personalias
patreon
Mami's Boy
🕑 Added 2023-05-05 01:12:56 +0000 UTCNote: All character's in this story are HIGHLY fictionalized versions of real people.
The Hook….
Professional wrestling is fake. Every time the camera is rolling, every time someone who isn’t a wrestler is watching you; it’s a work. No one is actually trying to injure one another, at least they shouldn’t be. The shiny gold belts are nothing more than props to dazzle fans and to create drama and tell stories. The toy replicas sold in Walmart would be just as valuable if the right worker sold it like it was. Likewise, most wrestlers practically live out of their cars, bars, and cheap hotel rooms. Even at the top levels, wrestlers have more in common with the carnival folk that started the business than the stylin’, profilin’, limousine riding, jet flying, kiss-stealing, wheelin’ and dealin’ sons of guns they purport to be. It’s all an illusion.
Professional wrestling is also the realest thing ever. Workers might not be trying to hurt each other, but everyone is still in competition with one another. Everyone wants to get the top spot on the card, to steal the show, to draw the most money, to sell the most merchandise. It’s still an athletic competition; it’s just a performance based competition like gymnastics or figure skating; and the only judges that matter are the people who pay to see you and the person who signs your checks.
It also never really ends. It doesn’t matter that everyone older than seven knows it’s a performance, the performance never stops. Chris Hemsworth can put down the plastic hammer and he’ll stop being Thor. On some level, a wrestler is always expected to be their character. Heels tend to hang out with other heels. Faces with faces. The old code of kayfabe still runs deep.
It was part of the reason why Rhea Ripley thought of herself as her ring name just as much if not more often as her birth name. When co-workers, bookers, and fans across the board tended to call you by your gimmick name, hearing your real name from just about anyone outside of family left a bad taste in your ear. That’s why even in her head, she was Rhea.
The other reason was the simple truth that while wrestlers could be great actors, they didn’t tend to be particularly good character actors. Every successful wrestling gimmick, so it was said, was just taking a part of one’s personality, turning it up to eleven and then cramming it into the preferred mold; whatever got the strongest reaction from the crowd.
That meant that Miz was kind of a button pushing cocky douche, Ronda Rhousey was kind of a competitive try hard, and Sami Zayne was definitely a wholesome goober. Even the legendary over-the-top gimmicks of yesteryear had this. Undertaker was closer to his biker persona, but even the Dead Man gimmick channeled his natural stoicism and old school traditionalism. Hogan was a bastard and a shameless self-promoter, but what was Hulkamania other than a positive spin on one man being the president of his own fan club?
Similarly, when she was Rhea Ripley, she had the ability to be a massive wanker when needed. When she went out to the ring she just flipped on a switch inside and went from her naturally laid back and personable self to become incredibly intense, brutal, and uncompromising in everything she did.
Presently, Rhea was riding around in a rental car just outside of Seattle. They had a house show that night, and a quirk in the scheduling had given them almost a whole day to settle in ahead of time. It was nice, just cruising around and killing time for once.
Nothing big, she had neither the time nor inclination to play tourist, but it was fun to just decompress and people watch.
PING!
Rhea picked her phone up from her lap and sighed.
“Who is it?” Alexa asked from the driver’s seat. “Buddy?” she asked hopefully. Despite currently working for different promotions, Rhea’s boyfriend regularly texted and called her.
“No,” Rhea sighed. “It’s Dom.”
From her spot in the back of the rental car, Bayley rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I thought he’d get the hint when you weren’t traveling with the rest of Judgement Day.”
Rhea shook her head and groaned. “Guess not.”
On the subject of gimmicks as a reflection of one’s personality, Dominik Mysterio had found his true calling as a spoiled brat. The guy had grown up in the business and his dad was one of the most famous luchadores of all time. When it became clear that he would never be a carbon copy of his famous father, Dom leaned into his privilege and relative inexperience, turning heel and making people successfully hate him instead of struggling to earn their love.
Rhea and Dom had a natural kind of chemistry together, with her playing the part of the domineering temptress and him as her submissive pet project and protege. She trained him to be a better wrestler with him feeding off of the supposed resentment his character had for his father.
It was a good angle. Made her look good on multiple levels, both as a wrestler and a character. Gave Dom a bit more room to work and develop his craft and character; better the prodigal son lead astray than Daddy’s perpetual sidekick. Win-win. Oh boy did they get heat. It was glorious.
Like all the best things in wrestling, there were elements of truth mixed in. Ripley really was working out with the young Mysterio and training with him. Their relative sizes and body types were a closer match than the father and son were, so it made sense for Dom to modify his style so that he was less acrobatic and more of a technical brawler. Dom also very clearly looked up to Rhea, almost like a kid brother wanting to play with his big sister.
Rhea read the message on her phone.
“Just checked into the hotel, Mami. Want me to find a gym? I’ll save you a machine.”
Lately the act had become too real. He’d started calling her “Mami” more and more when the cameras were off. Had gotten too flirty. Too familiar. The ‘little brother/big sister’ analogy was becoming less and less accurate behind the scenes. Week after week, it looked like Dominik was toeing the line between art and real life.
“I think it’s kind of cute,” Alexa said. “He’s kind of like a puppy dog.”
“You try having him constantly humping your leg, then.” Rhea joked.
“Point taken.”
Bayley tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Is there a way to get him to take the hint? Court?” Bayley, of course, wasn’t referring to actual legal intervention, but “wrestler’s court”, the informal system of locker room justice where the eldest and most respected amongst the workers settled squabbles by hearing complaints and then deciding which one had to buy the other booze and pizza to atone for their transgressions.
Rhea ignored Dominik’s next three texts and turned her phone off. “Naw,” she said. “It’s an old boy’s club.”
“Yeah…” her riding companions sadly agreed. The business had come far for women in recent years. Just not that far.
“Heh,” Alexa said. “What about the other way? What about a rib?”
Wrestling had a long and storied history of what amounted to frathouse level hazing, bullying and pranks. It had gotten toned down over the years, but the practice had hardly gone into the dodo. You didn’t have an industry filled with performers that were the exact intersection of jock and theater kid and not have drama and pranks…some more legal than others. You just didn’t.
“I don’t think he deserves it that badly,” Rhea mused. There was an implied “yet” at the end of her sentence.
PING!
Bayley looked at her phone and giggled in the back seat. “You sure about that?” She showed Rhea her phone. “Look who just texted me.”
Rhea read the text out loud and grimaced. “Hey B. Have you seen my Mami? Tell her her Dom Dom misses her.”
“How did he even get your number?” Alexa wondered, still driving around aimlessly.
“I didn’t give it to him,” Bayley frowned.
“He’s Rey’s kid,” Rhea sighed tiredly. “He probably just asked someone who asked someone who asked someone. He’s been around this business since he was literally in nappies and his Dad is a Hall of Famer. Who’s gonna tell him no?”
“Yeah,” Alexa teased, “But now he wants his Mami to change him!”
PING!
The blonde haired ‘Miss Bliss’ stopped the car in the middle of the road to check her phone. To be fair, it wasn’t really a road as much as it was a quiet alleyway. “Goddamn it, Dom!” That got a laugh out of the other two.
Fate and inspiration have a funny way of playing off each other. Legend has it that Jake the Snake Roberts invented the DDT by grabbing his opponent in a front headlock and tripped over the other man’s feet. One night Steve Austin’s wife had told him to come get his dinner before it turned “Stone Cold”. What happened here wasn’t nearly as momentous, but just as serendipitous.
Right as the car was pulling out of the empty alleyway and into a parking lot, Rhea saw a couple of young men walking out of a store. From their belly buttons up to their chins, they hefted heavy cardboard boxes out and towards their parked hatchbacks. One of them turned his head and regarded the slowly passing vehicle.
The ladies got a look. Then another. Then a third. Eyes became squinted in consternation, then a jaw went slack. All three women knew that look. “I think we’ve got a fan,” Bayley said. They’d been recognized.
The shock and awe on the fan’s face explained why he didn’t set the cardboard boxes down in the trunk of his car properly. The poor guy also didn’t pack his boxes very carefully. The packages weebled and wobbled until gravity took over and sent them to the pavement, their contents spilling out.
“Are those diapers?!” Alexa asked.
Indeed they looked like it, though not any diapers the trio were used to seeing .The packaging was clear plastic, with a single colorful slip of paper that did nothing to cover the crinkly cartoon covered rectangles inside. They certainly looked like diapers. So too did the thin white slip poking out the back of the now extremely embarrassed man’s shorts as well as his companion’s while they scrambled to pick up the spilled contents. The only major difference Rhea could detect was that the packages didn’t say ‘Huggies’ or ‘Pampers’ on them.
“Go-go-go-go-go-go!” Rhea shouted. Alexa tore off, with all three women cackling and cringing from second hand embarrassment. Rhea caught a glimpse at packages. Eagle eyed, she took note.
“Wow!” Bayley laughed. “That’s a story for later!”
“Oh-no-no-no-no,” Alexa shook her head laughing. She drove around the block slowly. “It’s not over yet.”
Rhea cocked an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Did you see those boxes they were carrying?!” Alexa crowed. “We’ve gotta see where they got that stuff!”
It then occurred to Rhea why her companion had stopped peeling out. “Awwww,” she cooed. “You’re giving those boys time to get away, aren’t you?”
“Yup,” Alexa giggled. “So that we can go back in and gawk.”
“Gawk?” Bayley said. “Gawk at what? A medical supply store?”
Call it a premonition, or perhaps the Australian was just slightly more cynical than her peers, but Rhea had the sneaking suspicion that those diapers weren’t strictly for medical use. Medical briefs didn’t have blue huskies on the front or alphabet blocks on the crotch. “We’ll see…”
A full five minutes later, the trio of superstars were parked, out of the car and waltzing through a tinted glass door in what was supposedly a boring and nondescript office space. The door opened, a bell rang, and the ladies' senses were delighted at the lighthearted absurdity in front of their eyes.
Racks of giant onesies hung from the wall. They weren’t feetie pajamas like what came in and out of style around winter time. They were onesies; the shirts that babies wore that snapped between their legs and over their diapers, only for much bigger babies.
Above them were displayed the same clear plastic packs of whimsically decorated adult diapers. Above those were innocuous looking baseball caps that had very similar decorations on the front.
“Hello there,” a man in a black polo said, striding towards them. “Welcome to Ay Bee…” he froze. “You?” Looks like they had another fan.
Rhea looked to her friends. None of them were laughing, but they both had a mischievous glint in their eyes that matched her own. “Excuse me,” she said. “But…what is this place?”
“It’s uh…uh…uh…uh..um…wow…” the young man stammered. Definitely a fan.
Rhea held her palm out to silence him. “Just a sec.” She turned to her companions. “About that rib…” she said, a sinister grin blossoming on her face. “I think I have an idea.”
Alexa and Bayley were grinning and nodding along with the idea. “Yeah?” Bayley asked. “Does it have anything to do with a certain someone calling you…Mami?”
Rhea nodded, slowly. “Mmmmhmmm…” She turned her attention to the star struck sales attendant. “So…can you tell me all about this stuff?”
By the time the associate was done (very politely and professionally) info dumping a whole lot of things into the triad’s brains, the inkling of a rib had turned into something resembling an actual plan to get Dom back.
A couple autographs and pictures bought the building’s silence. The people there were very helpful about what sort of things could be purchased, where, and for how much. They didn’t buy any diapers that day, but out of courtesy purchased a onesie or two.
There were only two questions remaining. “When and where?” Alexa asked back in the car.
“Patience, ladies,” Rhea said, turning her phone back on.
PING!
This time she didn’t mind Dom’s childish harassment.
“Chicago…”
***********************************************************************************************
The Angle…
Going into the family business is harder than most people give it credit for. Yeah, you have access to resources, training, and a kind of job security; there’s no denying that. But it also takes a toll on your identity. You never really break away from the people who see you as a kid. There’s no such thing as a fresh start or a clean break. You’re always in the shadow of someone else’s legacy. That’s what Dominik mysterio thought.
For all the leg-ups that being a “Mysterio” gave him, it came with the baggage of being ‘Rey’s kid’. Everybody in the locker room who knew him before he started performing saw a little kid playing dress up. Everybody who met him after saw a punk coasting off of Daddy’s coattails. Some choice: A wannabe kid or a spoiled brat.
It wasn’t all bad. Growing up with the culture gave Dom a special insight into most things. He still had dues to pay and respect to show, but those expectations were second nature. There was no learning curve or culture shock. Some kids were raised Catholic; other folks were Jewish. Dominik grew up in the Church of The Business. To him, things like locker room etiquette and kayfabe were no different than communion.
Being young, dumb, and twenty-five, Dom particularly liked ribbing folks. With what a high stress, and physically demanding profession that often involved the portrayal of overly dramatic characters that would make a telenovela star advise them to dial it back a bit, ribbing was a time honored tradition. If you couldn’t relieve the tension by fucking with your friends and co-workers, how could you relieve it? It was part of one big game, and Dom loved playing it.
“Two hundred ninety-two,” Dom whispered to himself, driving to the address Rhea had given him. “Two hundred ninety-two…two hundred ninety-two…” That’s how many times he’d called Rhea Ripley ‘Mami’ not counting on camera segments.
His count was likely off by a dozen or so, but that didn’t make the game any less fun to him.
This particular game had started with an innocent slip of the tongue. They’d just finished filming a backstage segment before a show. Between recording fuck ups and line flubs, the less than two minute scene had taken close to an hour to record and over twenty takes. The pre-recorded promos were sometimes harder to do than the in-ring stuff. If a body botched something live there was no choice but to just grit your teeth and push forward. It was better than doing take after take after take on something that might not even make the final cut.
They’d cut, called it a wrap, and the on-screen couple nodded and agreed to meet up after a quick dinner and a wardrobe change. “Okay. See ya later, Mami.” An honest mistake. Over the last couple of months, he’d called her ‘Mami’ more times than any other name. It was his character.
“The camera’s not on, Dom.” Rhea’s eye twitched, ever so slightly. Someone not as familiar with her might not have noticed.
“Oh. Sorry,” Dom had apologized. He’d meant it too. Didn’t stop him from noticing how annoyed she looked. Contrary to her character, or the tough emo/punk rock aesthetic she sported, Rhea was a sweetheart with nearly infinite reserves of patience. One could hardly blame the young man for seeing the opportunity for some light psychological warfare, just to see how far he could push things.
Maybe the perceptions of him as a kid and a brat had a kernel of truth to them…
Since then, he’d been calling her ‘Mami’ every chance he got, just barely tapping that button again and again until, pestering her like a fly buzzing in her ear, or a note sung just slightly off key.
Nearing three hundred instances over the course of months, the game was almost over. Dom could sense it. Either Rhea would snap and chew him out once and for all, or she’d become numb to it and accept it as a kind of pet name. Either way he’d stop. The joke wasn’t fun if it didn’t bother her, and if she yelled at him that meant he won. On some level, he suspected she knew this, too. That’s why the game had lasted this long. Rhea was also playing the game.
Any day now, the game would be over. His on-screen lover was close to cracking. He could sense it. Just. A. Little. More. Then he could apologize and get back to work. Dom wasn’t slotted on the card , but he had a series of intricate interference spots to run for Rhea’s match. Hence him showing up to do his part.
Dom pulled up to the address Rhea had given him and looked around, worried that he’d punched the wrong address into his GPS. It was dark by the time he rolled up, but this neighborhood was nice. Really nice. Just short of a gated community. He was expecting a hotel or maybe a motel, but the place was closer to a single story mansion. Nice cut lawn. Decorative trees. Calming brownish reddish bricks. Wide front windows with curtains that hid the inside. Was this even the place? The mailbox said it was.
He parallel parked on the street and got out of the car, looking around despite knowing he wouldn’t find anything. Shitty part about constantly living out of airports and rental cars was that you couldn’t look from your buddies’ cars to know if you were in the right place at the right time.
Dom pulled his hoodie up over his head and slinked up to the front door. Big show this weekend. Big enough so that they were given several days in advance to show up and practice their matches. No house shows in between last night’s T.V. taping and this weekend. Didn’t mean he wanted to be recognized and bothered by nosey locals.
Then he thought better of it and pulled the hood down. Young man in a hoodie after dark in a fancy neighborhood? Recipe for disaster. Thankfully the front lights were on. Nothing to do but to walk up and knock on the door.
Three swift knocks, and the door opened up. A welcoming familiar face greeted him from just across the threshold. “Dom!” Rhea smiled. “You made it!”
“Mami!” Dominik smiled back, loving the teasing. Two-hundred ninety-three. “I did!”
Rhea stepped aside and waved him in. “Don’t just stand there,” she said, “get in. Get in before somebody sees you!”
Dom thumbed back over his shoulder. “Sure! Just let me get my suitcase.”
Rhea leaned forward and yanked him inside. “Pfft. Get it later. Come in and say hi!”
“Okay, okay!” He laughed, blushing despite himself. He stopped and looked around, taking the inside in. Large, open floor plan. Kitchen, living room, big screen television, and the like could all be seen with just a scan. The place even had a bar along one of the walls, and bottles of liquor shelved right behind it. All of it was in one big common area like a clubhouse or a high end fraternity house. Adjourning doors and hallways more than likely lead to bathrooms, bedrooms, laundry room, garage and such. “Nice place!”
“You like it?” Rhea asked, ushering him deeper inside, steering him towards the bar. After a long day of travel, Dominik did not resist.
“Yeah,” Dom replied. “Real nice.” Something just occurred to him. “Who am I saying high to?”
One of the side doors opened up just a crack. Alexa and Bayley slipped out of the opening they’d made and quietly shut the door behind them. “Hi, Dom!” they waved, coyly. Dirty thoughts intruded into Dom’s head.
“Hey Alexa. Hey Bayley,” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. “So…what are we doing here?” He asked, hastily. “Why aren’t we in a hotel or something?”
Rhea and he finished walking up to the bar and leaned backwards on the counter. “Oh, you know,” she said casually. “Figured since we’d be in Chicago for a couple days, it made more sense to get an AirBnB. Pool our money together, get some privacy and just…chill, y’know?”
That made sense. Privacy and the time to be still and unpack a suitcase for something besides dumping clothes into a coin operated laundry was something of a delicacy. There were fans everywhere who harassed them. Most were nice, perfectly pleasant people, but there were just enough borderline stalkers out there to put someone on guard when traveling.
“Who else is here?” Dominik asked. This AirBnB wasn’t the ritziest, but it didn’t look cheap. Wrestlers at this level could make serious bank, but they had to pay for most of their travel expenses, too. This place could fit a lot more people comfortably if they were willing to double up.
“Just us,” Bayley answered. She was soon behind the bar, reaching for a bar of tequila.
Dom blinked. The young man’s lust battled with a sense of propriety. The only guy with three beautiful women? Yes please! Something didn’t feel right about it though. When Rhea texted they’d be hanging and partying tonight, Dominik had pictured something less…intimate. Lots of people, loud music. Drinking, yes, but also dancing. Was he just early? “Who else is coming?”
Alexa set out a couple of shot glasses. “Tonight? Just us.”
The young man swallowed. His libido had been slightly bluffing him and it was being called. “Just us? Why just us?” He clarified. “Why me?”
“We’ll have banger later,” Rhea assured him. “We just wanted to have tonight to ourselves.”
Was this happening? Was this really happening? Dom repeated himself. “Yeah. But…why me?”
Rhea pivoted so that she was leaning forward. The two were now side by side, heads turned towards one another. “Honestly, Dom?” she said. “We felt better having a guy around if somebody decided to follow us back here. Chase ‘em off.”
“Um…” Dom blushed. “Pretty sure you’re better in an actual fight than me.” He remembered to look across to the other women. “All of you.”
“We know that,” Bayley said. “But some creep off the streets might not.”
“We just don’t wanna get harassed this week,” Alexa added in. She took a bottle of tequila and started pouring into the shot glasses. “Figured a guy hanging around could keep the idiots from trying and finding out the hard way.” She finished pouring and looked up. “And you’re safe.”
“And if you’re not,” Rhea elbowed him. “I’ll kick your ass.”
The nervousness fled right out of Dom’s brainstem. He wasn’t being hit on! He was being friend-zoned! Oh God, what a relief. He liked Rhea and the others, but coworker stuff never worked out in the end. For once, he was glad to be everybody’s kid brother. Internally he wiped the imaginary sweat from his brow.
“Okay,” Dom said. “Cool.” Another thought. “Shit, how much do I owe you?” He hadn’t given them a cent for this place.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rhea waved it off. “We’ve all got a big payoff coming.” By ‘we’, she clearly meant herself, Alexa, and Bayley. Wrestlers getting their own match tended to get paid more than the ones doing run-ins and interference.
“Just handle your own food and drink,” Bayley said, “and we’ll be good. Throw in for pizza or whatever.” Bayley slid a shot glass full of tequila Dominik’s way. “Here you go.”
Dominik did his best to hide a grin. Get to hang out most of the week in a big house with three beautiful women and only have to pay for his food? Sex or no sex that was a hell of a deal! Any bruising to his ego (It still would have been nice to get hit on, even if he’d have to object ) was immediately salved by the accommodations in relation to his wallet.
He reached to grab the shot glass…and suddenly thought better of it. “No thanks,” he said. “That stuff looks expensive.” If he hadn’t been looking at the glass, he’d have clocked the enormous stink eye that Rhea was giving Bayley right then. “I think I’m gonna go out to my car, get my stuff, and go to bed.” He stood up from the bar. “Which room is mine?”
“Or…” Alexa offered, “How about a bet?”
Dom cocked an eyebrow. “What kind of a bet?”
Alexa giggled. “Last one to pass out doesn’t have to pay for it.” She took one of the glasses and threw it back.
A drinking game? Dom’s competitive instinct kicked in. Free booze tasted the best. He had to have had at least fifty pounds on all of them. He could totally drink all three of them under the table. Dom took the offered shot and took a shot. “Wooooooo!” he crowed. This stuff was smooth! “Deal!”
Rhea and Bayley took their shots, and Rhea walked behind the bar. “I gotta feeling we’ll need two bottles of this stuff tonight,” she said, opening a second bottle while Dom was pouring a second shot.
Dom took another shot before the others had started pouring. The stuff was already starting to kick in. “You ladies are in for a rough night!”
Rhea poured herself, Alexa and Bayley, shots from the extra bottle she broke out. “We’ll see about that.”
****************************************************************************************
Dark…
“Smooth move, Bayley,” Rhea said sarcastically while she plopped an unconscious Dominik onto the couch. “You almost blew it with that pay for food and drink, thing.”
“I thought he’d get suspicious if we told him everything was free,” Bayley said. How was I supposed to know he’d want to be cheap?”
“His dad has been doing this forever, and he’s got a sister,” Alexa answered. “You think Rey didn’t teach him how to save?”
Bayley was starting to get defensive. “Why’d we have to go for the expensive stuff? We could have gotten him to pass out with just beer and pizza.”
The women made almost no attempt to lower their voices. They’d steadily plied Dom with tequila until he was blackout drunk and dead to the world. They could have their own wrestlemania here in the rented living room and he’d sleep through it.
Rhea rolled her eyes. “Because beer and pizza takes longer, and it’s harder to fake.”
The second tequila bottle had practically been a prop.There was just enough tequila in it so that the smell lingered. The rest of its contents had been flat ginger ale. After the first round of shots, Dom had been the only one of them actually drinking anything. If he’d been paying attention, he might have noticed that the girls were all drinking from the same bottle and weren’t half as wobbly as he was, but being drunk tended to make it harder to notice such things. Point being, beer and pizza didn’t hit as hard or as quickly. Rhea had wanted to go straight for the proverbial throat.
“Whatever,” Rhea said. “It’s not a big deal. Things are still going according to plan.” She gave a thumbs up to Alexa. “Nice save with the drinking contest.”
Alexa returned the gesture. “Don’t mention it.”
“Ready to get to work, ladies?”
Bayley smiled, mischievously. “We kind of beat you to it. Everything is about ready to go.” So that’s what they’d been doing in Dom’s room!
Rhea’s glee bubbled up so hard that it was easy to forgive and forget the close call Bayley made in the name of realism.“How much of it?”
“We managed to get everything out of the boxes,” Bayley said.
Alexa reported “Table is put together. Figured you’d want that first.”
“Uh-uh,’ Rhea shook her head. “We do this, we’re doing it right. We put everything together, we clean up the packaging, and put everything that either doesn’t belong to us or that we don’t need in the garage.”
There had been a reason Rhea wanted to do this bit of ribbing revenge here, just outside of Chicago. When they’d found out about this particular community back in Seattle, Rhea had learned that there was a very big presence in Chicago as well.
How big? Big enough where custom furniture was a thing. What she couldn’t rent, she could commission. The whole thing was insanely expensive to the point where the opulent AirBnB they were staying in was one of the least costly parts of this bit. It would all be worth it in the end.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get to work.”
Alexa jerked her head towards a still sleeping Dom? “Don’t you wanna…you know? Just in case?”
“No,” Rhea told her. “I don’t. I don’t wanna risk waking him up. I want everything perfect when he wakes up.”
“What if he…?” Bayley folded her hands over the front of her pants and did a little dance in place. They’d really have to get used to saying the words out loud.
“If he wets in his sleep, it’ll add to the rib and make it even more embarrassing what I put a nappy on him.”
With just the three of them, it’d take at least a couple hours to set all this up. This stuff was heavy and none of them were experienced at this. It wouldn’t be easy, but it most certainly worth it.
“Come on. Let’s get to work. See how he feels about calling me ‘Mami’ after this.”
The three laughed. Dominik stirred drunkenly, but didn’t open his eyes.
************************************************************************************
Shine…
“Dom,” a gentle voice roused Dominik from his slumber. “Dom. Time to wake up, honey. It’s morning!”
Dominik Mysterio was still dreaming, or so he thought. He certainly wasn’t awake. Couldn’t be. His body was determined to stay unconscious to the point where he was practically a bear in winter. “Hrrrn…?” He sleep-mumbled.
“Now, now,” the voice chirped gently in his ear. “I can’t have my widdle man sleepin’ the day away. Let's get up. C’mon! Wakey, wakey!”
That voice? That accent. It sounded so familiar that even his not quite awake brain recognized it. It was Rhea, wasn’t it? Except it sounded higher pitched and happier than he was used to. It wasn’t anything unnatural, just…different. It was like how people’s voices unconsciously got higher and happier when they talked to little kids. Exactly like that.
“Mmm…Mami?” Dom mumbled. He hadn’t meant to call her that this time. He’d just spent so much time messing with her, ribbing her, that the word jumped up and out of his mouth by accident.
Oddly enough, the slip of the tongue was rewarded. “That’s right,” Rhea cooed back. “Time to wake up, baby.”
Dominik opened his eyes. Rhea was standing over him, gently nudging him on the shoulder. “Baby?” He really was dreaming. Rhea would never call him that. Not off camera. She’d never responded in any kind of affirmation before. As far as Dominik knew she’d been trying to ignore him into submission.
“That’s right,” Rhea reached down and grabbed him by both shoulders, guiding him up off the couch until he was in a sitting position. “Time to get up, Dom-Dom.” Every syllable was so syrupy that Dom could have poured it over pancakes.
Pancakes.
Dominik’s stomach rumbled. Last night’s drinking contest had given him a light hangover and a craving for sweet and greasy breakfast foods. “Did I win?” he asked, groggily.
“Win what, baby?” Rhea took hold of his wrists and stepped back, pulling him up to a standing position. “That’s right. Stand up. Good boy! So big! Now let’s walk for Mami to your bedroom.”
She slowly led the stumbling Dominik away from the couch (how had he gotten there anyways?) and towards the door Alexa and Bailey had crept out of last night. Besides his stomach, something else inside of him was signaling to him that it needed to be taken care of.
Off in the opposite direction, he spied an open door with the trademark tiling and sink inside it.
Still slightly drunk, dreaming, or both, Dom leaned away from Rhea and tried to stumble towards the room with the porcelain. “Baffoom,” Dominik mumbled.
“Bathroom?” Rhea replied. “Awww, that’s silly. It’s not bathtime yet.” She yanked him back in the right direction, and Dom’s body saw little point in putting up any resistance.
Dominik’s vision got just a smidge clearer and he was more certain than before that he was still fast asleep. How else could there be a big wooden playpen in the middle of the floor? The thing was practically a cage- he’d seen training rings smaller than this- but it was loaded up with tremendous carnival sized stuffed animals. His gaze sharpening, he saw that next to the open island in the kitchen area was a tremendous highchair. In stumbling away from the couch, Dom remembered, he’d barely scraped by a baby floor gym that could have been used as a tent frame.
He really was still dreaming, wasn’t he? “Wussallat?”he slurred while the dream came more and more into focus. Groggily, his hand drifted between his legs and he held himself.
Rhea gently slapped his hand. “Ah-ah-ah” Dream Rhea said. “Mustn’t touch. Mustn’t touch.” The slap stung almost enough to wake him up. Almost.
Dominik had had dreams like this before. Okay, not like this, but close enough. Lots of times, especially after drinking, Dom would have dreams where he needed to pee, but some outside force- a vanishing toilet, a locked door, someone distracting him- prevented him from reaching his destination. Then he’d wake all the way up, go take a piss, and be done with it. Dream over. He’d be lying if he said this was the first time Rhea was the distraction.
Might as well just go with it. “Mami,” he whined, “I gotta peeee!”
“Awwww,” Rhea giggled, leading him along. “Let’s get baby Dom Dom into his widdle nappy before he makes puddles on the floor.” She placed her hand on the door and pushed it open.
“Nappy?” Dominik repeated. “I thought I just woke…” The sight inside gave him pause. “...up?”
The common area outside the room had already looked like a giant baby lived there. Big playpen out in the open. Big highchair in the kitchen. Big floor gym by the couch. This bedroom…wasn’t. There was an adult sized crib in the far corner, the floor was tiled with foam puzzle pieces, there was a rocking horse as big as the real deal in the middle of everything and a changing table directly across from him.
Forward momentum with a pinch of shocked disbelief carried him and his figment Rhea over to the oversized baby changing station.
Rhea leaned into Dom, pressing her forearm against his chest and hooked her leg onto his heel. “Up we go!” With one swift and surprising movement Rhea swept him off his feet; tripping him and then scooping him the rest of the way onto the table.
“Ooof!” The padded surface of the changing table broke his fall, but the sudden impact and the shock still knocked some air out of his lungs. “Huh?” Dominik gasped and blinked. This wasn’t feeling like a dream.
Rhea capitalized and worked Dom’s hands into something that was uncommon on changing tables meant for actual tables: two wrist cuffs. “There we go,” she smiled maliciously. “This will keep the baby safe.”
“Baby?” He still couldn’t believe what was going on. This had to be a dream. There was no way that his senses could be showing him what they were showing him. Wasting no time, Rhea dug her hands into the waistband of Dominik’s pants and stripped them off his body as quickly as a magician removing a table cloth. Shoes, socks, jeans, and underwear were all off and on the floor in less than two seconds.
The feeling of cold air on his cock. The sensation of smooth vinyl cushions on his bare ass. The way the cuffs around his wrists chafed and stopped him from sitting up. The gleefully malicious grin on Rhea’s face.
“Awwww!” Rhea giggled. “Mami’s widdle boy must be cold.” She reached down, took out an adult diaper stacked beneath the changing table, and unfolded it. “Maybe this will help him feel more comfy womfy!”
Holy shit! This was real! This was too real!
“Rhea?!” Dom yelped. “What are you doing?!”
“It’s Mami, now.” Rhea said, taking an extra pad- a booster-and adding it to the front of the diaper. “Ma-mi. Can you say that for her? Mami? Ma. Mi.”
Was she serious? Dom chuckled despite everything. “Rhea…”
The resulting smack to his naked thighs would have gotten a pop from the audience had there been one (Thank God there wasn’t one). Pain and reflexes caused Dom to arc his back and thrust his hips, instinctively jumping away from the pain. “Yow!”
Rhea took the opening and slid the open diaper underneath Dominik’s rump just as it was coming back down to the mat. “Nuh-uh. It’s Mami now, Dom-Dom. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” A cloud of baby powder sprinkled down over his junk while she shook his head. “Yes it is! Yes it is! Only a baby would keep calling me Mami all day and all night!”
Oh no. Too late, Dom understood that he’d taken this ‘Mami’ thing too far. “Rhea, I-!” The resulting smack risked leaving a bruise. “Ma-miiiiii!” She seemed to enjoy hearing that name come from him. “Mami!” he tried again. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
Rhea took the front of the adult diaper and hoisted it up between his legs. “Hold still, baby,” she said. “I know it’s hard, but you only have to lay there for four seconds. “Just one second longer than you’re used to.”
Oooof…that comment stung almost as much as the slap to his thigh, but she was true to her word.
“One…two…three…four! All done!” Four seconds. One for each tape on the snug new diaper. On some level Dominik hoped he was actually dreaming. He craned his neck and looked at the waistband of his diaper. The pastel colored blocks stenciled in just below his belly button spelled B-A-B-Y over and over again.
He didn’t know that.
“Mami!” He repeated, his desperation mounting. “Please! Let me out of this! I’m sorry!”
“Sorry?” Rhea sweetly mocked him. “What’s there to be sorry about? It’s natural for baby boys like you to call the women who take care of them ‘Mami’. Isn’t it?” She dug into her pocket with one hand and took out her cell phone. With the other she pushed the t-shirt and hoodie Dominik had fallen asleep in high up to his chest so that nothing was obstructing the view of his diaper.
“What are you-?”
“Sh-sh-sh-sh” she said. Aiming the phone so that his crotch and face were in full view. “It’s important for Mami to have some baby pictures of her widdle Dom-Dom.” The clicking sound gave proof that it wasn’t a bluff. “Aaaaaand send!”
“Send?! Send where?!”
Two pinging sounds echoed from somewhere in the house. The sound of rapid feet slapping in.
A head of dyed blonde hair came into view. Alexa stormed in, wearing only a loose t-shirt (as far as Dom could tell). “Eeeeeeeeee!” she squealed. “So precious! Why didn’t you wake me up? I told you to wake me up!” She was jumping like Dom was a new puppy that she wanted to play with. “Is he wet yet?” Her hand reached out and groped him through the padding of his diaper hard enough to where he could feel it through all the padding. “I’m bad with baby stuff! I can’t tell!”
“Sorry,” Rhea apologized to her. “I didn’t know how fussy he’d be first thing in the morning. I just got him changed.”
“Was he wet when you got him up?”
“No,” Rhea replied. “I think we got lucky.”
Dom tried to interject. “Guys-?”
“Dom-Dom,” Rhea cut him off. “Adults are talking.”
A second pair of footsteps preceded Bailey barging in. She was more dressed than Alexa, but her outfit was still extremely casual. “Awwww!” she said. “I missed the first change!”
“No you didn’t,” Alexa giggled. “Dom-Dom was dry when his Mami got him up!” This ‘Mami’ rib was getting less and less funny.
Bailey muscled her way to the spot by Dominik’s waist. She slid two fingers past the leakguards of his diaper and frowned. “Darn. Still dry.”
Dom had fantasized about pretty girls touching him down there. Just not like this!
Rhea fiddled with the restraints by his wrists. “Well he better keep dry for as long as he can. Nappies are expensive. I’m not changing his soggy bum until much later today.”
“But I thought if you left a baby wet for too long,” Bailey teased, “they’d be harder to potty train.”
Alexa piled on, “I don’t think that matters as much for someone like Dom-Dom!”
“That’s right,” Rhea agreed in the same cooing motherese she’d woken him up with. “By the time he’s ready for the big boy potty, Dom-Dom won’t even remember all this, he’s so widdle!”
Dominik said nothing. He waited till the wrist cuffs were loosened enough, then slipped his hands out and punched up for Rhea’s head. Nothing too serious, mind you. Knocking someone out is incredibly difficult to do in the best of circumstances; impossible from lying down. Yet when a rib goes too far, sometimes the best way to get it to stop is to show that you’re done fucking around.
It didn’t matter if he was done with this and his new Mami wasn’t inclined to be gentle. Full rested and alert, Rhea parried the blow and leaned away from the swing. She grabbed his arm and dragged him off the table.
“Ow-ow-ow-ow!”
Before he knew it, Dom was on his feet, but maneuvered back around so that his face was pressing down in the same general spot that his ass had been. Rhea had him in an armbar. A real one.
“Awwww….did baby Dom-Dom lose his balance?” she taunted. “Is he not thinkin’ things through again? That’s okay. His Mami will explain.” She cranked the arm just enough to keep him in pain. “Mami and her friends are gonna take lots of pictures.” The sound of whirring and clicks behind him reminded him of his diapered status and his lack of privacy. “If Dom-Dom is a good baby, none of his big boy friends will have to find out about this. If he’s naughty, he’s gonna get hurt, poor boy. If he’s VERY naughty, all his friends are gonna see the pictures.” She paused for effect. “Understand?”
They had him by the balls, figuratively and literally. He wasn’t getting away. By herself Rhea would be a fight. No way he was getting out of this with Alexa and Bailey at her beck and call. Even if he did slip and slink away without a fight, those pictures could end up with every guy in the locker room. Worse yet, Twitter!
Defeated and somewhat resigned, he growled out a reluctant “Yes, Ma’am.”
“What was that?” She cranked on his arm again.
“Mami!” He cried out. “Yes, Mami! Sorry, Mami!”
The pain stopped and Dom got his arm back. “Good baby.” She side-stepped up behind him and took the rest of his clothes off just as he was getting the full motion back in his shoulder.,
Dom was forced to examine himself, afraid to touch the white plastic shell taped around his hips. Afraid to touch the baby blocks right above his crotch.
“Where’d you get this stuff?”
“Mami has her ways,” Rhea said. “Come on. Up you go!” She hefted him up onto her hip. “There’s a good boy!” Whether it was his wrestling training or some kind of long buried instinct, Dominik helped Rhea, jumping with the lift and wrapping his legs around her waist so that he was supporting some of his weight.
She carried him out of the adult sized nursery, seemingly unbothered by his weight. “Ladies, why don’t you go get dressed for the day and get the pram ready while I give Dom-Dom his brekkies.”
“Can we help get him dressed?” Alexa asked.
“Oh I’ve got the cutest outfit out of the stuff we got him.” Bailey chimed in. “It’s got a little sailor hat and everything!”
“Sailor suit? Really?,” Alexa scoffed. “Do you want people to think it’s a costume? What about those overalls I saw? They’ve got the cutest mickey prints on them!”
“Overalls?” Bailey balked. “Tell me you don’t know babies without telling me you don’t know babies. Do you know how hard it would be to change him? Those don’t even have any snaps on them!”
Change him?!
Did that mean they expected him to use the diaper as more than just very puffy underwear?!
Dominik felt like crawling into a hole and dying just listening to them talk.
Rhea carried Dom to the open kitchen and boosted him up into a highchair. For a quarter of a second, Dominik worried that more than just food would be going inside him. He let out a worried “Yip” when he felt a protrusion press up against the back of his diaper.
“Scooch scooch scooch” Rhea clucked, and kept pushing him further back in the seat. What he foolishly thought was some kind of plug was merely a protrusion, a dull horn like on a horse’s saddle.
Dom had been in higher spots before. The chair wasn’t even top turnbuckle height. It was still disconcerting and disorienting that he could be fully seated while looking Rhea in the eye. His feet were dangling too. Damn. He couldn’t even come close to remembering the last time his feet were dangling.
He was distracted enough and relieved at the same time that Rhea was able to slide a feeding trade in front of him and secure it into place with a simple latch mechanism just out of reach. Rhea reached up and out and pinched his cheeks. “Is Mami’s baby boy ready for some brekkies?”
Dominik didn’t immediately reply. Pride, embarrassment, and confusion mixed with adrenaline and the psychological need to cook up a snarky comeback made it so that all he did was stutter and stammer like a car. “Bi…Buh…Uh…nnnnnnn…”
Rhea went for the other cheek. “Bububububub. Someone’s not quite a talker yet, is he?” This only made Dominik bury his face deep into the palms of his hands. Unconcerned, Rhea left him and opened up the freezer. “Let’s give baby some waffles!”
The diapered Dom quickly found she had good reason to be unconcerned. He couldn’t get out. The protruding horn made it so he couldn’t slide out of the seat. The tray was so low that he couldn’t slip his legs back up into the seat. Trapped! Trapped by simple physics!
If she wanted to, she could leave him here. Leave him all day. Trapped. He squeezed his legs together and felt as much as he heard the crinkle and felt the thick padding between them. In his humiliation he’d already forgotten how badly he needed to go to the bathroom. Well, he remembered now.
“Rhea?” Dominik called out. “Rhea?” His on camera lover ignored him, content and intent on the toasting of frozen waffles. “Rhea?” She was practically deaf to his calls. Except for maybe… “Mami?”
Rhea perked up and came right over. “Awwww!” She squealed. “He can talk!” She clapped her hands together, mock applauding him like he’d just said his first real world. Then she said, “Yes, Dom Dom?”
‘Dom Dom’ squirmed in the highchair. His mind hyperfocusing on certain dreadful inevitabilities. “You’re not going to just leave me in here all day, right?”
Dominik did not like the grin that spread across her face. He feared he’d just given her an idea. “Of course not, Dom Dom!” she said. “Didn’t you hear Mami talking to the girls? Mami’s gonna feed you breakfast, and then she’s gonna get you dressed.”
“Can I go to the bathroom between then?” he asked, feeling terribly childish in the asking. It had been forever since he’d needed to ask such a thing.
Rhea paused and cocked her head to the side. “Bathroom?” She mused. “Oh Dom Dom. You’re much too little to go potty!” Dom felt his heart rocket up into his throat. “Just make your tinkles in your nappy, Dom Dom. Mami will change you when you need it.”
“Rhea! Come on!” Dominik protested. “This is ridiculous!” He was screaming almost as much as his bladder was.
The Australian woman stopped. “Call me ‘Rhea’ one more time and find out what happens.” The threat was made with a smile. It was still very much a threat.
Beat and nearly broken, Dominik switched to begging. “I’m sorry I kept calling you Mami off camera! Just let me out of this!”
A hollow, metallic ka-thick sounded off. The waffles had just popped out of the toaster “Time for brekkies widdle Dom Dom!” Rhea walked around the back of the highchair, out of Dominik’s line of sight. The highchair’s wide back made it useless to try and look behind him. “You don’t have to apologize,” she called out. “You were just doing what came naturally, weren’t you?” Her voice pitched up another octave. “Weren’t you? Weren’t you Dom Dom? Weren’t you?”
Dominik had no idea if he was being genuinely asked or taunted. “Yes…?”
“See?” Rhea cooed behind him. “Then you have nothing to worry about. Mami isn’t mad. She just wants to take care of you!” From behind, a bib was draped over Dominik’s chest and fastened around his neck. Like everything else it was comparatively massive. Dom could have used it as an apron or so he reckoned. “And I’ll get you out of your highchair as soon as you’re done eating your yummy waffles.”
She practically danced back around into Dominik’s line of sight. She placed a plate on the highchair feeding tray. It was purple, and plastic, like something a little kid might eat off of. The waffles, likewise, were equally unsophisticated. They were store bought and frozen; practically bread hockey pucks. Thankfully, Rhea made up for it by smearing them with butter and drowning them in syrup; she wasn’t that cruel.
Only one problem. “Where’s the silverware?” A terrible realization dawned on him. “You’re going to make me eat with my hands, aren’t you?”
“Of course not,” Rhea laughed. She took the dull knife and fork and waggled them mockingly in front of him. “Mami just has to cut up your waffles into smaller bites for you, so you don’t choke.”
Dominik was forced to sit there, diapered and bibbed, his bladder screaming, while Rhea sectioned off his food into individual bite-sized pieces. His waiting was not rewarded. As soon as the waffles were appropriately shredded, Rhea ditched the knife and jabbed a piece with the fork.
“Okie dokie. Open up! Heeeeere comes the choo-choo!”
“I can feed myself,” Dominik insisted.
“Look at him!” She gushed as if he couldn’t understand simple English. “Thinks he can feed his self! Choooooo-chooooo!” Dominik blushed hot and opened his mouth anyways.
The first bit of bready breakfast entered his mouth. He chewed. And swallowed.
“Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-chooooo!”
The second one came. He accepted it and swallowed. At least the waffles weren’t half bad. Laying idly on the trail, his hands and fingers anxiously twitched. What did real babies do with their hands?
Dominik didn’t have time to ponder that question, overmuch. The third piece darted for his mouth just as he was done swallowing. Then the fourth. Then the fifth. The train was picking up steam. Dom opened his mouth before he swallowed, with more syrupy buttery bread mashed into a pulp being shoved down his throat.
Then again. Then again.
Soon the first few crumbs slipped out and tumbled down his bib “Whoops!” Rhea said. “I guess that’s why babies wear bibs.” She didn’t slow down. Dominik kept chewing and swallowing as fast as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough. Rhea would shove the blunted fork between his lips time and time again. If he had enough room in his mouth to accommodate, he did. If not…”Whoops!”
When the food was gone, and he swallowed the last bits, Dominik was left panting, the frozen waffles having been oddly filling. If not for his aching bladder, he’d have been tempted to lie back down and go back to sleep. That would mean getting locked inside a crib, he realized.
He stared down at his plate in contemplation and got insult added to his injured pride. A goofy smiley face, with googly eyes and a crooked smile laughed. He’d been eating from a toddler’s plate. “Yaaaaay!” Rhea clapped again. “Good job Dom Dom!”
“Thank you,” he panted. “Can I-?
“Thank you…?” Rhea put her hands on her hips. She was waiting for him to say something else.
Dom sighed. “Thank you, Mami.”
“Good baby!” A bottle was shoved directly in Dom’s face. “Now wash it all down!”
“But I have to-!” Dominik was cut off with the nipple and a warning look before he could get the sentence out. He took the bottle and started chugging, less from thirst and more from willpower.
“That’s right,” Rhea praised him. “Drink it up. Make your ba-ba all gone.”
Dom’s thirst was quenched after less than five sips of the heavy, creamy stuff. From there it was pure torment. Every gulp and glug filled an already full stomach, making Dominik feel bloated and overfull. His already screaming bladder kept filling, feeling like it was going to pop like a water balloon.
This was no ordinary baby bottle either. Most baby bottles were small and didn’t hold much. Less than a can of soda. If the markings just beyond Dominik’s nose were accurate (and there was no reason for him to believe otherwise) this was a full thirty-two ounces!.
Dominik felt every single drop.
“Done!” He gasped when he was finally sucking on air. “Fin-UUUUUUUUUUUUUURK!” He’d meant to say finished, but the bubbles in his stomach had other ideas.
Rhea’s eyes widened with the delight of a new idea. “Baby needs burping!”
The bib was removed, the latch was undone, and the highchair tray was removed. Dominik wanted to make a break for it, but his stomach was so full and his muscles yet ached, so he was left with no choice but to fall back into his Mami’s grasp.
Rhea wasted no time beating the young man across the back. Some of them were hard enough that if he’d been performing, Dom would have taken a dive to the mat in order to sell the impact.
“UUURP!”
“URRRP!”
“URRRP!”
“AWWWWWWW!”
Dominik stiffed in Rhea’s grasp. Rhea turned with him to show. Alexa and Bailey had come out of their rooms, fully dressed, and had whipped out their phones. “Got it?”
“Got his cute little butt getting burped!” Alexa laughed. The day had barely begun and the three of them were compiling a lifetime’s worth of blackmail material on him.
Bailey put her phone down long enough to say, “Sad we didn’t get out in time to see him in that highchair.”
“That just means we’ll have to find a reason to use it later,” Rhea smirked. “Got an outfit picked out?”
From behind her back, Alexa took out a bright blue onesie, the world “Mommy’s Boy” emblazoned on it in white blocky font.
“It’s not spelled right,” Rhea nodded, “but it’ll do.” She started walking back towards the nursery.
“Mami!” Dom yelped. “I gotta go to the bathroom!” He’d done everything she’d said. Surely she’d let him have this if he was determined enough.
Rhea didn’t break her stride. “Awww, that’s cute. But I already told you Dom Dom. You’re not potty trained.”
“But I ate my breakfast!” Dom said, panic rising with his mounting discomfort. “You said-!”
“I said I’d get you out of the highchair when you were done,” she countered. “And I did.”
Dom was roughly deposited sitting on the changing table. Only an act of supreme willpower kept more than a dribble from ending up in Dom’s plastic backed panties. Even that tiny trickle was enough to tempt the young man.
The onesie was pulled roughly over Dominik’s head. He didn’t get his arms through the sleeves before he was roughly shoved back down onto the padded bench, causing another agonizing trickle.
He would not do this. He would not do this. He would not do this.
Rhea hooked both legs to boost his hips and yanked the back of the onesie up and over. Four button snaps later. Dominik somehow looked even more babyish than when he was wearing just the diaper.
“I think he should wear that to the ring,” Bailey teased.
“Full agree,” Alexa smiled.
If Rhea disagreed, she didn’t disabuse her cohorts. “Everything ready?”
“Mhm,” Alexa nodded. “Carriage is nice and cozy, with extra blankets.”
Carriage?! Like a baby buggy? The kind that only the smallest babies rode in? Not even a stroller?! How the hell-?
“I packed his diaper bag,” Bailey added, with overmuch enthusiasm.
Dominik felt like swallowing his own tongue. Wriggling his arms into the onesie’s sleeves and tried to sit up. “We’re not going to the arena are we?”
Rhea’s palm and Dom’s terror were all that were needed to keep him down. “Awww, wook at him wonderin’!” She taunted. “No, Dom Dom. Mami’s not taking you there. That’s much too far away. We’re going somewhere else.”
“Where?”
Her eyes twinkled malevolently. Out from underneath the changing table, Rhea revealed one last article of clothing: A bright blue, frilly baby bonnet. Grinning like a cheshire cat that swallowed the canary, she tied it around Dom’s head. The transformation was complete.
She picked him up once more and hefted him to the front door. “Why doesn’t Mami show you?”
(To be continued…)
*******************************************************************************
Comments
Ryan
Probably showing my age and my wrestling nerd status but will this lead to the return of the Cry Baby Match (Razor Ramon vs 1-2-3 Kid, In your house 6 if anyones interested)
Pelo Dee
I don't know much about the wrestling world, but all the little details around their outside-the-ring life makes it believable as heck. Really nice! We'll see where that goes. 😀
