'Perfect' Dave had called me as he gazed upon my recumbent, adolescent form. That certainly stirred some memories.
I hadn't seen myself going into business as a kid. I hadn't seen myself going into anything. I had been born into a pit of despair, a poverty trap of a small town in the endless ochre expanse of the southwest. The ruined hulk of an obsolescent factory dominated the skyline, it's carcass a monument to the crushed dreams of it’s forlorn populace.
Dad was laid off when the factory went bust and died of a drug overdose shortly after I was born. Mom started hitting the bottle to help her cope with being a single parent and a widow with no reliable source of income. Somehow she managed to scrape together enough each month for the essentials but anything beyond that went on booze and more booze.
She blamed me for his death, said he couldn't take the pressure of being a parent and that he used to shoot up to take the edge off, and that's what she said when she was sober and able to appreciate how shitty her life had become. She was actually nicer when she was drunk, half passed out on our ratty sofa, watching some trash talk show on the beat up black and white television in the corner. Sometimes she’d smile at me, or toss me a rare sweet she’d secreted away. More often something I said or did, or even didn’t say or didn’t do, would tip her into a violent, aggressive rage. When I was smaller she just put me up against the wall and thrashed me. When I was bigger I just ran away till she calmed down and forgot what made her angry. F
Finally, I just began wandering the streets of my forgotten, backwoods, run down town. I wasn’t alone either, you either encountered the packs of feral dogs or the packs of feral kids wandering the place, only difference being the state cared more for the dogs given the frequent appearances of Animal control. We were just left to our own devices for the most part.
Unfortunately for me, about the only thing circumstances had given me was a winning genetic lottery ticket. I wasn't just a cute kid, I was ethereal. Perfectly clear skin, emerald green eyes, little pointed face, rosebud lips and platinum blond hair. When Daddy had turned me into a ten year old, he hadn't needed to do much to feminize me. And it was unfortunate the first time around, when I was really ten, because in a poor, backwards town where the kids are left to roam wild, boys who look like girls become targets, particularly those on the short side as I was. I became ‘the faggy kid’ and the other boys let me know me it with their names, their taunts and more often than not their fists and boots.
I begged my Mom for haircuts regularly, even a few inches of golden locks was enough to dent my appearance as a boy. She just cussed me out though, a haircut was a luxury I didn’t need. She didn’t care for my explanations either that it helped make me a target, she just laughed at me with an open bottle of bourbon in one hand a lit cigarette in the other and said I needed to man up. In hindsight, I think that’s when I began to hate her. But for perhaps the only time in my life, I took her advice.
By the time a year had passed I was a wiry little pugilist with a reputation. The other kids didn’t seek me out to torment, they actively began avoiding me, particularly after I punched one of my worst bullies so hard he lost two of his front teeth. They didn’t call me the faggy kid anymore, they called me the crazy freak.
I didn’t have friends of course. When I was the victim, nobody wanted to associate with me for fear of becoming a target themselves. And when I fought back, everyone became too frightened of me to interact. It crushed me inside. I had thought that by being even more mean and even more vicious than those other kids, the one who called me names and beat me up, that I’d be able to have some friends at last. But nobody came. Everyone seemed to have their own pack, except me.
But one day, my destiny changed.
I saw a fancy car town pull into our town, a big SUV with tinted windows that rumbled up the dusty street past the shuttered shops before it pulled into the town’s only petrol station. The driver stepped out of her air conditioned vehicle into the warm, dry air of the town, a tall African-American woman with long black hair and a stylish navy suit. I was watching her from where I was loitering, in the shade of an building across the street, smoking a cigarette I’d stolen from my Mother earlier that morning. The woman looked around at her surroundings, nose crinkling a little in faint contempt, before she popped on a pair of sunglasses and walked into the small convenience store adjacent to the pumps. Ernest, the big and dumb attendant, shambled out to beginning filling the car with fuel whilst the woman began looking through the meagre offerings the store contained. She was distracted in other words, and I knew Ernest was an idiot, and I thought I would try my luck. I crossed the road till I got to the driver side door. Ernest was on the other side clumsily inserting the pump into the car. He had earphones in, probably listening to that K-pop crap he liked, after all, the last ipod I stole from him was full of it.
I tried the handle of the passenger-side door and it popped open. I grinned, this was too easy. I opened the door just enough that I could slip part of my body through, and this was where being a small, skinny kid came in handy, and I opened the glove compartment. I quickly put my hand in, rummaged around and scored a jackpot. She had left her phone in her glove compartment and if it was anything like her car it was a fancy one too.
I grabbed it and it was then I felt a crushing pressure on my back, that caused me to scream. Ernest was startled, he took out his headphones and I could see him through the driver side window. It took me a moment to realise he was shouting at the driver who, after returning from the store with a box of candy and seeing what I was up to, had placed her foot against the ajar passenger side door and was now squeezing me like a grape.
That was how I met Melissa, the woman who saved me.
When she at last relented and released her pressure on the door, my first instinct was to wriggle back out and attempt to run for it. But I didn’t get very far as she stuck her foot out in front of me, causing me to trip and fall onto the concrete asphalt of the forecourt. I managed to break my fall with her phone though. When she heard the crunch of the device under my weight, that’s when she really flipped out. She reached out with her hand, each longer finger crowned by a talon like nail, and she grabbed me by my golden hair to yank me back to my feet. I screamed of course, I was only eleven, but she shoved me up against her car. I looked up into that face, getting a good look at her, and for the first time in my life I felt I had met someone who I definitely should not have crossed. Not my mother, not the bullies whom I had terrified into submission, not the adults who futilely shook their fists at me or cursed me out, none of them had the look Melissa was giving me now.
But little did I know, just as was sizing her up, she was sizing me up too.
What she saw was two things. The first was my astonishing beauty, and the second (as she told me later) was the boatload of cash I could make for her and for her superiors. And due to my actions, I was completely at her mercy.
She insisted on speaking to my parents or the police but left the choice up to me. Knowing that my drunk mother was less of a threat, I obviously said my mother. Ernest tried to warn her of course, telling her that the devil child’s mother was a do nothing alcoholic and that they should just call the police, but Melissa told him to shut up and let her deal with this. I thought I’d had an escape, that my Mother would see her as too much bother to deal with and get rid of her, that Melissa would leave the town swearing never to return, and I could happily return to my own devices.
I was of course, wrong.
Melissa absolutely dominated my mother when they met. Melissa tended to dominate everyone she met. Turns Melissa was a talent scout with a modelling agency who had simply been in the right place at the right time. To her, I was a little punk BUT I was a gorgeous little punk she could exploit. She wanted to sign me up and she got my mother to agree which wasn’t difficult, Melissa indicated there was money involved. I tried protesting, but Melissa told me that if I didn’t do this, she would bring charges against me for burglary and destruction of property and that she would, in any other way she could think of, make my little life a hell for as long as she could.
From the age of eleven to seventeen, my life was no longer my own. Melissa became an omnipresent factor in my life. After my Mother signed me up, she found a small house for us in Los Angeles which her firm paid for. And which was very, very close to her own property. Unlike my Mother who was content to enjoy the relative high life my new career afforded her, Melissa took a keen interest in my life. She ensured I was sent to a school that effectively dealt with my discipline problems and channelled it towards a rampant need to compete and win. In the right environment, I flourished. I was smart as well as gorgeous and I not only rapidly made up the group I had lost from neglecting school, I began excelling in multiple subjects. I made friends. Positive milestone after positive milestone was marked, and Melissa was always there to celebrate it with me.
And I in turn repaid her, my modelling career dominated my adolescence and just as I excelled in middle school, so my beauty began dominating the world of photoshoots. I enjoyed the attention and the minor celebrity that came with it. I loved teasing the middle aged men and women I worked with with the sight of my flesh, marking out those who were almost painfully aroused by it and subtly tormenting them even more. Melissa shielded me from the perverts who were seemingly everywhere in the business, their desire for me didn’t match their fear of her and the first person I ended up fucking was my first girlfriend in high school.
Melissa died of cancer when I was eighteen. She had helped me emancipate myself from my mother two years before and I had enjoyed seeing the old witch banished back to the small town we came from, cut off from the wealth I had earned. For that alone I was grateful.
I sat by Melissa's deathbed in the hospital watching her take ragged breath after ragged breath. She had no other family, I guess I was the closest thing she had. Not a surrogate child, I never took her to be that sentimental, but I was her living legacy. I never begrudged that. She told me I could do anything I wanted, not the bullshit they feed kids in cartoons, but that I could genuinely do ANYTHING. I had the looks to keep modelling, I had the brains to study whatever I wished and since my growth spurt had belatedly hit, I could even try my hand at the world of sport. She said she knew I’d do well, and that I would make my mark on the world and she smiled and then slipped away. It was the worst day of my life.
That is, it was the worst day of my life. Losing Melissa had been bad enough, but losing myself? Losing all that achievement in a few hours to become trapped in my thirteen and a half year old body? The loss was unquantifiable.
Inside, at the very core, I was still me, but I felt different in my mind as well as my body. I had to assume that a thirteen year old body was going to have something like a thirteen year old mind too.
I was no longer an adult. I would never be an adult again. Everything I had accomplished had been taken away by the one man in my life who had proven, time and again, that he was better than me.
Dave still stood over me, hazel eyes gleaming, still lapping my creamy ejaculation from his hand.
I was about to say something when a feminine voice from the shower broke the silence. ‘Are you guys done in there? I’m freezing my tits off.’
Daddy looked up smiling ‘We’re nearly all done Pet, you can come out in just a minute’. He looked at Dave and walked over to the mahogany desk, tossing a moist towel at him which Dave caught in mid-air. ‘Clean yourself and Adam up David’ Daddy said.
Dave methodically moved the white wipe over his olive skin. When he was done, I reached up to take it from him to clean up the sticky mess around my now tumescent dick but he reached past my outstretched hand and began gently swabbing around my sensitive genitals with a large grin on his face. I bit my lip and screwed my eyes closed, it was like being touched for the first time again.
‘Don’t worry babe’ Dave said soothingly ‘I’ll keep what’s mine nice and clean’.
‘Have him put this on’ Daddy said as he tossed a white hotel dressing gown on to the bed beside me. I could see it was for an adult. ‘There’s nothing that will fit me?’ I asked.
Daddy just shrugged his shoulders. ‘David said he wanted you at your most beautiful, and I thought that was ten year old you…with a tiny pecker. But he meant a teenager and you’re about half a foot too big for anything I had ready so it’s that dressing gown or naked’.
David made a play of considering ‘naked’ for only a moment, but he instead broke out in a wide smile and coaxed me onto my feet. As he draped the gown over my shoulders and guided my arms into the sleeves, the sheer difference in our size became apparent. I was a five foot nothing boy whereas he was a six foot three man. I barely reached up to his shoulders.
‘He’s yours now David,’ Daddy said at last from behind the mahogany desk. ‘All records of his existence as an adult man have been erased.’
‘What?’ I gasped incredulously. I’d been erased? Everything I had done? Everything I had achieved? Daddy just ignored me, I was a boy beneath his consideration when it came to the matters of adults it seemed, but Dave put his giant arm around and leaned in close. ‘Don’t worry Adam, you’re mine now. I’ll look after you.’
That didn’t make me feel better. Melissa’s legacy was to have been a human titan, someone who bestrode the world, not the toy of a better man dandled on his knee. But that’s what I was now. I was Dave’s boy toy.
‘I’ll allow you a month off work for settling into your new home and bonding with your ward. You’ve visited your premises in the Gentle Pines?’
‘I have Daddy, yes and it’s more than I ever could have dreamed of. Thank you Daddy’ Dave said.
‘Good lad. Alright, in total that leaves you indentured to the company for a hundred and thirty seven years, the extra twenty eight being from the modifications we had to do to Adam. You should be more precise with your requests David’
Dave looked a little bashful but said ‘Yes Daddy, I understand Daddy’.
‘Anyway’ Daddy said with a flourish of a few final keystrokes before he shut his laptop down. ‘I think we are done. Will you and Adam be staying much longer, I hear there is a party tonight by the pool you both may find fun.?’
‘No Daddy, I think we will be heading home soon. I want to get reacquainted with the new Adam and I want him to get used to everything again’. It was then I noticed that the arm that had been wrapped around my shoulder for comfort had slipped down to my butt. Dave was gently rubbing the crevices of my ass through the huge bathrobe I was wearing.
‘I understand entirely David. I’m looking forward to some leisure time of my own,’ Daddy said as he cast a lecherous glance at the bathroom door. He stood up and leaned over the desk to take Dave’s hand in a firm handshake, as between equals. I reached out as well as he reached out towards me, but instead of grasping my hand he instead ruffled my mass of blond hair. He was rubbing it in.
‘Come along Adam’ Dave said, as he gently guided me towards the door and into the hall, while I desperately tried to not trip over the hem of the oversized garment. As the door closed behind us, I heard Daddy call out ‘Alright Moira pet, it’s time. Come to Daddy’.
‘Daddy will have his fun Adam’ Dave said as he took my little hand into his huge one, not even turning his head to look at me but knowing I heard his words. ‘And very soon, I’ll have mine. You belong to me now and I promise you, you will find your new life to be an endless delight.’ His hand squeezed mine, sharply, eliciting a sharp gasp. ‘So long as you understand that in this relationship, I am the Man, and you are the boy.’