Snow Days and More

Chapter 8
Part Eight

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Chapter Description: Long time since Part 7, I know. Warning, this one has some violence in it, Adult to Child.

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Mona was not a happy camper, and in a distant sort of way, I didn’t blame her. I had wet all over her leg, soaking her pants and the carpet as well. She stood over me, glaring down at me, making me tremble in fear. I was so afraid of what my step-mom was going to do to me. Beat me more? Kill me maybe? I had no idea.

"Nicky, I can’t believe you," she said after a long moment. "You tell me you’re a big boy, a mature-enough-to-stay-home-alone big boy, but look at what you did. Look at it!" To emphasize her point, she reached down and grabbed my neck with her skinny hand, dragging me forcibly over to the wet spot on the rub. Like I was nothing more than a dog, she rubbed my cheek into to the pee. "Big boys don’t do this, do they Nicky? Bad little boys do. Now I want you to go park that little face of yours in the corner, little boy, and don’t you dare move until Mommy Mona says that you can."

She let me go, and I angrily got to my feet. I had every intention of defying her, kicking her or something, and then use the phone to call my Mom. But she didn’t give me a chance. She slapped me again, like she had in the car, knocking me to my butt.

"I know you too well, Nicky," she sneered as I looked up at her, a small trickle of blood coming from my lip. "You think you can fight me? Huh? Now get to the damned corner, boy, and plant that nose in it. I need to go change, and make a few phone calls."

Not wanting to get hit anymore, I got up and ran over to the corner. She shoved me the last few feet, causing me to crash into the corner, and before I could turn to scream at her, she was on me again, crushing me into the corner with her weight. I felt the air whoosh out of me, and I felt like I was dying. I weakly struggled against her for a moment, until she let off of me. I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air like a landed fish.

Mona told me once more to get in the corner, and forced me to my feet. I was still winded, and leaned my body into the corner, using the wall to support me. She told me she would be back in a moment, and that if I had moved, I would regret it.

I heard her leave the room, and head up the stairs. I wanted so badly to run, but I didn’t want her to beat on me anymore. I had never really been beaten on before, and the experience wasn’t fun. I was afraid I’d try to run and Mona would find out, so something even worse than slap and hit me. So I stayed in the corner, nose pressed into it, crying so hard.

Mona came back to the den a moment later, telling me to follow her. I came off the wall, wiping my lip, which felt like it had ballooned to gigantic proportions, and followed her, down the steps to the cellar. I knew that was where the laundry room in Dad and Mona’s house was, and figured she was taking me there to have me put my wet pants and boxers in the washer. I was partially right.

Mona did tell me to strip, totally, something I balked at, but complied with after she raised her hand, as if to slap me again. I screamed at her to stop, that I’d obey. Once I was down to my boxers, she crossed her arms, and told me them too.

"After all, they got the most pee in them, you disgusting animal," she said. "Now get them off and into the washer, now!"

I was shaking and felt sick to my stomach as I slid them down, and tossed them into the washing machine. I covered my nudity with my hands, burning up with shame and shaking in fear. Mona glared at me for a long second, then reached down and grabbed my ear, pulling it hard, making me follow her across the cellar. I was shrieking in pain and stumbled as she dragged me. I really began fighting when I saw where she was heading.

Mona and Dad had had a dog until just recently, a large Leonberger named Sparks. Leonbergers, for those that haven’t seen the breed, are enormous animals. Like, gigantic. Sparks was abnormally large even for his breed, weighing just under 200 pounds. He was a super-friendly dog, though, and was one of the only reasons I tolerated coming to the house to visit Dad.

Mona and Dad hadn’t gotten rid of Sparks’ cage when he died, however. They simply moved it from the backyard to the cellar, and that was where Mona was dragging me. She held my ear with one hand, hard, and used the other to open the cage door. She thrust me into the cage, pushing me all the way to the back of it, and slammed the cage door closed before I could get back to it. She had it locked and stepped back as I raged and screamed at her from inside. I slammed my hands against the chain-link sides of the cage, kicked my feet at the door, stubbing my toe badly in the process. I fell to the floor, screaming now in anger and pain. I looked up at my step-mom, and she smiled thinly.

"Nicky, I put you in there for a reason. Punishment. You acted like a damned dog, so I’ll treat you like a damned dog. I’ll let you out when your clothes are done. Until then...relax, curl up, sleep, whatever. I’m going to go upstairs and make my phone calls. Got it?"

"DON’T LEAVE ME DOWN HERE!!!" I screamed as she turned, and walked towards the stairs. She didn’t respond, however, just went up the steps, and worse, flipped off the light at the top, plunging me into a cold, dark cellar. I painfully got to my feet and went berserk on the cage, shaking it hard, trying to get out. But the cage was too well built for that, and I slumped to the plastic flooring of the large kennel, pulling my knees to my chest, and cried myself, to sleep actually.

I was woke up when Mona snapped on the light in the cellar and came down the steps. She went over to the washer, and put the now clean clothes into the dryer, and then came over to me.

"Nicky, I spoke to a friend. She thinks I was very cruel to put you in Sparks’ kennel. She also thinks you were very rude and inconsiderate to me, both by cursing at me in my car, and then by peeing on me. She brought something over for me, something that will allow me to release you from there. You going to behave Mommy Mona?"

"Yes, please, just let me out of here," I pleaded. "I’ll listen to you." I didn’t have much of a choice. Well, I did. Listen to her, and she’d let me out of the kennel, or defy her and stay in it. I couldn’t run away if I was in there. I couldn’t anyway, not with my clothes just in the dryer. I had to wait.

She reached down and unlocked the cage, and told me to crawl out. As in, on my hands and knees. I didn’t argue, just moved from the cage to the cold hard cement floor of the cellar. Once there, she prodded me with her foot, tapping my butt lightly, telling me to crawl to the stairs. Once there, she reached down, and lifted me up, carrying me like I hated, on her hip, up the steps, and then put me back on the floor at the top. I saw on the clock in the kitchen, which was the room the stairs came out into, that the time was 1:40. Mom had told me she was leaving the city at 2:30 or so, had to run to Morristown, forty minutes from the city, and then come get me. That meant, by my estimation, Mom would be here at about 3:45 or so. Two full hours.

Mona urged me along, telling me to crawl to the den...excuse me, the front sitting room...and to hurry along about it. I resumed my hands-and-knees trek along the tile floor in the kitchen, then across the wood floor of the dining room and onto the plush carpeting of the front sitting room. I stopped there, unsure what Mona wanted of me next.

"Okay, little Nicky," she said, sitting on the couch. "Lay down, now, on your back. Mommy Mona’s friend brought me some...supplies. I bet you know what they are, don’t you?"

I did. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Lay down, and on my back? That, I knew, was a diaper position. Proving that thought correct, Mona lifted a plastic bag off the couch, the blue and green markings of a Pampers package sticking out the top. I hadn’t seen it at first, since the seat of the couch was out of my line-of-sight, on my hands and knees like I was. I shook my head, looking up at her, but she tapped her foot.

"Nicky, either turn over and lay still for Mommy Mona, or you’ll be back in Sparks’ kennel. Do I make myself understood, little boy?"

"Please, Mona, I don’t want to wear..." I was cut off with her upraised hand, poised as if to slap me again.

"First of all, I don’t care what you want, Nicky. You went pee in your pants like a baby. Babies wear diapers. So will you. Second of all, the next time you call me Mona, I’ll spank you again. From now on, it’s Mommy Mona. Clear?"

"No! You’re not my Mommy!" I bellowed. I didn’t care if I got slapped for it. I wasn’t calling her Mommy. Not now, not ever. "Let me call my real Mom, Mona, and I...I won’t tell her you hit me. Please, let me call Mom!"

"Mommy is busy, Nicky, remember? And she’s all the way in the city, too? You think she can get here to save you before I blister your behind? Hmm? Now, last warning, little boy. On your back."

I slumped back, and tried to scuttle my way away from her, crawling backwards, kind of, but she was on me. She reached down and took my arms in her hands and forcibly pulled me back to her, giving me wicked rug burns on my knees. I screamed in pain as she did that, and turned around, trying to twist away from her. I actually got one arm free, but she kept grip on the other one, and pulled me across the floor to the edge of the couch. She flipped me over, so I was on my back, and slapped my face again. Not as hard as she had done earlier, but enough to break open the lip she had split before. I felt blood trickling down into my mouth, which I sputtered out, spraying it all over Mona and the carpet, not caring anymore. I was going to fight to the death if I had to.

Mona, however, was tired of the struggle, I suppose, and punched me. Closed fist punched me, in the stomach. It forced all the air from my lungs, her blow landing right on my solar plexus. I had never felt pain such as that before, and it rendered me unable to even move. All I could do was lay there, feeling like I was dying, and flap my mouth open and closed in an attempt to get air into me.

Mona took advantage of my condition. She spread my legs wide, and knelt between them. She had the shopping bag beside her, and pulled the package of diapers out of it. I saw, through my tear-blurry eyes, that the diapers were Pampers Size 7. She ripped the bag open, and took out one of the extra-extra large diapers. I plainly saw that they had Elmo on the front. She opened the diaper up, and forced my legs into the air. I tried to squirm away, but she held my legs tight and slid the diaper under me. I was forced back down onto it, and she completed the diapering. She brought the front up over me, and in a distant way, I was glad for it. I wasn’t naked in front of her any longer. The tapes were applied to either side, finishing off her task.

"Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it, little boy," she asked, her voice the kind someone uses on a three-year-old. I wanted to scream at her, but I was just starting to get my wind back, each intake of breath painful. "My friend brought me some clothes too, for you to wear. Since your’s are in the wash. Let’s get baby dressed, okay?"

She reached behind her on the couch, and pulled down a second bag, and began taking the clothes out. I was pleased, somewhat, to see that they weren’t baby clothes. They were more juvenile than the kind I wore, but weren’t babyish. Mona explained to me that her friend had a five-year-old son, and that the clothes were his. She sat me up, a warning in her eye to not resist, and pulled the long-sleeved t-shirt on me. The front had a picture of Diego on it, and looked like something a five-year-old would love. I didn’t like it, of course, but I guess it was better than being freezing cold and naked.

Once they were on, she gently pushed me back, so that I was laying prone again, and took out a pair of denim overalls. They were light blue denim, but looked funny. They had darker blue pinstripes all up and down them. Like the old railroad engineer’s baseball hat I used to have a long time ago, I realized. Mona slid the legs onto me, then sat me up again and fastened the straps over my shoulders. Like the shirt, I was sort of happy for them, since they covered the thick diaper I had on.

She then put blue dress-type socks on my feet, and finished my new outfit off with a pair of Velcro-closure sneakers. Like the shirt, they had Diego on them, and looked super little-kiddy.

"All dressed," Mona said, that same tone in her voice she had used after the diaper was on. "And now if you need to potty, you won’t go in your pants. Well, you will, but your diapee will make sure you don’t get everything all wetsie."

"P-please, Mon...I mean, M-Mommy Mona," I stuttered. "Please! I’m n-not a b-baby. I d-don’t need d-d-diapers."

"You most certainly do too," she countered. "You proved that to me, little boy. Now, I have one last thing to do here..."

I watched as she took a small bottle of Super Glue, and holding my hands out of the way, dropped some onto each of the buckles for the overalls. It dried rapidly, like Super Glue does.

"That’s so you don’t try and be naughty and take them off, baby," she explained. "Now, I bet little Nicky is hungry? Is you hungry?"

"No," I answered honestly. "I feel sick to my stomach, Mommy Mona." Sick from the diapers, the little-kiddy clothes, the punch to my belly, having to call this evil witch Mommy Mona, all of it.

"Your call, baby," she said. "I’m going to go make me some food then. I’ll leave you in here. I’ll put the TV on for you. Oh, and don’t think you can get away, little baby. Your Mommy asked me to watch you. I intend to do just that. If you try to run away, Mommy Mona will put you in the kennel again. Do you want that?"

I shook my head, and just stayed laying there as she got up and walked over to the TV. She snapped it on, then changed the channel to Sprout, the little kids TV channel. Barney the Dinosaur was just starting, and Mona squealed.

"Oooh, look, Nicky, it’s Barney! Come over here and watch it," she said. When I didn’t make a move, she came over to me, and lifted me up again. She carried me across the room, and sat me down, on my butt, in front of the TV and the dumb baby show. "When Mommy Mona tells you to do something, little boy, you do it. Now, watch this show, and I’ll be back in a minute."

I waited for her to leave the room, and spun on the carpet, facing away from the TV, and lowered my head to the carpet. I covered my head with my arms, hating the way the overalls and the diaper felt, but not knowing what to do about it.

Mona returned, as she said she would, a few minutes later, and told me to face the TV. I spun and did, but kept my eyes closed. Mona told me quietly, from a distance of maybe a foot, to open them. I did, and saw her leaning over me, looking angry.

"I told you to watch Barney, little Nicky. I meant it. If baby is too tired, maybe he should take his nap then. And since I don’t have a crib here, that would mean naptime is in the kennel. Do you want that?"

"NO!" I shouted. "MOVE AND I’LL WATCH THE DAMN SHOW!!!" Bad move. Mona slapped me once again, the hardest she had done so yet, knocking me sideways to the floor. I grazed my head on the leg of a small table that was to my right on the way down, and it knocked me partially out. I was unable to stop her from picking me up, and carrying me to the kitchen, and down the steps to the cellar, but I began to as we got to the bottom. I was kicking my legs back and forth, punching at her, all in vain. She didn’t carry me to the cage, however. She carried me over to the workbench where my Dad did his woodworking. Holding me with one arm, ignoring my attempt to get free, she grabbed two of those plastic zip ties. You know the kind. Police use them when they run out of real handcuffs. It was a long strip of plastic, little teeth all down the edge, and a small square tab at the end. She put me on the ground, face down, and despite my screaming and struggling, she pulled my arms behind me and deftly wrapped the plastic tie around my wrists, zipping it closed tightly. The other tie was then put on my ankles, trapping my legs together. She then got a roll of duct tape from the table, and after flipping me over onto my back, causing me so much pain from my arms I almost blacked out, she placed a strip of the silver tape over my lips, muffling my screams.

"Now, I told you, I don’t think little boys, especially baby boys, should speak like adults to an adult. It’s rude to curse. And rude to yell at Mommy Mona. Maybe a little timeout in the backyard will cool you off, hmm?"

"MMMMMPPH!!!" What I was trying to say was NOOOOO, but of course, I was gagged. She lifted me over her shoulder, and carried me like a sack of potatoes up the small steps that led to the trapdoor which in turn led to the backyard. She couldn’t mean to take me outside, could she? It was so cold out. Then I remembered she had slapped me so many times, punched me, ground my face into my own pee like a dog, locked me naked in a dog cage, forced me to dress in babyish clothes, and now, tied me up and taped my mouth shut. Of course she meant to take me outside.

I figured I would freeze to death, and strangely, didn’t care so much. If I died, Mona wouldn’t hurt me anymore. I saw no way out of my situation. So I was strangely limp as she pushed the trapdoor open, the cold blast of wind making me shiver but nothing more than that. I was carried out of the door, and into the January frost. I was laid on the ground near a large tree in the yard, and told to sit there. Like I could do anything else.

"I’ll come for you in an hour...or two," Mona said, standing up and looking down at me. "When I come back, you’ll apologize to me for your rudeness, and you’d better sound as if you mean it. You’ll also beg me to wash your potty mouth out. Nod if you understand me."

I wasn’t going to say a word (not that I could), or make any motion that would indicate I agreed with her. Or disagreed with her. I had every idea of just laying there, on the cold ground. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I saw movement. I looked over, and saw an angel. A savior angel. Okay, it wasn’t an angel, but it was a savior. Mona hadn’t realized we had company in the yard, so I looked back at her as she asked again if I understood her, and shook my head no.

"No? No? You don’t understand that you are to tell me your sorry for using potty words to me? Or that you’re to beg me for a mouth soaping? Which is it?"

"MMMPH MMPH!" I shouted into the tape, meaning to say F*** YOU!. Even without the words, Mona knew what I meant, and leaned over, her arm poised as if to slap me once more. Only, just as she went to bring her arm down, my Mom grabbed it, and stopped her.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" Mom yelled at Mona, shoving her to the ground, away from me. Mona struggled to her feet, and Mom, being the coolest Mom ever, pushed her down again. She took up a spot between Mona and I, and looked back at me, seeing the relief and joy in my eyes that she was there. She turned back to my step-mom, and asked again.

"He...we were...playing, just goofing off...we were playing is all," Mona said, getting back to her feet.

"Really? Goofing off? Nick is a goofball sometimes, sure. But it’s 20? out here, Mona. Even he’s not goofy enough to want to play outside in this. And it doesn’t explain why the hell he’s tied up. Or has tape on his face. And where did those clothes come from?"

"I swear, Beth, it’s a game. I mean, I tried to tell him no, you know, but he insisted we play cops and robbers, and he’s the robber."

"Really?" Mom said, sarcastically. "Well, let’s ask him." She turned, and gently, gingerly removed the duct tape from my lips. I winced as the tape stuck a little, and really yelped when she pulled it from my split lip. Mom saw the lip at once. "Nick, are you okay doober?"

"No, Mom, she’s lying," I said to Mom, crying again. "She spanked me and I wet my pants during it and she made me go into Sparks’ cage naked and then made me wear a diaper a real diaper and these baby clothes and she slapped me and punched me in the belly and then she tied me up and said I was gonna be out here for two hours to cool off and then you came."

It had all come out in a rush. I was sobbing by the end of it, and Mom lifted me into her arms, holding me as best she could with my arms and legs still tied. She turned to Mona, who was flapping her arms like a little bird, trying to come up with a way to explain it all. Mom brushed past her, and carried me into the house, shushing me as she sat me on a kitchen chair. She used a sharp knife to carefully cut the plastic ties off me, and as soon as I was free, I fairly jumped into her arms, holding on for life.

Mona had come inside by then, looking remorseful as hell. She sat at the table, and vainly tried to apologize to Mom and me. Mom listened to it all, and then after looking at me, and seeing I wasn’t about to forgive her, she pulled her cell phone out. She was calling the police, she said. I was so glad for that too, and loved the look of fear and panic in Mona’s eyes. Maybe she would know how I’d felt all afternoon.

Just as Mom was hanging up the phone, having explained to the 9-1-1 operator the situation, I felt the need to pee. I told Mom, and she told me to go to the small bathroom off the front hall. I told her about the buckles on the overalls, how Mona had glued them closed. Mom told me to hold still, and using the same knife she had freed me with, cut through the straps, making the overalls sag. I ran as fast as the diaper and sagging overalls would allow to the bathroom, but not in time, as I flooded the diaper with pee just as I shut the door. Once I was done, two emotions flooded me. One, shame that I had again wet my pants that day alone, and two...as strange as this sounds, pleasure. It had felt kind of good to let go in the diaper. Nostalgic, almost. An odd feeling, I knew, but there it was.

I stood in the bathroom for a moment, then turned and headed back to the kitchen, where Mom was watching over Mona (I had heard the words ’citizens arrest’ on my way to the bathroom), and Mona was sitting at the table crying. Mom looked up, and smiled warmly at me. I smiled back, but not as warm, kind of thinly. She got a look of curiosity on her face then.

"You weren’t gone long, doober," Mom said.

"I, uh, didn’t make it, Mom, I wet the diaper," I said back. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Nick," Mom said. "Why don’t you go get your clothes, and get changed. The police will be here soon...on second thought, Nick? Leave those on. Okay?"

I nodded, turning back from the cellar door. Mom wanted the cops to see what Mona had done to me in all it’s glory, I suppose.

The first officer arrived three minutes later, and after hearing a preliminary version of the story, called for backup. Two more cops showed up a moment later, and I again got to tell them what Mona had done to me. I left nothing out, even telling them what I had done, cursing at her and all.

"Nick, normally, I’d scold a kid for using bad words," said the first cop who had come. "In this case...I’ll let it slide. Just don’t make a habit of it, okay?" I nodded, and then the cops spoke to Mom for a moment. I was sitting in the sitting room, Mom was in the hall, and Mona was still in the kitchen, another cop talking to her. Mom came over to me after a moment, and told me it would be okay now. I heard Mona let out a mournful sob just then, and heard the distinctive ratchet sound of handcuffs. A second later, two of the cops led Mona past us, to the front door, her hands bound behind her, tears streaming down her cheeks.

An ambulance had arrived at some point too, and the EMT guy wanted me to go to the hospital. Legally, he could make me go if he wanted to, but he deferred to Mom on it. Mom urged me to go as well, just to make sure I was fine. Only because Mom asked me did I not put up a fight about it, my only request that I be allowed to change back to my own clothes, which were in the dryer and done.

Mom carried me out to the ambulance after I was changed, the baby clothes and diaper bagged for the police (why they wanted it, I don’t know. Evidence, maybe?). The ride to the hospital was kind of cool, I guess, the driver and the other EMT guy joking with me, and even using the siren, even though they didn’t have to.

At the ER, I was checked out, given a mild painkiller for my split lip and small bump on my head (from the table leg). I was there for almost three hours, though, and just wanted to go home. Mom kept her promise of Wendy’s on the way there, and even though I wasn’t real hungry, I did get a burger and a Frosty.

Mom explained to me as we ate, at home, what was going to happen with Mona. She was being charged with child abuse, assault and battery, child neglect, and the police were even considering a sexual abuse charge, for making me be naked. I hoped so. Mom warned me that I would have to talk in court at some point, tell the judge what she had done to me, but I was cool with that. I didn’t care.

After we had eaten, I went to my room, and changed. I was tired, real tired, and put on clean GoodNites and my pajamas. I curled up on the couch with Mom to watch some TV, and fell asleep there on her recliner, cuddled up with her on one side and Mr. Wumpus on the other, and my thumb squarely in my mouth. I was only vaguely aware of Mom pulling that out and replacing it with the pacifier, and was sound asleep not too long after that, ending the longest hardest day of my life.

To Be Continued

Authors Note: Sorry this took so long to get out. Been thinking about how to do it in a way that doesn’t eff me up like Part Seven did. I don’t need my little girl worried anymore, like I said after that part. No more of the abuse, though. From here on, I think it’ll be a happier story. I hope to have Part Nine out soon, depending on schedules and family stuff (my daughter is playing Sally in her kindergarten/first grade production of ’It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown’ ^^) I have also been tabbed by the other parents of the two grades to help design the set. That’s going to kind of tie me up for a week. Wish me luck lol. See you all again in Part Nine.

 

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