A Comedy of AR's (Book 2)

Chapter 9
CHAPTER 209 .......... Amnesia (Part Three) Challenging Mommy

---

Chapter Description: 2 new pictures added 4/3/24 Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home

---

CHAPTER  209

“Derrek, when I want to get a point across for a behavior that doesn’t require a spanking, I use the tickle-pinch method.  First, I tickle your tummy.”

 

I tried to protect my abdomen, but with no success.

 

“Hee-hee, stop it!  Ah- ha ha hee hee, stop it!  Ahhhhhhhh he he!  Okay stop, please!”

 

“Then I give you a little pinch somewhere.  Hmm, let’s try the loose skin by the side of your bicep … and just give it a twist.”

 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!”

 

“Sorry, Derrek.  I can see you didn’t like that.  Did that pinch hurt more than a purple nurple?”

 

“Yes,” I admitted.

 

“Okay, good.  Now we can either do more rounds of tickle-pinch, or you can cooperate and do what you’re supposed to do.  It’s your choice.”

 

It was no choice at all and she knew it.  I looked down at the floor ashamed of my nudity and cried some more … and murmured, “I hate you so much, Mom.”

 

“But I love you, Derrek,” she came back.

 

“You don’t love me!” I screamed through more tears.

 

“Oh, but I very much do, Derrek.  And to prove it, I’m going to bathe you tonight in warm milk-water, since we can’t use real water.  I’ll go warm it up now.  You stand here and think about what you can do to be a good boy.”

 

“Bathe me?” I questioned.  “You mean molest me ……………….Mom.”  (There, I got in the ‘Mom’ part.)

 

I thought that the best thing I could do to be a good boy is to kill Sammantha.  But what could I do living in this ‘bizzaro’ world … It’s like a Twilight Zone episode.  None of this should be happening … not the amnesia, and not the age regression.

 

Standing in the corner, my boner was so hard, I thought about jacking off, since there was nothing else to do and I’d been stiff for such a long time.  I needed it.  I leaned over and checked between the doorways to make sure that Sammantha was still in the kitchen … and she was.  I could hear the liquids cooking on the stove.

 

I needed to do it fast.  If Sammantha caught me, I don’t know if she would be mad, but I would certainly be embarrassed.  But I knew I couldn’t shoot cum till I was thirteen, so there shouldn’t be a mess to clean up.  Still, it felt weird grabbing onto a child-sized penis, even if it was stretched out.

 

So I let my right hand do its thing, rubbing up and down really fast, and it didn’t take long to reach my climax.  It felt good and I tried to keep my voice down when I mumbled ‘with joy’ … “No!no!no!no!no!”

 

What the hell?  I did make a mess … a big sticky mess.  This wasn’t supposed to happen till I was thirteen.  Did she have my age wrong?

 

And there … standing in the doorway was Sammantha, holding a little cup.

 

“Did you enjoy masturbating, sweety?” she asked.

 

God, that so irritated me when she called me sweety … and I was so red-faced standing in the corner pretending that I didn’t have a big mess on my groin and on the wall.

 

“You can’t just leave your mess like that,” she scolded.  “You should have grabbed some tissues before you even started.  Haven’t you done this before?”

 

I gazed at the floor and mumbled, “Yes.”

 

Sammantha set the little cup down and grabbed a box of tissues from the night stand.  “Turn around, Derrek.  Face me … and put your hands down.  I’m just going to clean you up.”

 

My face couldn’t get any redder.  I’m sure it must be every boy’s dream to jack off and then have your mom clean the sticky mess off your penis … and she was pressing me and wiping me pretty hard all over my penis, scrotum, and pubis (the flat part where I was still bald, with no pubic hair.)

 

Tears began dripping out of my eyes again and I was already getting another errection from the sheer embarrassment.

 

My voice squeaked out, “Mom, are you going to punish me for jacking off?”

 

“Of course not, Derrek,” she assured.  “All boys masturbate, but next time, I want you to clean up your own mess, so I don’t have to do it.  Will you do that for me?”

 

I cried quietly, “Yes, Mom.”

 

“Okay, now I want you to hold your arms out in front, Derrek.”

 

“What for?”

 

“I want to show your something.  Come on.  Do as I ask without complaining all the time.”

 

I held out my arms towards her and I wondered if she was going to put hand cuffs on me.  But instead, she took her little cup and poured what looked like water, over each arm.

 

I shook my wet arms and asked, “What’s that for?”

 

“Derrek, part of regaining your memory is to re-familiarize youself with actions of your daily routine.  Now I carefully measured the water in the cup so that you would age-regress four years.  So in a few minutes, you’ll be an eight-year-old.”

 

“What?!” I called out with alarm.  “But Mom!  I don’t want to be eight years old!”

 

“Just tell me what you feel, sweety.”

 

“No!  I don’t want to do this!  You have no right to jerk me around like this!”

 

“Derrek, as long as you’re a child, I decide what’s right for you.”

 

“Aggghhh!  That’s exactly why I DON’T want to be a child … It’s squeezing me tight all over … It’s like when my foot falls asleep.  I have to sit down.  Everything is all ‘crackly’ inside me … like a thousand little pops.  I’m getting smaller.  My voice is higher.”

 

“Those are body contractions, sweety … And your penis is getting a lot smaller too.  Come over here, Derrek.  Look in your full length mirror.”

 

Sammantha picked me up by my wrists and held me in front of the mirror while my feet dangled in the air a few inches above the floor.  And I had a little tiny boner.

 

She noted, “Yep, I would say you look eight years old now.”

 

I started crying again, only with a higher pitched voice, more like a squeal.  I felt so small and helpless … a very little boy now.  When she set me down, I ran to the boy’s bed and buried my face in the pillow while I cried.  Sammantha put a stuffed bunny next to my head.

 

“Derrek, this is bunny rabbit.  He’s an emotional support bunny and he’s always been your best friend.  You should hold onto him.  It will make you feel better.”

 

“Agggghhhh!” I screamed again and threw the rabbit on the floor.

 

Sammantha picked it up and she sat on the bed next to me.  She talked softly into my ear.  “I’ll let that one go for now, sweety, but if it happens again, we’ll be back to ‘tickle-pinch’.  So why don’t you hold bunny rabbit under your arm now, okay?”

 

Of course I took the rabbit.  Her pinch was excruciatingly painful and not worth pissing her off.

 

“Good boy, Derrek.  Now I’ll go get the milk-water for your bath.”

 

I wish she’d go to hell.  I felt emasculated as a man.  My feelings meant nothing.  An eight-year-old is hardly even a person.  I was just a prisoner.

 

“I’m ready now, sweety,” she called from across the hall.  “Would you like to come into the bathroom, please?”

 

She said ‘please’?  To what do I owe the honor?  Everything in the apartment looked so big now.  I felt kind of clumsy at first, in my little body.  I even needed her help stepping into the tub … but the milk-water was a nice temperature and it felt good on my pummeled rear end.  Sammantha poured a bucket of it over my head and got to work using the shampoo.

 

Instinctively, I rubbed my penis and couldn’t believe how small it was.  I asked in my high pitched childish voice, “Mom, how long do I have to be eight years old?”

 

“Not long, sweety … if you behave.  That’s the good part of the water curse.  Tomorrow night you’ll be ten, and that’s a cute age for you.  Then Sunday night you’ll be back to twelve and ready to go to school Monday morning.”

 

“Do I really have to go to school?”

 

“Sweety, it’s the best thing you can do if you want to regain your memory.”

 

“What grade am I in?”

 

“Seventh.”

 

“Shit, that’s like the worst grade of all.  The kids are like wild animals.”

 

“Watch the language, mister.  At your age, that’s a no-no, and I don’t think you’d want to be disciplined for it.”

 

“Okay, but …”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Mom, can I please have a couple minutes where I can speak freely without getting punished?”

 

“Sure, sweety … Let’s hear it.”

 

“Well, I really hate you a lot.  I think you’re a terrible mother.  I think that you’re nothing more than a muscle-bound child molester.  I think that the only reason you’re roleplaying as my mom is so you can have total control over a naked little boy.”

 

“Is that all, Derrek?”

 

“No … I believe the water curse is real now, but I think you’ve been bull-shitting me all along by saying that the reason I can’t go back to being an adult is because some government black ops force is going to capture me and turn me into an experimental lab rat of sorts.”

 

“I’m dead serious about that, Derrek.  I’ve seen proof.”

 

“Yeah?  Well maybe I’d still rather be an adult lab rat talking to other adults than a twelve-year-old child sex slave forced to obey a perverted female doctor who gets her kicks spanking little boys.”

 

“I see.”

 

“And this amnesia really sucks.  I think you’re taking advantage of me because … as an adult, there is no way that I would have allowed you to talk me into wanting to become a child again even if I DID have a crummy job.  At least I was independent and didn’t need a pretend ‘mommy’ to take care of me and force me to obey her.”

 

“Derrek, when you came to our clinic, you were in bad shape.  You were lonely, depressed, and suicidal.  The water curse was affecting you in a lot of bad ways.  You kept having accidents with water.  You couldn’t hold a job.  And you couldn’t keep a girlfriend when they found out about your problem.  No girl wants to date a little boy … or for that matter, a baby boy.”

 

I sighed.  “I guess I can understand that.”

 

“Derrek, when you turned into a ten-year-old right before my eyes,  I was the only female in your life who did not abandon you.  And that’s the reason you agreed to reward me by roleplaying as my little boy.  Yes, you agreed to it, Derrek.”

 

“Well, what if I decided to end the agreement by grabbing a knife from the kitchen and stabbing you to death tonight while you sleep?”

 

 

---