Robertson Russell's cell phone rang as he was haranguing Ned Crawford his chauffer from the back seat.
"I want this car polished more, Crawford!" Robertson lectured. "You're not working hard enough, man."
Ned Crawford nodded his broad black face, trying to hide a grin, as Russell continued his screed.
"You aren't supposed to just sit around in the corporate parking garage.
Yes, waiting for me to call you to go somewhere.
What a lazy Negro you are!
It seems as if ever since you've developed this odd relationship with my mother, you're lazier these days."
" I'm the one in charge, Crawford.
My father left the company, the money the car to ME."
The chauffer nodded his head.
"Yessir, Mr. Russell...Ain't that your phone?" Crawford said innocently.
Robertson Russell answered the phone.
"Robertson Russell here...
Oh, hello, Mummie. I'm coming home now, we're pulling in. Crawford?
But I thought it would be just us tonight, I was going to send him home for the weekend...
Yes, ma'am. I'll tell him.
Goodbye, Mummie."
Russell harrumphed loudly as he shut off the cell.
"Crawford, my mother wants you to join us for the evening, as I'm sure you knew. So we'll go in."
Crawford looked behind him, scratching his Afro as he turned off the key.
"Actually, Mr. Russell, you're to change into your other clothes, there's a package at your feet.
I'll go in now, and you're to come in about half an hour in your little suit."
As Crawford said "little suit" he enunciated it with an effeminate sneer.
Russell remained silent as the black chauffer shut the car door and went into the Russell mansion, whistling.
Russell pulled the package from the back seat, and pulled out his hated sailor suit. Slowly he began removing his business clothes.
Yes, and a tear rolled down his cheek slowly.
Robertson felt around in the bag for the horrible outfit, the one with the knickerbockers and the tie.
Ah, but what came out of the bag was an even more peculiar outfit, attached to which was a note.
"Dear Bobbie you complain so much about your sailor outfit.
So that I have decided that you don't have the maturity for such a manly little suit.
And so I had Ned purchase you an outfit for even younger boys the Buster Brown suit.
You have been behaving like a toddler, so you are going to wear a tunic...
Just a nice smock which little boys were allowed to wear just before they were old enough to wear breeches...
Yes, in other words, its like a little dress with pantaloons. I hope you enjoy it!
Your sister Danielle picked it out for you in Chicago and sent it here! Mummie."
Oh, Danielle such a wicked sister! After she turned 19, she began dominating her older brother, as did Mummie.
Bobbie was so glad that she'd moved out of the house when she had. It had been so humiliating, the way Mummie had so favored his younger sister.
Whenever Bobbie had gotten upset with Mummie for not allowing him to go to a party or watch an R rated movie, Mummie would quell his tantrum.
Yes punishing by ordering Bobbie to strip and wear diapers.
She'd lock all the bathroom doors and Bobbie would be forced to spend anywhere from three days to two weeks in nappies.
Bobbie's sister would be allowed to change his diapers and give him hot baths and enemas.
"But it's not fair, man"
Bobbie would kick his legs as Danielle leaned over him, her pink tube top bouncing.
His little 19 year old sister had had such a hot body, but Bobbie had never seen her naked, but she saw him in the buff lots of times.
"Shut your face, Bobbie!" Danielle would say.
"Or I'll tie a pink ribbon to your wee- wee before re-diapering you."
Oh, Bobbie could remember how Danielle's elegant little white hands with the long purple nails looked, rubbing baby oil around his shaved cock and balls.
If Bobbie got excited, Danielle would often pour boiling water on his Bad Thing, as Mummie called it, to calm him down.
Once, when Bobbie had rebelled against infantilization.
Danielle and her best friend Paige had tied Bobbie to Mummies' big poster bed.
Right, and had the ladies taken turns thrashing Bobbie's bare rump with willow switches that they'd cut from the tree in the back yard and soaked in the bathtub.
Bobbie had screamed and cried in frustration and agony--at the time he was twenty-one and they were eighteen...
Then Paige had forced poor Bobbie to stand in the corner with his pants down while Danielle called their friends over for a sorority frat party...
Oh the agony!
Bobbie had that one thing to cheer him up...
Danielle wasn't living here anymore...
Mummie and Ned would be enough.
But why, oh why had Danielle purchased this humiliating outfit?
Robertson nearly cried as he stared at the frilly collar.
Ah, the pink and blue velvet jacket, and the baggy Raggedy-Ann underwear.
To replace his wing-tips, Mummie had included lace up shoes and stockings. Robertson sighed, and began dressing.
Half an hour later, Bobbie climbed out of the big car and trotted into the house like a good boy.
Entering Mummies' parlor quietly in his sailor suit and Mary Jane buckle shoes.
Oh...there was his beloved Mummie, her pretty, long hair askew, leaning into the arms of that bad black man, Evil Uncle Ned.
She'd taken down her strict bun without him.
Normally, Mummie wore her beautiful hair in a bun all week long, tied up tight, and only on Friday nights did she take it down.
Then she would allow Bobbie to brush it, as long as he was a good boy, and didn't let his Bad Thing get too excited.
Mummie NEVER let anyone but Bobbie take down her hair, but here it was all over her shoulders.
But now that evil nigger, Uncle Ned was running his fingers casually through Mummies' long pretty locks.
And rubbing his fingers on Mummies' bosom.
Ah, encased as it was in her pretty gold lame dress.
Mummie didn't seem to see Bobbie as she breathed into Uncle Ned's face.
"How nice it was for you to take down my hair for me, honey!
Do you like stroking it...it sure feels good!"
Bobbie was enraged, but what could he do?
