Vibe Check Champion (Chapter 9)

[Link to previous chapter](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/pqbe7x/vibe_check_champion_chapter_8/)

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## Chapter 9

The instant I limped out of the kitchen, all three of them couldn’t believe how hilarious the wet spot was on my crotch.

“Quiet, quiet!” Mom swatted her arm in the air, trying to silence all the giggles. “I can’t hear what he’s saying.”

“It’s almost as big as the X!” Trista said as her and Aunt Sally laughed even louder.

Mom smacked Trista’s arm and gave her a glare, then looked back at me. “Are you okay, honey?”

I sighed. “I said I’m going upstairs.”

“Nonsense.” Mom sat up, making me a plate. “The 2nd movie just started, we can rewind it for you.”

“I don’t think that’s a very good—”

“Queen’s orders!” Mom glared at me. “Or am I going to have to use one of my free hits on you?”

“That’ll be hilarious, Mom!” Trista rolled over from her usual indent. “Then you could hit him for real, instead of that fake one from last night. Your foot was like a mile away!”

“Eat with us. It’ll be great,” Aunt Sally said as she patted the couch. “So you can sit right next to your favorite aunt—”

“—or get kicked in the X by Mom!” Trista rolled around on the carpet and couldn’t stop laughing.

“How about none,” I said, grabbing the food from Mom, then sat down on the carpet outside the couch.

Mom threw her foot-pillow at Trista. “And for your information, it was *not* a mile away, it was by his knees. Those were promotional photos to say 0 points! What are you going to say next, I was hovering above his shoulder blades?”

“Nope,” Aunt Sally said, “you actually were standing on them in that picture. Both feet too. I made sure of it.”

“You see? Even your aunt agrees my attacks are real!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Trista whipped out her camera and pointed it at Mom. “Maybe I should have this thing running for behind-the-scenes footage all the time.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mom said in her best British accent. “A queen doesn’t ever act in such a manner.” She glared at Trista and stopped the accent. “Now give me back my foot-pillow.”

I started eating my food as fast as possible, before getting sucked into one of their crazy—

The foot-pillow flopped over the couch.

“Trista,” Mom said, “why did you whip it so hard?”

“It’s hard to throw one-handed.”

“Maybe she learned her pitching skills from you,” Aunt Sally said.

“Ahhh, yes,” Mom said in her accent, “the time I got him in the *stomach* for 5 points.” Mom stood on the couch and snapped her fingers in my direction. “Servant Bobby, can you grab my royal foot-pillow and deliver it to me post-haste?”

I crawled over and flipped it over the couch. There was absolutely no way I was going to deal with their—

“Thank you, servant,” Mom said as she looked down at me, presenting her hand. “And now give your queen a kiss!”

I stood on my knees and stared up at her. “I am sorry, your highness, I’m but a short man. I can’t even reach—”

“Then kiss this!” She placed her foot on the back of the couch.

I stared up at her in disbelief, then I looked back down at her wiggling toes, then back up at her. “There’s no way I’m kissing a foot!”

Mom got out of character. “It’s either kiss the foot or we all reshoot the behind-the-scenes from last night. Your choice.”

“I vote for reshoot!” Aunt Sally said. “I came up with a funnier pose this morning.”

I let out a groan. “Okay, okay, but only if Trista turns off the camera.”

“Trista!” Mom glared at her.

“Fine, fine,” Trista said, “the camera’s off. I promise.”

Mom smiled as she looked back down at me. “Now give your queen a royal kiss!”

I leaned over and pecked Mom’s foot, which caused her to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Thank you, servant.” She placed her foot on my head and waved to an imaginary crowd. “All royal subjects must kiss my foot or face my wrath!”

“Watch out, nuts!” Aunt Sally screamed out.

All three of them burst into laughter as Mom stepped back on the couch and picked up the target foot-pillow.

“I think I thought of the perfect behind-the-scenes set of pictures!” Mom pointed to the floor. “I thought of it when Bobby was on his knees.”

“What is it?” Trista asked as she prepped her camera.

“Bobby, come stand here.” She wiggled her finger some more. “My foot was *not* a mile away, but I think it’ll be easier to kick higher if I’m standing up here! A queen should always be over her subjects.”

“Oh no!” I said, making my way towards the steps with my plate of food, taking as many bites as I could. “No way, no how!”

“It’ll just take another second,” Aunt Sally said.

“Yeah,” Trista said, “then you can go eat and do whatever.”

Mom put on her strongest voice. “And if you don’t come here this instant, I’ll hit you in your sleep!”

“And I’ll record!” Trista burst into laughter.

“So what’ll it be?” Mom said, staring down at me. “I get to kick my target now? Or two sleeping hits?”

I groaned, then made my way back to where she pointed as all three of them clapped and cheered.

“Hold this there.” She placed the target pillow over my crotch, then gave the camera a smile. “Double points! And we wouldn’t want any online people to see that embarrassing water stain.”

I stared up at Mom as she stood at full-height. She seemed super excited as she took a few steps back and forth.

“Okay, now get on your tippy-toes, and—”

Her foot crashed through the pillow, crushing both of my balls against the top of her foot. I curled against her leg, falling to my knees and wondering why I was stupid enough to agree to this.

“Oh my goodness, honey!” Mom began petting my head, gently lowering me onto the couch. “I went to take a step back just like yesterday, and my foot got caught between the cushions!”

“That was the perfect free hit, Mom!” Trista said, staring into her camera. “Your knee actually smashed his stomach for real this time.”

“Great distracting him with the target.” Aunt Sally giggled. “And his reaction is true. Knees really hurt. He’ll probably be down for the count.”

“Should knees count as different points?”

“Maybe we can get photos of every type.”

I curled over and wanted to die as Mom gently placed my head down on the couch.

“Trista,” Mom snapped her fingers, “get the ice packs. Sally, go in the kitchen and help her.”

I groaned into the cushions as Mom leaned down and whispered in my ear.

“We can’t let them know about your nuggets. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Agreed,” I eventually said.

“I think I know a way out.” Mom gave my back a few rubs. “Just follow my lead.”

Right now, I’d agree to almost anything if it got me out of here faster, so I nodded yes.

When both of them came back, Mom laid back down.

“Oh, servant!” Mom said in her accent as she pressed her toes in my back. “Since you are already down there, how about you be my footrest?”

Aunt Sally smirked. “Not like he’s going anywhere.”

“Hey,” Trista said, “now we can get another photo! How much was that? 30 points?”

“But it has to be on his head!” Mom broke character as she rested her heels on my upper back.

“No way!” I said. “I’m not having my face be in that photo.”

“Then you can kiss these ice packs goodbye.” Trista waved them in my direction.

“What if we cover him with these?” Mom said as she grabbed both smelly foot-pillows. “Then nobody will know who it is.”

“And you’ll be comfy for the movie too,” Trista said.

“Exactly.” Mom tossed the pillows onto my back, then used her feet to put it in place. “Can you see his face from that end?”

My face squished into the pillows, poofing little puffs of stench into my nose as Mom rested both feet on me.

“Perfect,” Trista said as she prepped her camera. “Say cheese!”

“It’s great to be queen!”

Two more feet landed on my back.

“Now do me!” Aunt Sally said, bouncing her heels onto my spine. “Wow, you’re right, he does make a super footrest.”

“Sally, get your smelly feet off of—”

“Trista,” Aunt Sally’s toes dug into my ribs, “you have got to try this after you take my photo.”

“Now,” Trista said as she took a few shots, “put your feet in a V.”

All four feet shifted on me as I grunted.

“Perfect!” Trista took a few more, then the cushions compressed around me. “Mom, can you take my picture from that end?”

“Sure,” Mom said as Trista used my head as a step, knocking the pillow off my face. “When we’re all ready, say cheese! You too, Bobby!”

Trista sat on the back of the couch, pressing both sets of toes on my cheek as I tried my best to speak.

“Family Footrest!” Mom yelled louder than everyone else, then smirked as she showed Aunt Sally the photo. “Let’s keep that one a secret between us.”

Aunt Sally jammed her toes against my buttcheek while Trisha turned on the movie.

Mom looked down at me with a defeated look. “Well, since it looks like my servant will still be recovering for a while and it’s Aunt Sally’s last night… How about we just finish this movie instead?”

Mom mouthed she was sorry, then massaged her feet on my head.

“Is your *stomach* feeling any better, honey?”

I groaned into the cushions as I sneakily lowered the ice packs between my legs. They were still warm from earlier, but hopefully would be better than nothing.

“Watching TV like this is great, Mom.” Trista wiggled her toes on my shoulders. “You should knee him more often.”

“Maybe I will, maybe I will.” Mom giggled. “And I *do* love having a footrest…”