Exclusive - "Proving it" - Part 3

“Handsome boy,” says Jessica lightly. Standing opposite him, she strokes his chest, past his toned stomach, until he pulls away. “Such a handsome boy.” She looks at him appreciatively. “When I saw you at Ed Street, sitting at the bar with a Stella, I thought to myself, ‘Might as well do someone who’s good looking.’” She grins. “I wanted a handsome puppy.”

I’m not a puppy, Max almost argues. But that’s not the point.

The test is the point.

He puts a hand up, to stop Jessica touching him again, before she gets too close, and he loses his mind before it all gets too much like the night before. “What did you do to me?”

“They said it couldn’t be done.”

“Who?”

“The school, silly. Where I work. Where you’re going to be the newest student.”

This doesn’t make sense. And Max should walk out right now. He doesn’t have his clothes, but he doesn’t need clothes. He can just walk, find a new house, and ask them to help. He can tell them about the bad lady, and they will dress him, feed him, keep him safe.

He looks to the bedroom door. Just a few steps. And don’t forget about the silly rug. Don’t step on the rainbows, and don’t cuddle the blankie.

“It’s a special school, Max. A lovely, safe place for boys and girls who are innocent, who know how to relax. You’re going to love it. But you only get to go if you’re totally relaxed. You only get to go if you show me your special splash.”

Max grits his teeth. “No way. I’m not…I don’t want to give up my life.”

“You don’t want me as your Mummy?” There’s a hint of pain in her voice. Maybe that’s real, maybe it’s pretend. If it’s real, he can give up right now. Because he likes love, and he is ready to fall back under Jessica’s spell, to be her devoted little puppy.

So is it real? He turns back to look at her. When Max considers the point, he can only admit that Jessica is a talented actor.

“I don’t need a mummy. I’m an adult.”

“Not here.” Jessica gently taps the side of Max’s head. “Because I’m helping you. You’re going to be happy and carefree for the rest of your life. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“It’s…no, it’s terrible. I want to write, to work, to think. I want to have ideas!”

Maybe. Maybe not. After last night, Max is also a talented actor.

“No. No you don’t. You want to be silly and helpless; you want your Mummy to dress you up and feed you and wash you and give you lovely cuddles. And you want to go to the school where you can play with the other special boys and girls.”

He shakes his head, but he doesn’t run. He doesn’t race out of the room; he doesn’t leap over the rainbow rug.

He pouts, and a single, fat tear rolls down his cheek. He whispers, “It’s not true. You tricked me. I never would’ve said yes to this.”

“No trick, sweet boy. Just a suggestion. Just a special, fluffy blankie. Remember how it feels? Mmm, so soft. Funny how it makes you so hard at the same time.”

There’s no denying what’s happening in Max’s underwear, a tenting giveaway.

“And last night, you were so quick to relax. You were giggling and playing with toys. I had you stripped down to your undies in about five minutes. You’re proof that I’m the best at doing this, that it’s not about the target, it’s nothing to do with the history, with a profile.” Jessica laughs. “Test? It was nothing, it was flying colours.”

“What did you do to me? What’s the test?”

Max asks the question calmly, and that’s perhaps because he knows that he can’t do much about what happens next. Maybe the story has already been written.

But he wants to know. Even if he’s afraid of the answer.

His cool tone seems to make up Jessica’s mind.

“I’ll tell you.” She nods. “I’ll tell you before I finish the job. But you really don’t remember?”

“No.”

“Funny, because you sound almost normal right now. You sound like you could pass.”

Max looks at the woman. “Pass the test?”

Jessica smiles indulgently. “No, silly. Pass for normal.” She waves at him. We could put some normal clothes on you, go for a walk, and maybe people would mistake you for a real grown-up.”

That’s too much. Max hardens his jaw. “What the- “

“The test wasn’t for you.” Jessica reaches for his cheek, gives him the gentlest of caresses.  “There’s no grade for you to worry about. And if you’re worry about failing, don’t worry.” She pats his skin. “It’s already happened, all of it. When I got you home, in the bath, before bed. Everything’s already been done.” She frowns lightly. “How you woke up with some of your old thoughts in your head, I don’t know. But don’t worry. We’re almost finished here.”

Max steps away, walks around the puzzle, because he can’t mess it up, not when they’re almost finished. He wants to see what kind of puppy that pink tongue belongs to. Because it might be a puppy just like him.

“You said there was a test,” he says. “You said it.” Which is true, which maybe doesn’t matter. But she definitely said it. And despite everything, if Jessica dodges the issue again, there’s going to be trouble. Max will get into one hell of a sulk. He might just stamp his feet if she’s not careful.

Jessica sits back down beside the puzzle. As if she’s going to ignore his point, as if she’s actually going to just work on that stupid jigsaw. Max feels indignation warm his face.

Besides, aren’t they supposed to be working on it together? He feels a sting of absurd tears in his eyes. Betrayed, forgotten about, abandoned.

“The test was for me,” says Jessica, her back to him as she considers the puzzle pieces. “I had to prove my point. To the school, to the people paying my wages.” She nods. “Ooh, two more pieces, wanna help?”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. Max races over and sits down beside her. He earns a smile for his trouble. “Good boy,” says Jessica, and Max smiles back. Because he understands. There’s nothing to fight, everything is already done. Last night. Before bed. All that’s left is remembering and then forgetting everything. That and a splash for Mummy.

“It didn’t have to be you. That was the point, really. They told me, ‘You can’t do this to just anyone.’ And so I was looking for a someone.” She laughs. “I was looking for an anyone, and you…hey, you’re a very handsome anyone.” She strokes his thigh, and Max doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t shift closer, he doesn’t beg, but he doesn’t resist.

He won’t put up a fight.

“They said I couldn’t do it, couldn’t just bring you home, not without drugging your drink. But I didn’t have to.”

Max nods. He remembers, one of the mental clouds lifting, as if Jessica has granted him permission. “You flirted.”

“I really did!” She strokes his back, fingers running down his spine, verging on a tickle, close to making him groan with pleasure. “I flirted. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Max whispers, although he means the stroking.

“And then we came back here, didn’t we.”

Max nods. “And then you…” He screws up his face. It’s a bad thing to think about, but he can’t work up the will to feel outraged. “You hypnotized me.”

Jessica laughs. “Little bit. I told you that you should relax.” She pulls him to her. “Come on, you were so tense! All nervous about the night, about what was going to happen, it was written all over your face. I just wanted you to relax. And then you did!”

“Because of the rainbows,” says Max.

“That’s right, clever boy. And I made a promise, didn’t I.”

Max nods. He feels a twitching, warming, hardening between his legs.

“What did I promise, sweet boy?”

Max looks down at his crotch, as if what’s happening there speaks for itself. And it probably does, but Jessica, strokes Max’s arm. “Hmm?”

“A splash,” he whispers.

“Good boy.” And she will reach for his crotch, and then it will be over, completely, and all he will feel is relief.

No. She holds up a puzzle piece, offers it to Max. “You do it. You finish it off.”

It’s a combination of a shiny black circle and brown fur. To complete the dog’s face and finish the puzzle.

Max does as he’s told, the puzzle piece reassuringly chunky in his hand. Still, it takes three tries to get it right. Just having Jessica’s hand close to his crotch is enough to dim his understanding, to wipe away years of knowing shapes and curves.

“Give it a pat,” Jessica says brightly. She means fitting the final piece in, or perhaps she means to pat the dog. Again, Max does as he’s told. Because it’s finished, it’s over. It’s fate.

“Good boy,” says Jessica. “I think you’re ready.” She smiles. “You’re just the sweetest little puppy, aren’t you.”

Max nods. “Yeah,” he whispers.

And he is. He leans back, his palms on the ground behind him for support. He is exposed, he is more than ready.

“Want your blankie?” Without waiting for an answer, Jessica reaches for the rainbow blanket and drops it into Max’s lap. And then her hand creeps underneath, and she has him in her firm grip.

Max takes a breath, close to a sob, as he understands all that he is about to lose.

“It’s okay, puppy,” Jessica says, her voice a singsong. “Make your splash, Mummy will look after you.”

Max moans, pushing eagerly with his hips, gripping the blanket with his hand. The friction is impossible to resist, a final delight, as the tension builds.

“I’m gonna…I’m gonna…”

Jessica giggles sweetly. “Yes, you are! Make your splash, sweet boy. Let it all out for Mummy!

She quickens her strokes and Max cries out as he comes. It is more than a splash, it is a fountain, but safely contained, captured in the thick cotton of his infantile underwear.

“There!” says Jessica, and when she pulls gently at the elastic of Max’s underwear to confirm the results, Max, and only sit there, exhausted, gazing down at the sticky mess with an expression that is both sated and innocent.

Jessica gives his penis a final stroke, earning a last drop of semen. “Good boy. You’re going to make me very popular, everyone’s going to love you.”

Max leans against Jessica, curling up so that his head ends up in her lap. A thumb creeps into his mouth and he closes his eyes.

Everyone will love him? That might be true, but Max doesn’t care about everyone. He is a simple anyone, and he only cares about his mummy.

THE END