Delilah Tomlinson slowed her car down and pulled over a few spaces ahead of the boy walking along the tree lined suburban streets. He was dribbling a basketball as he walked back from his friend’s house a few blocks over. She knew he had about six more blocks to go to get home. She’d watched him walk this route three times this week so far. He must play basketball at the friend’s and then leave after lunch. Or maybe it was just before lunch. Between one and one thirty, at any rate. She had decided this morning that today was the day he needed a lift.

She rolled down the passenger-side window as he neared. “Tommy?” she called out to him, “Tommy Morris?”

He stopped and turned toward the open window. He held the basketball against his hip, and leaned down cautiously. “Yeah?”

Tommy was a thin and wiry muscled youth, with the look of speed as opposed to strength. His reddish blond hair was cut into a short shaggy style that hung down covering his forehead and he had a smattering of freckles that crossed his nose and settled in under his eyes. His ears stuck out a little, but his face was appealing in a gawky teen sort of way, and Delilah thought that he’d probably grow into a handsome young man in a few years. He wore a pair of high-top Nikes and tube socks whose stripes matched the Chicago Bulls basketball jersey that he wore over a pair of baggy tan cargo shorts. Delilah could see why her daughter would be attracted to him, and also why his cruel rebuff and the rumors that he’d spread about her had hurt so much.

“Tommy?” Delilah leaned across her front seat, making sure that her cleavage was working to her full advantage. It obligingly swelled to an impressive display in her tight v-neck shirt. “I was told you wouldn’t mind making some money.” She smiled sweetly at him.

Tommy’s eyes locked onto Delilah’s bust. “Uh… sure. Money’s great. Wha- um, wha..” He stammered in the presence of such attention. A girl his age, even the hottest in school, that he could deal with. But this woman; she was a total MILF. A cougar. He was momentarily overawed that she would even speak to him.

He quickly took in every detail that he could. The woman in the car was older, probably in her late thirties or early forties he figured, but that didn’t diminish her allure in anyway as far as he could tell. Her smile was the most inviting he had ever had focused on him in his short life and he could almost feel it drawing him to her like a physical force. Even the fine smile lines around the corners of her sparking blue eyes seemed to enhance her desirability instead of detract from it. Her high forehead and dark but perfectly plucked eyebrows gave her an aristocratic air, a theme continued by her long straight nose and pointed chin. Overall, her face was that of classic beauty. She had probably always been beautiful, he thought, and cute probably wasn’t a word that had been used to describe her since before she was his age. Gorgeous, elegant, and even classy were all appropriate, he thought. Her skin was smooth and clear, the only anomaly he saw was a mole next to her right nostril, which was more in the vein of a classic beauty mark than any kind of flaw. Her hair was a long, dark chestnut and framed her face exquisitely, while its gentle flowing curves and subtle bounce lent an elegant playfulness to the slightest movement of her head. Her incredible body, from what he could see though the car’s window was as close to perfect as he’d ever seen in person. A blue silk shirt with a deep V neck, shaded to match her eyes, shimmered as it hugged and accentuated her every curve.

“Lawn mowing, Tommy. I was told you do a very good job of it.” Delilah smiled at him. It was so cute the way he flustered about.

“Oh, yeah. I cut lawns.” Tommy began to regain his composure somewhat. So much for his burgeoning gigolo career that he’d just envisioned.

“Well get in, then.” She patted the passenger seat with her hand. Tommy noticed that her nails matched her shirt and eyes. “I have both a push and riding mower for you to use.”

“Now?” Tommy asked incredulously.

“Sure, there’s no time like the present.” She smiled sweetly at him again. “What do you have to do this afternoon? It won’t take more than a few hours.”

“Well, nothing, I guess.” Tommy reached out and opened the door.

“Good.” Delilah straightened back up and shimmied in her seat to get comfortable. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that even as he slid into his seat, Tommy couldn’t stop staring at her. Her breasts were still waggling about slightly from her motion as he slammed the door. His eyes traveled from her ample bosom down her tapered torso to the tight black mid-thigh skirt and further down her silk stocking legs to her black stiletto heeled shoes. He let out an unintentionally held breath with a heavy sigh.

“Are you OK?” She asked coyly as she pulled back out into the street.

“Yeah, just enjoying the air conditioning.” He breathed in deeply. The whole car was filled with a flowery, feminine smell. “That’s some nice perfume, Mrs...”

“Livingston. I’m Jodie’s mother.” Delilah lied. The Livingstons had moved into the area just before the previous school year had ended and Jodie and Delilah’s daughter Susan had become fast friends since. “And thank you. But it’s the car actually. I have to travel a lot, and it’s asbsorbed the scent of considerable amounts of perfume over the last few years.” She suddenly smacked the steering wheel with the heel of her hand. “Shoot. I don’t have a weed eater. Do you?” She looked over at him hopefully.

Tommy’s eyes instantaneously shot up from her chest to her face. “Yeah, sure. At my house. We… we could get it. It’s just two blocks up and on the left. 309. It’s the big one set back from the street.” Tommy was going to have to give Jodie Livingston a closer look. If in the next few years she turned out to be half as hot as her mom…

“Here?” Delilah interrupted Tommy’s thoughts and nodded at the driveway as they neared it. She knew it was the right house. She’d seen him walk up this same driveway three times this week. Still, it never hurt to make him feel like he was leading her along and not vice versa.

“Yeah. The weed eater’s in the garage. Just pull up to the door and I’ll open up and get it.” He put his hand on the door handle and practically leapt out as she brought the car to a stop. “Be right back!” Tommy called as he ran around in front of the car to a small security system box next to the door. After punching in a code, the door slowly began to rise. Tommy ducked under the door while it was only halfway up and she saw him putting his basketball on a shelf as the door continued to open. Tommy had the weed eater in hand and was turning to come back out to the car as Delilah revved the engine and pulled fully into the garage. Tommy leapt back out of the way as the car’s bumper lurched to a stop barely two feet away. “Hey! What’s the big idea?” Tommy shouted. He looked peeved.

“I’m so sorry!” Delilah opened her door and swiveled her shapely legs out and stood up. “I thought it would be easier to load from in here.” She closed the car door and put her hands on her hips, with her legs spread wide so that the short skirt hugged every curve it covered with tight, taunt fabric. Arching her back, she stretched and rolled her head around. This once again put her chest on display. Also, once again, Tommy lost nearly all of his composure.

“I.. I .. guess so.” He stammered.

“Actually, do you cut your own lawn, Tommy?” Delilah asked. She looked at him expectantly.

“Yeah. Every Sunday, after church.” He stated proudly.

“I’d like to look at the backyard, then. Consider it your resume for the job.” She waved her hand dismissively at the weed eater in his hand. “Put that back up for now. I want to make sure your services are up to my standards.” She cocked her head to the side and gave him a sly sideways glance, while the she shifted her hips to emphasize the hand still on her hip. The pose added innuendo to the statement that she wasn’t sure Tommy would fully understand. That, of course, made it even more fun.

“Sure, ok, Mrs. Livingston.” Tommy swallowed hard and turned and placed the weed eater back on its hook in the corner.

“Oh, can we close the door? It’ll help keep the car cool. We can go through the house, right?” She stepped over to the door that led into the house expectantly.

“Sure.” Tommy walked over to the security panel next to Delilah and pressed the large garage button below it. The door began closing. He took a step back as he realized that in her heels, Delilah was several inches taller than him.

Tommy’s hand reached for the doorknob but a question from Delilah stopped him. “Tommy, that’s a nice security system your family has. Is it a dash B model or a dash E?” Delilah didn’t know much about what model security system the house had, but thankfully, neither did Tommy. It least, that’s what she hoped.

“I don’t know,” was Tommy’s confused answer. “Why?”

“Oh. I’m an interior decorator. I can get new faceplates to replace the panels inside the house, say the one by the front door, or if you have one in the kitchen, to match the decor.” she explained, “It would be a nice Christmas or birthday gift from you and a real surprise for your parents. I bet they would never guess that their son was so thoughtful and insightful with his gift giving. But I’d need to know the model. They look the same on the outside, but the mountings are different on the inside.”

“Ya know, that would be a cool gift for them.” Tommy mused.

“Ok. To find out, input your arming code. Then count to two, and input the disarm code. If it blinks three times afterwards, it’s a dash B. If not, it’s a dash E model. The E’s faceplates are cheaper, and if you become my regular lawn mower, I give them to you at cost. Let’s see if your Christmas budget is in the $60 dollar range or in the $100.” She nodded smiling at the panel like Tommy was about to take the big gamble on a game show. She thought that doing that would just arm and then disarm the system. If so, she’d get a good look at the security code.

“Sure. Come on, E model!” Tommy typed in the arming code. 8-6-7-5, and the ‘armed’ LED turned on. He then counted out loud, “one… two…” and typed in 8-6-7-5 again. The armed LED faded and the green ‘safe’ LED blinked green once and then stayed steady. “I’m a winner!” Tommy smiled.

“We both are.” Delilah smiled back at him. “Be a gentleman with the door?” she gestured to the knob. Tommy reached out and opened the door for her.

Delilah stepped into the cool air conditioned kitchen and spied the security panel by the back door. “I can get one to match this color scheme perfectly, Tommy.” She reached down and slipped her left shoe off as Tommy entered behind her and closed the door. By the time that he saw what she had done, she had both shoes off and was setting them next to the door.

“Why are you taking your shoes off, Mrs. Livingston?”

“I’ve had them on all day; makes my feet so sore. Besides, now we can see eye to eye now.” Delilah smiled as she turned to face him. Sure enough, they were eye to eye and standing less than foot apart. “Tommy…”

“Yes…?” he answered breathlessly. His eyes began to close…

“Let’s go look at the panel by the front door.” Her smile widened momentarily and she turned on her heel and sashayed up the hallway towards the front of the house. Tommy’s eyes opened with a start, but locked on to Delilah’s swaying hips instantly. He followed along behind her towards the front door. “The den looks nice, Tommy. Your folks have good taste.” She reached the front foyer. “I can match this panel too.” she said as she turned around and leaned against the large oak banister to the staircase. Tommy’s eyes rose to meet her face. She tapped her fingernails on the hard wood. “Do you ever slide down this banister?”

“I hardly ever come down any other way.” Tommy admitted. “Can I show you the backyard now?”

“Sure… I take it that your bedroom is upstairs? Does it overlook the yard?” she asked, giving the sly sideways look again, a half smile dancing across her lips.

“Yeah…” Tommy’s eyes widened at the implications.

“Good. Let’s get the bird’s eye view of your work.” Delilah said as she began up the stairs. Her hand gripped the banister’s rail to steady herself as she swung her hips seductively with every step up. Tommy followed silently a few steps behind her, her finely sculpted ass less than an arm’s reach from his face. Slowing slightly and falling back a step gave him more of an upskirt view, and could see that she wore real stockings and not just pantyhose. The frilly lace welt at the top peeked out at him with every step up. To say he was in complete awe would be an understatement.

At the top landing, Delilah stepped to the side and allowed Tommy to pass her. His upper arm brushed up against her breast as he passed. She could feel the almost electric reaction Tommy had from that brief contact. His breathing caught for a moment, and his entire upper body went rigid. Looking straight ahead, he croaked, “Straight back, the door on the right. Follow me.” Delilah stifled a giggle as she fell in behind him.

Tommy stepped quickly into the room and kicked some dirty clothes that were strewn about into a semblance of a pile over against a plastic hamper by the wall. Delilah just smiled at him and ignored the mess. She walked over to the window and looked out into the yard. It did look nicely groomed. She turned and leaned against the window sill. Looking back to Tommy, she crossed her arms under her breasts, framing them perfectly and showing off her cleavage once again. “Have a seat, Tommy” she said, nodding at the bed.

“Sit? On the bed?” Tommy fidgeted, but complied. He sat at the foot of the bed and placed his hands in his lap, hiding his increasing arousal at Delilah’s presence. He wasn’t sure where this was going, and he wasn’t experienced enough to be able to read her subtle predatory signals mixed in with her obvious displays of pure sexuality. He looked up at her with worried eyes.

“The yard looks good. Very good. So, I want ask you a few questions, ok?” Tommy nodded his agreement.

“How long does it take you to mow this yard?”

“About three hours… plus about another hour if the trees and hedges need trimming.

“How much would you charge for a yard about three quarters the size of your back yard?

“Umm, $40. Plus extra for weed eating and trimming the trees and stuff.”

“So my yard, 8 trees, and say, 6 bushes that need to be clipped… would $120 be fair? It’s really grown in the past month while I was gone on business.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “$120? Yeah!”

“Ok. I know this question is a little odd, but bear with me. Tommy, what’s the most important object in your life? Say, if there was a fire, and you were home alone, what would be the one thing of yours that you would try to save?”

Tommy looked perplexed. This question had nothing to do with mowing yards. What was she playing at? “Ummm.. My autographed baseball, I guess.”

“You guess?” Delilah looked up and the ceiling and seemed distressed. “When I was a girl, about your age, my house burned down. My parents had died when I was 12 in a car accident. I had a framed picture from their wedding that sat on my bureau before that fire. So I don’t have to guess. That picture was the most important thing I could have saved. I didn’t get the chance.” She looked down at the floor. “So what is the most important object in your life, Tommy?”

Tommy hung his head down, and appeared to think for a moment. “Well, Mrs. Livingston, I guess that would be my journal and my birthday cards from my read dad.” He looked up and nodded sagely to himself. “Only my mom knows about them, or where I keep them. So, yeah, that would be it.”

“Would you show them to me, Tommy?” she bent down and looked into his eyes.

He looked away from her, staring at a framed Chicago Bulls poster. He seemed to come to a decision. “No!” He said a bit too loudly, “No, that’s too private!” His eyes returned to her face, more defiant than anything she’d seen from him yet. Then the fire left him as he noticed that her face was just inches away from his. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Livingston, but no. What does this have to do with mowing your lawn anyway?”

“Nothing. I… I just thought we’d connected.” Delilah stood up straight again. “Back to business. Do you have a small bag to carry some lawn care gear, clippers, that kind of stuff?”

Tommy seemed happy to put his outburst behind him. “Sure, I’ve got my sports duffle; I can take off all the camping stuff and use it.” He slid off the foot of the bed and headed to his closet. He opened it and retrieved a large bag from the floor. He presented it to Delilah by holding it out like a fisherman with a prize catch. It was a normal over-the-shoulder duffle-style bag with some camping gear hooked on to each end and a thin rolled sleeping bag secured to the side with heavy Velcro straps that sew onto the bag. “Yeah, I use it for camping all the time.”

He set on the bed and began pointing to all the various items hung on it. “Bedroll, canteen, camp stove, first aid kit; it all goes on the outside! The inside is for clothes and toiletries. And since I always keep my ditty bag in there anyway, it’s just add clothes and go!” Tommy was beaming now; his pride in the bag’s utility to a burgeoning outdoorsman was obvious.

“Very nice... Hold on though, before you start taking it apart. I want to see how you did some of that.” Delilah grabbed hold of the canteen and gave it a jerk to the side. She smiled a pleased smile. “This is even better than I expected. Really, it’s almost too perfect.” It’s like he knew her plan and was doing everything he could to help.

“How is it ‘almost too perfect’, Mrs. Livingston?” Tommy asked.

“You’ll find out in a few minutes, Tommy.” It was time. Delilah hoped Tommy would fall for this trick. It was almost too transparent a deception, but she was gaining faith that she could tell Tommy that the sky was green, and he’d go look out the window before questioning her statement. She put on an expression of sudden realization to rope Tommy into her next request. “Tommy, do you have your cell phone on you?”

“Yeah.” Tommy reached into his front pocket and pulled out a flip phone. “Why?”

“I’m going to show you a trick for using a regular old cell phone as a compass. Would that ever come in handy on one of your camping trips?”

“Sure it would. How does it work?” Starting out, Delilah was sure that this was going to be a fidgety, complex hunt, but it was quickly becoming one of her easiest. Obligating prey was a welcome deviation from the norm.

“Ok, open your phone, and set it on a flat surface… like there, on your desk.” Tommy did as he was instructed. “Ok, now breathe on it enough to fog up the screen.” As Tommy huffed and puffed, Delilah reached into her cleavage and pulled out her shrinker. She took a step back out of the way toward the window. “Ok as soon as it’s foggy, get back about eight feet. I’d jump up on the center of your bed if it were me.” Tommy turned and jumped up onto his bed and spun around to watch the cell phone intently.

As the phone just sat there, Tommy looked over at Delilah with a suspicious look on his face. “Mrs. Livingston, what’s the trick?”

Delilah shook her head, sad that the first part of the game was now over. “Tommy, my boy, it was all a trick.” And she fired the shrinker concealed under her crossed arms at him.

Tommy was instantaneously reduced to about a foot and a half tall. He lay sprawled on the bed, bouncing about due to the mattress springs’ recoil from his sudden loss of mass. Delilah tucked the shrinker back into her cleavage as she stepped over to the foot of the bed and loomed over the tiny soon-to-be-captive. “Ahhhh!!” Tommy screamed, “What happened?!? Mrs. Livingston, help! Help me!” As she looked down, Delilah reached in the slim pocket of her skirt and pulled out a pair of latex gloves.

“No, I’ll help myself now, Tommy. I shrank you, and now I’m going to take you. Thanks for being so cooperative and helpful so far during all this.” She pulled the gloves on quickly and walked over to the framed poster that Tommy had stared at when she had asked him to show her his most prized possessions.

“This can’t be happening.” Tommy said as he watched Delilah walk across his room. He would barely come up to her knee now.

“Even when you didn’t think you were being helpful, well, you were.” Delilah continued. She lifted the Bulls poster off the wall to reveal a small knick knack shelf set into the wall behind it. She grabbed a stack of greetings card envelopes and a small book and held them up “Your birthday cards, and your diary.” She walked over to his camping bag.

“That’s a journal!” He stood up and ran at her, his fist raring back for a swing.

“Whatever.” She dropped the cards and book in the bag and nonchalantly backhanded him across the chest with an intercepting hand. He landed roughly on the bed after flying back a few feet and curled up in a fetal position. “Don’t ever try to attack your owner again, boy. In the future, that will get you really hurt. Your owner can treat you however she pleases, say whatever she pleases to you, and most importantly, do whatever she pleases with you. Never forget that.” Tommy began sobbing softly.

She looked at the other items on the shelf. There was about $200 dollars in cash, and assorted other things; things that must have had enough personal importance to him to keep, but that he didn’t want anyone to know about. An official looking certificate that declared him a ‘Pokemon Master’ might be a little embarrassing at his age, and the commendation for being the best hide and seeker in the third grade would definitely cause a visiting friend to poke fun. In the end, she decided that if it was on the shelf, it might be important enough for a runaway to take with him. It all went in the bag, except the cash, which went into the pocket her gloves had come from. “It’s a shame for your parents that you’re running away from home today, Tommy. Well, that’s what all the evidence will point to when I get done, anyway. You’ll really be going to your new home, where you will be a slave… for the rest of your existence.” She then replaced the Bulls poster on the wall. Tommy stirred slightly upon hearing that, but still didn’t seem to comprehend it. He surely didn’t act on it.

He was still in shock over the situation, Delilah concluded, and shrugged. She turned and carefully opened up the top drawer on Tommy’s chest of drawers. Sure enough, it was the socks and underwear drawer. She grabbed a week’s worth of both and lined the bottom of the bag with them. She then moved on to the next drawer. T-shirts. She grabbed a handful and tossed them onto the bed. The final drawer was jeans and shorts. She pulled out a few pairs of each and they joined the t-shirts in the pile on the bed.

She then grabbed the scotch tape dispenser and a wooden ruler off Tommy’s desk. She walked over to the bed and dropped the tape next to Tommy’s huddled form. She then turned and sat on the bed, smoothing and tucking her skirt under as she settled in with her knees tightly together. The skirt hugged her curves. She reached over and prodded Tommy with the ruler. “Come here, Tommy. NOW.”

Tommy looked up at the ruler, and then his gaze followed up past Delilah’s hand, up her arm, to her face. She was sitting only a few feet away, but towered above him. It was inconceivable to him. Still, with her sudden strike and callous words, she had made it clear to him that he’d better do what she told him. He slowly rolled up on to his hands and knees and began crawling towards her. She lifted the ruler up and watched with satisfaction.

“Good boy, Tommy.” Delilah cooed, “Crawl to my lap.” With a quick flick of her wrist she popped Tommy on the ass with the ruler “Faster, Tommy. I’m done wasting time with you.” Tommy quickly covered the remaining distance and stopped at her leg. He sat up into a kneeling position, but kept his head bowed, as if he could make Delilah’s towering stature diminish simply by not looking at her. She flicked his ass again with the ruler. “Get on my lap, boy. It’s been a goal of yours since you got into my car, after all.” Tommy surged forward from the ruler’s sting. He crawled up onto her lap easily, but once again the ruler flicked out. “Don’t get your shoes on my skirt! Crawl on your knees and get those heels up by your ass. If you weren’t such a stupid little boy, you’d done that already, so I couldn’t spank you as easily. Now, get back towards my knees and kneel facing me, slave.” Tommy did as he was told, but continued looking down.

Delilah looked down at Tommy and was pleased with the results. He was doing as he was told right now, but she knew that would likely change. The shock of the situation would wear off soon and he’d try to escape. They always did. As soon as he realizes that his best chance of escape would be before she took him with her, rather than after, he’d start. Of course, if she had him completely trapped before the reality of the situation sets in, then his desires for escape become moot. She reached over and picked up the tape.

Ssstttttiiiiiiiiiiiiipptt… Delilah pulled out a generous foot-long length of tape at her eye level. She glanced down past her swelling breasts to see Tommy was now looking straight up at the tape. This was the moment he would try to make a break for it. Would he jump off her lap to the floor below? Would he dive past her try to run across the bed? Or would he realize it was hopeless and submit? She tried to gauge Tommy’s reaction.

Amazingly, Tommy didn’t choose any of the three. “Noooo! Mrs. Livingston! Please, no!” he cried as he threw his arms up to try and fend off her attempt to bind him. Tommy had been kneeling half on Delilah’s skirt and half on her legs thanks to his fear of getting his shoeprints on her skirt. That proved to be fortuitous, as he lost his balance and tumbled backwards off her lap and slid down her shapely leg.

Delilah’s leg kicked out as she reflexively tried to catch Tommy on her foot before he hit the floor. She watched in horror as she in fact launched him, and he flew in a wide arc across the room and out the doorway. He landed and rolled over several times. Then he jumped to his feet and raced out of view down the hall. “Damn!” Delilah spat between clenched teeth. She jumped to her feet and gave chase.

The hallway was short and upon turning the corner, she saw that it led to just two rooms, a bathroom and Tommy’s parent’s bedroom. She stood in indecision. Which had he run to? If she picked the bathroom, he might double back on her. And she might bypass him entirely if she just headed blindly to the master bedroom. Then she heard a sound from the bedroom, like a scraping noise. She reached out and pulled the bathroom door close with an ominous click of the latch. She moved on to the master bedroom.

She stood in the doorway and surveyed the room. There was a large chest of drawers, a low vanity table, a king sized bed, two bedside tables, a large armoire, the half open closet door… he had dozens of hiding places at his size. The king sized bed with its dust ruffles, decorative covers, throw pillows, and box springs would take a half hour to investigate just by itself. She looked down in disgust, and was considering going down to the car and getting a handful of batteries so she could just systematically shrink everything in the room until she found him when she saw a shadow of movement along the base of the makeup table at her side. “Tommy, come out. I know you’re under the vanity.” She said in her most commanding tone. “If you come out right now, your punishment will be minor. But if you make me get down on my hands and knees and get you… well, you’ll pay for that. In the only way a slave can, pain and tears.” She hoped it had scared him. If he wasn’t under there, she had just made a fool of herself. He’d pay dearly for that too, if it was the case.

She stepped around to the front of the vanity and stood perplexed. Instead of seeing Tommy wedged under the vanity, flanked by short stubby wooden legs, she instead saw a wooden cherry baseboard. There was nowhere for Tommy to hide, unless he lifted the whole thing up and set back down on top of himself. Delilah decided to gamble one last time. Would he know that he couldn’t escape? “Tommy, I’m counting to three. I think you know what that means. If I get to three, you’ll pay for it. You can’t hide. I’ll start shrinking everything in here until there’s nothing big enough for you to hide under if you don’t get out here and submit to me, right now. YOU ARE MINE, BOY! OK? HERE WE GO, THEN! ONE… TWO… THR…”

She saw movement as a hidden door popped open in the baseboard under the right set of drawers on the vanity. Tommy’s arms stuck out as he surrendered. “NO! I’m here. I’m sorry I ran! Please Mrs. Livingston, mercy!” He began crying again as he desperately apologized. He tried crawling out, but it was a tight squeeze for him. It must have been pure adrenaline that allowed him to jam himself into the hidden compartment so quickly.

“I thought I told you I was done wasting my time with you, Tommy?” Delilah growled as she kneeled and grabbed Tommy’s forearms in her left fist. “Did you think I was joking? Why would I need to amuse my own property? That’s what you are now, property. And here I am, on my knees. You’ve just earned the punishment you’ll be getting, you can count on that.” With a steady pull, she extracted him from his hiding place.

“Oh God… Mrs. Livingston, I so sor...” Tommy sobbed.

“SHUT UP, SLAVE!” Delilah yelled down at him, cutting off his sycophantic pleading. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Tommy was still sobbing into the carpet as she bent down and looked into the hidden compartment.

Inside was a gray metal box. She reached in a grabbed it by the handle mounted on the front and began pulling it out. She had to move Tommy’s prostrate form by dragging him face down across the carpet to back near her heel because the box was so long. At least two feet long. It looked like a safety deposit box, about six inches wide with a lock set into the front and the hinged lid that opened to the middle of the top. “Interesting. Tommy, what’s in this box?” She raised the hand up that held his arms, dragged him to his knees in the process and looked down at him. “Well?”

“I – I don’t know.” Tommy said between heaving frightened breaths. “I just knew that side had the door and the other one has the drawer.” His breath caught in his throat as he realized what he had just said.

Delilah knotted her brow and peered closely at the base board under the left bank of drawers. She knee-walked closer while dragging Tommy along, not willing to release her iron grip on his arms. Sure enough, she saw the seams of a concealed drawer there. She reached out and pushed on it, and was rewarded as a spring latch popped it open. Carefully pulling it open, her anger melted away as the glitter of numerous diamonds and other beautiful pieces of jewelry sparkled in the light streaming in the window. “Thank you Tommy.” Delilah said calmly down at Tommy as she raised him up to his knees again. “You’re still going to be punished, but now it’ll be for my enjoyment and entertainment, instead of in anger.” He cringed as she stood up and casually walked back to his room carrying him hanging by her grip on his arms. His feet dangled inches from the floor, and he was facing backwards, forced to watch only where he’d been, but not where she was taking him as she left the master bedroom. Behind them the jewelry drawer still lay open and exposed while the lock box set on the carpet next to it, their locations no longer cleverly concealed.

“You know you can’t be trusted. You just proved that.” Delilah said at she stood him up on his desk, “So the tape isn’t optional. Neither is the shirt; take it off. It’s part of your punishment.” She turned and retrieved the ruler and tape from where she had dropped them when Tommy had fled. “Shorts, socks and shoes too. I want you in your tighty-whiteys, junior. You need get used to it. You won’t be wearing any clothes as a slave, anyway.”

Tommy, frightened of what other punishment she might add to the sentence that already hung over his head, stripped quickly. By the time she’d come back to the desk, he was standing there in nothing but his underwear, his hands cupped shyly over his privates.

Delilah looked down at him and slapped the ruler into the palm of her left hand as she towered over him. Even while standing on the higher-than-normal desk Tommy still didn’t reach her chin. “Hands by your sides, Tommy. Slaves should never hide anything from their owners; it’s part of the privilege of ownership, and reminds you that you’re the slave.” He complied, and Delilah continued to talk and strike her palm with the ruler. “A young man like you should be enjoyed as much as possible by his owner. Or at least enjoyed as much as she desires.” She cocked her head to the side and studied the bulge in Tommy’s BVDs. Her daughter had better taste than she’d given her credit for. “Move up to the edge of the table, Tommy.” He once again did as he was told, unsure of what she was planning. Still, he said nothing. “Now bend over and grab your ankles.” Delilah commanded. He did so slowly, as the vertigo inducing three foot drop loomed before him. Suddenly, his view was blocked as Delilah stepped in next to him.

She brought her left arm around over his head so that his head and neck were cupped by her armpit, basically placing him in a headlock-style position if he’s been about twice his current size. As it were, she pulled her elbow in and trapped him in what would be more accurately described as a ‘bodylock’ thanks to the scale difference. Her left hand encircled his calves as her left breast pressed sensuously against his body from shoulder to waist, shifting and rubbing against him with her every breath. The silk shirt she wore made it a comforting and arousing cocoon for Tommy. As he enjoyed the somewhat intimate contact, he had no idea what she was doing with her right hand. It, unfortunately for him, raised the ruler and positioned it so she could swat Tommy’s underwear clad ass.

“What did I tell you, Tommy?” She demanded; the unseen ruler raring back for her first swing.

“That – that you were going to punish me?” Tommy’s now frighten voice called out from behind her shoulder.

*Smack!* the ruler’s impact was sudden and loud. From Tommy’s perspective, it was also exceedingly painful. “Ahhhooowwwcchh!” He cried.

“Not that, slave! What did I tell you?” Delilah demanded again. *Smack!* the ruler hit struck Tommy’s ass a second time.

“Ahhhhh!” Tommy screamed, “That I’m stupid! I’m stupid and little!” His legs were trying to run, but Delilah’s grip stopped any hope of escape.

“You are, but still wrong! What did I tell you?” Delilah continued. *Smack!* the ruler hit struck once more.

“Ahhhhhggghh!” The tears had started. “That I’m yours! That you own me!”

“Very true! *Smack!* But it’s still not what I want to hear!” *Smack!* “What did I tell you?” *Smack!* The tempo of the ruler increased. Delilah was beginning to get into punishing Tommy. With every swing, her hair became more disheveled and was beginning to fall into her face as tiny beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

“Aahangngngh!” Tommy bawled. “That – That I’ll pay you in pain and tears!”

*Smack!* “Oh, little slave, you will… *Smack!* you will. But...” *Smack!* “WHAT DID I TELL YOU?” *Smack!* Delilah’s pulse was quickening and she bit her lower lip as her breath came faster and faster.

“Awwwngngnh! You said that this is for my own good and your enjoyment!” *Smack!* “ARRRGGL! Please! Mrs Livingston! Stop!” *Smack!* “Awwwooccchh! Please stop!”

“I do enjoy this!” *Smack!* “I won’t stop!” *Smack!* “Not until you can tell me - ” *Smack!* “WHAT *Smack!* DID *Smack!* I *Smack!* TELL *Smack!* YOU?” *Smack!* Delilah’s hips bucked with every strike.

“AHHHGNGNGH!” THAT, THAT YOU CAN TREAT ME HOWEVER YOU WANT,” *Smack!* “AHHHANGNH! AND SAYS WHATEVER YOU WANT” *Smack!* “OWWWWGH! AND DO WHATEVEN YOU WANT!” *Smack!* “I WON”T FORGET THAT AGAIN!” *Smack!* “YOU OWN ME! *Smack!* YOU OWN ME! *Smack!* YOU OWN ME!” *Smack!* Tommy screamed as Delilah continued to wail on him with the ruler.

“YES!” *Smack!* “YES!” *Smack!* “THAT’S WHAT I *Smack!* TOLD YOU, TOMMY!” *Smack!* Delilah cried out, writhing in the ecstasy of delivering Tommy’s painful reminder. “YES! *Smack!* REMEMBER IT!” *Smack!* With that last blow, she dropped the ruler to the desk with a clatter and began to try to regain her composure. She pushed her hair back out of her face and fanned the sheen of sweat away with her hand.

She held Tommy in that position for another five to ten minutes, cooling down from her almost orgasmic high and listening satisfyingly to Tommy softly cry. Finally, she reached over and pulled his underwear down and inspected his buttocks. They were a deep red and she could see some bruising had started, but it shouldn’t be too serious. She pulled his underwear back up and gave him a light swat on the ass with her hand. He cried out in pain and she laughed out loud at his discomfort. “Remember it, slave.” She said at she began to release him from her immobilizing hold. “Reminder me you still need to be punished later, too. That was just playing.”

Tommy fell to his hands and knees as Delilah stepped back from the desk and stretched. She’d gone as close to the edge as she’d dared while still in Tommy’s house, but it still felt great, even without a full release. “I do love playing.” She mused out loud.

She returned her attention to Tommy and loomed over him once again. She picked up the ruler and noticed Tommy cringe. Good. He was learning. She leaned over him and shook three or four rubber bands loose from a container of various office fasteners at the back of the desk. She quickly threaded them though the holes in the center of the ruler and looped them back around it. “Stand up, Tommy. NOW.”

Tommy moved slowly, but he made the effort as quickly as he could. Delilah popped him once on the leg with the ruler anyway. “Too slow. But since you’re going as fast as you can, I’ll not spank you for it.” Tommy rubbed his thigh that was quickly turning red from her little encouragement tap and continued to slowly make his way to a full upright stance. She popped him on the opposite thigh. “I would think that I would get a word of gratitude for such undeserved kindness as that.” Tommy grunted in pain and tried to rub both legs at once, to keep the blood flowing and minimize bruising. Delilah took the opportunity to suddenly flick him in the crotch with her middle finger on her left hand. “So, some lessons in manners are needed too, I see.” Tommy doubled over in severe pain from the hit. His vision blurred and he saw nothing but stars. “STAND UP, TOMMY. NOW.” She repeated her original command.

Tommy straightened up almost completely, but he still held his groin with his cupped hands and grimaced from the blinding pain. “I thought I told you that slaves should never hide anything from their owners.” The ruler snaked around and popped him sharply on the ass once again. He screamed in pain and reflexively shot up ram-rod straight as his hands flew to his sides, his fists balled up in agony. “See… you just needed the right encouragement.” Delilah said as her left hand flew out and grasped him by the neck. His hands then came up and grappled with Delilah’s wrist as she lowered the ruler parallel down his back while looping the middle rubber band over his head. Looking down at his hands clawing at her, Delilah coldly spoke. “I’d almost think you’re trying to attack your owner, Tommy. Or stop her from doing whatever she wants with you.”

Tommy’s eyes widened and he dropped his hands to his sides. Delilah released her grip on his neck and widened the rubber band with the fingers of that hand. She then guided the band over his shoulders and on down towards his waist. But first she need to guide the topmost rubber band passed his shoulders also. He kept his hands by his sides as she shifted and adjusted the rubber bands into their final positions at his waist and across his chest, pinning his arms in place. Through the haze of pain that came with the ruler’s almost constant incidental contact with his badly beaten buttocks, he noticed that as the procedure continued, Delilah’s countenance changed from vindictive and cruel to increasingly cheerful and, well, still cruel… though less so.

As soon as she was happy with the final placement of the two rubber bands she reached for the tape. “I told you it wasn’t going to be optional, Tommy,” she smiled as she pulled out a length of tape and planted the end of it in the center of his chest with her thumb. Anchoring it there, she tightly wound the dispenser around his torso until it reached his chest again and then she doubled up on it with another pass around. She did the same to his mid-torso, waist, upper legs, knees, calves and ankles. He struggled slightly, but the ruler acted as a ridged board that he was now fully strapped to, from just below the knees to the base of his neck. With a full two thirds of his body taped to it, he ceased fighting; resigned to his fate.

She then cradled him facing forward in the crook of her left arm like a football and gathered up the last rubber band. It was a small, thick one, and she stretched it over the fingers of her right hand. She then palmed Tommy’s head, and guided the rubber band down over it until the band was even with his mouth. “Open wide, Tommy… or this might just break your teeth or dislocate your jaw.” Tommy’s mouth opened obligingly and she eased the rubber band free of her fingers and into the makeshift gag that she intended. Tommy made a few gagging sounds and whipped his head around, but could neither dislodge it nor chew through it. She then laid him on the desk on his belly. “Lost for words, Tommy? I don’t blame you.” She mockingly chided.

The final rubber band that she’d threaded onto the ruler was one of the longer ones she had seen on his desk, almost as long as the ruler was. Delilah reached out and plucked a pencil from the mug on Tommy’s desk and used it to pry his gag away from the back of his head. She then carefully threaded the long rubber band through and pulled it tight while doubled it back to hook over the bottom of the ruler. This pulled his head back painfully, but with some considerable effort, he could straighten his neck back out again. Delilah corrected that by wrapping tape around his chest and shoulders until the rubber band was anchored down tightly at his shoulders instead of at his knees. She finally looked satisfied with his bonds, as he now couldn’t move his neck forward at all and it was held in an awkward and painful position. That should help wear his resistance down some more, she though.

Delilah then dropped Tommy onto the bed next to his bag and the pile of clothes that’s she’d tossed over by it. She delicately sat on edge of the bed much as she had before the chase into the master bedroom and began stuffing clothes into the bag, but not in a haphazard way. She angled the layers so that the front was much higher than the back and kept shifting them until she was finally satisfied with her efforts. She scooped up Tommy and settled him into the bag belly down with his head on the high end of her ‘clothes wedge’. His head and neck stuck out of the bag that way and she stuffed the second pair of jeans around and behind his feet so he couldn’t slide down the wedge’s incline. She stood up and smiled down at Tommy’s trapped form. “We’re almost ready, slave.” Then she reviewed the room.

She scooped up the tiny clothes from on the desk and tossed them into the bag, smirking slightly as Tommy winced from one of his shoes bouncing off the back of his head. The rubber band gag and brace insured that he remained relatively silent and completely still.

She made a few other adjustments to make it look like he’d left in a hurry, such as making sure the drawers weren’t pushed back in all the way and that the Bulls poster was slightly askew. Then she scooped up the autographed baseball from its stand and dropped it in the bag by his legs. Since that was his first answer to her ‘what would you save’ question, she decided the erstwhile runaway would be taking it with him after all. Then, satisfied at the condition of the room, she shook out the last t-shirt and moved towards Tommy in his bag.

Delilah spread the t-shirt over Tommy’s bound body and tucked him in. Grabbing the bag up, she walked quickly to the master bedroom and began filling the bag with Mrs. Morris’s jewelry. Diamonds and gold glittered as display box after display box went into the bag. Delilah couldn’t believe it. The value of it all had to top $100,000 easily. Finally, she had it all and slid the drawer closed again. To add insult to injury, Delilah also poured the contents of the ‘decoy’ jewelry box from the top of the vanity in too. She shook the bag to settle the contents around Tommy and zipped it up so that only his neck and head stuck out. Since he was lying on his belly and the rubber bands held his head back at a painful angle, he could only look straight forward or turn his head somewhat from side to side. Looking down, however, was right out. Then she picked up the lock box and bag containing Tommy. Her stocking clad toe nudged the hidden compartment’s door closed and she returned to Tommy’s bedroom one last time.

She set the lock box and Tommy on the bed facing the window and leaned up against the windowsill in front of him, much as she had when questioning him earlier. “Ok, I want to make sure I don’t forget anything and be very thorough in making you disappear. You were a big part of it, by the way. I do so like it when the prey helps to trap himself. Or seemingly goes out of his way to help, in your case. Let me explain.” She took a deep breath and prepared to lecture Tommy on how she had tricked him in to giving up his freedom.

“First, thank you for getting in the car. I thought about shrinking you right there and then, but I had already a plan that I thought might work. Looking for a missing boy; they use dogs. They look locally. Not good. But a runaway? They concentrate on the bus stations, truck stops, airports, and places to travel from. No real effort is made in a massive local search.” Delilah was enjoying explaining how Tommy had made his own capture happen so easily.

“Then you let me hide my car in your garage. No one has seen that my car has been here for the past half hour; there’s no evidence to any passersby that I’m here. It’s as incriminating here right now as it would be if it was still in my own garage! And then to top it off, you fell for my trick and gave me your security code, you stupid boy!” She saw that that one really stung Tommy’s pride. Good.

“And thanks to your gentlemanly ways, I got into the house and didn’t touch a thing here except the banister before I put my gloves on. The only fingerprints that I have to get rid of are on the banister that you admitted to sliding down everyday. I guess you’ll have one last slide as you leave today, and erase them.” She waggled her gloved fingers at him. “Oh, and the whole ‘most important thing’ question? That was masterful, if I do say so myself. I almost wish I could tell my parents about getting you to open up like that. But I can’t. Oh, not because they died in a fire, they’re just retired. But I can’t tell them because they wouldn’t approve of the whole kidnapping and slavery business.” Tommy was crying again now, ashamed of how he’d been tricked.

“And as to that bag you’re currently occupying. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to pack a ‘runaway bag’ that would stand up to parental scrutiny. But you did all of that for me! Like I said earlier, it was almost too perfect. Your mother’s jewelry and whatever’s in that lock box are just icing on the cake. I mean, taking the jewelry and valuables from a hiding place that only a family member would know of? You couldn’t have chosen a stupider or more damning hiding place.”

Delilah shook her head in disbelief. “I’m so glad I caught you… you’re almost too stupid to not be a slave. A hard, painful life of bondage and servitude will be perfect for you. I only wish I’d thought to catch you a few years ago so that you could have proper subservient discipline and training instilled in you as you grew up being a proper slave for my daughter. Her crush on you is purely physical, I believe, although your remarks and rumor mongering last month did hurt her so. She’s just now getting back to her old self.” Delilah noticed the confusion in Tommy’s red, tear-stained eyes.

“Oh… that’s right, you think I’m Janie’s mother. No, little slave, I’m Susan Tomlinson’s mother.” She smiled widely as Tommy’s eyed widened at the revelation. “I’ve been doing research all week, watching you, watching your family, and planning. It’s Susan’s sweet sixteen in five days, and I felt I had to give her main gift, a car, to her a bit early in an effort to undo the damage you did. So, I though it would be nice to give you to her as a present instead on her actual birthday.” She leaned forward down low and smirked sexily. “I’m sure the breaking in period will be a steady diet of pleasure and pain for you, and pleasure and pleasure for her.” She stood up and moved towards Tommy’s desk.

“Anyway, there’s almost no way for this not to look like you ran away. But don’t worry; I’ve got one last bit of evidence that will cinch it for them. Time to send a text from your phone, that just so happens to only have your fingerprints on it.” Delilah picked up the pencil that she’d used as a pry on his gag and turned her attention to Tommy’s open cell phone. She leaned over it and tucked her hair back behind her ears. As she did so, she imagined Tommy’s view of her, and how her skirt would be riding up as she bent over. He was probably in no mood or condition to enjoy the show, but she still enjoyed the fact that it would be some small torture for him. Smiling to herself and waggling her booty slightly, she flipped the pencil over so that eraser was facing down and began her crowning piece of evidence to Tommy’s disappearance.

By using the eraser very gently and carefully pressing the buttons from the edges, she searched though his text messaging history, concentrating on the few messaged he had sent his mother and got a feel for his texting style and common typos. Then she opened a message to his mother’s mobile number and typed in this message:

mom im sory but i cant take it

anymore im leavn plz dont try

2 find me sory 4 takin yer stuf

i <3 u

 And she hit SEND. Delilah popped the phone closed with the pencil’s eraser and turned to the bed. “And… still just your fingerprints. Face it, Tommy, you’re all mine. And soon, all Susan’s. I think this will prove to be the best sweet sixteen she could ever have.” She checked her watch. “Time to go, Tommy. Say goodbye to your room, your life and your freedom, slave.”

 Laughing lightly to herself, Delilah swept up the bag containing Tommy and slung it over her right shoulder and tucked the lock box under her left arm as she walked briskly from Tommy’s room for the last time. She tucked the pencil into the folds of the bedroll and rested her arm on top of the bag with her hand cupping Tommy’s head. She tousled his hair as they reached the top of the stairs. “Last time down the banister for you, slave. Wheee!” she mocked him with the elated sound of excitement as she slid the bag down the oak railing, erasing the only damning evidence that she’d been there at all. Reaching the bottom, she smiled dreamily at how well it had all gone.

 Upon reaching the kitchen, she gingerly gripped the door handle to the garage with two fingers and opened the latch. She then reached up and pulled the door open from the top. “One of the most important things, Tommy, is not just making sure that you don’t get your fingerprints on things, but to make sure you don’t smudge or ruin the fingerprints that are supposed to be there. You probably didn’t notice, but I pulled your drawers open from the sides of the handles, not the grips that you normally use, and the same with all the doors in the house.” She raised her eyebrows sagely at Tommy as she pointed out more of her precautions for escaping detection. She was still smiling dreamily down at him as she pulled on her shoes and stepped out into the garage. She hooked the door down low with her gloved finger and gave it a jerk. It freely swung closed behind her with a slam.

 Delilah started to walk to the car, but stopped short as she noticed a workbench across the garage against the far wall. As she walked up to the bench she slipped Tommy’s bag off her shoulder and hooked the strap onto a nail in a rafter overhead. Thanks to that, Tommy hung roughly eye to eye with Delilah. Feeling playful, she cooed “Eye to eye again, Tommy!” and pursed her lips into a smooch, closed her eyes and mockingly air kissed him. Giggling girlishly, she gripped the side of Tommy’s head and gave a mighty shove. Tommy’s bag spun around wildly, the many assorted pieces of camping gear swinging out due to centrifugal force. Ignoring Tommy’s dilemma and discomfort, Delilah set the lock box on the work bench and selected a heavy sledge hammer with ‘20 lbs.’ embossed on the head from a rack of tools on the side of the bench.  She gripped it over her head and swung with all her might. With a resounding *clang!* the box dented, but didn’t yield. *clang!*

 *clang!* Tommy recoiled and spun back and forth around dizzily as Delilah continued to beat on the box with the hammer. *clang!* *clang!* *clang!* *clang!* *clang!* *clang!* She was just about to give up and simply take it with her, when the latch finally gave way. Dropping the hammer lazily to the floor, she pushed her hair back into the semblance of her normal coifed look and raised the lid. Money. Lots of money. She poured it all out on the bench and felt a little sick. It was bundles of $100 bills. She counted fifty bundles in total. That came up to $500,000. A half million in cash. She slowly turned to Tommy, whose spinning motion had finally ceased, and calmly said “You’re going to tell me everything you know.” She then grabbed the bag off its nail and set it heavily on the bench. She unzipped it and opened it as wide as she could.

 Delilah shoved the cash into the bag wherever she could, and when it became obvious that it all wouldn’t fit, she pulled out the jeans that kept Tommy from sliding backwards in the bag and replaced them with bundles of bills. Finally, she got it all in. After zipping up, she slung the bag over her shoulder and reached down and grabbed the sledgehammer. After wiping it and the lock box down with the leg of the jeans, she stepped back and surveyed everything. The box and hammer would stay here. She glanced at her watch and saw that nearly ten minutes had passed since she sent the text to Tommy’s mother. Shit! She had to get out of here! If Mrs. Morris had called the police as soon as she had gotten the text, and the police had decided to respond with a courtesy stop as soon as she called, then they could be here any minute! She’d had no idea that she’d gotten that caught up in dealing with the lock box.

 She hustled to the security panel by the door and grabbed the pencil from where she’d tucked it into the bedroll. She pressed the ‘garage door’ button with the eraser the same way she’d manipulated Tommy’s cell phone before and raced back to the car. She flung Tommy’s bag and jeans into the passenger seat and started the car, gripping the pencil tightly in her hand as she waited for the door to raise high enough for her to back out. As soon as it was, she pulled out into the driveway.

 Delilah stopped the car just outside the door. She exited the car and quickly crossed over to the outside security panel. She pressed the ‘garage door’ button with the eraser and bounced impatiently as she waited for the door to finish closing. As soon as it did, she punched in the arming code: 8-6-7-5. Obligingly, the green ‘disarmed’ LED faded and the red ‘armed’ LED blinked once and then stayed steady. She trotted back to her car and dropped the pencil onto the seat next to the bag containing Tommy. She then threw the car into reverse and made a K turn in the large driveway. As she pulled down the drive, she took a deep breath and relaxed; she was almost free and clear. Pulling up to the end of the drive she striped off her latex gloves and dropped them unceremoniously onto Tommy’s head.

 As she calmly pulled out into the street, she was pleased to see no other traffic. She bobbed along with the radio’s music as she drove, making sure to not draw any attention to herself by speeding or anything of that ilk.

 Several blocks away, near where she’d first lured Tommy into her car, Delilah pulled over to clear the street like any conscientious driver should for a police cruiser with its lights and siren going full blast. It raced passed her heading in the direction of the Morris house. Delilah looked down at Tommy, the gloves having fallen off his head at some point during the drive, and laughed. “No one can save you now, Tommy! Your last chance at rescue just flew right passed! Susan will definitely get the gift she deserves and you’ll get your just deserts!” She turned up the radio and pulled back into the street as she reached down and tousled Tommy’s head playfully. Several intersections later, she finally saw some other traffic and covered Tommy’s head with the loose pair of jeans. She cheerfully continued her drive home.