Friday finally came. I waited patiently for my dad and Cindy to arrive. Sonya was her usual self, peeping out the window every time a car went by and pacing back and forth. One time when she sat down, I rubbed her foot and told her she seemed anxious to get rid of me. She laughed, pinning me down with her toes against the soft carpet telling me I could stay with her always and she would never tire of me.
She tried calling Frank on his cell phone to see if the flight had been delayed or if traffic was bad. Someone else answered his phone. The pressure from her foot increased on top of me mashing me deep into the carpet. My chest was about to explode when I heard her scream and I was kicked across the room.
As I stood trying to regain my senses, she was sitting on the sofa, still on the phone, crying. Just then there was a knock at the door, there were two policemen and another woman standing there. They asked to come inside and she let them in. The woman had her sit and she put her arm around her as she told her of the accident on the freeway.
Sonya was crying rivers of tears. It never really hit me until the woman said there was two other passengers in the vehicle who didn’t survive either. When I heard those words, I dropped to my knees. I couldn’t believe it. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” I shouted. But it fell upon deaf ears as Sonya’s sobs were drowning out everything else in the room.
“OH NO!” Sonya said as she jumped up from the sofa. Her eyes quickly scanned the floor where she saw me, on my knees, face in hands crying, and she walked over and picked me up holding me in her cupped hands as she sat back down on the sofa.
The woman excused the two officers and she sat there holding Sonya as the policemen left. She stared at me for a few moments before asking me if I had any family I could go to. I told her no, my dad and Cindy was it.
She looked at Sonya, and Sonya assured the woman I was perfectly fine there with her because she always looked after me when my parents were out of town and that they were best friends.
The woman stayed for several hours until she felt Sonya and I were stable enough to be left alone. Sonya called Debbie at school and told her the news, and that night, Debbie came home.
The next several days were hard on all of us. Three funerals in one day is the worst thing I’ve ever been to.
The next week everything seemed in slow motion. Debbie went back to school and Sonya and myself went back to my dad and Cindy’s house and got my things. All the other stuff was sold with the house and the money was put into an account to take care of me.
I never slept in my doll house very often, just afternoon naps was about it. I was either sleeping on a pillow on the bed with Sonya or she would put me in her pantyhose at the toe section and sleep in them.
Debbie blamed me for her fathers death. “If it wasn’t for him meeting us he would still be alive” she would tell me while doing something abusive and hateful to me. Her favorite thing to do to me was put me in her flip-flop and abuse me.
She would slowly bring her foot down on me until I was pressed so deep into the rubber she thought I would squish underneath her and then she would release the pressure for a minute or two and do it again.
She would tape me or use rubber bands to restrain me to her flip-flop at the heel and slide it on and begin slapping it against her heel. I would hang there sometimes for hours as she twitched her ankle making her shoe slap the bottom of her foot.
It was relentless. I begged her one day to stomp on me and end my life, I couldn’t take it anymore. In a frenzy, I ran to her foot kicking and punching, blinded by my own tears, screaming up at her, calling her every name I could think trying to piss her off enough to squish me and end this nightmare.
She looked at me, almost sympathetically and reached down, picked me up ever so gently, smiled, and told me my punishment would never end with her before dropping me at her feet and knocking me back and forth between them.
Sonya walked in and saw her battering me and yelled at her to stop. Sonya rushed over and grabbed me, inspected me as best she could and carried me to her bedroom and put me on her bed and told me to rest.
I heard her and Debbie shouting at each other, and made out most of the conversation, just then a door slammed and Sonya came back into the bedroom and laid across the bed and spoke to me.
“Debbie is going back to school now, she won’t ever hurt you again, I made her promise” she said. “Now, as for you, I need a favor”
I looked up at her and said: “Sonya, you know I do anything you ask me to do”
“Yes you do” she smiled as she stood up and took her clothes off and laid back down. She picked me up and placed me at her vagina and snapped her fingers and motioned me to go to it. When I didn’t, she grabbed me and shoved me inside head first and didn’t stop until she had several orgasms.
It took a year of court and lawyers, but, she was able to get custody of me and adopt me soon afterwards. I often wonder if she knows the difference between “adoption” and “slavery” because that’s what I have become. Her slave. No matter what it is, I always seem to be somewhere in the equation.
I’m 19 now and this is my life. I please her in any way she sees fit. Her friends too. They aren’t as gentle as Sonya is, but at least they are nice in their own special way. The thing they all seem to like the most about me, is watching me try to drag their bedroom slippers to them. For some reason, they enjoy having me at their feet. I don’t know if it’s the fact they feel the power of life and death over me down there, or if it’s the fact they like feeling me down there. Anyways, my life is like a gigolo, only I don’t have any say-so over it.