do you think you did a good job cleaning my rooms?”  She was testing me.

Nonetheless, I defended myself.  “Well, overall I think it was good …” I said uncertainly, my voice quavering.  “I mean, I worked as hard as I could all day long and I stayed up past midnight.”

“I didn’t ask you how long you spent,” she retorted, “I asked if you are satisfied with your work.  Did you do what I asked you to do?”

“Well, uh, yeah?  Kinda?” I said, more as a question than a statement.

Kyra was growing impatient with me.  Putting her hands on her hips, she stared down at me and said, “Do I really have to explain it to you like you’re a 5-year-old?  How clean did I ask you to make my rooms?”

I gulped.  “Spotless.  Not a hair on the ground.”

“And what did I find on the ground?”

I grimaced.  “Some hairs.”

“Not to mention the lights, which were such a mess.  You need to get back there right now and finish what I asked of you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  As I turned away, though, I remembered something.  “I’m too short to reach the lights, even with the chair.”

“You’ll just have to get creative then,” she replied coldly.

“Isn’t it dangerous for me?  What if I fall?” I replied cleverly to get out of this work.

“I’ll be watching to make sure you do your job, and I’ll catch you if you fall,” she said, foiling my plan.  I grudgingly hauled the closest dining room chair up the stairs.  I realized it was even more work than yesterday at my new height.  After much exertion, and some embarrassment at Kyra seeing my troubles, I got it up there and put it into place under the light.  Climbing up was even a bit of a challenge, as the seat was about as high as my inseam now.  I was still several inches too short, as predicted, so I climbed back down and hunted for something to prop me up.  To my annoyance, Kyra followed me everywhere I went, watching in silence.  I found it incredible to think how easily Kyra could accomplish this simple task just by raising her arms to the lights, yet for me to accomplish the same felt like a grueling whole-body workout.

I pulled out a stool from the bathroom and returned.  Climbing on top of the chair and stool, I was now just high enough to reach the ceiling if I was up on my toes.  At least now I stood taller than Kyra, if only just.

“Um, could you get me the cleaning supplies?” I asked Kyra nicely.  She just stood there with hands on her hips staring up at me blankly until I sighed and went downstairs to retrieve them myself.  What a bitch, I thought.  God, everything was so much easier at 6’6”.  I came back and cleaned the light, with Kyra pointing out every tiny bit of dust I missed.  Then I repeated the ordeal, dragging the chair to the master bedroom and cleaning that light.  But this time, I slipped as I extended to reach the last spot on the light.  Thankfully, Kyra caught me.  I looked down as she did so and realized just how far down I would have fallen.

She set me down and leaned in towards me.  She leaned way over but was still a head taller than me.  “From now on, when I ask you to clean my room, this is what I expect, OK?” she said, talking down to me.  I nodded.  She stood up straight and said, “I’m hungry.  It’s time for lunch.”  I went to take the chair back down, but she stopped me.  “It’ll take you forever to bring that down.  After lunch,” she commanded.

Kyra got out leftovers and put some on two plates, not even asking me what I wanted.  I sat down as she microwaved them then brought them over.  “Would you get the drinks, Jimmy?” she asked as she set our plates on the table.  I went to the fridge.  “So, Jimmy, after lunch we are going to – WHAT THE HELLL!!!” she exclaimed as her chair gave out and she crashed to the floor.  Only then did I realize my mistake: I had taken her chair upstairs, causing her to instead sit on the broken one.

Bewildered, she picked herself up and brushed bits of wood off her shirt.  Meanwhile, sensing my peril, I was slowly backing away, shimmying along the kitchen counter towards the garage door.  In retrospect, it would have been best to deny everything and she might have thought it just broke on its own.  But I wasn’t thinking straight, and my instinct was to get the hell out of there.

“That was weird. …Um, Jimmy, what are you doing?” she asked, seeing me cowering away from her.  “Jimmmyyyy…” she said slowly.  “Did you know about this?”  She approached me.  “Did you break the chair?”

I tried to shrink away but she gave me no room to escape, placing her feet on either side of me along the counter.  “No, why would you say that?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.  But she just leaned further, and I was forced to bend my back against the top of the counter and hold my head back in an attempt to keep away from her.

She moved in closer still, her feet apart and touching the counter in front of her, her thighs pressing in on either side of my stomach and chest, her hands on her hips, her abdomen filling my vision.  My eyes were barely level with her belly button.  Leaning back and craning my neck, I could just see her eyes peering down at me over her rack.

She stood over me motionless for at least half a minute.  By then, my entire body was shaking in fear and awe.  Then, in a quiet, perfectly calm voice, she asked, “Did you break the chair and try to hide it from me?”

My voice cracked.  “Y-Yes, Mommy,” I admitted.

She loomed above me for another excruciating minute.  Ever so slowly, I tried to creep sideways along the counter in a hopeless attempt to get away from her.  Her hand shot out to my shoulder just below my neck.  She squeezed hard and pushed, painfully bending my back even farther.  I gave out a pitiful cry.  Looking up beyond her boobs, I saw an evil smile creep across her face as she said, “I’ve decided on a slight … change of plans today.  Let’s just say I won’t be quite as generous as promised,” she chuckled.

She released me from her grasp.  Looking at the clock, she told me, “We’ll have to hurry if I’m going to make my 5th period class.  Go change your clothes.”

“But why?” I complained, greatly preferring this outfit to my other kiddie outfits.  “Can’t I stay in this?”

Kyra shook her head in exasperation and grabbed my arm.  “I don’t have time for this.”  She hauled me up the stairs brusquely and opened the door to my room.  “Jimmy, what the hell are all these?” she asked, pointing to the pile of boxes I had filled with my belongings.

“That’s my stuff!  I didn’t have time to arrange them in my room yet.”

“Jimmy, you don’t need this stuff anymore.  I already put everything you need in your room yesterday.” 

What!?  There was practically nothing in here except my new clothes and bedcover.  “We’ll deal with this later.  Come on,” she said impatiently, grabbing my ‘Hey, Arnold’ shirt and matching shorts.  She proceeded to change me herself, brusquely removing my old clothes and putting on my new outfit.  She engulfed my hand in hers, took me downstairs, gathered her keys and purse, and headed out the door.

After a few minutes in the car, I ventured, “Mommy, where are we going?”

“Why, Jimmy, I’m taking you to the doctor’s and then to work.”

“Really?” I asked, pleasantly surprised that she was sticking to her word.  “But then what?” I asked apprehensively.

“Oh, I’ll find someplace for you,” she replied ominously.  “You’re lucky if I don’t leave you in the trunk today after what you pulled.”  I gulped.  I had bad memories of being trapped in her closet all day, and the trunk would be a good 20 degrees hotter!

We reached the doctor’s office and entered the waiting room.  “We’re here to see Dr. Williams,” Kyra announced to the receptionist.

She asked for the patient’s name.  “Jimmy Roberts,” Kyra answered, leaving me totally out of the conversation.

“Let’s see … Ah, do I have a James Roberts on file, but we have him down as 41 years of age,” she said, eyeing me quizzically.

“Trust me, this little guy is he,” she said, ruffling my hair.  “The doctor knows his situation.”

“Uhhh, yeahhhhh,” the receptionist said slowly, not wanting to call her a liar to her face.  “Well, in any case, I don’t see any appointment scheduled for today.”

Kyra replied authoritatively, “That’s OK, he has some test results in and we only need the doctor for a few minutes.”

“Well, I’m sorry ma’am, but Dr. Williams is completely booked today.  He won’t be able to see him until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“It won’t take long,” Kyra said, and, to the amazement of both me and the receptionist, she took my hand, opened the door next to the reception window, and walked through.

“Hey!  You can’t go in there!” the receptionist called out.  Kyra paid her no heed as she continued down the hallway, looking inside the examination rooms for Dr. Williams.  She found him in one of the rooms talking to a patient with the door cracked open.

“Dr. Williams,” Kyra said, barging in.

“What is this!?” he asked, whirling around indignantly.  “Oh – what a surprise!  It’s … It’s Kyra!  You’re looking well today.”  I noticed his eyes light up then quickly scan her body up and down.  That lousy bastard.  I hated him now more than ever.

“Um … but this is highly inappropriate.  I’m in the middle of an examination,” Dr. Williams continued, ushering us out the door.  He made no indication that he recognized me.  “I don’t recall you having an appointment today, dear.  But if you go see the receptionist I’m sure she’ll sort everything out.”  He guided us out the door and began closing it.

Kyra’s hand shot out and pushed the door open.  Taken off guard, Dr. Williams stumbled back with bewilderment.  “Actually,” Kyra said as she approached him, “I’d rather see you now.”  She rested her hand lightly on the doctor’s shoulder and moved in close.

The doctor wasn’t short, but still Kyra stood a head taller than him in her heels.  He nervously stood before her, alternating his gaze between her eyes and her ample cleavage hanging before him.  After a few seconds, he said uncertainly, “Um, this isn’t a good time.  Please leave.”

Not to be denied, Kyra clamped down on his shoulder, causing him to yelp in surprise.  “No, you’re going to see us right now,” she declared firmly.  She turned her gaze to the patient in the chair who had watched the whole scene in amazement.  “Get out,” she commanded, and the man scampered away and shut the door behind him.  “Jimmy, sit down,” she ordered, pointing to the examination chair.  I quickly complied, knowing the price of disobedience.  “Now, doc, you are going to see little Jimmy now.”

Cowering in fear, he nodded in consent.  Kyra released him and he obediently turned to me.  At least I wasn’t the only grown man Kyra could so easily bend to her will.  “So, is this y-your brother, then?” he asked, rattled.

“Don’t you recognize him?  This is James Roberts, the shrinking guy.”

His eyes grew wide.  “My God!  I hadn’t realized how small he’d get!  Unbelievable!” he said, inspecting my body as if it were some strange insect.  “How tall is he now?” he asked.  I realized that I hadn’t been included in a single conversation since I had gotten here.

“Four feet, four inches,” Kyra replied as the doctor looked on in wonderment.

After poking and prodding me a bit, the doctor stood up and told Kyra, “Well, I have some bad news and some good news.  The bad news is, while we haven’t identified the specific pathogen affecting his body, it’s related to a known form of bacterium, and based on what we know of it we are quite certain the effects will continue for some time, maybe indefinitely.”  Indefinitely?  As in, I would shrink to nothingness?  “The good news is that we have some antibiotics that work on the related pathogen and we believe it will eradicate this strain as well.  If it works, it would stop the effects of the pathogen immediately.  That is why we urged you to come see us at the end of last week.”

“Well, he was tied up last week,” Kyra replied, cocking an eyebrow at me to make sure I caught the pun, reminding me of last Friday when she tied me under her bed while she and her boyfriend … I didn’t want to think about it.

“Oh, I see.  Well, uh, as I was saying, we estimate a 90% chance of success with the antibiotic.  Of course, we’ve never seen this particular strain before so there very well may be unforeseen side effects, but it’s certainly worth the risk.  I’m prepared to administer the antidote right now.”

“So, if it works, will he return to his original height?” Kyra asked.

“Absolutely not, I’m afraid.  The effects of the pathogen are irreversible.  It would only prevent further shrinkage.”  Kyra looked at me with an unsettling smile as she heard this.  The doctor continued, “I’ll go get the antidote now.”

Kyra shocked us both by grabbing his arm and stopping him.  “Actually, doc,” she said, looking down at me with an evil gleam in her eye, “Little Jimmy here has been awfully naughty lately.  I believe it would do him some good to gain a new ‘perspective’ on things.  I don’t think he’s ready for the antidote quite yet.”

I stood up in shock.  “WHAT!!?” I exclaimed, speaking up for the first time that visit.  “Are you mad!?  You’re just going to let me keep shrinking!?”

The doctor was bewildered as well.  “Ma’am, I really think you ought to reconsider!  These are serious consequences we’re talking about.  And,” he continued, gulping, “technically he is still an adult and has the right to make his own decision.”

I had to make stand here.  “That’s right!  I’m still an adult and you can’t tell me what to do!”

She loomed threateningly over me.  “What did you say, little boy?”

I was scared shitless of her, but I held my ground.  “I’m not your little boy, Kyra, I’m a man!”  To a stranger, this statement would have seemed hilarious coming from the high-pitched voice of a 4’4” person who had every appearance of being a 9-year-old boy. 

But Kyra was not amused.  She picked me clean off the ground with one arm and sat on the examination chair.  Within seconds she had pulled my pants down and roughly turned me face down across her lap.  I started to yell for help but was immediately silenced by her hand.  She reached over to the nearby counter and grabbed a roll of gauze, then crammed it into my mouth.  “That oughta shut you up,” she sneered.  I heard the sound of feet shuffling on the floor.  I then heard Kyra snap harshly at the doctor, “Don’t you move another inch.  I’m not through with you yet.”  The shuffling stopped.  The next thing I heard was a loud whirring sound as she started some machine up, no doubt to mask the sound of her slaps on my butt.

Kyra then proceeded to give me the worst beating of my life, well beyond any other she had given me yet.  I had immediately started wailing in pain, but the huge roll of gauze jammed in my mouth was surprisingly effective at muffling my cries.  As the blows rained down on my ass, she told me, “This is for forgetting you’re a little boy,” and many blows later, “This is for forgetting I’m your mother,” and then, for the longest beating of them all, “This is for calling me Kyra again.  I warned you.”

The blows just kept coming, the pain becoming more unbearable with every slap.  During those few minutes, I forgot everything about my life, my job, my shrinking – my mind was filled with nothing but pain: excruciating, obliterating pain.

At long last, the blows stopped and I felt myself being lifted off her legs.  She let me down on my feet and I tried to stand but immediately crumpled in a heap on the floor, tears still pouring down my cheeks.  Through my bitter sobs, I saw Kyra walk towards the doctor and back him into a corner.  I couldn’t make out all the words, but I surmised that she was commanding him not to tell anyone about what just happened, and that he was scared shitless.  I heard a vigorous, “Yes ma’am!” then I saw her walk towards me.

I felt my world shift as she easily picked me up and sat me on her hip with my legs straddling her midsection like before.  The doctor hastily opened the door for her, and as we walked by Kyra told him, “Thank you, Dr. Williams.  We’ll be back for that treatment in, oh, maybe a week, maybe longer.”  I gulped, not wanting to calculate what my height would be after each passing week.

As we passed by, I saw a few tears streaming down the doctor’s face.  “Y-Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you then,” he replied as he wiped them away.  As we walked down the hallway, I looked back over Kyra’s shoulder and saw a nurse approach him.  I heard her ask, “Is everything alright?  I heard shouting.”  “Yes, yes, everything’s absolutely fine,” he said emphatically.  We then walked into the waiting room.  The receptionist stood and stared as she saw Kyra walk by with me on her hip, my eyes still wet and puffy from the ordeal in the examination room.  “Have a nice day,” Kyra told her snidely as she carried me out to the car.

I was still shell-shocked as she sat me down on the passenger’s side, walked around to the driver’s seat, and headed for my office.  I would hate for my colleagues to see me like this, crying like a baby and dressed like a little kid to boot.  But at least the office was a good ways away, giving me time to get over the former problem, although I knew I couldn’t avoid the latter.

We pulled into the parking lot and Kyra shut off the engine.  “Now, Jimmy, do you know why I punished you so much?”  I didn’t respond, still too shy to speak after that humiliating beating.  “It was partly because you were naughty and disrespectful, but the big reason was that you still see yourself as a grown-up, and I’m trying as hard as I can to help you get over that illusion.”  This bitch was crazy!  Her idea of helping me get over it is to beat me senseless?  But I didn’t dare voice my opinion.

Kyra unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned toward me until her face was inches above mine.  I also noticed that this opened up an immense valley of cleavage down below.  Jesus, each of her melons had to be the size of my entire head now.  “Someday you’ll understand that I’m only doing what’s best for you.  You’ll see.”  I gaped in awe when her bosom squeezed together as her arm reached out to rub my belly.  I moaned softly at her touch.  She was completely overwhelming my senses again, and I began to forget that this was the same woman who had so savagely beaten me a short while ago.  “Feeling better, Jimmy?  Ready to head up to your office?”  I actually was suddenly feeling better, thanks to her.  I nodded sheepishly and Kyra said, “Good Jimmy.  That’s a good wittle boy.”

 

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