Dejected, I sat uselessly for quite some time, gazing up at these women as they continued their grown-up conversation without me.  But I soon had trouble focusing on what they were saying thanks to an incredible distraction I soon encountered…

As she sat in front of me, legs crossed, Kyra’s body alone would have been more than enough to draw my complete attention, but I think at one point she noticed me staring at her, and that’s when the real trouble began.  As I looked on, Kyra slowly uncrossed her legs and set them apart a few inches while she continued to chat.  But I had just the right vantage point to benefit fully from this situation: sitting directly in front of her, I was able to look directly down her thighs and right at her panties, exposed beneath the tight wrapping of her dress.  My body reacted with an involuntary spasm, one which I believe Kyra noticed because of the slight smile I detected on her lips.  That was the only acknowledgment I saw from her as she lifted her opposite leg and crossed them the other way.

I sat there (still admiring her body, of course) trying to decide if that had been intentional, when not two minutes later she uncrossed her legs again.  I tried to keep my eyes closed but it was no use; I was mesmerized.  This time, she gave a clear indication of her intentions: under the pretense of adjusting her dress, she pulled the bottom edge of her dress side to side and then up, causing me to gasp as she revealed a full view of her thong between her sleek, sexy legs.  Her eyes darted to mine as she did this, raising her eyebrows at me seductively for a moment before lowering her dress and turning back to Amy.  She was toying with me, and it certainly didn’t help that I wasn’t a part of any conversations since it gave me nothing else to do but stare at my daughter.

It got much worse, though.  Not done having fun with me yet, she broke off her conversation long enough to turn to me, pat her lap invitingly, and say, “Come on up, Jimmy!”

I shook my head no, mostly due to the renewed erection I was sporting.  She repeated, “Come on, Jimmy, you’ll be warmer and comfier up here.”  A twinkle in her eyes told me it was non-optional.

Seeing my hesitation, Amy joined in, “Awww, don’t worry, James, we won’t bite!”  She held her hand out for me to take it.  I figured that if I just tried to walk away Kyra would come over and snatch me up anyway, so there was no point in resisting.  I took Amy’s oversized hand, and she helped pull me up onto the couch (which admittedly would have been much more difficult otherwise) and I began to try to nestle in between the two ladies.  But then I felt Kyra’s arms wrap around my torso as she pulled me onto her lap.

“There you go!  See, this isn’t so bad,” Amy encouraged, apparently oblivious to my embarrassment at sitting on Kyra’s lap next to them.

Kyra, though, still holding her glass of wine, said, “Whoops, hold on a sec,” as she downed the rest of her glass.  “There we go,” she added, handing the glass to Ms. Johnson to put on the end table.  “Wouldn’t want to have any more spills, would we Jimmy?”  She lifted her legs up and down playfully, bouncing me in her lap.

“Oh my gosh, thank you for reminding me, Kyra,” Amy said gratefully, almost matter-of-factly, as if it were simply a matter of course that they should keep food and beverages away from clumsy little me.  Apparently she didn’t even realize how insulting it was to my dignity, as she also quickly finished her glass of wine and set it safely aside.

The three of them resumed their conversation, ignoring me as before.  I looked to either side of me: six long, smooth thighs were laid out in a row, with me in the middle.  As each of them spoke I craned my neck up to see their faces.  Even in the makeshift booster seat that was Kyra’s lap, my head was still only as high as Amy’s shoulders, but still below Kyra’s.

But Kyra was not content to let me just sit there peacefully.  I felt her arms ever-so-slowly wrapping around my torso, pulling me closer to her.  I feebly tried to resist – without letting the other two see my struggles – but it was useless; soon, I found my back pressing firmly against her, her arms locking me in beyond hope of escape.  The fabric of her dress felt incredibly soft, even through my shirt, and the heat of her body warmed me from all sides.  And, of course, the spongy firmness of her breasts squeezing against my neck and upper back felt simply … indescribable.  The tight wrapping of her dress added just the right amount of firmness to her braless chest, and as Kyra continued to chat with the other two she gently brought her hand up and pulled my head back against her, so that her two huge melons formed a sort of headrest, pressing against the entire length of my shoulders and supporting my neck in the space between.

I was becoming deliriously hot with arousal on Kyra’s lap while the other two women carried on, completely oblivious to the incredible effect Kyra was having on me by simply setting me on her lap.  I was now grateful that they were ignoring me, since just a passing glance at my condition would probably tip them off as to what was going on.  I felt my dick poking up urgently against my pants, and as clandestinely as possible I slid my hands down and cupped them over my crotch, making it look like I was just folding my hands in my lap.

Kyra began to shift her muscles slightly in the pretense of getting comfortable, but in reality she did it to jostle my body around and cause her juicy breasts to rub across my shoulders and neck.  I could focus on nothing but the miraculous texture and consistency of her breasts as they mashed themselves into my back from all angles.  I couldn’t ask Kyra to stop, not with Amy and Ms. Johnson sitting right beside us.  I couldn’t hold back her gyrations, as overwhelmingly powerful as she was, nor could I break her hold on me and leave her lap.  I was stuck here, desperately praying that at least Amy wouldn’t notice what was happening to me.  That was all I could do.

Kyra, though, noticed me covering myself up and decided to change that.  “Oh my gosh, your hands are freezing!” Kyra exclaimed.  It was actually true; in my excitement, my body had refocused the blood from my extremities inward, leaving my hands quite cold.  But Kyra’s real purpose was revealed when she reached down and wrapped both of her hands around mine, effortlessly pulling them off my lap despite my muscles straining to keep them there.

“Ooh, let me feel!” Amy exclaimed in concern.  She leaned towards me and took my hand from Kyra, saying, “Wow, they ARE cold!”  Ms. Johnson did the same, and now I had all three women looking down in the direction of my crotch; if they so much as glanced past my hands, they would see my erection poking out all-too-obviously.

I held my breath in apprehension.  Thankfully, both ladies released my hands, but to my dismay Kyra grabbed them again, purposefully cradling them against my stomach with her powerful arms.  “I wonder why he’s so cold?” Ms. Johnson pondered.  “It feels just fine in here.”

“Yeah, it does,” Amy agreed.  “Poor James!  Maybe his small body can’t hold in heat as well anymore.”  I didn’t appreciate how they kept talking ABOUT me, not TO me – but that was the least of my worries right now.

“You’re probably right, Amy,” Kyra told her.  “Maybe that’s why he likes it so much when I hold him – he loves to just snuggle up against my big, warm body.  Don’t you, Jimmy?” she asked tenderly.

I didn’t know how to respond, and in my still-highly-aroused state I only replied, “Yes.”

“In fact,” Kyra continued, “he can’t seem to get enough of it.  He would lay with me for hours if I let him.”  Kyra’s eyes were full of mischief as she looked down at me.

“Awwww, that’s so sweet!  Jimmy never told me that!  The other day he went on and on about how vicious and mean he thought you’ve been treating him.  But now I’m starting to wonder just how much Jimmy had blown things out of proportion.”

Oh dear god.  Oh no, no, no.  I couldn’t have Amy believing that I actually somehow enjoyed or accepted what Kyra had been doing to me lately, as if I had secretly been hiding this ‘truth’ from Amy or something.

But in this position I couldn’t really speak up against it – especially not given my high levels of arousal which would become immediately obvious as soon as I would try to speak up.  So I just stared up at Amy pleadingly, trying to show her that her last statement wasn’t the case.

But Amy just gave me a courteous smile, and I got the sense that she didn’t really feel I was capable anymore of a mature, dispassionate outlook on things or that I could be trusted to be honest with her; she believed she wouldn’t really know the truth until she heard Kyra’s side of things.  Amy patted my thigh condescendingly then raised her eyes to Kyra expectantly – and it absolutely devastated my morale.

“Well, Amy,” Kyra replied, “I must admit I’ve had to be strict with him plenty of times, and Jimmy might think it’s unfair, but it’s really the only way I can help him understand his new place in life.”  She began petting my hair possessively.  “But, despite a few setbacks here and there, I think he’s finally starting to learn to respect my authority and better judgment – and even to enjoy and accept his new place, too.”

Amy nodded in assent but then frowned as a note of discord was now raised in her mind, not yet ready to abandon my side completely yet, it seemed.  “Actually, Kyra, there’s … something I wanted to ask you about, to hear your side of things for once.  James told me you’ve been taking him to the daycare the last couple days.”  Kyra nodded happily, seeing nothing wrong at all about this.  Amy continued, “The thing is, Kyra, I know you have his best interests in mind, but don’t you think it’s just, I don’t know, degrading?  I know Jimmy can’t just be left alone by himself all day”—I grimaced as she said this—“but there must be some place more for … adults, right?  Like, someone you know who can watch him during the day?  I just don’t think it’s right to put him in with a bunch of little kids!”  Amy tried to keep her composure and address Kyra respectfully, but still her emotions managed to seep through a bit.  Maybe Kyra had been mean to Jimmy; maybe she hadn’t.  But surely Jimmy didn’t deserve that.

Kyra acted surprised at Amy’s concerns.  “Oh!  Well, I guess I never thought of it that way.”  That was bull crap and I knew it.

“Really?” Amy replied, taken a bit by surprise.  Fortunately at least to Amy it seemed obvious why me being at a daycare could be objectionable.

But Kyra was playing another angle – and playing it quite well, unfortunately.  “Oh, no, you misunderstand me, Amy,” Kyra replied with a look of sincerity and compassion that could almost have fooled even me.  “It’s just that Jimmy is so happy there, you know?  If you could only see him there, you’d see that he’s not uncomfortable at all!”

It was Amy’s turn to be surprised.  “A-Are you sure??  I mean, can you imagine how it would feel to be treated like a 6-year-old, having to play and interact with actual kids?  Why, if I were him I would just shrink into a corner and cry!!”

By now I was becoming truly agitated now on Kyra’s lap, trying to convey to Amy how totally right she was, that I hated every minute of daycare.  I even began to speak up now, too, and Amy was also starting to take notice of my distress – but just then I felt my daughter’s long, powerful fingers wrap around my chin and press against my lips to silence them, as Kyra explained my agitated reaction by telling Amy, “Don’t worry, Amy – he’s just acting like this because he’s embarrassed to admit it to you.  But the very first thing he told me after the daycare today was how much he enjoyed and can’t wait to go back tomorrow!”

It was the clearest, most boldfaced lie that had ever been told about me, but amidst my futile struggling I could see that Amy was at least partially starting to believe it.  Kyra clamped down even tighter on me, using her strength in a way that Amy probably didn’t fully realize, my daughter sought to press her advantage by telling Amy, “I swear, Amy.  You’re right – apparently he hated it at first.  But you wouldn’t believe how much he’s changed since yesterday!  Every time I come to pick him up, he’s laughing and playing enthusiastically with a new friend of his, playing with Barbie dolls and LEGOs.”

“What!?” Amy replied uncertainly.  “I have a hard time believing that – not that I think you’re lying, of course, but I just can’t picture James enjoying something like that.”

“Oh, if you saw him and Susie playing, you would have no doubts about his happiness.”

Ms. Johnson, who had been listening quietly until then, spoke up, “You wouldn’t happen to be talking about Sunnyside Day Care Center, would you?”

“Why, yes!” Kyra replied as she swiveled her head to Ms. Johnson.  “How did you know?”

“Is Susie about his height, with red hair and freckles?”  Kyra and I both nodded, wondering where this was going.  “Oh my gosh!” Ms. Johnson exclaimed.  “I believe the little girl you were talking about is none other than my niece, Susie Johnson!”

All three of us – me, Kyra, and Amy – said in unison, “What!?”  Ms. Johnson continued, “My sister lives in town and takes Susie to that same day care every day.  And heck, I even saw Susie yesterday, and she told me about this new friend she made named Jimmy, but I never made the connection!  She wouldn’t stop talking about how much fun he was to play with, and she even called him her ‘best friend in the whole world!”

“Unbelievable!” Amy said.

Kyra was giddy with excitement at this new development.  I, meanwhile, was absolutely horrified to have this new information brought to light.  I would say that Kyra must somehow have had a hand in this, but not in this case – it just wasn’t possible.  She couldn’t have known I would have befriended Susie, of all the people there.  No, it appeared that now even the universe itself was conspiring against me.

At this point, I just had to act.  I peeled Kyra’s fingers aside just long enough to tell Amy, “No, it’s not what you think – Susie and I were just … just …”

It was Amy’s turn to raise her fingers to my lips to silence me.  “It’s OK, Jimmy,” she said compassionately, though a bit uncomfortably.  “Don’t be embarrassed!  It’s … uh … good that you found a friend, even if she’s just …”  Her voice trailed off as she tried to absorb this new information – as surprising as it was, she now seemed to think that she had hard evidence of my ‘changes’, both mental and physical.  But she seemed to decide not to judge me for it, probably figuring that I couldn’t help it, after all.  After regarding me, her former colleague, for a few moments as I sat on my daughter’s lap, Amy took a deep breath and proclaimed softly, “Well, I suppose a day care might be just the right place for Jimmy after all.”

My heart sank in my chest upon hearing these words.  I wanted to stand up, pounding my chest to say, ‘This is me!  I am a man!!”  But I could not, because my daughter’s arms were already coiling back around my frail, pathetic body, already squeezing the air out of my lungs, strong enough to weaken anything I might try to say at this point.  And I knew it was futile anyways – Amy apparently no longer trusted my word over Kyra’s.  A flood of shame washed over me as I dropped my head in silence.

Ms. Johnson, sensing an awkward silence, lightened the mood by saying, “Well, seeing how Jimmy and Susie are best friends now, I’m sure they’d just love to get together outside of day care … maybe this weekend?”

Barely above a whisper, I replied, “No,” but my voice was drowned out by Kyra squealing, “Yes!  That sounds like a great idea!”  Kyra squeezed me tightly to her chest.  “I’m sure Jimmy would be delighted!  We’ll have to set up a time.”  So much for my opinion, I thought.  But as she pressed my shoulders against her chest, despite my shame, my attention was instantly drawn back to my erection, starting to throb again and still plainly visible in my lap.  I counted myself extremely fortunate that the other two hadn’t noticed – yet.

All of a sudden, though, my body began to rise into the air.  I clutched Kyra’s arms tightly out of instinct and fright to keep from plummeting to the quickly-receding ground.  Kyra, of course, was simply standing up with me in her arms, a simple action that I probably shouldn’t have been so overwhelmed and frightened by.  Then, Kyra used her enormous arms to maneuver my body towards Amy as she said, “Would you mind holding him for a minute?  I’ll get us some more drinks.”  I was now being held out to Amy, Kyra’s hands under my armpits, like a child.

“Sure, Kyra,” Amy agreed, reaching out to take me in her arms and bring me down to her lap.  Technically, Amy wasn’t quite as big as Kyra, but I couldn’t really tell – they both just seemed really damned big to me.

Amy had a huge smile on her face as she sat me sideways on her lap, putting one hand on my thighs and the other resting gently on my upper back.  She wasn’t relishing her physical superiority over me like Kyra did; instead, her gaze was one of compassion and tenderness.  She enjoyed the close physical connection that sitting on her lap provided, and her body language seemed inviting, soothing, almost maternal.

I admit, it was a bit of a rush being so close to the woman I had desired for so long, and even though it clearly wasn’t a sexual experience for her it certainly was for me.  But I knew that being held in her control like this could only lead to her viewing me as less than a man, as someone who needs her support and care.  “Amy,” I said, embarrassed, “Could you put me on the couch, please?”

Amy frowned in disappointment.  Not wanting to give me up, she replied casually, “Don’t worry about it; Kyra will be back in just a moment.”  Great, now what could I do?  If I protested further, she’d just think I was being a jerk.  Deciding it wasn’t a big deal, I remained seated on her massive thighs as she continued to look down at me caringly.  In a confidential whisper, though I was pretty sure Ms. Johnson could hear, Amy asked, “James, is it true that you enjoy going to the day care?”

This was my chance!  Amy would still fight for me.  I shook my head no and was about to tell her I hated it.  But suddenly it occurred to me that it might be unfair to Susie.  She was expecting me, and … It dawned on me that I might actually miss Susie if I didn’t get to play with her tomorrow.  I was deeply troubled to find this out about myself, but I didn’t tell Amy about it, instead deciding to push this thought out of my mind and tell her, “I don’t want to go back, Amy.”

Amy gave a sympathetic look and replied, “OK, James, I understand.  My mother lives 30 minutes away, and I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to look after you.  I’ll tell her the whole situation and I assure you that you’ll be treated like an adult.  How does that sound, James?”

I nodded eagerly and thanked her profusely.  My friend’s offer almost brought me to tears, despite the humiliating position of being on her lap.

Amy smiled and continued, “OK then, I’ll tell Kyra as soon as she sits down again.”  With that, her hand wrapped around my shoulder and pulled my body into hers, squeezing me in a warm hug.  As her arms enveloped me, my shoulder pressed snugly into her sizeable breasts, and though just half the size of Kyra’s, they were still plenty big next to my miniature proportions.

My cock stirred in my pants.  To make matters worse, Amy had wrapped her other arm around my legs, holding her hand against my side while laying her forearm along my thighs, dangerously close to my member.  I think she noticed the rustling of my penis in my pants because her eyes descended from my face to my lap, then grew wide.  “Oh!” she yelped in surprise, plainly seeing for the first time my dick creating an obvious tent in my pants.  Amy withdrew her arm and recoiled from our embrace, her cheeks just as red as my own from our mutual embarrassment at the situation.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept silent while I not-so-discreetly brought my hands to my lap to cover things up.  “Umm …” Amy started but was unable to add any more words.  We sat in extreme discomfort, never before having breached the friend barrier, always having a platonic relationship before now, although, of course, I had always wanted more – and even she had admitted on Monday that she had been interested too!  But I knew I had no chance in hell with her now, not with the body of a six-year-old boy.  I ached as I thought of what could have been; and all that the 2 years of sexual tension between us was good for now was to make this moment all the more uncomfortable.

Fortunately – or, as it turns out, disastrously – our attention was very soon pulled away from all this by the voice of Kyra from the kitchen: “What the--!?  Jimmy, get over here now!”  Kyra was pissed about something.  Something in the kitchen … Oh hell!  I had hoped she wouldn’t find out what I did in the pantry until after Amy was gone …

Amy, now with an inquisitive expression on her face, pushed me off her lap as she and Ms. Johnson stood up and followed me to the kitchen.  As I rounded the counter, I was confronted with Kyra’s piercing glare as she loomed above me, standing beside the propped-up shelf next to the pantry.  “Do you mind explaining to me just what in the hell this is doing here?  And how did you even get to it, way up there in the pantry?”  Of course, ‘way up there’ was only eye level to Kyra, but far, far out of reach for me.

I gulped and replied, as nicely as I could, “I was trying to climb up to get some food to eat when I accidentally slipped and made the top shelf come loose.”

Behind me, I heard Amy gasp softly and Ms. Johnson say, “You could have hurt yourself!”

“Damned right, he could have!” Kyra added angrily.  “Why would you ever try to reach the top shelf, just to get something to eat?”

“I couldn’t find anything on the lower shelves, and the fridge is—“

I was cut off when Kyra exclaimed, “Oh. My. God.”  Her eyes had fallen on the piece of paper containing what was effectively my death sentence, which I had placed on the next highest shelf.  She held it up for all to see as she told me, “I know exactly why you were trying to get up there.  You wanted to get rid of this, didn’t you!!?”  Her eyes pierced my very soul as she glared down at me in fury.

“No!  I didn’t remember that was there, I swear!  I just wanted to get some food and the paper fell down too!”

Kyra wasn’t convinced.  “Oh, how convenient,” she said sarcastically.  “You just happen to climb all the way up there, to the very spot where I hid this.  Of all the places in the house, you just happened to choose that one.”  She snorted in derision.

“What’s on the paper?” Ms. Johnson asked from behind me.

“Yeah, why would James want to get rid of it?” Amy added.

Kyra sighed, shaking her head.  “I wasn’t going to tell you girls this; I was just going to deal with it after you left.  But now I suppose I have no choice … Jimmy was apparently very, VERY naughty for his babysitter last night, and this is the list she left of all the bad things he did.”

I craned my neck to see Ms. Johnson give me a stern, disapproving look while Amy appeared taken aback by this sudden revelation.  “Oh!  … Well, I’m sure it couldn’t be that bad.  I mean, he’s been so well behaved lately, right?”  That a girl, Amy.  “What does the paper say?”

“I’ve only read the first line, but it was not good,” Kyra replied ominously.  She gestured towards the living room and told them, “Ladies, if you wouldn’t mind sitting on the couch, we can all read this together and figure out a punishment.”

I felt like a prisoner being transferred to another cell, the way these three giantesses surrounded me like guards, Kyra in back and the other two in front, keeping a wary eye on me to make sure I didn’t try an escape.  We sat on the couch again, except this time Kyra sat on the end and asked Ms. Johnson, “Would you mind holding him while I read?”  My former boss agreed (rather eagerly, it seemed) and sat in the middle seat with me on her thighs, wrapping me up in a hold which felt loose but which I knew was really no doubt unbreakable.

I knew how bad things looked, so I tried to be proactive and defend myself again while I still could.  Before Kyra began, I exclaimed, “The babysitter lied!  All that stuff is made up!  She just wanted to m—“

A huge hand came up and covered my mouth, stifling my protest.  “I think we’ll be the judge of that, little boy,” Ms. Johnson said dominantly.  No one stopped her as she continued to hold her hand in an absolutely air-tight seal over my mouth and nose.  I was angry at first – but then I began to panic as I was quickly using up my remaining air …

“I won’t let go until you’re calm again,” my frighteningly large boss said above me.  It only took me about two or three more seconds before I was doing exactly as she said.  It was such a simple – and easy – way for her to reprimand me, but it was brutally effective.

Once I had stopped resisting, she released her grip as promised and let me breathe again.  “Now shush,” she chided me sternly, exactly how a grownup would rebuke a child.

“Thank you, Becky,” Kyra told her simply, showing no concern for how I was being treated.  So I turned to Amy, hoping for some sympathy from her.  But she seemed conflicted, seeming like part of her wanted to protest this treatment – but the other part of her wanted to hear Kyra out first before passing judgment on me, not quite trusting me as an adult anymore.  It was this latter part of her that spoke up now, telling me softly, “It’s alright, James.  Please just let Kyra read the note, and we’ll decide from there.”

Just a minute ago, I thought Amy was starting to take my side – but now her confidence in me seemed to be slipping away all over again, to the point where it was out of my hands.  She was literally telling me now to stay quiet as she consulted Kyra and Ms. Johnson to decide my fate.  I once again had no say in the matter at all.

Disheartened, I turned back to Kyra as she cleared her throat and began.  “As I said, I’ve already read the first line, but I will read it again for you two to hear.”  She then proceeded to read the entire letter:

“ ‘Kyra, I’m listing all the bad things Jimmy did tonight.  I’m sure there was much more that I’m forgetting, but there were just too many to keep track of.  Here goes: Jimmy refused to eat the food you made him, and then he wouldn’t stop telling me to make him something else.  I told him it was your food or nothing, so he just took the skillet and dumped the whole meal down the drain…’ “

Yet again, despite my better judgment, I wanted to cry foul and say the truth, that the babysitter was lying.  But now even the mere touch of my boss’s fingers on my lips was enough to send shudders through my body as I knew for certain that speaking up at all would only forfeit my right to breathe once again.  I quivered in silence and fear as Kyra read the remainder of the letter.

“… ‘I was too late to stop most of it from going down the drain, but once I did he took what was left and started throwing it about the kitchen in a temper tantrum.  I had to clean up after him, and the whole rest of the night he kept whining about how hungry he was, only shutting up when I threatened to call you…’ “

I started to turn my head back to Amy to let her see the truth through my eyes, hoping that at least a nonverbal plea would be allowed.  But Ms. Johnson’s hand darted up and easily forced my head back in place.  It was like being tried in court with a prosecution but no defense – none whatsoever.

Kyra continued, “ ‘Then, Jimmy kept trying to take the remote from me to change the channel while I was watching TV.  Once, when I went to the bathroom, I came back and he was watching some nude scene on HBO, then he tried to tell me that he was allowed to watch that stuff.  He’s got some nerve, huh?  Then, I painted my nails and put the bottle back in my purse on the floor, but as I was watching TV Jimmy snuck around the couch and stole the nail polish, then sat on the floor out of my sight as he tried to paint his own nails.  I caught him, but not before he made a mess on his toes.  Then, when I demanded it back, he said no and kept painting, but when he tried to get more paint his clumsy little fingers dropped the bottle and spilled nail polish all over the carpet.  It was completely his fault.’ “

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!!!” I screamed.  Dammit, why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut …

“Jimmy!!” Kyra and Ms. Johnson proclaimed in unison, as the latter’s hand returned to a more secure position over my mouth.  This time she let me breathe – but only barely – and she kept it there.  Before long, yelling was completely out of the question as I had to conserve what little air I could get just to keep myself from blacking out.

“Just keep your hand there,” Kyra suggested.

“I intend to,” Ms. Johnson replied in a mildly reprimanding voice.  I could sense her hovering over me with a disapproving frown.  “I won’t let him make another rude outburst again,” she added confidently.

I whimpered against my ex-boss’s hand on my mouth, but no one spoke up in my defense – not even Amy.  I could only barely see her face out of the corner of my eye – she seemed saddened, at least.  But perhaps she was only sad because I seemed to have disobeyed the rules yet again …

As Kyra read the rest of the paper uninterrupted, I couldn’t turn my head away from her growing scowl as she learned the rest of my supposed misdeeds.  Somewhere along the way, Ms. Johnson’s utterly unbreakable grip had shifted my head more towards Kyra, so that I could no longer see Amy at all.

But, in spite of everything unjust and cruel that was happening and would be happening soon, as my vision was limited to only Kyra, without hardly even realizing it I began to steal glances at Kyra’s dress, quick glances at first but gradually more and more bold as she kept her eyes down on the paper.  Even now, I was powerless to resist the awesome spectacle of Kyra’s body wrapped in that tantalizingly sexy dress.  What shame and guilt I felt at the weakness of my will, trembling in both fear and lust at my former daughter as she coldly, emotionlessly read my doom.

“ ‘I called you right after he spilled it and sent him to bed immediately.  I had to drag him to his room and he yelled and shouted obscenities the whole way.  Then, even though I expressly forbade him from leaving, when I checked on him a half hour later I found him sneaking around.  He claimed he was just going to the bathroom but I realized your bedroom door was open and he had a crayon in his hand.”

Despite everything, I tried to cry out one more time, but it resulted in nothing but soft, sad mumbling against Ms. Johnson’s firm hand.  All it did was make me dizzy as I quickly ran out of what little oxygen I had managed to store up.  I began to hyperventilate lightly, panicked and afraid, as my daughter read on.

“ ‘When I went to investigate, I found your clothes all splayed out on the floor – who knows what he was doing with them – and, worst of all, the little brat had written in crayon on your wall.  I managed to wipe most of it off afterwards, but in big red letters Jimmy had writt—‘ “

Kyra stopped speaking abruptly.  Her eyes widened in surprise then turned to the two women beside her.  “A large corner of this page is missing,” she told them, shaking her head in disbelief.  “There can be only one explanation for this – Jimmy tore it out to keep us from reading it.”

I tried to shake my head, more vehemently than ever, but couldn’t budge it.  Meanwhile, my daughter’s cold, razor-sharp glare fell to me, making me shudder in fear.  “Ohhh … you are in so, so much trouble mister.  Where the hell is the rest of this page!!?” she barked, clearly tired of playing games.

My fear level skyrocketed.  But this time, I was actually being told to speak up, and Ms. Johnson temporarily released her grip on my mouth accordingly.  “Mmphmm … I-I …” I paused, catching my breath, then added urgently, “The page got torn off when I fell from the pantry!  It was all just a mistake!!  The rest was still there when I set it back on the shelf!”

Kyra’s gaze only soured more.  “You expect me to believe that?  The final part that says what you wrote on my wall just happens to be missing?  No, you destroyed it, didn’t you?  To save yourself?  Come clean now, Jimmy …” she warned ominously, “or else your punishment will be even more severe than it already will be.”

Desperate, I shrieked, “It’s the truth, I swear!”  Ms. Johnson’s free arm began to slowly tighten around my chest threateningly, as Kyra simply continued to glare.  I pleaded, “Please, just let me look for the extra piece, I’m sure it’s still there somewhere!”

Kyra hotly replied, “I think I’ll just beat the tar out of you right now – you deserve that much regardless – and maybe if you’re telling the truth I won’t have to beat you any more after that.”

“Good plan,” my former boss agreed, as if it were the simplest decision in the world.  She immediately started to transfer my 45-pound body into Kyra’s waiting arms.

But then, I heard the voice of an angel.  “Wait!” Amy cried out.  As the other two ladies turned to look at her, for the first time in five minutes I was able to turn my head as well, and I looked upon Amy’s kind face, wrought with consternation and pain.  At first, I feared that her look was due to the pain of seeing just how low I had fallen, but as she spoke her voice filled my heart with gratitude.  “Let him find the rest of the page,” Amy said resolutely.  “And then I think James deserves to defend himself against these charges.  I refuse to believe any of them.”

Apparently, over the last minute or two, unseen to me, Amy had been having a change of heart.  I don’t know what had caused it – perhaps just remembering the person I ‘used’ to be, and remembering all the time we had had together in the past – but when I looked into her eyes now I could see she really was committed to sticking her neck out for me, despite how bad things might be looking for me right now.  She was finally giving me the benefit of the doubt, and that was all I needed.  As our eyes met, I’m not sure I had ever felt such a deep connection with anyone, such a bond of compassion and mutual respect as we shared in that moment.

The other two scoffed at this, fully convinced of my guilt.  But, thankfully, Amy’s words gave me the opportunity I needed.  “OK,” Kyra sighed, “I guess it can’t hurt.”  Ms. Johnson released me and, like a dog who is finally let go after much abuse, scampered at full speed towards the kitchen, around the counter, and up to the pantry.  The three women stood up and sauntered over as I frantically searched the ground.

Kyra and Ms. Johnson just stood, arms crossed, looking on with a frown.  But Amy, wonderful as she is, came over to help.  She turned out to be most helpful indeed, as she quickly spotted the scrap of paper sitting on the shelf below the one that had held the rest of the paper, this shelf being well over my range of sight – although, of course, well below Amy’s.  “Found it!” Amy announced happily.  “You see, he didn’t try to get rid of it, after all.”  Amy patted my head and looked down with a genuinely pleased look on her face, feeling vindicated in her trust towards her little friend.

“Hmph.  Well, we’ll just have to see what it says before letting Jimmy off the hook,” Kyra retorted.  As Kyra set the rest of the paper on the counter, Amy slid the scrap up to the corner to complete the sentence.  As the other two gasped, Kyra read aloud, “… in big red letters Jimmy had written, “EAT SHIT AND DIE, BITCH.”

The room fell silent.  None of them, not even Amy, knew how to respond to that, such was their shock at what I had allegedly written.  Finally, summoning as much restraint as she could find, Kyra said through clenched teeth, “Is that bad enough for you, Amy?”

My angel, my wonderful Amy, she … hesitated.  Doubt had begun to creep in to her mind.  “Well, he has been really mad at you lately …”  My spirits sank like a rock – but then soared anew as she reconsidered, “No.  I think she’s just making this up.  I can’t believe James would do these things.”

Oh … thank you, Amy … thank you …

Ms. Johnson scoffed again, replying, “What, you’re going to take HIS word over the babysitter’s!?  Kyra put her in charge of him for a reason.  And what would she possibly stand to gain from lying about this?”

Amy paused, puzzled by this latest line of reasoning.  But this was my chance to speak up.  Craning my neck as far as it would go to look up at these towering beauties, I recounted the events of the night before, the true story of Grace’s bitchy, power-mongering ways.  Partway through, Kyra had started to cut me off, but Amy raised a hand and implored her to let me speak.  With an appreciative nod, I told all of the important details – how she had eaten all my food, made me paint her toenails, and accosted me when I had to go to the bathroom.  I only bothered to refute the points in her letter, leaving out some minor details like how she had mockingly painted my own toes.  But I had done my best to convey her mean-spirited, bullying approach to babysitting, as well as the delight she derived from making me suffer.  “And that, ladies, is why she wanted to frame me; out of the cruelness of her heart, nothing more.”

Amy was convinced.  “See, I knew there was a good explanation for all of this!”  She pulled me to her, resting her hands on my shoulders protectively as she turned my body towards the other two.

They stood silently, mulling over my defense and pondering a verdict.  Kyra finally spoke up, “Well, I can’t say I believe Jimmy, considering all the naughty things he’s done in the past.  But he had been well-behaved the whole rest of the day.  Hmm.  I’ll have to have a talk with Grace and see what I can find out.”  Whew.  That was certainly better than I could have hoped for, and it was all thanks to Amy.  Perhaps Grace would even be persuaded to come clean, in which case I’d be right back in Kyra’s good graces – and in Amy’s, as well.

Kyra and Ms. Johnson took the paper and turned back towards the living room as Amy bent down almost to my level and turned me to face her.  “I totally believe you, Jimmy.  I’m just so glad you didn’t do those terrible things.  I hate to admit that, for a while, I actually started believing them, and gosh, the anger building up inside me was just –“  She had suddenly gotten flustered, but quickly calmed back down.  “Well, none of that matters anymore.  Can you forgive me for ever doubting you?”

I was beyond grateful for all she had done for me.  “Of course!” I exclaimed.  “In fact, I can’t thank you enough!”  We embraced warmly for quite some time, then eventually Amy stood back up and we walked over to the couch.

The other two had apparently been studying the paper, examining the words for any clues – probably for clues that would prove my guilt.  And the sly grin on their faces as we approached told me that they had found one they thought would catch him.  “Just one thing,” Ms. Johnson said, sounding innocent enough.  “Grace said she had wiped MOST of the crayon off the wall – not all of it.  I propose we look in Kyra’s room for any remnants of red crayon.  If we don’t find any, we’ll concede that Jimmy is innocent, but if we do find some, well, I think we all know what happens then.”

“Absolutely!” I declared, more than happy to prove my innocence once and for all.  The four of us climbed the stairs – well, actually, I was carried up by Amy, who apologized profusely but told me it was out of practicality, which I must say I agreed with.  Inside her room, the three of them pored over Kyra’s walls, deciding that I shouldn’t be allowed to look due to a conflict of interest.  I stood in the middle of the floor, proudly folding my arms across my chest, smugly awaiting a final announcement that there was nothing to be found.

Then I heard the impossible.  “Over here,” Amy gasped, shocked at what she had found.  We all rushed over to look and, sure enough, there on the wall behind the bathroom door was an inscription, about 3.5 feet off the ground, in big childish letters, faded from scrubbing, were still visible the words, “EAT SHIT AND DIE, BITCH.”

I fell back onto my ass in shock and horror.  NO!!!  Impossible!!!  “Th-That’s n-not my wr-writing!” I stammered.  Amy, too, had staggered back and sat on the bed, reading the words on the wall over and over in disbelief.  It was Kyra and Ms. Johnson’s turn to stand up confidently, hands folded across their chests, as they glared down at me with a mix of anger, condescension, and vindication.

Amy, still shell-shocked, muttered, “I believed you, I actually believed you …”

I knew what had happened – it was Grace!! – and I did everything in my power to convince Amy, at least, of the truth.  Snapping out of my daze, I rushed up to her, took her huge hands in mine, and said passionately, “You have to believe me, Amy, I didn’t do this!  Grace must have come in here after I was in bed and made it look like I had done it just like she said in the letter.”  A tear rolled down Amy’s cheek.  “Please, Amy!  You know me!  You know that I would never do any of these things!”  She was still shaking her head woefully.  I pressed on, “And if Grace was willing to write all those things, why wouldn’t she also be willing to set me up like this?”

Amy considered this new logic, and ever-so-slowly a faint smile of relief crossed her lips.  “That does make a little sense …” she conceded.  Kneeling in front of my little body, she looked me straight in the eye and told me, “Jimmy, tell me truthfully: did you write those mean words on the wall?”

“No, Amy.  I swear.”  I held my breath.

But then, a few moments later, she smiled.  “OK, James.  Despite all the evidence against you, I still believe you.”  She lifted her gaze to the other two.  “I still think he’s telling the truth.”

She must have been able to see the emotion on my face, because with another warm smile she whisked me off my feet in a vigorous hug, even making it hard for me to breathe in her enthusiasm.  But I was far too happy to care.

Kyra and Ms. Johnson looked down at us stoically, unenthused by our latest touchy-feely moment.  But, as we pulled back from our hug, I stared back at them defiantly, my case greatly bolstered by the support of Amy, one they treat as an equal, unlike me whom they offhandedly dismiss as a child.

But they were not so easily defeated.  Ms. Johnson whispered something into Kyra’s ear, causing her face to light up with the discovery of a new possibility to bring me down.  Ha!  I scoffed at their futile attempts to prove my guilt, knowing full well that Grace’s letter was pure fabrication.  Folding my own arms across my chest, I confidently awaited their feeble attempts to defame me.

But I was not expecting this.  “Jimmy,” Kyra asked sweetly, “Could you take off your socks, please?”

Taken by surprise, I couldn’t fathom what they were up to.  “Uh … why?”

“Well,” she replied in the same ironically sweet voice, “you said you painted Grace’s toenails and never said you painted your own.  So I’d like you to show us your toes, just to be sure.”

I saw no reason not to play along, seeing no harm in it and thinking it a very odd request.  I reached down and unrolled my socks down to the balls of my feet, then pulling them over my toes, and – Oh Shit.  I had just uncovered a streak of nail polish on my big toe – nail polish that I had totally forgotten about until that very moment.  Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I began to roll the socks back up as nonchalantly as I could.  “T-There’s nothing on them,” I said reflexively, although I immediately realized how foolish those words were – I needed to come clean and tell what really happened, not lie and make myself seem even more suspicious.  But it might have already been too late for that.

But as Kyra gave a stern warning and reached down to pull the socks off for me, I recoiled in a moment of panic and twisted my body to keep my feet away from her.  It quickly proved to be a futile attempt, as Kyra spun me back around with overwhelming force and yanked one of my legs straight out in the air with one hand, bringing her other hand over to forcibly remove my sock.

“No – don’t!!!” I cried, abandoning all reason in my state of panic.  My leg writhed pathetically under Kyra’s vice grip, but nonetheless in the blink of an eye my sock was removed, exposing my paint-splattered toes for all to see.

“Ha!  I knew it,” Ms. Johnson declared victoriously.  “You see, Amy, the little brat was playing us all along!  He thought he was so clever, trying to cover up everything he could – but he forgot just one little detail, and now his whole story has fallen apart, hasn’t it ...”

As Kyra continued to hold my foot up on display, my eyes moved to Amy, my one true friend and confidante.  But my hopes of keeping her friendship all but shattered as I beheld her look of stunned disbelief, so deep was the agony in her eyes as she discovered my supposed betrayal.

Was she really going to let this break our friendship?  Sure, it may seem bad, but it’s not like I did anything to her (or did anything wrong at all, for that matter).  Not yet grasping the severity of my situation, I nevertheless understood that I needed to convince Amy of the truth, at all costs.  “Amy, listen to me!” I said urgently.  “This isn’t what it looks like!  I—“

The air rushed out of my lungs as Kyra locked her arm around my chest and swung me bodily into the air.  “Don’t even try getting yourself out of this one, young man,” she said viciously.  “If I hear one more word out of you, you’ll regret it.”  She stood up straight, pressing my chest painfully against her shoulder in a confining embrace.

But I had to defend myself, I just HAD to.  “It’s all a lie!  I didn’t spill the nail polish, and I didn’t paint my toes!”

“Then WHY THE HELL IS THERE PAINT ON YOUR TOES!!!” Kyra roared.  The strength of her grip suddenly doubled, but in a flurry of desperation I flailed and heaved against her body, freeing up just enough space for my lungs to draw a breath and exclaim, “Grace did it!  Grace painted my toes!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ms. Johnson interjected disdainfully.  “You expect us to believe that a high school girl painted your toes like that!?”  Oh hell, she was right: my toe paint looked exactly like the work of a 6-year-old, and I knew I couldn’t possibly convince them that it was Grace, not me, who painted them so.

Now I understood – I really was fucked.  Maybe if I had told them earlier what really happened, they just might believe me, but I had to admit that this latest evidence, along with the writing on the wall, created an overwhelmingly strong argument that I had been lying through my teeth – and if I was lying about this, then there was no reason to believe that I wasn’t lying about everything else, too.

Kyra shifted my body to bring us face to face as her fiery eyes stared into mine.  A rage was building up within her, the likes of which I had never seen, and it would surely be unleashed upon me at any moment.  But, unbelievably, something else happened which was even more harrowing and frightful: Amy beat her to it and descended upon me with her own vengeful wrath.  “YOU … YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!” Amy screamed.  She grabbed my shoulder to spin me towards her – with Kyra helping to spin me around as well – and as her fingernails dug into my skin I beheld Amy’s fury in terror.

“Grace isn’t the liar, YOU ARE!!”  The loudness and proximity of her voice made my ear drums ring as she brought her face within inches of mine.

I tried to avert my gaze by turning my head aside, but Amy’s hand darted out and clenched my jaw firmly, wrenching my head forward again.  With my body completely immobilized in Kyra’s arms and my head clamped tightly in place by Amy, I could do nothing but wriggle feebly and proffer up one last, desperate plea.  “It wasn’t me, I –“

“LIAR!!!” Amy screeched, and suddenly my world was rocked by an enormous hand slamming against my cheek.  As I cried out in pain, I realized that this time it wasn’t Kyra who slapped me; it was dear Amy, my best and only friend in the world!  She continued, “Even now, you won’t admit what you did!  You’re the worst person I’ve ever met!!”  That last line stung me bad, even worse than her slap.  I hung there speechless as Amy went on, “To think, I actually let myself be convinced that you were still a good person and didn’t do any of those things last night!  I had truly believed, James, that you had changed after your punishment on Monday, that you were sincere when you told me you were sorry for all the awful things you did to me.  But it was all a lie!  You don’t give a crap about me, or anyone else; you only care about yourself, you selfish son of a bitch!”

I could hardly wrap my mind around these words coming from the sweetest, kindest person I ever met, my one true friend.  My earlier question, why she was so furious, had been answered.  It was about much more than just me wronging someone else; she saw my (supposed) continual childlike misbehavior and found that even my deepest, sincerest apology on Monday was as much a lie as the denial I had given tonight.  I felt my entire life unraveling before my eyes …

I opened my mouth to speak, but she was done listening to my side of the story.  “Give him to me,” Amy ordered, and Kyra willingly held my body out to her.  It all happened so fast: Amy roughly snatching me up, storming over to the side of the bed, ripping off my pants and underwear, and laying me across her lap, face down.  Before I even knew what had happened, I felt an earth-shattering jolt of pain on my ass.  Amy was spanking me.

Amy surely wasn’t as strong as Kyra, but whether due to my diminished size, the vehemence of Amy’s rage against me, or the incomprehensible anguish of being spanked by my best friend, I would forever remember this spanking as being the worst of my life, far beyond anything even Kyra had been able to dole out.  I resisted at first, exclaiming, “I didn’t do it!  Please, Amy!!!” but this only inspired even harder blows from Amy until I gave up all attempts at communication, my mind becoming flooded with the thought of pain and nothing more.  I struggled uselessly against Amy’s steel grip but soon surrendered even that last little piece of resistance as the blows continued to rain down again and again and again.  I had absolutely no sense of how long it lasted, being completely beaten down both physically and mentally by the very person I loved most in this world.

Amy, too, felt anguish, although of a much different sort.  Her tears nearly matched my own in number, falling because of the egregious betrayal of the dear friend she had once thought trustworthy and kind.  Her wrath was made infinitely worse by the fact that she had stuck her neck out for me so much and had trusted me purely on faith and friendship – and now from her perspective she felt that her confidence had been utterly betrayed.  And this time, I sensed that there was no going back – our friendship was through.

Amy’s blows only ceased once her strength was utterly spent.  As if to cast off my evil ways, she unceremoniously dumped my body in a motionless heap at her feet as she wailed in despair at what I had forced her to do.

Having almost no control over my senses, I hardly noticed being dumped to the floor, then some minutes – or hours? – later being dragged by the arm and left sprawled out on my bedroom floor.  I lay just so, silently, motionlessly, for many restless hours, my mind turning time and again to the events that had just unfolded, and to speculation as to what might lay in store for me in the days to come.

I had been brought that night to an entirely new threshold of pain and anguish.  However, my resistance had not merely been defeated for the time being; no, Amy’s blows had seemed to thoroughly beat down and eradicate every last trace of dignity and self-respect that I had still possessed.  What in this world had I had to look forward to, other than my next chance to look again into Amy’s loving, compassionate eyes and find some measure of comfort in this cruel world?  But now that hope had been utterly dashed; my last chance at being treated as a fellow human being, with my own feelings and desires and unalienable rights, was suddenly torn away, leaving me free-falling into a deepening abyss.  Sure, we would no doubt see each other now and then from this point forward, but never again with the same love and compassion.  On Monday, she had wished to see a permanent change in my behavior, and now, ironically, it seemed that she may have gotten her wish after all, though in a much different sense.  She now truly believed that I no longer held any regard whatsoever for the feelings of others, especially hers, and it had finally left her no hope of reconciliation with me as a friend and equal.  Now, in her mind, I could no longer be trusted to follow the social and moral code of an adult; I was like a child now in her eyes, except even worse, since unlike a child I supposedly knew better than to act the way I did.  And I could only imagine that I would continue to be treated worse than one as well.