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Tuesday: 3’0”
When I awoke the next morning, I thought back on the events of the previous night as if they had been a dream. A dream that was hazy to my memory, but from which I still remembered having strong feelings towards Kyra. These feelings seemed foreign to me now, and I shook my head as I tried to remember what had happened to make me feel that way for her, the very person who continued to belittle me and dominate me like I was a child. In fact, the entire day had proceeded far differently than the days before it, as I had apparently forgotten my emotionless rejection of the world under the strong influence of Amy – no, she was Ms. Adams to me now – and Kyra.
I was taken to Kyra’s work again and placed within the confines of my wooden cage, only being allowed out briefly for the bathroom and for lunch, not allowed to make any sound in the presence of the two women who were so ‘graciously’ allowing me to share their office space. This silent imprisonment was taking its toll on my psyche, being treated almost the entire day as if I didn’t even exist.
Kyra had practice at 3:00 again, and to my surprise as she got up to leave I felt a tiny twinge of sadness, a part of me not wanting to be separated from her. Of course, even if I felt inclined to share my feelings I knew I wouldn’t be permitted to.
Ms. Adams, though, was allowed to speak all she wanted. “Hey, we should hang out tonight,” she told Kyra.
“Sure, I’m not doing anything. Maybe I can have you and Becky over and have a cookout or something.”
“Sounds great! I’ll ask her and get back with you.”
“OK, see ya later,” Kyra said with a wave. “And thanks for looking after Jimmy while I’m gone.” Then Kyra waved at me, and I sheepishly raised my hand in a semi-wave as she departed for basketball practice.
Ms. Adams got up from her desk and left me alone, no doubt to ask Ms. Johnson about their new plan. She returned a few minutes later, not so much as mentioning what they had agreed upon. I wouldn’t even be granted that small courtesy.
Once 5:00 rolled around, Ms. Adams got her things together as I stood at the edge of my playpen, watching her expectantly like a dog about to be let out for a walk. Once she was ready to go, almost as an afterthought she stepped towards me, bent down, and plucked me up with one arm, carrying me towards her boss’s office.
“Want to drive there together?” she asked Ms. Johnson, still not seeing any reason to bother speaking to the tiny person she held at her side. It hurt me possibly even more than if she had addressed me with anger – because at least then she would be acknowledging me as a human being.
“Actually, I have to stop by my sister’s house first,” Ms. Adams replied.
“Oh, that’s right,” Ms. Adams responded, as if this had all been planned already. I didn’t bother asking either of them to fill me in since I would probably just be berated or ignored. But soon enough I discovered that Ms. Adams was taking me to my house.
Kyra, whose practice had gotten out at 4:30, was there to meet us. Still holding me at her side, Ms. Adams reached out and hugged her best friend with her free hand. Kyra asked, “Was he good?”
“Yes, no problems,” Ms. Adams replied simply as she began shifting my weight to hand me to Kyra.
“Actually, would you mind holding on to him for now? I’d like to get the burgers ready.”
“Sure, Kyra.” I was carried over to the couch as Kyra went to the kitchen. For the first time all week, I had some one-on-one time with my former best friend, now that she wasn’t completely occupied with her work. As she sat down on the couch with me firmly secured in her lap, she asked, “So, little fella, how was your day?”
“Huh?” I asked, both surprised that she was talking to me and surprised at the incredible obviousness of the answer. I fought back the urge to yell, ‘How the hell do you think it was, you bitch!?’ but I knew I had to try to contain my anger, in hopes that she would at least treat me with some decency and respect, even though I was her inferior. After all, she was probably just trying to be polite.
“There was nothing to do,” I mumbled, looking down at my knees.
“Oh, that’s not true. Ms. Johnson brought you plenty of fun things to do,” Ms. Adams reprimanded.
Again, I held back the urge to tell her off for taking part in making me play with toddler’s toys when she knew I could handle more. “It’s so boring, though,” I whined petulantly. I just couldn’t help myself – my life absolutely sucked.
“You’ll get over it,” Ms. Adams said, dismissing my objections with the wave of a hand. And then she decided our little conversation was over as she stood up, still carrying me off to the side out of her way, and walked to the kitchen counter, striking up a lively conversation with Kyra as I hung helplessly in her arms.
Another 15 minutes passed until Ms. Johnson came in through the front door. “Hello!” she called out. As my carrier turned towards the door, my former boss came into view, followed by a familiar little girl: Susie.
Ms. Adams let me down and I trudged awkwardly towards the newcomers. But once Susie saw me, she rushed up and threw her arms around me, unintentionally squeezing the air out of my lungs. Holy shit, she was huge. I thought back to when I first met her, a week ago today, and she was just barely taller than me, probably 4’2” or 4’3”. And now, at a measly height of 3’0”, the top of my head didn’t even come close to shoulder high on her, and her waist was about level with my chest. I began to see stars by the time she released me, and when she did I staggered back a couple steps, my mind trying to cope with the radical change in my height compared with my best –my only—friend.
Due to her glee at seeing me, she only now noticed my diminished proportions. “You’re little, Jimmy!” she exclaimed curiously. “Why are you so little?”
The lump in my throat prevented me from responding. Kyra chimed in behind me, “Well, Susie, Jimmy just gets smaller over time and there’s nothing we can do about it.” I cringed, suddenly remembering the antidote that was STILL waiting for me at the doctor’s office. ‘Nothing we can do about it,’ my ass.
“Oh, OK,” Susie replied, completely accepting the explanation of Kyra as she was, after all, the authority figure compared to me. But Susie, suddenly with a perplexed look, added, “Does this mean he got younger, too?”
I insistently shook my head no, but although Susie saw my reaction she deferred her judgment to the ‘adult’ behind me as she spoke up, “Why, yes, Susie, I suppose you can look at it that way. He’s littler than you, and less mature than you now too.” I cursed her silently for brainwashing Susie like this, no doubt deliberately intended to undermine our friendship. Hell, I had to admit it, Susie’s friendship meant more and more to me everyday thanks to my continual belittlement at the hands of the axis of evil behind me, and especially due to Ms. Adams’s recent defection to their ranks. Susie was literally all I had left, even as superficial as that friendship may be.
To my dismay, the brainwashing was working. Susie now wore a disappointed expression and replied, “So I can’t play with him anymore?” As I looked up I saw tears welling in her eyes.
“Why, sure you can sweetie – it’ll just be a little different between you two now.”
Susie gave a loud sigh. “I guess so,” she answered uncertainly. I would have said something in my defense at this point, but what were my words worth, anyway? In Susie’s mind, the women around her were all adults and I was just a little child – she would never believe my words over theirs, not in a million years.
“Well,” Kyra concluded. “Shall we head to the backyard? I’ve got the grill ready to go.” The three women headed through the kitchen and out the back door, easily outpacing us two little ones. Taking my hand into her now oversized one, Susie pulled me along after them. Thanks to my recent shrinking, Susie definitely felt a LOT stronger to me than she had when I first met her – I was completely forced to follow along with her.
And being pulled along like this, I could really start to understand why Susie had qualms about viewing me as an equal anymore. I mean, the girl really was huge compared to me now – I could only imagine how small I looked to her. It was a miracle she was even willing to play with me anymore at all.
The three adults chatted around the grill, not letting us kids anywhere near the hot flames. Instead, Susie told me, “Let’s play tag. You’re it!” and suddenly she was running away from me through our backyard. It was a fairly small enclosure as far as back yards go, but it never felt nearly so huge as it did now. I hesitated at first, but my friend’s hopeful glance back at me convinced me to play along for a bit. After all, maybe it could take my mind off things.
I took off after her, and a moment later she slipped and fell after almost reaching the back fence, allowing me to catch up with her long strides and tag her, proclaiming, “You’re it!”
I don’t know why I was suddenly so into this game – maybe because I managed to catch my larger opponent so easily, or maybe I was just happy to see her happy, and also happy to play with someone who wouldn’t judge me back.
In any case, I was very into it now. “No fair!” she exclaimed, and we both let out shrill giggles of happiness in our sudden bout of energy, me throwing my initial reservations to the wind.
But, after I managed to get a nice head-start as she picked herself up off the ground, once she started bounding after me I looked back in dismay at how easily she was outpacing me. I felt like I was running in slow-motion as I frantically darted around a tree and behind a bush to escape her.
Her huge form was on me in no time, quickly catching up to me and planting what to her must have seemed a light tap on the back, but which during my frantic running was more than enough to knock me off balance and eat a face-full of dirt.
I slowly picked myself up, spitting out bits of disgusting soil and wiping my face clean. A large dirt stain ran the length of my shirt, but hopefully the grown-ups wouldn’t be mad at me for it. Meanwhile, though, Susie had made it clear across the yard and was hiding playfully behind a tree trunk. “Come and catch me, if you can!” she taunted.
I came towards her, jogging slowly at first but quickly picking up steam as I closed in at an all-out sprint. But she had plenty of time to react, and by the time I reached the trunk she was rounding another corner of the yard. I scurried after her as fast as I could, but she was quickly pulling even farther away from me. She waited at the far corner of the yard as I dashed after her, already growing winded from my breakneck pace, but again she easily escaped me and ran to the other end of the yard in no time.
We carried on like this for a few more laps around the yard until I could go no further and dropped my hands to my knees, panting in exhaustion. “C’mon, Jimmy!” Susie called, waiting impatiently behind a shrub. When she saw I wasn’t coming after her, she ventured out cautiously, expecting a trap. Of course, none was sprung, and eventually she approached and said, “You’re it,” as if I needed a reminder.
“C – Can we pl-play something else,” I managed through heavy breaths.
“I want to play this!” she whined.
“I’m s-sorry, Susie, b-but I c-can’t.”
Susie let out a frustrated grunt and told me, “You’re no fun anymore!” stomping off to see if the adults would be more interesting than lame little me.
Feeling emasculated about not even being able to keep up with a little kid anymore, I slowly trudged over to them and was greeted by Kyra’s stern voice telling me, “Young man, are you refusing to play with Susie?”
“No! I just … wanted to play something else.” I didn’t want to admit to them that I couldn’t even compete physically with this 7-year-old girl.
“Well, you need to learn to get along with other kids, even if they are older than you. If Susie wants to play tag, you are going to play tag. Got it?”
I cringed at this statement. So far had I fallen in these women’s eyes that I was now to essentially follow orders from Susie now, too?
Thankfully, I was saved just in the nick of time. “Hmph. Well, actually, the burgers are done. Let’s sit and eat first, and then you two can get back to playing.” She would hear no complaints from me on that point. I was hungry enough that I didn’t even mind sitting on Kyra’s lap as she broke up my food into little pieces and alternately ate her own massive bites of burger then hand-fed me my little bits of meat and bread, telling me that she was concerned I would choke on anything bigger.
And no one so much as commented or gave us a funny look as she hand-fed me. Even Amy seemed to think nothing of it at all. I really was viewed as a child now by everyone there.
The three ladies chatted away happily as Susie and I mostly sat quietly, although Susie played with her food and would occasionally make a face at me when no one else was looking. Once dinner was over, though, I prepared myself for another humiliating round of tag.
“Would you like to play tag with Jimmy now?” Ms. Johnson asked Susie.
“I don’t wanna,” she replied, sounding hurt from my apparent unwillingness to play with her – or, worse, thinking that I was too boring to play with now. Though it pained me to see her like this, I didn’t mind her decision – the running earlier had worn me out already.
“OK then,” Ms. Johnson sighed. But, as she was about to turn away, she stopped and said, “Wait, I think I know how to get them to play again. I’ll be right back.” She headed for her car and left me confused and apprehensive. My life had been a slew of endless humiliation and unhappiness these last few weeks, so at this point I automatically assumed the worst, and usually I was right.
This turned out to be no exception – in fact, this one was perhaps a new low, a new 10th circle of hell that neither I nor Dante knew existed. It started out innocently enough, with the bringing of a box of small articles of clothing from her car. As Ms. Johnson set the box on the ground in front of us, I saw a variety of pink frilly dresses and other very tacky outfits. Was this real clothing? It looked so … cheap and poorly fitted, and was made of some inexpensive polyester material. But it was much too small for Susie – actually, come to think of it, it would probably fit me pretty well …
“Where’s Cindy?” Susie asked, creating much confusion among me, Ms. Adams, and Kyra. Did these clothes belong to a friend of hers?
“Who’s Cindy?” Ms. Adams inquired. “And what are all these clothes, Becky?”
“Cindy,” Ms. Johnson explained, “is Susie’s My Size Barbie that her mom got her a couple years ago, and these are her clothes.”
More confusion. “My Size Barbie?” Kyra asked.
“It’s a life-size Barbie doll that little girls can play with and dress up and comb their hair and stuff like that. It’s only 3 feet tall so of course it’s not exactly ‘My Size’ for Susie anymore, but she still loves playing with it.”
How tall did she say? I had a baaad feeling about this …
“Well then, where is Cindy?” Ms. Adams asked, something I was dying to know myself.
“Yeah, I can’t play with Cindy’s clothes without Cindy!” Susie interjected.
A wide, devilish grin spread on Ms. Johnson’s lips, and my heart went cold as her eyes briefly met mine before turning back to Susie. “Well, Susie,” she began slowly, the rest of us listening with rapt attention, “how would you like a real-life Cindy to play with? One that can move, and talk, and braid your hair, and play whatever games you want?”
The obviousness of what she was suggesting was already hitting me like a ton of bricks … but it still seemed impossible – TOO low, TOO degrading to really be happening …
Susie, meanwhile, furrowed her brow as she considered this new possibility and what it would be like, although her young mind had not yet guessed how it could happen. But Kyra and Ms. Adams had picked up on Ms. Johnson’s meaning by now, and both sported surprised, delighted grins on their faces.
I became dizzy and my legs suddenly felt weak; my world began to spin as I lost control of my senses, my mind not knowing how to, or not wanting to, process what Ms. Johnson was saying. Ms. Johnson took two steps towards me, put her hands on my shoulders, turned my wobbly body towards Susie, and told her, “This is your new Cindy.” My legs gave out and my world went black even before my body hit the grass.
******
I regained consciousness a few minutes later, though it took some time to find my bearings. I knew I was inside now and being held up on my feet by two massive hands around my torso. From the feel of the hands on my sides, I could tell my shirt had been removed.
Susie loomed in front of me holding a pink corset-like piece of polyester clothing. Still woozy, I watched as it was raised above me and, as another pair of enormous hands held my arms up, Susie brought the corset down over my arms, head, and finally my torso, tugging at the edges until it was correctly aligned on my frail body.
As my arms were released, I looked down in horror at the tight-fitting corset covering my chest and stomach, and looking down farther I discovered a frilly, poofy pink skirt made of a fine mesh material resting around my waist and extending down to my knees. They must have gotten a head start while I was unconscious.
“Yay! You look so pretty, Cindy!” Susie told me excitedly.
I was loath to respond, so Ms. Johnson warned me sternly, “The new Cindy is supposed to talk back when Susie tells her something.”
“That’s right,” Kyra confirmed threateningly.
Though my voice trembled mightily from the depths of humiliation I was now facing, I managed to squeak out, “Thank you, Susie,” in reply, hating myself for submitting to this depraved game but knowing with certainty that my punishment would be most severe if I didn’t play along.
“This is so much fun!” Susie shrieked in delight.
“Yeah, brilliant idea, Becky,” Ms. Adams complimented. “I admit I feel a little bad for him, but … well, they didn’t seem to be playing together well earlier, so this should certainly help. So it’s really not that bad for him, is it?”
“No, no,” Kyra replied casually, clearly believing that she could speak on my behalf here. “I mean, kids play make-believe all the time, so how is this any different?”
Ms. Adams thought about this for a second then shrugged and nodded in agreement. “Good point! Well, this should be fun. Oh – don’t forget the shoes, Susie.”
“Oh yeah!” Susie replied, suddenly pulling out a pair of glittery slippers and telling me, “OK, Cindy, lift your leg!” I died a little inside as I raised my left, then my right leg to allow myself to be shod with these Cinderella-like slippers. The fact that everything, from my slippers to my corset, fit me perfectly didn’t exactly improve my mood, either.
“Make sure to tie her corset tight, Susie,” Kyra suggested. Great, it seemed even the damned Barbie corset had realistic cords in the back to provide the proper level of asphyxiation to the wearer. I began to fear for my safety as Susie’s large form walked behind me and picked up the ends of the string, knowing that she was much stronger than me now and might not understand just how easily she could hurt me.
I received a shock as my stomach and ribs being compressed in a way I had never experienced before. Susie pulled tightly, far too tightly in my opinion, and the already tight-fitting corset became substantially tighter, even constricting my breathing to a small degree as Susie held it taut. Apparently, though I was short enough for the outfit, I wasn’t nearly as skinny as the doll it was designed for.
“How’s that?” she asked.
“Hmm, let’s see,” Ms. Johnson replied, getting down on her knees and prodding my torso with her hands to inspect the fit. “No, see Susie, it’s not shaping his midsection enough; it should be nice and curved in the middle and flare out around her hips. Here, let me show you.” Before I knew what was happening, every last bit of air was suddenly forced out of my lungs as a crushing pressure enveloped my entire midsection, thanks to the ‘proper’ tightening by Ms. Johnson.
Like she said, the corset had stretched my back straight and squeezed down on my midsection, creating a noticeable curve despite my manly (or rather, boyish) physique. As I struggled to breathe, I wondered if this is how all women must feel when they wear a corset, or if Ms. Johnson was being especially strict with my appearance. It felt like shit.
Just for good measure, she gave an additional tug before tying it off, compressing my stomach and chest even more and leaving even less room in my lungs. As I worked hard to provide myself with short, forced breaths, I looked up despairingly at the three women and one girl towering gleefully over me, not concerned in the least with my pain and suffering.
Susie pulled out a small hand mirror from the box and held it in front of me, saying “You look marvelous darling, don’t you agree?” trying to sound grown-up and sophisticated.
“Yesss,” I wheezed quietly between short gasps.
“Speak up, Cindy,” Kyra demanded sternly.
I strained my lungs to take a less-small breath and exhaled, “Yes, Susie!”
“You need some makeup now,” Susie told me, and I could do nothing but stand there like –well, like a doll, as Susie fetched a small make-up kit intended for use on the My Size Barbie and began powdering my cheeks clumsily, effectively smearing my entire face in whitish powder. The three women took a seat on the couch to watch the show as Susie applied lipstick to me next, and I could tell it was going all over the place. I actually felt a little scared that I would get an eye poked out as she dabbed on some mascara to my eyelashes, but as I held my lids tightly closed I managed to avoid anything more than a few uncomfortable pokes on my eyeballs.
The ladies were all-too-eager to help Susie do my hair up in cute little pigtails on either side of my head, tied up with small pink bows from the box. This whole episode gave me flashbacks to that odious day a few weeks ago when Kyra decked me out in her dress and paraded me around town, but somehow the fact that it was a 7-year-old girl doing it to me this time seemed doubly humiliating. I was literally now demoted from playmate to plaything for Susie, expected to do whatever she pleased and be the best toy she ever had.
I refused to look in the mirror when it was offered to me again, but that didn’t stop all three women from pulling out their phones and taking pictures, preserving this memory for all time. I felt like some lowly zoo animal, standing there while people leer all around me and take my picture, leaving me without a moment of peace and solace.
“I bet Cindy would be happy to do your hair for you in return, Susie!” Kyra suggested.
“Yay!” Susie’s eyes lit up at the prospect. Handing me a brush, she told me, “Cindy, please do my hair.” Though she said it nicely enough, it was clear that she now saw me as no more than a toy and thought it was only natural that I would obey her every wish without question, like any good toy would.
Well, actually, that was probably true; I had no choice but to do exactly that. “How would you like it done?” I asked obediently but reluctantly.
“Do it like yours!” she replied enthusiastically.
“Yes, Susie,” I replied, becoming increasingly dizzy from the sustained lack of blood circulation in my body. It was hard work, reaching so far up to brush and straighten her hair, then attempt to braid it into pigtails – something I had absolutely zero experience with – and all the while trying to avoid blacking out again from the lack of oxygen.
I handed Susie the mirror, and with mild disgust she told me, “You didn’t do it right! Do it over.”
Despite my sadness, I managed to reply, “I’m sorry,” and redo the whole operation. To my infinite relief, Susie accepted my work this time, saying, “Good job, Cindy. Now let’s play a game.” As she pulled me to the far end of the living room floor, I looked back to see the three ladies sitting on the couch, watching us intently with wide smiles, chatting amongst themselves happily and greatly enjoying the show. I could imagine Kyra and Ms. Johnson being fine with what was being done to me, but I had still at this point expected at least a little stronger sign of guilt from Ms. Adams, maybe just a glimpse of her former caring, compassionate self. But the old Amy was nowhere to be found.
Susie had a ‘terrific’ idea for us: “OK, Cindy, we should put on a play for them; doesn’t that sound fun?” I nodded reluctantly. “So, you’ll be the beautiful princess Cinderella, and you dance with Prince Charming until the clock strikes midnight.”
I couldn’t believe I was hearing this, and going along with it no less. “A-Are you Prince Charming?” I asked submissively.
“Of course not, silly! You pretend you’re dancing with him.” I stood dumbly for a few moments, not sure how to react to this, until she exclaimed insistently, “Dance!!” In bitter humiliation, I slowly raised my arms, awkwardly holding them out as I imagined being held by Prince Charming on the dance floor. I looked at Susie uncertainly, and she nodded for me to continue. Still hindered by the iron-maiden-like death grip of the corset, I uncertainly began turning about, holding my arms out to my imaginary dance partner as I spun in circles and moved my feet a bit. After simply letting me ‘practice’ for a solid three minutes like this, Susie continued, “Now it’s midnight, and you run away and drop a slipper on the steps.” Defeated, I carried out her wish half-heartedly, picking a direction and walking that way. “You have to tell Prince Charming you’re leaving!”
Damn it. “I—I have to go,” I said unconvincingly.
“Do it better,” Susie complained.
Steeling myself against my loathsome task, I took as deep a breath as I could manage and said, “I’m sorry, Prince Charming, but I have to leave now.”
Thinking I was done with the scene, I stood idly for a few moments. “Well, keep going!” Susie insisted, getting impatient with my lack of effort.
Knowing that making Susie upset would only come back to bite me, I put my game face on and got into the role a bit more, running in place and letting a slipper fall off, repeating, “I have to go, Prince, I’m sorry.” God, what had become of me, acting out the part of Cinderella under the supervision of a little girl.
Apparently, though, Susie still wasn’t satisfied. “You’re not doing it good enough!” she exclaimed unhelpfully.
I was about to ask her for clarification when the grown-ups interrupted us. “Susie, honey, we have to go soon.” Finally, some good news. “Can you show us your play now?”
“It’s not ready!” Susie complained.
“I’m sure it’s wonderful, dear. You’ll just have to show us what you’ve got.”
Susie sighed in frustration but assented. Bringing her doll to the center of the living room, she instructed me, “You need to try harder, Cindy! I want Aunt Becky to be impressed.”
She stepped away to give me room for my first and only stage performance of my life. Did I mention I had stage fright? And, let’s be honest, if I was embarrassed to go on stage in the past, I would never in a million years have accepted the circumstances of this new solo performance, except for the implicit threat of punishment from one of these ladies if my performance wasn’t up to their expectations.
I started off slowly and timidly at first, but this quickly brought angry whispers from my ‘director’ to ‘do it better.’ After a few dirty looks and stern commands from my adult audience as well, I got the message and began getting into my act, twirling faster and in wider arcs as I let my imaginary dance partner carry me around the ballroom floor. I stumbled constantly and even fell a few times, mostly from the extreme rigidity and discomfort of the corset which hindered my movements and made me constantly very short of breath. But, by the end of my 3-minute dance, I had let myself go as much as my corset would allow, becoming caught up in the moment and almost forgetting the horrible reality of what I was being forced to do, parading about like a circus clown for others’ amusement.
“Ding!” Susie called out, letting me know the clock was about to strike twelve. Dizzy from all the spinning, I stumbled forward and delivered my spoken lines as loudly as possible (that is to say, not very). I was pathetic, acting like a bumbling fool, willingly and obediently delivering every last bit of acting skills and effort that I could muster from fear of the repercussions of giving anything less.
At least, my efforts paid off. “Bravo!” the audience cheered, loving my performance the way a parent loves their kindergartener’s play, no matter how poorly organized or executed it is. Even Susie, thankfully, seemed happy with it, and especially with the adults’ reactions. As I came back to reality after my intense performance, though, the bitter truth of what I had just done began to sink in. Before this evening, Susie was the one person – hell, the only person – in the world I actually felt some inclination to spend time with, but this latest ‘betrayal’, though perhaps not as severe as the loss of my long-time, true best friend, Amy, was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the end of my very last hope for any sort of equal treatment and respect in life. I was lost, with no one to turn to, no one to confide in, and now no one to even have a carefree day of fun with. I was more alone than ever.
The only even remotely positive take-away from this experience, though, was that I was now on the ladies’ good side, at least for now – and Kyra especially had seemed to enjoy my performance, and made sure to give me more than a few approving smiles and a look of appreciation of my efforts that almost seemed totally genuine, like she was actually proud of me for doing this somehow. It was weird, but this approval from Kyra, being all I had to cling on to now, actually felt pretty good, in some small way. At the end of the performance, I even returned her the slightest, most sheepish smile in response, despite my overall unhappiness.
Ms. Johnson had Susie gather her things to get ready to leave. “Can I take Cindy with me?” Susie pleaded. Ms. Johnson looked to Kyra questioningly, leaving the decision up to her. This thought hadn’t crossed my mind; I was fully expecting to be freed from my new ‘owner’ for the evening, but the prospect of being under her control for the whole rest of the night and perhaps on to tomorrow made me shudder.
Kyra considered this for a minute, and then her trunk-sized legs filled my vision as she stepped in front of me and whisked me up into her arms. Regarding me briefly, she did the last thing in the world I would have expected: she let me choose for myself. “Well, ‘Cindy,’ what’ll it be? Would you like to go home with Susie?”
Surprised at her apparent generosity – was it a trick?? – I turned my head from Kyra over to Susie and Ms. Johnson then back to Kyra. I couldn’t decide whether I hated the idea of spending time with Susie now as much as spending time with Ms. Adams; they both just seemed so awful. But as I wrapped my arms around the familiar form of Kyra’s chest and shoulders, pressing against her warm, soft flesh as she caressed me tenderly, I felt surprisingly at home; she seemed to grant me a sense of comfort and satisfaction in a way that no one else could. I suddenly, inexplicably did not want to be anywhere but here in her arms. “Can I stay here with you, Mommy?” I pleaded softly.
Mommy’s face lit up in maternal delight. “Yes, sweetie, you can stay with me.” Looking down at Susie, she told her, “I’m sorry, Jimmy has had enough play time for tonight.”
“Oh, OK,” Susie replied, dejected. I somehow didn’t feel any sympathy for her, though. I didn’t pay much attention as Susie and Ms. Johnson headed out, and then Ms. Adams soon followed suit. I was feeling too happy to focus on anything other than the wonderful woman holding me.
Once we were alone, Kyra turned her loving eyes to me and asked, “Well, Jimmy, what shall we do now?”
“Anything,” I replied, just happy to be with her. I was feeling so emotionally vulnerable right now, but I just went along with it.
Mommy chuckled as she carried me over to the recliner and set me down. As she pulled away, I held out my arms to her, not wanting to let go. Seeing my reaction, she smiled and replied, “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll be right back.”
I waited impatiently as she went to her room, then she finally came back down wearing her nightwear: that sheer white tank top (with no bra underneath) and skimpy blue cotton shorts. I gulped at the sight of her and eagerly awaited her approach. I was sure she sensed my eagerness, though, as she flashed a mischievous smile and sauntered in the opposite direction, slowly pulling out a glass and filling it with water in the kitchen to tease me.
She stepped over to the side of the counter and languorously sipped her water, making sure to give me a full view of her incredible figure. Her eyes smirked at me knowingly as she observed my increasing impatience. At long last, she set the glass down and walked towards me, her hips swaying and her eyes staring at me intently. I expected her to lift me up when she got to the recliner, but instead she turned around and lowered her enormous but shapely ass down towards me.
Christ, I was about to be squashed like a bug! I frantically rolled to the edge of the cushion to give her just enough room to sit next to me. Seeing my panicked expression, she laughed playfully and said, “Haha, look out below!” Her antics were quickly forgiven, though, as I climbed up the couch and nestled my tiny body between her arm and chest, laying my own arm across her midsection just under her breasts and laying my head on her shoulder. “Mmm,” she hummed pleasantly as her arm draped over almost the entire length of my body, pressing me into her tenderly.
I was in heaven as Mommy picked up the remote and turned the TV to TBS, watching some show I couldn’t care less about in my present situation. I squeezed her as tightly as I could, which probably felt like nothing to her, but I couldn’t seem to get enough of her. After several minutes of nestling happily against her with my eyes closed, I opened them and my eyes settled on her mind-bogglingly huge breasts lying before me. My breathing started to quicken as I ever-so-slowly brought my hand up from her midsection to the lowermost edge of her rack, brushing my fingers against her softly, wondering if I was even allowed to be doing this …
I saw her dark nipples poking up through the thin fabric of her shirt as she gave out a soft moan. Encouraged, I boldly brought my hand up another inch or two to rest half my hand on her immense, soft bosom and give a light squeeze. Her lips parted with a soft pant, reacting to my touch. I began to rut my hips slowly into her side, my penis hard as a rock. Evidently, I had her full attention as she flicked off the TV and turned her eyes to me lustfully. Her hand abruptly shot up and seized my hand, pulling it higher up and mashing it into her melons, which were many times larger than my tiny hand. My fingers found her palm-sized nipple, fully erect, and I began to rub fervently into her, eliciting a louder gasp from Mommy’s lips.
“Yessss,” she breathed as she adjusted her arm which was still wrapped around me and brought her hand down to her own crotch, her fingers sliding underneath her white panties. “You’re a good little boy, aren’t you Jimmy?” she cooed sultrily, turned on by this whole situation.
“Yes, Mommy!” I replied urgently, going along with her 100% now. I felt her arm moving rhythmically against my body as her fingers began to work their magic down below.
“Mmhmm. And I’m a good mommy, right?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed honestly. “You’re the best mommy in the whole world!” By now my hips were bucking feverishly against her side as I lost myself in passion.
Kyra kneaded my hand passionately into the soft yet firm flesh of her breasts. Both of us nearing climax, she asked lustily, “Who do you belong to, Jimmy?”
“You, Mommy! I belong to you!” This sent both of us over the edge simultaneously, writhing our bodies in ecstasy as we erupted in each other’s embrace. A flood of emotions washed over me as I snuggled myself into her warm and wonderful body, falling asleep in a few short minutes, happier than I had been in a long, long time.