Damion was in the final stages of his before-school preparations. He was loading up his wallet with some cashe and other paper and plastic items that he might need. With a dextrous movement he pulled one more card from atop the short dresser and held it up to his face. His library card. He turned the card over. Written on the back in her strong hand was this message:
'To whom it may concern: This is my son's library card. He has my permission to take out three books a week from the ADULT section of the Maloch Public Library.'
It was signed Officer Samantha Trefoil
Beneath her name, like a P.S., she had added this:
'Damion enjoys depictions of the female form.'
Damion trotted down the stair – the rapid strikes of his feet against the wooden stairs as he descended rolled through the house like a far of peel of thunder.
'Birthday boy!' Samantha Trefoil , startling him, and rushed out from the kitchen where she had been preparing his lunch. Wearing nothing but white panties, her tight circlet of white pearls and an unbuttoned silk shirt of Damion's, she threw her arms around his neck and smacked him hard on the
cheek with her lips.
Damion scrubbed at his cheek with the back of his hand.
“Come on, you love surprises!” she said, smiling generously.
“Do not,” said Damion, although he did.
So, today would be his birthday, then? He told himself he did not care. Then he thought he might tell a friend or three at school about it. His friends were real chums and would probably find a way to get him a present before the school day was out.
Damion liked the look of his adopted mother this morning and he pressed himself hard against her and forced a kiss.
Mom's mouth was ungiving.
Power and domination were a tricky business, a lot of personal disciple was required.
If Damion missed school, even to stay at home, his mother had ways to make him regret it later.
Damion spanked her once as a goodbye and without another word started down the hill.
He looked very handsome this morning and looked around to see if anyone was watching —
God, it was hard to be him — but it was okay.
The usual morning flood of students was moving schoolward along Asher Avenue at the bottom of the hill, but up here he was alone |