Tears soaked my shirt as I begged the officer, who had me in handcuffs attached to a leather strap like some sort of hand leash. My words fell to dead ears as the officer ignored my cries and pleas, guiding me--by force-- to the front door of my mother's home.
Even telling the officer that I feared, "She'll kill me!" in such genuine sobs didn't work. This officer didn't care.
The doorbell swelled up the knot of fear in my throat; my body finding no place to put it as my tears reached their maximum level of water pressure.
"No!" I wept, and screamed, "No!" with nobody around these delightful suburbs to save me, "Please! Officer you have to believe me! Officer-"
"Julie!" my mother sung as she answered the door.
"Hey, Monica," officer Julie responded, still not acknowledging my weeping. Clearly, this cop was in on it. I wondered if she sat out front of our house on purpose.
I watched as the leather strap at my hands left Julie's control, and entered my mother's. The horror of a simple handing off from one to another. I truly didn't feel like I belonged to me anymore. I felt like a pet... like an object.
"I'll swing by for the cuffs when you're done with 'em," Julie added as she handed the key off to my mother, "Just text me."
No doubt, their casual demeanor confirmed my theory that Julie was in on this demise. It made me fear who else might be.
"Thanks, Julie!" my mother waved as Julie returned to her car.
Oddly enough, the scariest part was that my mother didn't scream, she didn't hit me. She just shrunk me down, still cuffed and leashed by hand.
Her mighty high heel popped off, and her bare foot kicked it onto its side. She then commanded me to, "Get in."
Any attempts at speaking up were useless, especially at the miniscule fraction of a centimeter she left me at. Tears of grief evolved from tears of acceptance as I crawled into the shoe. My mother's behemoth foot, red and clammy with sweat and a day of work, loomed over head, inching closer to the opening and taking any light away from me.
I wept, and murmured, begging her from where I curled, "Mommy..."
The outside world became no more to me. My world now resided within my mother's fragrant shoe. She shifted me to the tip of her heel, and shrunk me further so I could fit into the tip without being smushed.
With my hands still cuffed together, I scrawled forward. Her toes were like houses to me. I kissed them in hope of expressing my regret for what I did. I licked them in hopes of getting her attention. I truly felt like I worshipped this woman.
A car engine instilled deeper fear into me. Where were we going? What's going to happen to me? I can't die in this shrunken state, so scenarios worse than death popped in and out of my head.
Mom's heel popped out of her shoe, sending a wave of refreshing, cool air onto me. She tipped my means of transport over and directed me to, "Crawl out."
When my eyes adjusted, and my size returned to normal-- leash in mother's hand-- I realized we were at, "Aunt Paige's house?"
Mother didn't acknowledge my question, and made me be the one to, "Ring the bell," on the door.
Looking at my mother wondering how serious she was, I realized this was another one of her means of manipulating me to put myself into these situations. My shaky, cuffed hands approached the doorbell, and pressed the button, letting loose a heart dropping 'Ding,' and throat tying, "Dong,' into a knot that filled down to my stomach.
Aunt Paige answered the door, "Monica!" she said, sounding surprised, "I didn't expect you to visit this..." Paige noticed the cuffs and the leash in mother's hand, "... soon... Oh..." she realized what this was about, and revealed to me that this would be the plan if a more severe punishment was needed.
"Well that was fast," aunt Paige said directly to me, "I honestly thought we'd have to resort to this at the end of the month," in reference to me hypothetically failing another drug test. "Please," she turned her attention to my mother, "come in."
Mother yanked the leash to guide me in. I fought back, fearing whatever the hell was to come. My footing slid against the concrete, causing me to trip on the step into aunt Paige's mini mansion of a home.
I begged and pleaded with them, "No, no, no, no, please!" as mother dragged me through the home, "Mommy! Aunt Paige, please!" The wood floor left burns on my body as my mom didn't give me a chance to catch my footing until we reached the basement stairs.
"What's going on?!" I asked, begging for answers, "Please, where are we going?!"
"My god," aunt Paiged complained, "he does NOT stop talking, does he?"
"Well he was doing really well for a while there," my mother explained as her and my aunt led me down the stairs to the basement. "All I heard from him was 'Yes, mommy,' and 'Thank you, mommy,' for the most part." We reached the bottom of the steps, and turned the corner into the dark room. "I thought we were actually making progress."
"Well if you didn't make progress " aunt Paige put her finger on the lightswitch of the pitch black room, "you made your point." She turned the lights of the basement on, "NOW, we'll make some progress."
I'd never been in this room of my aunt's home before. Hell, it'd been years since I've been here. My cousin Victoria never wanted to play down here when we were little, because she said she didn't like it, but now I'm confused as to why a little girl wouldn't like it down here.
Pink, satin, tufted upholstery kept the walls of this room soundproof. An array of mirrors set up to see all angles of a body made a 'U' around a lit up pedestal, placed between a massive vanity, and a spinning display of over-the-top girly dresses.
"Ohhh my god..." I feared, "What is this?"
"Well," aunt Paige started, "you remember your cousin Victor, right?"
My mouth quivered, wide open in disbelief, "You don't mean..."
"Victoria?" Paige filed in, "Yeah. She wasn't born a Victoria," she explained in a terrifying, devious laugh.
My mother yanked me close to her, and whispered in my ear from behind me, "You really, REALLY should have just obeyed me son."
"I'm-" I was so frightened right now, "I'm sorry, mommy!" I dropped to my knees and began kissing her feet, "I'll do anything you say from here on out! I'll stay in chastity! Please, mommy! Please, don't make her turn me into a girl!"
"See, Monica," Paige said, "I told you he'd be kissing your feet if you brought him to auntie for some discipline," my captors laughed, "Didn't I? Didn't I say exactly that?"
Mother added, "You did, oh my gosh," wiping tears of hilarity from her eyes. She crouched down, not to my level though, still looming above me as she said, "You don't want aunt Paige to teach you how to be a good little sissy maid?"
I shook my head, no, and went back to kissing her feet, as I never stopped.
"Well that's not up to me, now," mother said as she handed my key off to aunt Paige, and the leash stemming from my handcuffs.
Aunt Paige smiled eagerly as the silver chain that held the key to my chastity lightly jingled as it came to a rest in her palm, and disappeared as her fingers covered it. "I'm excited to spend some time together, little neic- ope!- I mean little nephew." Paige grabbed the back of my head with the hand that held the chastity key. I felt so close, yet so far away. "It's been so long since I've had a doll to dress up and train." She let the key slide over my head and across my face to tease me.
I had to ask, in fear for my future; "W-what happened to V-V-Victoria?"
"Your cousin?" Paige began, "Well, she fetched a very pretty penny when she disobeyed me," my heart sunk at the thought of being sold, "Family members make more money," she winked, triggering me to cry further. "I haven't talked to Victoria in years..." she only filled me with fear more and more as she thought to herself, "Last I checked she was working in a sorority on the west coast." (Not that it matters any time but now, but the west coast is opposite from the coast I live near). "Poor girl had it in her head that she was still a boy, and had all these silly thoughts about a 'future,'" she used air quotes here, "so I gave her one to look forward to."
I looked around the room in disbelief. It was like some demented Barbie dream closet. "All of this for Victor?"
The ladies laughed, "No son," mother began, "Auntie Paige has a long history of training little boys like you to become prissy little maids."
"It's true," Paige added, "mothers who wanted a daughter, or who have a disobedient son, or who never wanted a child, send them my way for reconditioning." I felt as if I heard the gears whirring in my aunt's head.
My breath felt careful, like I wasn't allowed to comfortably breathe. I dropped my face to the ground in defeat at the power these women held over me, begging, "I'm sorry... I'll do anything you want," I planted kisses on both their feet, "Just please don't sell me... Please don't make me a girl... I'll stay here and be your servant forever and ever, mommy..."
A fate worse than dread overtook me as I pleaded with her. Here I was; bowing down to my aunt and mother, begging to be their slave in hopes that I don't get sold away to some stranger who might truly hurt me.
"Head up, Caleb," mother insisted, to which I obliged, "and take your punishment."
I was yanked to my feet, and my cuffs were undone. Aunt Paige stood by the step below the array of mirrors to welcome me in, as mother pushed me closer from behind.
"Am-am..." my footsteps stopped fighting her, but my reluctance kept me hesitant, "Am I gonna be able to dress like a boy again after if I pass another drug test?"
I tripped, but caught my footing as my mom forced me onto the pedestal. "Maybe," she answered, "Only if you're really, REALLY good from here on out."
I regret to say that I trusted her in that moment. Because this entire scenario felt insane to me.