BabySitter Substitute

I got a call for a baby-sitter from a new couple in the area. I was rather surprised as I'd taken my name off the local baby-sitter list. I asked then how they got my name and they said another sitter had suggested me. She couldn't make it this weekend but thought that I might.

I thought it over and decided why not? It wasn't as though I had anything else planned for that night. Then I gave Melanie a call and asked her how come she'd suggested me. She giggled and explained.

"Um, I nominated you for two reasons," she told me. "First, the Jacksons want an older person to baby-sit. They don't like having to entrust their little angel to what they consider to be a child. Apart from me you're about the only one over eighteen who can still be used as an emergency sitter. Their little angel is a sweetie, you know. You'll find her no trouble."

"And the second reason?" I prompted.

"Um, yeah, that second reason. Let's just say that I thought it might be an interesting experience for you."

"Let's not. Let's explain exactly why you think it would be an interesting experience for me."

"Yeah, well, ah, the Jacksons are what they call free spirits and very physically orientated."

"That tells me nothing. Stop beating about the bush. Elucidate. That means tell me more."

"I knew that," grumbled Melanie. "Well, the last time I was there, and it was definitely the last time, the Jacksons had a bit of a squabble. You couldn't call it a fight. Just a minor difference of opinion. Anyway, Mr Jackson turned out to be right. He looked something up on Google and showed Mrs Jackson.

Mrs Jackson admitted that she was in error and he laughed and said he was calling penalty. Mrs Jackson just shrugged and smirked.

Would you fucking believe it? He made her bend over the end of the couch, right there, with me watching, pulled down her panties and spanked her. It wasn't much of a spanking, but to do that with me watching. And she didn't care.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he then unzipped and whipped out his cock. It was sticking right up. It looked enormous. Then he proceeded to fuck Mrs Jackson, completely ignoring me.

I tell you, my face must have been so red. I've never been so embarrassed in my life. That's why I'm not going back there to sit. Anyway, when they came around looking for a sitter I thought of you. If you go along you may get a bit of an education."

I was feeling rather shocked myself. Whoever heard of such behaviour?

"Didn't you say anything to them?"

"I didn't have to. Mrs Jackson noticed me blushing and asked what the problem was. I just sort of waved my hand in the general direction of the couch and stuttered. She just laughed and dismissed the whole thing. Sex is perfectly natural, she said. Everyone does it and she sees no reason to hide the fact. Well, she's entitled to her opinion, but I'm entitled to mine and I'm not sitting for them again. But I thought you might like to, though probably only once."

"Um," I said. "I've already accepted. I'll have to think on this. I may develop a timely dose of the flu."

"Or," said Melanie with a giggle, "you might go along and get an education."

"Or," I agreed, "I might go long and see what happens."

I finished up going to the Jacksons. I mean, Melanie might have been having me on but, even if she wasn't, I didn't seriously expect anything untoward to happen.

Melanie had been right about the kid. She was a little sweetheart, happy and easily pleased. When I finally tucked her into bed she just went right to sleep, a smile on her face. I went and watched TV and chatted to various friends. SMS is a wonderful invention.

The Jacksons came home and they seemed to be in a happy mood. They were chatting and laughing and no tiffs in site. I wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or not. Looking at Mr Jackson I noted that he was rather a large man. All things being equal, if he was as impressive genitally as he was generally, I didn't mind missing out on seeing his big fat dong.

(I'd had a second discussion with Melanie before I decided to do the job. She'd been rather explicit about a certain genital feature which she'd found most impressive. Not that I considered her to be a good judge. I'm pretty sure she was still a virgin. Any cock would probably seem impressive to her.)

Mrs Jackson asked if I'd like some coffee before I left as it was a little cool outside. I agreed and Mr Jackson told us to bring it through to the front room when it was ready. There was something he wanted to catch on the TV.

Mrs Jackson and I chatted while she made the coffee then we brought the pot into the front room and Mrs Jackson poured us all a cup. Mr Jackson joined in the talk but I noticed that both the Jacksons were keeping one eye (or ear) on the news, apparently waiting for some item.

I finished off my coffee and started making going home noises. Mrs Jackson fished out an envelope with my baby-sitting money and I was good to go. I was about to leave when some item came up on the news and Mr Jackson gave a small cry of triumph, which was matched by Mrs Jackson muttering a swear word under her breath. (I was close enough to hear it.)

"I call penalty," said Mr Jackson.

Time for me to be elsewhere, I decided. My goodbye was interrupted by Mrs Jackson.

"I knew you weren't listening when I told you earlier," she said, sounding annoyed. "If you're calling penalty then I'm calling substitute."

I paused, curious. Melanie hadn't said anything about a substitute.

"Eh? What'd I miss?" asked Mr Jackson.

"Wrong time of the month, sweetheart," said Mrs Jackson smiling. "Are you still calling penalty?"

"Already called it," said Mr Jackson. "Are you sticking with a substitute?"

"I am," giggled Mrs Jackson.

"Cynthia is the only other person here," pointed out Mr Jackson.

"True, but Cyn is such a delightful name."

I'm like, say what? What have I got to do with their games? I found out fast enough. Mr Jackson got up and crossed to where Mrs Jackson and I were standing. I naturally thought he was coming for Mrs Jackson. You can imagine my shock when he took hold of my arm.

"Come here a moment, Cynthia," he said, drawing me over to the couch.

I'm like, "What? What?" and he calmly sat on the couch, still holding my arm. Then he pulled on it and I found myself falling across his knee.

"Don't worry about it, Cynthia," called Mrs Jackson. "He just feels honour bound to smack my bottom and I've nominated you to take it for me. It won't hurt. It's mainly undignified."

Undignified is a bit of a get out. Downright embarrassing would be more to the point. Before I could say anything, that pig slapped me on the bottom.

I'm not saying it hurt, because it didn't. Not really. It was just the shock of the fact that he'd dare do it. I promptly protested and oddly enough Mrs Jackson protested, too. I shut up to hear what she had to say.

"Come on, sweetie," she snapped at him. "That's not how you do it and you know it."

"Alright," he snapped back. "Then you do the honours."

I'm wondering what the hell and then I found out. I was wearing yoga pants. They're quite warm and it was a bit cool out and probably getting cooler. Just like that I wasn't wearing yoga pants. Mrs Jackson grabbed them and just pulled them down. OK. I still had them on, but around my ankles can't be considered wearing them.

If that wasn't bad enough, Mrs Jackson had also collected my panties on the way down. I just didn't realise that. How did I find out? Mr Jackson gave me another spank and I was very acutely aware that it was on my naked bottom.

I kicked and squealed and Mr Jackson spanked my bottom. I just didn't believe that this was happening. Melanie hadn't mentioned anything like this. Had she deliberately left it out, I wondered? It wasn't as though I could ask her without admitting I got my own bottom spanked. (And while it was bare.)

Melanie and Mrs Jackson had both lied or been mistaken about one thing. It smarted. No single spank worried me, but the accumulative effect was leaving my bottom red and stinging. I was squealing and kicking and a fat lot of good that did me.

When Mr Jackson put me back on my feet I was furious. I was red of face and red of bottom and red of temper. I just stood there, holding my bottom, spluttering, not knowing what to say. (Yes. I knew my yoga pants and my panties were still down around my ankles and that the Jacksons could see all, but what the hell? They'd already seen all when I was getting spanked. Right now I was more concerned with rubbing my bottom.)

"You just see if I baby-sit for you again," was about the only thing I could think to say. I'd be warning all the girls to stay away from these nutcases.

"The way she's presenting, I think she wants the rest of the penalty," Mrs Jackson announced.

Presenting? What was she on about now? I was just standing there sputtering and holding my bottom.

"Well if you're sure you don't mind," said Mr Jackson, looking at his wife and getting an encouraging nod.

A hand reached out and placed itself upon my pussy and I understood. Mr Jackson was seated on the couch and I was standing bang in front of him, holding my bottom, pants still around my ankles. All he had to do was reach and touch, so he did.

My sputtering fury went up a notch but that didn't do much good. Mr Jackson removed his hand from my pussy, stood up and took my elbow again. He moved me to the end of the couch and pushed me forward over it. Mrs Jackson sat down on the couch and grabbed my wrists.

"Don't worry," she told me. "He's good at this. You'll enjoy it."

I remembered what Melanie had said about Mr Jackson bending Mrs Jackson over the end of the couch and fucking her. He couldn't intend on doing that to me, could he? I turned my head to look at him and his trousers were already on the way down and I had to admit that Melanie might have been right about his size.

Not that I was sticking around to find out. I gave a squawk and tried to straighten up but I was in an awkward position. Bent over the couch I couldn't get my weight behind my pulling and Mrs Jackson help my wrists quite easily. I tried to move sidewards off the arm of the couch but Mr Jackson was there. Somehow, I just knew that this wasn't the first time they'd pulled this stunt. It also explained why they wanted older baby-sitters.

Mr Jackson quite easily forced my legs further apart. I could feel his fingers dragging my lips apart and I was squealing and protesting, and when I felt his cock brushing against my lips my squealing and protesting kicked up a notch, I can assure you.

Oddly enough, I found I was already slightly aroused and slightly wet, probably because of that spanking and knowing a man was looking at my naked pussy. That didn't mean I was ready to start handling a cock, especially one that seemed as though it might be a little on the large size.

Like that stopped him. From holding my lips open, and just brushing against them with his cock, he pressed forward slightly, touching the sensitive flesh inside me, letting my lips close upon him. I yowled my dismay and he pushed a little more.

In no time flat he was butting against my passage, pushing against my protection.

"Hey, sweetie, we have a virgin on our hands," Mr Jackson called to his wife.

"On your cock, I think you mean," she replied. "Just take it slowly. She can't remain a virgin all her life. Once you're in you can give her a pleasant surprise."

I tried wriggling but I wasn't getting anywhere. I could feel the pressure of his cock increasing and then something inside me gave way and I screamed and his cock went slithering further into me.

I wasn't meekly surrendering just because he'd won the first round. If he wanted in he was going to have to work at it. I did my best to squeeze my passage closed against him, twisting and writhing under him. Slowly but surely I could feel him edging his way in. He'd seem to hang there, poised, ready to take advantage of any weakness I showed, then pushing forward.

He was, I realised, enjoying the struggle. I felt rather humiliated to find that I was, too. I was being raped, for crying out loud. How could I be enjoying the struggle? I don't know, but I was. It was exciting, and it was arousing me. By the way, that arousing bit was definitely a minus in the struggle. The more aroused I became, the wetter I became, and the easier it was for him to push along my passage.

It was a hopeless cause, of course. He was going in and all I could do was slow him down a bit. That I did do. When he finally banged home that last inch we were both breathing heavily, and I could sense a bit of frustration finally satisfied in that last push.

We just stayed like that for a moment, with me feeling I'd won on points, even if I had lost the battle.

"Listen, Sweetie, remember she's a virgin. Take it easy on her at the start," Mrs Jackson piped up.

"She's a bitch and she can just take what I give her," came the snapped reply from Mr Jackson.

That was fair enough by me. Don't do me no favours, pal. I can handle anything you can dish out.

He promptly gave me cause to find out. He pulled back and thrust back in hard, almost lifting me off my feet, his groin slapping against me so hard. It was the most extraordinary feeling, having him come sliding up inside me like that. The only reason I didn't scream with the shock of it was the fact that he'd enjoy the scream.

I'm not saying that what he did hurt. It didn't. It was just different. Something that I'd never felt before and hadn't expected. (Well, how could I expect it? I was a virgin, after all. Ah, no. Strike that. I had been a virgin.)

Subsequent thrusts didn't have quite the same impact as that first frantic lunge. I could handle them with no problems. He'd come sliding up me, banging home and I did my best to give no reaction whatsoever.

I did have a couple of minor problems, I will admit. While I could handle his cock sliding along my passage, I wasn't so sure that I could handle what it was doing to me. He'd got me all excited when he took me, and I found that every thrust was building on that excitement. I could feel the heat burning in me and my blood felt as though it was boiling. Every thrust seemed to increase that heat, setting me on fire.

The other little problem I had was in the matter of not responding. I was keeping my mouth firmly closed, trying to look bored. (The bored part was mainly because I could see it was irritating Mrs Jackson.) What I couldn't control was the way I was physically reacting. After the first couple of strokes I found myself pushing back to meet him. I didn't plan to. In fact, if anything, I'd planned not to, but my body overrode my decision and I found myself humping along quite merrily.

It would be a lie to say I wasn't enjoying the whole experience. I was. Even the sheer helplessness I felt, unable to do anything to stop it, was increasing my excitement. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd have enjoyed a normal first time seduction as much. It was a lowering thought to feel that maybe I wouldn't have.

I am quite sure I'm not a sub. The main thought running through my mind was, "You bastard. I'll get you for this." To be honest that was probably the second major thought I was having. A sort of background to my main thought which was more along the lines of, "Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow. I need more."

More is what I got with Mr Jackson driving into me with great enthusiasm. The only trouble I had with that was that I was slowly but surely losing control. His cock came sliding in, his groin slapping against me, and I couldn't help the little grunt of enthusiasm that escaped my lips. Big mistake. Mr Jackson seemed to redouble his efforts and my awareness of the situation seemed to crumble.

His cock was in me. That I knew. It was moving, pleasuring me, arousing and exciting me. That I also knew. Everything else was being tuned out. It was a case of why should I think of anything else? Look at what's happening to me.

I was vaguely aware that I was gasping and encouraging him to go in harder. I couldn't help it. My whole body was now being controlled by my feelings and they were running riot, being vigorously stirred up by Mr Jackson's magic rod.

I was absolutely amazed when I climaxed, not knowing what hit me but wanting it to hit me again. Repeatedly. I felt totally boneless. When he pulled his cock out of me it was as though he'd withdrawn my supporting strings. I just sagged down against the couch, breathing hard.

I recovered fast enough. When I did I bounced to my feet in a fury, hauling my clothes into place. I glared at the Jacksons. She looked smug and he looked triumphant. There was nothing I could do about what had happened and they knew it. Police? A big scandal and no proof. My word against theirs. They could say I agreed and that they'd paid me. No matter how it came out my reputation would be ruined.

No. There was something I could do, I realised. The coffee pot was still sitting on the coffee table, half full. I grabbed it and both the Jacksons took a step back, ready to duck. That was OK. The plasma TV attached to the wall couldn't duck but if could implode very nicely when a coffee pot sailed through the screen. And there was a nice trail of spilt coffee all over the carpet and down the wall.

I didn't say anything. I just turned and walked out, ignoring the language behind me.