RR Vignettes #5 Samantha Beaurmont - Chapter 2 (Patreon)

RR Vignettes #5 - Samantha Beaurmont

Chapter 2 - First Night Home

[2010-02-22]

As Samantha trudged up the inclined driveway of her two-story home, she could see that the living room light was still on.  The 18-year old was not a betting girl, but she'd be very comfortable wagering that her mother was planted on the living room loveseat, waiting intently for her youngest daughter to return home from her long flight to North Carolina.

Her keys jingled in the door as she unlocked the latch to allow herself into her home.

Before Samantha could even finish locking the door behind her, she heard the rapid scuffles of her mother’s slippers against the hardwood floor. Samantha saw a set of fair, dainty arms enter her peripherals and encircle her.  The warmth of her mother’s embrace figuratively and literally warmed the chilly teenager. It wasn’t quite as warm here as it was in North Carolina; her bare toes, most of all, were aware of the temperature difference.

“I was so worried you weren’t going to make it back!” Marilyn exclaimed, nuzzling her cheek against Samantha’s from behind and giving her a big kiss.

“Mom, you knew I landed already,” Samantha giggled, turning around to give her mother a proper hug.  “I texted you when I stopped to fill up my tank a few minutes ago.”

“Well still, I just always worry about you!” Marilyn said, squeezing her daughter tight.  “That’s what mothers are best at, after all!”

Marilyn broke the hug with Samantha, but retained a grip on her palmed hand.  “Why don’t you come sit down with your curious mother.”

Samantha dropped her backpack at the door and obediently followed her mom to the living room, where a wrinkled up, fleece blanket waited to once again wrap around the middle-aged woman.  “I want to hear all about your day.”

Marilyn plopped down on the couch, the slit of her robe widening just enough to show a bit of her bare upper thigh before the fleece blanket circled her again.  She left her slippers down on the ground in front of the loveseat, tucking her bare feet in under her wide bottom.

Samantha watched as Marilyn patted the cushion immediately next to her but after only a single pat, she seemed to catch herself, as if she’d said a curse word in front of her daughters.  Then her mother’s expression soured.

“Oh…unless…..are you not able to sit down when you have him…I mean…is he…with you right now?”

Samantha’s cheeks reddened as she felt her mother’s eyes wandering over her wide hips. Samantha had taken after her mother’s pear-shaped figure so there was never any pretense or reluctance on her mother’s part to talk body-types.  Marilyn seemed to see it as a bonding mechanism between the two, which Samantha appreciated but any discussions about her body often made her more than a little self-conscious.

“Yes, he’s with me now.  He’s…ummm…well, the doctors have a term for it.” Samantha said, turning sideways just enough for Marilyn to see just how far out the shelf of Samantha’s booty extended as she ran a hand over one cheek.  “They call it ‘installed’.”

“Oh, so he’s installed right now? How professional!” Marilyn said.  “So, are you able to sit down while he’s installed then?”

“Mm-hmm. I can pretty much do anything while he’s in there.” Samantha said, taking a slow but careless seat next to her mother.  She’d noticed early on that a lot of things made him struggle and wiggle, but going from sitting to standing might have had the biggest impact.  Samantha surmised that it was because his entire world was rotating and it might have been hard for him to understand exactly what was happening, not to mention the serious compression of her cheeks whenever they were accepting her full weight, her large butt cheeks compressing as if they were two giant stress balls being squeezed.

“He’s been in there since this afternoon and I’ve been sitting a bunch already so I think he’s probably used to it.”

“But what about for you?” Marilyn asked, resting her cheek on her palm. “Does that feel strange?”

Samantha nodded.  “Oh, it’s definitely something to get used to.  It kinda makes me feel a little self-conscious…like people are staring.”

“Well, no one knows about him!  The people who are looking are just checking out your butt, sweety!”

“Moooom….staaaaahp.” Samantha said, lifting her folded hands from her wide lap and burying her blushing face in her palms.

“Well, they are!  Boys are going to look, sweety.  And that’s more or less okay as long as you’re prepared to tell them to back off!” Marilyn laughed.

Samantha was well aware of the attention her big butt called.  There was nothing worse than being a timid girl that just wanted to be ignored but having her butt practically shouting out ‘Hey look at me!’  It was one of the reasons why she favored baggier-fitting pants!

“But seriously,  I want you to know that I’m so proud of you for making this decision.”

As Marilyn’s voice took on a more serious tone, Samantha lost her nerve to maintain eye contact, her eyes returning to her toes, her bare feet angled inward awkwardly.  She then felt her mother’s delicate fingers under her chin gently lifting and turning to face her.  “I know for a fact that it wasn’t an easy thing for you to do, flying all the way out to a new state, meeting new people, and signing up for such a…well…peculiar experiment.  Interesting!  ..but certainly peculiar.”

Normally, there was a very good chance that Samantha would be counting the milliseconds until she’d achieved an acceptable duration of eye contact before she could look away again.  This time, however, she felt a strange sense of pride and confidence, and it felt as if the tiny little boy buried in her butt was somehow responsible.

Perhaps not in a literal sense.  He was just a boy stuck between a set of pale butt cheeks so he really wasn’t doing anything.

There really wasn’t a lot that HE could do for HER.

However, going through the process of flying all the way to North Carolina by herself, going through all the confusing and embarrassing situations, and then finally getting the trust of all those incredible women to take care of this little boy…THAT was such a boost to her self-esteem.  It was a boost she was still trying to find out how to incorporate into her every-day thought processes.

It was starting now, as she maintained eye contact with her mother, gently pushing away the screaming child in her head telling her that she wasn’t good enough.

“Thanks, Mom.” Samantha said with a smile.  “I’m…ummm…proud of you, too.”

“You know, I’m not sure if that’s just your dry sense of humor but I’ll take it! Do you know how many times I refrained from calling or texting you to see if you were okay?”

“Mom, you still texted me like a billion times!” Samantha laughed.

“I know!  So imagine all the times that I DIDN’T!  I don’t think my phone can count that high!”

Marilyn laughed endearingly at her own joke, patting her daughter on the knee.  “So tell me all about your trip!  How was the flight?”

“It was okay.  No one sat next to me on the plane so I had the row all to myself.”

“Oh, how lucky!  And how were the doctors when you got to…what was it called?  RR Labs?”

“They were really nice,” Samantha said, nodding.  “The one doctor, Dr. Bexley…she was there for basically the whole thing.  She was really friendly and she made me feel a lot better about the experiment.”

“Was she the one who called here a few times?  First name Alexandria?” Marilyn asked.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Oh, I like her!” Marilyn said emphatically.  She looked around the dimly lit living room, as if she were about to tell a secret. “You know…I hadn’t told you this, but do you remember when you stayed late at school for Book Club a few weeks ago?  Well, Dr. Bexley had called here with a question.  She was checking on the ETA of that saliva sample you mailed to them.  I told her that I’d dropped it in the mailbox for you earlier that week and then she and I had a very nice chat.”

“You and Dr. Bexley talked?” Samantha said, nervously rubbing her shoulder.

She adjusted her position on the couch cushion, awakening new frenzied movement of the compressed little subject buried in her compressed bottom. His movement within her ass had resulted in his repositioning, as if he was trying to burrow out of her rear but in the short few hours she’d had him, Samantha had already learned how to pretty efficiently and discretely secure the little subject in the deepest crevice of her asscrack with just a subtle wiggle of her hips.

“We did!  For almost an hour!”  Marilyn beamed.  “We talked about the experiment that her and her doctor friends are running. It’s all very fascinating.  I never would have thought of a bottom being such a good home for shrunken people but I suppose if you really think about it, it makes perfect sense…I suppose as long the bottom in question is big! I suppose all new ideas seem strange at first.”

Samantha blushed as her mother continued, unphased by her daughter’s uncomfortable disposition.

“We also talked about you. She was so accommodating and reassuring.  She told me that you were a very special volunteer.  She said that even though the experiment is focused on the shrunken men and how they adapt to the rear ends they live in, everything about this experiment is about your convenience and well-being…that you and your comfort are the most important thing.  She also said that one of the main points of the experiment is to have the tiny man learning to ‘live around’ the life of the lady, which I loved.  It means it really isn’t necessary for you to go out of your way at all.  She knew just what to say to comfort a worried mama bear!”

“Mom, I’m not a baby,” Samantha said. “I’m 18 years old now.  You don’t have to…do stuff like that.”

Marilyn raised an eyebrow, mild shock and frown creases appeared in the corners of the middle-aged woman’s face. Samantha could see that Marilyn’s reaction was genuine and sincere.

“Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart.  I…I know you’re not little anymore.  Did I overstep my bounds?”

Samantha had sympathy for her mother.  It was probably already hard enough being a helicopter mom and having your girls get older, never mind if one of the daughters has debilitating anxiety issues with basically everyone, albeit to a lesser extent with her mother and sister .

“It’s okay, Mom.  I know you’re just looking out for me. I just…I dunno…for the first time that I can basically ever remember, I’m getting these feelings–kinda like I can handle this myself.  It’s like…being a part of this experiment, knowing that the women and the boy they gave me are counting on me…it makes me feel stronger.  Does that make sense?”

Marilyn’s green eyes shined, “Of course it does, sweety.  You’re an adult now with a serious responsibility and you’re rising to the occasion.  You’re finding your confidence just like I always knew you would.”

“Well, maybe I’m getting there…but..umm…don’t think that I’m gonna turn into Candice or anything!” Samantha said, standing up from the loveseat.  As the pressure of her full weight left her buttocks, she felt the flesh expand outward as the bubble-shape of her booty returned to normal. As it happened each time, the little boy in her butt was probably super disoriented all over again.

Samantha was already kind of starting to get used to this.  He would, too.  She was sure of it.

“Thanks for waiting up for me, Mom. I think I’m gonna go unpack my backpack and get ready for bed.”

“Oh sure thing, sweetheart!  I’m going to go to bed, too.”

Marilyn slid her immaculately pedicured bare feet back into her slippers and began folding the fleece blanket over her wide lap.

“But if you end up getting hungry tonight, there’s some meatloaf wrapped up in the refrigerator for you. Also, I set your laundry basket on top of your bed.  Everything’s folded and just needs to be put away.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Samantha said with a smile, giving her mother a hug and kiss on her cheek.

“But before you go…” Marilyn’s voice trailed off as the hug broke, her eyes now aligned with Samantha’s hips. “Can I see him?”

Her big soft butt cheeks reflexively clenched and squeezed possessively in on the subject as if he were a valuable keepsake locked away in a strongbox, suspended in her twin spheres of flesh, muscle and fat.

“Oh, I think I’d be too embarrassed right now!” Samantha said with a giggle,  “He’s been…well…in there for a few hours now.”

The last thing in the world Samantha wanted to do was to pull anything out of her buttcrack and show her mom, even if it was her partner in this experiment.

“How about another day…after I’ve had a chance to clean him up and make sure he smells nice?”

“No problem, Sammi.” Marilyn smiled.

As Samantha grabbed her backpack, she heard her mother’s voice over shoulder.

“Oh, one more thing.  Speaking of Candice, your sister will be starting break on March 4th and will be driving back here for the week.”

Samantha froze in her tracks, halfway bent over picking up her backpack.

“Everything alright, sweety?” Marilyn asked.

Samantha cleared her dry throat as she slung the strap up over her shoulder, the heavy backpack thumping against her big, soft cheeks as it settled.

“Umm..yeah…but…you still haven’t told her, right?  About…” Samantha looked over her shoulder at her butt. “About him?”

“Well, of course not honey.  You asked me not to.”

“Can you..umm…keep on not telling her?” Samantha blushed.

Marilyn smiled knowingly.  “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Samantha smiled and ran up the steps to her bedroom, eager to adjourn to her safe, quiet place.  It was the first time she’d used steps since her new boy was installed, and holy moly were her butt cheeks ever jiggling and bouncing around like crazy!

* * * * * * * * *

10 Days Later

“Samantha, your sister will be here in about an hour and a half!”

Samantha pulled the covers down from her face and took a deep breath of the cool air circulating through her room via her spinning ceiling fan.  As she adjusted, Samantha’s body tightened for a moment as the spread-open book she’d been reading the night before tumbled off her chest and onto the floor.

She squinted at her alarm clock, the large size of the red lettering no match for her poor vision.  She stretched her arms up high, her wrist watch clinking against her wooden headboard as her toes curled under the blankets.

KNOCK KNOCK

“Did you hear me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mom.” Samantha said, groggily pushing the blankets down from her body and swinging her legs out of bed.  “I’m up.”

Her feet felt weak for a moment against the fibers of the carpet, as if they were relearning how to carry the weight of the sleepy teenager all over again. She reached toward her bedside nightstand which contained her glasses, her alarm clock, and a tiny hollow box. With blurry vision and clumsy fingers, Samantha found the cool plastic of her black thick-framed glasses and clutched them between her fingers but then her wrist knocked the small box from its home on her nightstand.

“Whoops.” Samantha said. She was too lazy at the moment to lean over and pick it up so she sandwiched the small box between her sock-clad feet.  She pressed in firmly on either side, her toes surrounding the small box, shrouding it in a cocoon of cocoa scented cotton as she lifted it up close enough for her to grab with her hand.

Samantha inspected the box, noticing that only two of the three LED lights on the side were illuminated.  She’d have to charge it soon. Unfortunately, it had the same charging port as her phone and due to its poor battery life, the phone often had priority.  She was always so bad with keeping that box fully charged.

“Sorry.” She said to the box, feeling a little bit silly about going so far as to apologize as she tossed it back on her nightstand.

Samantha started her day with a long, piping hot shower.  The 18-year old sang into her low-volume shampoo bottle in the steamy sanctuary of the shower, albeit quietly so as not to be heard by her mother.  The abrasion of her loofa felt great against her skin and she’d have spent all day in there if she could, but there were responsibilities out there waiting for her.  One of them she was excited and a little nervous about: the arrival of her big sister Candice.

The other responsibility she didn’t care too much about one way or the other, but she was getting better with it each passing day: the small box atop her nightstand.

..or rather…what was inside of it.

After brushing her teeth, it was time to return to her bedroom. Wrapped in a towel, Samantha sprinted from the bathroom to her bedroom, clutching the towel around her breasts and thighs as if the soft, fluffy fabric was the edge of a cliff.  Once inside, she allowed the towel to crumple at her bare feet.

As usual, the teenager opted for a graphic t-shirt and some loose fitting gray cargo pants. She’d gotten these particular pants for Christmas years ago and fell in love with the balance they struck between relaxed fit and fashionable.  She refused to stop wearing them even when they no longer fit quite so relaxed and loose in the back.

The fresh, clean pair of socks on her clean feet would have been the final step in getting ready but in the past few days, she’d made a slight modification to her routine.

Samantha approached her nightstand and picked up the small box she’d knocked to the floor earlier. It still carried the subtle, barely noticeable aroma of her socks and foot lotion. Sure, it probably wasn’t exactly the dream of any boys she knew to be surrounded by such a fragrance…but it surely wasn’t the worst smell he’d experienced since being paired up with her!

She opened the flap and turned the box upside down, dumping its contents out into her open hand. The naked little man tumbled clumsily and cutely into the softness of her palm.  Samantha had established a routine since being paired with the subject nearly two weeks ago.

Samantha had signed up for the month-long commitment, which meant that she would get paid $350 a week.  The subject also was paid $90 a week but Dr. Bexley told Samantha it was up to her to keep the funds separate if she wanted to.

…so she was essentially getting paid $440 a week just to keep the tiny man in her buttcrack.

The catch though, if you really could even call it a catch, was that she had to keep him wedged between her cheeks for at least 12 hours a day.  It didn’t have to be all at once and the way he spent the other 12 hours of the day was completely up to Samantha. She called it the Dynamic Daily Minimum, or DDM. It was called “Dynamic” because, as Dr. Bexley explained it, the longer that Samantha houses the subject in her butt, the stronger RR Labs would prefer that Samantha increase the hours he’s housed per day.

The friendly brunette woman she’d met in the RR Labs waiting room, Becca, had been doing this for years.  Samantha had to imagine that her DDM was probably closer to 20 hours!

Samantha had developed a system in the near two weeks she’d been housing the subject in her butt. Once he’d spent 6 hours in her crack–the natural halfway point for the day–she’d usually give him a little break, either putting him in his heatbox or setting him in the dry fish bowl atop the highest shelf of her bookshelf.

That wouldn’t be an option today, unfortunately, since she’d slept in and missed the earlier hours of the day.  At this rate, in order to hit the 12 hours, she’d have to keep him wedged up in her crack until around 11PM…probably even later than that, actually, to account for any of his super-short breaks during her trips to the bathroom.

Samantha could have told him but it only would have made him squeak and struggle in the way that he seemed to just love doing.  It was sort of cute at first but now it was just annoying and the easiest way to silence it was with her big, dense butt cheeks.

Without a word to the subject, she closed her fist around the tiny naked boy and slid her closed fist down the back of her cargo pants.  The material stretched to fit her large butt AND her hand until the hand escorted the subject as deep as he could go between her cheeks.

As always, she could feel his little fingers trying to hold onto her hand.  In response, she’d swiped him up against the inner wall of her butt cheek, as if she were wiping sugary fingers into a clean handkerchief. As soon as her hand came out and her cheeks sealed up around him, there was no longer any risk of him getting out.

She checked her clunky wristwatch.  It was 11:03AM.

He’d be there until bedtime.

~