18 comments/ 127601 views/ 86 favorites How I Lost My Babysitting Job By: HandsInTheDark [For an absent friend.] So... I've always been a good girl. Not a perfect girl -- there's Amy and Missy for the guys looking for that. But I don't fuck around. There was that one guy when I was 17, he dumped me when he got what he wanted, and I learned from that. Since then, I've kept my legs together, and now I'm nineteen. If I'm gonna be honest... guys my age are immature jerks. They are all over me for free handouts, and that's not as flattering as they think. Amy just shakes her head in that all-grown-up fashion (she's like fifteen months older) and says I need to just learn to deal with it, that it's just the ways guys are with a hot girl. (And yeah, alright, I'll just put it out there, I'm hot. Google Katie Vernola. That's not me, but I have her face, I have better boobies, and I'm an inch taller.) But it still pisses me off. I want a guy who'll respect me, every girl wants that, but above all I want a guy who's got some style. Who can be laid back about what he wants. Hell, I'd consider a guy who didn't talk about fucking my tits on the second date, at this point. Look, I get it. The boobies, the long legs and the long blonde hair are a plus. Can we talk about anything else? I'm tired of wearing bland loose clothes just so every boy in the neighborhood won't think it's for hire. So my parents are after to me to figure out what I'm going to do with my life, since I don't have a college gig planned and I'm not in a serious relationship. I'm doing part time at Hooters (don't even fucking say it) and babysitting on the side. Hooters is good money -- the tips are like triple what you get anywhere else. Yes, I know what the word objectification means, but a lot of the guys that eat there are older and are less crude than what I see outside of work. And it's not like it's a strip club. My parents don't love it, but they are the ones charging me rent, so I have to do something. And some of the girls there have landed modeling work. So I figure it's a start. It beats saying I'm still babysitting at nineteen. You'd think babysitting would be a sucky job, but kids kind of like me, I show up when I'm supposed to, and I leave the fridge alone, and so I get a pretty good rate. It's ok work. Except one time, a new boy, maybe four years old, climbs up into my lap uninvited, stares at my breasts and starts feeling them up. And he wasn't looking for milk. I mean, shit, at age four? There's just no fucking escape from the Y chromosome. I wanted to spank the little prick, but at least he had his age as an excuse. Unlike every twenty year old guy I know who basically tries to act the same way. But still, it wasn't cute. Oh, and my name is Alona. Well, no, not really, but if you think I'm posting this under my real name, forget it. So it's a hot summer night, and I get a call for babysitting at the last minute. Not a problem. Dr. K and his wife usually ask for me every two weeks; regular work is good, so this is a customer I want to keep. And their daughter is always like "Hi, 'Allie', read me a story, ok, I'm sleepy now, goodnight" and she practically puts herself to bed. And Dr K lets me use his exercise machine as long as I put everything back the way it was. So I'm getting paid to work out. They always come home when they say they will, so I can do an hour on the machine, change out of the exercise outfit, check on the daughter, and get online and chat until they get back. Dr K pays well, too. His wife usually tells me all about the theater show they saw, which is the only dull part. I know more about Gilbert and Sullivan than anyone my age now. I'm not sure what Dr K sees in her. So... right. You can see where this is going. Part of it is, Dr K is a hunk. He's thirty, strong face, he works out, and, well, nothing he wears manages to hide his package. I've got a lot going for me, but this guy is out of my league. Which is fine, he's married and too old for me. Not too old to look at, just too old to think about. Much. So anyway, he calls, it's some kind of emergency, can I come straight over. Choking down an "anything for you, Dr K", I grab my knapsack (chance favors the prepared babysitter), and bop on out there, ten miles away. They could get someone closer -- I like the fact they use me anyway. I pull in, and they are just coming out of the house. It turns out that the wife's mom is suddenly sick, and they are driving over to check up on things. This might be a long night. As it happens, I'm not working tomorrow, so that's fine. And I'd have done it in any case. I have to stick this in. Dr K has definitely noticed I'm pretty. I've seen his eyes move over me, a couple of times. But that's it. No comments. No jackass behavior. Not even a smile. It's all subtle. Hell, I'm not sure I'm that subtle when I look at him. The wife carries a bag to the car, and Dr K hangs back to have a word. "Alona... I appreciate this. She's very worried and I'm not sure when we will be back... four hours at least. Maybe much more. Make yourself completely at home, spare bedroom, kitchen, shower, phone, whatever you need. If it's going to run into tomorrow I'll have someone over at 7am to take over." "Don't worry the hours... take whatever you need," I tell him. I swear I didn't hit that particular pose on purpose as I said it, but it came out kind of suggestive. I blushed. He didn't notice any of it. He squeezed my hand, and said "Thanks." He looked me in the eyes as he did it, and a fingertip trailed across the inside of my wrist as he let go. I didn't imagine it, and I blushed hotter. Then he was gone. I got inside and breathed until the blush faded. It had been a single fingertip, for fuck's sake. It could have been accident. On an impulse I lifted my wrist and inhaled. His cologne. Oh....... Crap. That was kind of hot. I connected up with my charge, who was a little distraught by her parents' sudden exit, and a board game and a story are needed to calm her down. To my surprise, she scoots over and leans against me as I finish the story -- first time she'd ever done that. I cuddle her in until she gets sleepy, and then convince her to get through the bedtime routine. She curls up for the night, and... I have the big, pretty house to myself for hours. Inevitably I lift my wrist again, and inhale. The scent of him is very strong. It suddenly occurs to me that he might have deliberately wet his finger with the cologne right before he touched me. Deliberately marking me with scent. Like what animals do. The blush is back. He... shit, this makes no sense. He and his wife will be back in a few hours. Emphasis on wife. Nothing was going to happen. My imagination was just running a little wild. Imagination... what would it be like, to just... imagine? I settle on the leather couch, kick my shoes off, and just let the images form. Dr K and I, meeting somewhere. Flowers. Flirting. And then the kiss. The kiss, starting gentle but turning... hot. So hot. I'm pressing my breasts against him. I mean, what would it be like to have to lure him a little? He's so controlled, I barely ever catch him looking at me; guys are always coming to me, what if Dr K knew how to make me come to him... If he knew how to make me... I was shivering. I'd just run a scene in my head that, well, no, I'm not even going to think about it again. I had no idea I was such a slut. Ok, I needed to get off this couch, find something to do. If I didn't that fantasy would be back. I, like, made it a point not to snoop in people's houses, but tonight I had hours and... why not? I started wandering. I ended up in his little home office. Leather chairs, big heavy desk, computer laptop. Which is on. Hm. It says it's locked, but I click and it just opens. No password. It doesn't take long to figure out he's got a thing for younger, chesty blondes. Hell, he's got a whole section for images of Katie Vernola alone. I can't decide if it's sick or it's hot. I think about him in here, his hand on that hunk of cock, wanting, hungering for pretty much what I see in my mirror in the morning... fuck, how did he play it out, in his mind? Did he take me from behind right over this desk? Up against a wall? Right on the floor? Would he make me ask for the privilege of being taken on a bed? I smelled the cologne again, and shook my head. I was getting worked up for nothing. Fuck, I really was pretty worked up, though. I was going to end up getting off. Wouldn't be the first time I'd gotten off while babysitting, to be honest, but it was usually to youtube videos, not thinking about the guy who was paying for my servi- Wow. No. Not even going to think about it in those terms. That would be tawdry. Cheap. Meeting in hotel rooms, making me suck his cock, open my legs, work his meat for him until he came on me, and then handing me money and dismissing me like the slutty little- Shit. Ok, "Alona", step away from the naked blondes. What else is on this computer? I found some technical papers he was working on. Way over my head, but the title of one was "Late teen sexual behaviors: self-actualization deferred", and just the title had me blinking. I didn't read it, I didn't want to know. All I could think of was him "interviewing" one hot late teen after another for his research. Hell, I was going to have to masturbate. My imagination was in flames now. And damn, had I really spent an hour in here? Shit. I better get off this computer -- wait. Browser history. Just a peek. I mean, he was a guy, there'd be porn sites, but he might have other interests... So. Girls and porn sites. Mostly they don't go together; visual porn is too explicit. Sure, I've peeked, just to see what guys like. And I'm not saying some of it isn't freaking hot. It's mostly a non-starter, though. Dr K's porn site preferences were... hell, I can't call a porn site high class. But this was more Playboy than Hustler, and the videos were all... tasteful? Hot guys seducing hot, shy girls. Some story. Some nice camera work. Some monster cocks getting licked by girls working vibrators into themselves... shit, some girls getting tied up and made to beg for it... Shuddering, I closed down the browser and locked the machine again. Fuck. My panties were soaked. I was getting paid for this? I went back to the living room, pulled out my own little laptop, and got online. I put on some music videos... when you're horny, you really end up focusing on certain kinds of music and music vids. My hand was suddenly down my pants, ooooh, yes, this wouldn't take long... oh FUCK yes... I got interrupted by a ding. Megan was online. I hardly ever ran into her, with her three hour time zone difference and crazy schedule. We caught up, but she was in a hyper mood because her boyfriend was sextting her like crazy. She shared some of the pictures he was sending her, and any other day I'd have been pretty impressed, but tonight her boyfriend was competing with Dr K in the "hot unobtainable fantasy male" category. She finally waved goodbye, admitting that her guy had gotten to her and she was going to give him what he wanted on webcam. Ok... I needed to get a grip on myself. If I start masturbating again I'll come. And then slut out online with videos, and come again. I'm not going to have an off switch this evening, not in the mood I'm in. So I wasn't going to masturbate. I was going to work out, damnit. He had his own little gym in the house, downstairs, with a shower off to the side. Whatever he did, it brought in money. He had a Jacuzzi in his bedroom, a hot little sports car. I imagined him counseling women on sexual matters... teaching them how to suck cock, making them rub his cum into their skin... it took me a couple minutes to realize every woman I imagined him with had blonde hair and a rack like mine. Right, my imagination wasn't even trying to be subtle. I stripped off the tight jeans and T shirt, put on the exercise outfit. Ok, so, the top is form-fitting lycra with a plunging neckline. I work out alone and it's one of the times that I can dress hot without getting pestered. Short shorts complete the outfit. I look at myself in the mirror he's got in here, and I'm kind of stunned by what I'm seeing. Eyes wide, nipples hardening, lips shining from the licking I hadn't realized I was doing... I mean, my body was transmitting Yes Please on all frequencies. I played with my hair, arranging it a little... Suddenly I bolted upstairs, checked on my charge, grabbed my knapsack, and went back to the mirror. I broke out the cosmetics case and started... dolling up. I mean, fuck. Most of the time when I look in a mirror, all I see are the imperfections. They are still there now, but this is the first time I've ever looked at myself when I was totally turned on. Dolling myself up in this state is just irresistible fun. I shouldn't overdo it because if I do, when they get back they'll think I had a guy over. But fuck, a little blush, a little lip gloss, let's play with the hair... I tell myself I'm not doing this for Dr K, this is just me being a woman, I'm just... enjoying what I have. But once the lip gloss is on, what looks back from the mirror is openly fuckbait. The fantasies are back, intense, vivid, and in every one of them I'm a girl in one of his porn collection videos, seduced or pushed into giving it up, reluctantly at first, but only at first. Or just... made to, which shouldn't be hot but oh, fuck, this carefully arranged hair getting grabbed by him, his just-open-the-legs-or-I'll-slap-you-again attitude, my clothing torn and my body bent roughly over his desk, and fuck what if he forced me to look at videos of girls just like me getting fucked, as he took me... I'm petting my breasts, stroking my belly. One side of hot hooters, coming up, would you like extra slut sauce on that, because I've got plenty... I cup my breasts, picturing Dr K just sitting there, expecting me to flaunt it for him, maybe dance for him, maybe... fuck, right at this second Megan was probably masturbating for her boyfriend. Dr K could make me do that. He could make me show it off for him, as he just sat there, coldly, the exact opposite of every boy I knew. He'd tell me to pinch my nipples, like this, if I wanted any cock tonight... would he think I looked good while I masturbated? Are there ways to do it that guys like better or worse? I'd never even thought about that before. Maybe if I posed myself like this, and caressed my breast like this... I pull myself away from the mirror. I want to come so bad... and it was stupid because I wasn't getting any cock tonight, and definitely not from some older guy with a wife in tow. Not even if his huge, hard, thick package ripped out of his dress pants... I strapped myself into the exercise machine, cursed, unstrapped, and set the weights. He worked with weights three times my limit. I put music on, strapped back in and did leg lifts, fucking pushing myself hard, because I wanted my body perfect for Dr K. I wanted him to need me, bent, over the desk, taut and hot and better than what he saw online. When the legs were tired I switched to abdominal crunches. I crunched and sweated, holding a small medicine ball to make sure I burned. And the fucked up thing was, exercise usually calms my sexual needs, but tonight it didn't. I could see myself in the mirror and I was such a fuck toy, all hot and panting like this, there was no off switch tonight, and I could smell his cologne all around me, on the machine and from my wrist and- "Slow down. Working out isn't about speed." My blood turned to ice. He was right there. Looking at me. I hadn't heard him come in. I was sweaty and panting and dressed in slut lycra and he was looking at me. "Dr K" I yelped! "I thought- I mean-" "Ms K is going to stay with her mom." "Is... is she going to be ok? The mom? I mean-" "She's not well, but there's no immediate danger, and Carla will be there for a few days." He walked over and examined the weight stack I'd started with. "Hm. I always figured you just sort of played at working out, but this is a real set of weights. You were crunching too fast, though. Let's add five pounds and have you try it slower." "Wait, no... I'm done." Yeah, I was more than done. I was doing decline sit ups, and it made my boobs look absurd. "Funny, you didn't look done. You looked like you wanted to crunch all night. Trying to offset an extra ice cream sundae, maybe?" He took the medicine ball and handed me a heaver one. "Slow. Count of three up, count of five down." Shit. The gorgeous doctor wanted to play at being my personal trainer! This could have been really hot -- if he hadn't just stepped my exercise routine up from energetic to brutal. But he fucking had me. Only a child would have been all "no, I can't with you watching me." I pulled myself slowly through the sit up. Fuck. Lifting a ten pound ball was actually much harder than the five pound ball. And doing anything slow is brutal. I wasn't sure I could do ten of these. On the seventh I started shaking on the decline, which is bad. He plucked the medicine ball out of my hands, and then got his hand under my back, and lowered me down. That put him leaning over me... fuck. Fuck! I smelled like hot pussy. I blushed red in a heartbeat. "I... should go," I said. "You sound disappointed," he smiled. "Let me guess-" Oh please fuck no, don't guess- "-you were hoping for the extra hours. I did promise you at least four... so let's do it this way. Sometimes Bella is up at around 4am and wants her mother. If you could stay for that, you'd get your hours. The guest room is right next to Bella's." He wanted me to stay the night! For a second I couldn't breathe. Fuck this is so messed up, shit I have to get out of here I can't be alone with this man fuck fuck fuck- I nodded yes, unsteadily. Wait, who told my head to do that? "So that's settled, then. Let's get you off this bench -- I want a turn." "Oh... um... sure. I'll just go, um, check on Bella-" "No. She's out cold. Stay and spot for me. It's never really a great idea to exercise alone. I'll just be a minute getting changed. He walked into the little adjoining shower area. I sat perfectly still for a full second, and then dived for my backpack. Towel for the face, hairbrush, shit shit shit why did he have to come in at that exact moment my hair had been all pretty an hour ago- fuck I needed to get OUT of these panties but I couldn't change here, not with that open doorway to the shower area, he was just around the corner and oh fuck fuck fuck he was changing he was naked in there, fuck there's my perfume but my hands are shaking, I mustn't spill any- He walked out. And fucking hell. Shorts. That was it. They looked like silk or satin or something, and they clung to ... oh gods. I can't look there, I'll die or something- The rest of him was just as intense. He was a freaking statue, perfectly carved, and the worst of it he was completely un-self-conscious. Guys fucking have that down. He calmly put his achingly hot body on the bench three free away from me, wrapped those perfect legs around the bars and started working it. You know those music videos where they show some hot guy working out, and it's like a half second clip, but your whole body lights up anyway? Now put that clip on autorepeat and masturbate to it. Without coming. That's what this was like. Fuck, I'd just sneak upstairs and masturbate, I'd come in about two seconds and then I'd be sane again, fuck his huge package was stiffening as he work- "Come here and set the weights where they should be." That meant reaching across him, practically putting my boobs in his face. "I, uh-" "Now." One word. One tiny little word, and it completely redefined the evening. Up until now I'd been able to believe that it was all coincidence and wishful thinking, that chance had put us together this nigh. But with this one word he'd made it clear that he has expectations and nothing was chance. He wasn't asking. He was telling. I shivered. Once a guy knows he can tell you to do things, it never stops. How I Lost My Babysitting Job Ch. 02 There's a room in Dr. K's medical offices. It's got the same kind of door as one of the examination rooms, but it's locked. Inside the room there's a single light bulb, and a kind of metal frame made from parts from exercise machines. The frame has lots of hooks and eye bolts, some padding, and some electric motors. There's a camera on the wall, a cabinet and sink in one corner, the littlest shower stall I've ever seen in another, a video screen, a mirror, a comfy chair, and a few weights and a stationary bike against the far wall. The bike and weights are there so if anyone somehow stumbles into the room by mistake, they'll think it's a private workout room. You'll hear a lot about this room in the next few months. ** So, it's "Alona" again. The really bad nineteen year old girl who is in over her head with this hot guy who is way too old for me. It's not my fault. He kind of seduced me... I guess I could have tried to resist a little more than I did. I meant to; I swear I meant to. He just... got to me. And now I work for him. I know, right? And I knew what was up when I took the job, because he was up front about it when he offered. I also know that fucking the boss is the worst move ever. But this is different. So, am I a whore? Dr K spelled it out for me -- my wage is for receptionist work. It's way better than I made at Hooters but it's not call girl rates. Dr K says he doesn't pay for sex. So I'm not a whore. I know what Missy would say -- not only am I a whore but I'm a stupid, underpaid whore. But she's still a virgin at 21, so she says. What does she know about it? And it's not like I go in, bend over, get fucked, start my work day, go to lunch, get felt up, get fucked, go back to work... it's not like that. There are rules. Really, really strict rules. ** So, girls, have you ever thought about the Perfect Guy? Of course you have. When I was fifteen I knew what he was like. He paid attention to only me, he cared about everything I thought, felt and said... oh and he was royalty, kissed gently, was an expert at fencing and rode horses. I think a little differently now. The Perfect Guy doesn't pay attention to only me, he's got a lot going on, but he'll let me come along for the ride if I can keep up. Forget the horses -- I want him to ride me. And he's secure enough to tell me to shut up when I'm babbling. He doesn't baby me. He knows how to make me come to him. And when I do... he takes what he likes. He enjoys me without hesitation, completely, no apologies. Does that sound fucked up? I don't think it is. Every girl wants a guy that will meet her every need, emotionally. And then we get bored. I've seen it in my girlfriends a dozen times. Once a girl calls her guy nice, it's pretty much over. Fuck nice. I'm not saying to date a serial rapist. I am saying that if a relationship is all about keeping the girl in her emotional comfort zone, the relationship is doomed. Make it be about me having to work to keep you happy, and I'll never get away. And make it damn clear that you know it. I'll call you an arrogant prick to my friends, maybe, but I'll eat out of your hand when you've got me alone. Dr K has me eating out of his hand. Literally. He buys lunch for me and cuts it into small pieces and places each one on the palm of his hand. I can't use my hands to eat. When I'm done -- and he decides when I'm done -- I have to lick his palm clean, and then offer my breast for him to wipe it on. You can roll your eyes and call it degrading or any fucking thing you want. I don't care. I get wet just writing about it. ** Alright, I'm putting it off. Dr K says I have to write about my first day at work. Kind of a way for me to look back, I guess. It's embarrassing but I have to do it. And he wants me to masturbate as I do it, but (as always) I'm not allowed to come. I am so not looking forward to this. ** I got in my first day at 8am, figuring I'd want time to figure out the phones and ask questions. Dr K had emailed a ton of material the week before, all about the job. I'd read it all, but hostess at Hooters and doctor's receptionist are not the same thing and even after all the reading there's still a lot I know I don't know. The woman whose job I'm getting, Paula, is staying on for three days to get me up to speed. She's nice, old (at least 40), and not the stunningly gorgeous twenty year old I'd been expecting. She tells me more of what I need to know in a half hour than Dr K had said in dozens of pages of notes. When she's done, it kind of sinks in that this is a job, a real job with real responsibilities, and I'm not being paid to sit in a short skirt and wait for Dr K to flirt with me. Not that I'm in a short skirt. It's knee length, and while the blouse is tight, it doesn't show cleavage. I'd spent hours the night before on the clothing question -- wanting to be hot for Dr K, wanting to look professional for his office. By 9am I was wondering if I'd worried too much. I hadn't even seen Dr K yet. I'd seen Lauren, though. She was about 25, long dark hair, impressive rack and killer legs, in a shorter skirt than I would have worn. One look at me and the daggers came out in her eyes. I could see exactly how this was going to go. It had never even occurred to me that I was the only girl Dr K had as a playmate, but somehow I wasn't expecting Lauren. She was 5' 11" and freaking intimidating. She was also a Physician's assistant, which, as it turns out, is much closer to doctor than nurse. One look at her made me feel very, very nineteen. But then the phone started ringing, and life got busy. I find out very quickly that almost all of Dr K's patients are females between twenty and forty... sheesh, does this guy have it made. Why does he even want me around? And it seems like a lot of the women he treats are seeing him for sexually related issues; I'm only the receptionist and I get more details from some patients than I ever really wanted. By 9:30 I've had a call from one woman talking about her frigidity problem with her husband and how she really needs to see Dr K right away; another -- and this freaks me out -- calls to say her medication isn't solving her "condition"; and she's very obviously masturbating as she's talking to me. It's both strangely erotic and utterly horrifying, and I have to keep a level, professional tone as I promise the doctor will get back to her as soon as possible. I'm pink when I hang up, and Paula looks over. "Patient number 216?" "Um..." I look at the screen, "Yeah." "She calls once a day, hoping to get Dr K on the line. You... probably don't want to let her calls through, even if K is available." "I- ok." Hell, listening to the way she was breathing had gotten me horny; I could imagine what that would do to a guy, and when the guy is Dr K... then I think about letting her through to him every time she calls, and having him... take it out on me... Paula's looking at me, and I blush red. She clicks her tongue and gets back to sorting through patient records. I turn redder. And then Dr K comes out of his office, says "Alona, come with me," and walks down the hall. He doesn't look back; he knows I'm going to bolt out of my chair and follow him. I mean, it's so totally arrogant, the way he does this, making me run after him. And it works. I bolt out of my chair. I'm all butterflies. Just the way he wants me. He stops at a door, and this is where I have my first experience with that room that I described above. (Shit. I have to masturbate as I write this. Alright, before I dive in, let me finish breaking the fourth wall and describe how I'm sitting as I write this, because it will give you some feel for where Dr K's got me, mentally. Dr K has ordered that when I write about my experiences, that I sit on a stool, with the laptop on a desk next to me. He's given me a specific writing pose. One leg is extended to the floor, with only my toes touching it. The other is folded up against my chest, with the ball of my foot on the stool. I turn sideways to type. It's not a pose I can hold for many minutes at a time, so I can get up and walk around, but when I'm on the stool it has to be that pose. I also have to wear the exercise outfit I had on when he and I first got involved; or I can wear less if I want. (It's less, right now.) When I write about anything he did with me, I have to be on the stool and masturbating. Right now the panties are slid down around my ankle and knee, and I'm sitting on a washcloth. My hair has to be loose, so I keep it tossed over a shoulder as I write. It's a sexy, look-at-me pose, and the worst part is that occasionally he makes me pose this way when I'm with him, and then he has his hand between my legs; he fingers me and kisses me, and I'm not allowed to kiss back or make any noise. Just a minute of that, and I'm insane with need. I mentioned the not-kissing-back thing last time I wrote. It's so fucking intense, wanting to kiss him, please him, participate, and not being allowed to. I become a totally wanton fucking whore, every time. So that pose is my about-to-become-a-totally-wanton-fucking-whore pose, and I'm in it now as I write about what he does to me. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that's a really obvious little trick, so obvious that it can't really work, it can't really do anything to arouse me. You're wrong. All Dr K's tricks are obvious, and that's why they work. And they work perfectly. I've been given lots of little rules like this -- rules about dressing, eating, writing, masturbating, reading, driving to work, calling him... they are all very simple rules, not at all difficult to do, not time consuming -- and because of them I'm a sexual mess of need for him, all day. Wow, I'm all over the place today. Part of it is, I don't want to admit to all this, even anonymously. Part of it is the masturbation. My clit is already swollen and the washcloth is already damp and I haven't even written anything yet. I can't think, and posed like this, I keep imagining someone, maybe Dr K, maybe someone totally different, is going to come up behind me and shove me over the desk... Fuck! I wasn't like this when all this started. I wasn't a hot-for-it slut. But right now I just want cock. I want to be bent over the desk, wrists held behind my back and gripped hard, just the way Dr K does it, and I don't want to have any choice about what happens next... he's made me watch videos of myself as he takes me that way. He makes me masturbate to the sight and sound of my own orgasms, and his. At first it was just embarrassing, but it didn't take long before watching myself come made me want to come. Damnit. Alright. No more distractions. I'm not this blonde, I swear, I'm just horny out of my mind.) ** So. I'm with Dr K at 10am and he's unlocking a door to a room I don't know anything about. Lauren passes us in the hall, and her face is hateful. That tells me Dr K has plans for me and she has some idea what they are... I shift from butterflies to shivering. And then we're in the room, and it's locked again. It's nothing like what you'd expect to find in a doctor's office. It's the same size as an examination room, but dimly lit and with the gear all over... I stare around. "Blouse off, now." Just like that. And I do it. Now I'm in a sexy bra and a knee length dress. He takes the blouse and examines the tag. "Now the bra." I take it off, and hand it to him. Shivering hard. Just taking it off made my nipples harden. I mean I knew what would happen when I took the job, but he's so... I mean he's got me and he knows it. He doesn't look at the bra. "Skirt and panties." And now I'm in high heels and a bright blush. He examines the skirt and panties, briefly, and then hands everything back. "Get dressed." "That- that's it?" "Are you asking for more?" "I- I just-" "There will be clothing here for you tomorrow. You'll change into it when you get here, and change back out when you leave." "I -- yes sir." He's going to dress me up. Like a doll. A posable, fuckable doll. Oh gods. What will he choose for me? Am I going to be the sexy slut, or the ultra professional woman who gets her panties hauled down? I'm going to spend the whole day wondering. I reach for the panties, and suddenly his hand is in my hair and my mouth is forced against his. I don't have the right words for this. He's clothed. I'm naked. This is... the first word I think of is unfair, but it's something else. It's like he has the right to wear clothing, and I don't. It's unequal. And that's... I never understood sexuality in these terms before. My hands touch only cloth; his hands touch me. (Shit, I'm dying here. One more rub and it's over. Ten minute break.) Like I'd said, when I was fifteen, my Imaginary Perfect Guy was royalty. He had authority, though I'd never stopped to think about over what, but he'd treated me as an equal. That's the way it's supposed to be, right? Equality is good. But Dr K and I... we're not equal in any of the ways that matter right now. He's older, smarter, stronger, he controls my paycheck, and he just commanded me out of my clothing. The only thing that comes to mind that's anything like this is a sultan and a harem girl. That analogy hits me hard, and I'm suddenly shy and trembling and it's not because of sexual need. I have somehow (how did this happen?) become obedient to a Power, an Authority, and I'm naked because he decided I should be. I now understand that I am becoming his slave and his plaything, and oh, gods, it turns me inside out. Then the kiss ends, and he's dragging me towards that mass of bars, and I'm stumbling after him, panting, knees weak, lips still parted from his rough kiss. Bondage. He tied me up once before and I came so hard I thought I'd pass out. Velcro straps, sudden movement... I'm bound to a tilted bench, leaned back against it, not all the way horizontal, with my legs parted and on either side of the bench. A heavy metal chain, tight across my belly, makes it impossible to shift back and forth. I swallow. I'm a slavegirl in chains now. He puts one hand over my eyes, pinning my head back to the bench. His other strokes my bare thighs... slowly. My legs tense and quiver immediately. I'm bright pink, because I'm so obviously aroused. My nipples are hard. I can feel my pulse pounding in my lips, wrists and clit. "You're wet." I've been wet all morning. I was wet last night. The thought of coming here, knowing that he wanted me, and then having to struggle over the clothing question... I spent the evening fighting down fantasies, fighting down the butterflies, both thinking and not thinking about his hands on me, the way his cock had felt that first time, pushing into me. Of course I'm wet. It took everything I had not to masturbate last night. I haven't come for two weeks, which is forever for me. His thumb slides over my cheek, and parts my lips wider. His other hands shifts... a finger traces up my slit, parting it as well. Tap. "Were you good about not masturbating?" "Y-yes." Now I'm redder. He pounced on that. "Good but maybe not perfect?" "I didn't come. I touched a little." Tap. "How little?" Oh gods, in the mood I was in, if he just... tapped, and tapped... and then didn't let me come... but he wouldn't do that. I'd be a wreck, and he needed me to be his receptionist. Patients would be showing up for appointments soon. "I... just few minutes three nights ago. After that email you sent, the one where you told me what you wanted to do with me-" Tap. "Do you like sucking cock, Alona?" "I-" I'm bright red again. Tap. "Do you like it better when you don't have a choice?" I moaned, desperately trying to keep it quiet. I didn't want Lauren to hear. Tap. "I- I don't know-" Tap. Lingering, rubbing for just a moment. And then his hand slid away, and there was a zipping noise. I shuddered. I don't know how to suck cock. He knows that. He turned my head sideways, his hands still over my eyes. His thumb again parted my lips; then his cock pushed against it, suddenly. Oh gods. He thrust in. It closed the back of my throat, and stayed there. Tap. Tap. Tap. He pulled back. I gasped for air, shuddering. Tap. "I told you not to touch yourself. I meant it. Are you going to obey me?" "Y-" He pushed it in again. I couldn't breathe. Tap. Tap. Tap, rubbing. Tap... massaging. He pinched my clit lightly, as he pulled out of my mouth. I gasp, and then moan, helplessly. Fuck Lauren hearing. My body's going insane. Tap. Rubbing. "Lick my cock." I did, frantically. Slave girl. Fuck toy. Oh gods. He was still rubbing. And then finger slid inside me, curling, pressing upwards. He shifted, making me lick his huge balls. The weight of them against my tongue... it's impossible not to think about him cum, spurting out, and I find myself trying to remember every porn video I'd ever peeked at, so I can please him better with my mouth. Maybe he liked it, because he fingered me faster, and I clenched down helplessly. Oh gods, if he came on me right now, and made me rub it into my skin, if he... He stepped back, uncovered my eyes, and unstrapped me. "Now, get dressed. You have work to do. So do I." "Oh... oh gods," I whispered, dazed. "You want me to work?" My eyes went to that massive, erect cock, as he forced it back into his pants and zipped up around the bulge, with difficulty. "Get dressed, Alona." I did. The tone of his voice turned me inside out. I've never dressed so fast in my life. "But... I can still taste... I mean-" "You'll taste that all day. Lock the door behind you." He exited, a tiny smile on his face. ** By noon, I was a basket case. It was bad enough being horny. It was worse, tasting cock on my lips, though after an hour I couldn't tell if it was still there or I was imagining it. What was much worse was that I think he took Lauren into that room, but if he did it was only for a few minutes, and I couldn't be sure because I couldn't go back there while I was admitting patients. But the worst of all was the patients themselves. They were almost all youngish female women, and they were pretty much all smiling as they were escorted to their examination rooms. Where they'd be alone with Dr K for either fifteen or thirty minutes. Some of them came out with entirely different smiles. Let me just say it -- I'm not in love with Dr K. There's nothing like that here. It was all, one hundred percent, sexual fascination. So when I talk about jealousy, it's not the usual thing. But I can tell you there is nothing as excruciating as being totally, tinglingly turned on, humming with need, crossing and uncrossing your legs because oh, that feels good... and then watching the only guy in sight lock himself in rooms with other women. I could not shut off my imagination and I hated every second of what I imagined. And all the while I had to focus on being polite and professional with these women. Smile, Alona, smile! By eleven thirty I hated all of womankind. What good were they? They didn't have cocks. Oh fuck, a cock... if I could just sit on one, and masturbate every ten minutes, then maybe my head would clear. (Shit! I just pictured sitting in Dr K's lap, his cock inside me, and he's making me masturbate as I read this aloud to him. Oh fuck it hurts so bad, the way I need to come. My hands are actually shaking. I want to call Dr K, but... he's made it clear than if I do, then things happen that I'm just not ready for.) At noon, the flow of patients stopped, and Lauren appeared next to me. "Lunchtime," she suggested. I met her look and there were still daggers in it. How I Lost My Babysitting Job Ch. 02 "I, um, brought mine," I said. Why the fuck does a well-turned rack on another woman, screw with our heads? There's a pecking order among women and it has to do with boobies, and it makes no sense at all. She was as stacked as I was, and that meant... I don't know what it meant, except it was a problem. (I'm not bi, but I've had occasional fantasies about sucking on breasts, or sometimes, being forced to suck on breasts. It's hot and weird. Lauren's though... I'd bite hers. Hard.) "Don't be a child," she said. "We need to talk. Alone. And you only get forty five minutes. Come on." She grabbed a small bag and walked back into the examination area. I hated this but she was right, we had to talk, and I followed her. We camped in an examination room. "These rooms can't smell like food," she said. "Dr K would have a fit. So if you brought anything strong, save it for later." I put aside my container of pasta salad, which had vinegar on it. She nodded, cut her apple in half and passed half to me. "It's not, um... poisoned, is it?" I laughed, a little nervously. "Oh, you're a funny one, too?" she said. "Look... either one of us quits or we have to get along. Eight hours a day is a long time to spend hating. So let me just put it out there, ok? We're not... exactly... competing. Dr K generally doesn't fuck me. Other things happen, but that doesn't... at least not often. Is he going to be fucking you? And don't even think of lying because it's going to be obvious anyway." "We've been together," I said, trying to sound all mature and shit. "Yeah, you and about thirty other women in this part of the state, and that's just the ones I know about on his patient list. No games, ok? This place looks like a doctor's office, but it's something else as well. Fucked up sexual dynamics don't begin to cover it. Are you his whore? You need to be honest with me." "I do? Because I don't know, are you being honest with me? You were with him this morning, weren't you? In that room? And there's no fucking, you said?" She bit into her apple, viscously. "Sweetheart, if he'd been fucking me, we'd have been in there for an hour. This makes me think you haven't really been with him. If you had been, you'd know about his foreplay. And even when he just fucks, believe me, it's not a three minute deal." "So what happened in there?" "Not that you need to know? But he toyed with me. That's what usually happens. If I want to be fucked, I have to crawl across the floor and lick his feet. Needless to say, that isn't happening." I caught the tone of her voice. "But it has happened, hasn't it. A few times?" "Oh, fuck you," she said. "I don't know if you're even old enough to understand. For the right man, and a woman in the right mood... crawling and begging for sex is..." I shivered. He hadn't made me do that, but a part of me understood. For the right man... yes, it could happen. I put that fact in my growing file of shit that shouldn't be hot and very definitely is anyway. "Look," she continued. "Answer my question. When he hired you, was sex part of it?" We were doing the frenemy thing. Trading information, showing some cards, but still at each other's throat. Guys won't understand. This comes naturally to girls. "Don't... listen, I know I'm in so far over my head it's not funny. I was his babysitter, ok? And one night he got me alone. He, I don't know, tricked me or something... he got me to... So, yes, ok? I'm on his cock's speed dial. I keep waiting to wake up and realize I'm insane and I need to get out of here." "You won't," she said. "You can't escape. I've been here three years. Dr K has told me that I've only got two more years here because I need to find a guy and get on with my life. He's right. I even know the guy I want. And there's every chance I'm going to let him get away, because he won't make me crawl and beg for sex like Dr K does. You have no idea how fucked up that is, but I come in every morning thinking I need to give notice today, and I never do. And most days, Dr K takes me into the room, and... he plays a little game. I'm his plaything for three minutes, just three minutes, and he tries to get me to drop to my knees and crawl and beg. Usually I can handle it. I have to think about roadkill, but I can usually last three minutes. Just... not always. That's what you're up against. He knows so much -- too much -- about what goes on in a woman's fantasy life. He knows what you want but don't let yourself think about, and he makes you think about it, all the time. And it works. You're going to be his begging, pleading slut." I pictured this gorgeous woman fighting not to let herself crawl across the floor to beg for a fucking. My belly clenched involuntarily. It shouldn't be hot. It shouldn't. There's so much that shouldn't be hot, and is. I had to get out of here. I was fucking nineteen. Three months ago I'd thought I was mature and knowledgeable and had things worked out. Now I knew better. Dr K had this grown, mature woman begging for sex, probably way more often than she admitted to; gods knew what he'd do to me. I was going to finish lunch and quit, and plead for my Hooters job again. I'd- Wait. Shit. That was what Lauren wanted! That was why she was telling me this, to scare me off. It probably wasn't even true! Or at least really exaggerated. She just wanted him for herself, the greedy bitch. "Maybe I want to be his slut. He certainly knows what I like," I said, airily. "Our first time, tied me up and toyed with me for like an hour, and when he finally let me cum, he took that big huge cock and shoved... well, you know all about that." She wasn't so good at hiding the daggers in her eyes. I smiled. Just because I was out of my depth with him, didn't mean I couldn't keep up with her. "We'll just see how cocksure you are in a week, girlfriend," she said. "You have no idea what's coming. I'll tell you this, though. Once you're addicted to what he does, say goodbye to boyfriends and anything like a normal life. You'll be sorry." "Sounds like you're talking mostly about yourself, girlfriend. I'm not too worried, kay? It's just sex. Maybe you'd know more about that if you begged and crawled a little more often." "Hope you choke on that apple, bitch." And she stormed out. I smiled, and finished the apple. ** The afternoon alternates between flying by and crawling. I'm able to push the horny down, because there's just so much to do and so much of it is new to me. And Lauren leaves me alone. Dr K is in and out but rarely has a moment for anything but patients and files. I manage to convince myself that that few minutes in Dr K's special room was just... well, just... ok I can't convince myself it's anything but a place to drag me (...and Lauren) and do whatever he likes, but it's not like I'm ever going to spend hours in there. So it's going pretty well until the last patient of the day comes in. Julie Q, at 4:30. It takes me a second to recognize her. She does advertisements for local businesses, both internet and local television. Not exactly a major celebrity, but I'd heard guys my age joking about not caring what the hell she was selling, as long as she held that pose and kept smiling. I suddenly hated the fact that she was a blonde. Dr K and Lauren immediately escort her to an examination room. The door closes behind the three of them with an especially loud click. I glance over at Paula, who is packing up for the day. "I don't know," she said to the wordless question. "If you haven't figured it out yet, this is not a good office for asking those kind of questions. She's here each Monday at 4:30 and she's one of the few that gets seen by Lauren and Dr K at the same time. This is when the rest of us leave." "Dr K told me I was here until at least 5:30 each night," I said. The look she gave me amounted to you poor child, but she didn't say anything other than "have a good evening," as she left. Look, I'm human, ok? I crept down the hall and listened at the door. I couldn't get all the words. "-yes, wider apart... is that manageable, Miss Q?" I can't make out the response. "Good. Lauren, fifty percent, please." A low buzzing. A vibrator. A gasp, and then a moan. "Now you'll kiss cock, Miss Q. Find it with your lips... good. Lick slowly. No, do not raise your head. Lick it all around... No, no sucking." Indistinct words, then a gasp. "I'm sure you do. Now turn your head... find Lauren's nipple. That's right. Kiss it very, very lightly. There, feel it hardening? Again. Slowly. Gentle sucking motions. Eyes closed, Miss Q. Opening your eyes is not permitted... Now suck it harder... there, you can sense Lauren's arousal, can't you. You did that, Miss Q. Now think about how hard I am, in a room with two aroused women... Do you like... this? Do you want to be touched... here?" "Y-yes." Hoarse, almost frightened. "Yes, what?" "Yes, please!" "Hold still, Miss Q, those restraints can chafe... two fingers entering... now." Incoherent moaning. "There, now lick my fingers clean... taste how wet you are. Now I'm going to fuck your mouth with my fingers, while Lauren licks your clitoris..." Whimpering, then gagging and gasping and little desperate cries. Broken words. "Are you sure, Miss Q? Because you know that coming is not an option. And I won't be very gentle-" Words, and a soft sob. "I know you do, Miss Q. I know how badly you want to. But it's only been five minutes. Have you been good all week? Only pictures of girls? That's excellent. Lauren, I want you to reward Miss Q with a very, very slow, gentle clit-nibble." A shuddering cry, and then "Please! Please! Please fuck please!" "You're a little too eager for the endgame, Miss Q. I'm going to have to prescribe a little negative reinforcement... alright, you're unclipped. Put on the blindfold. Turn over. Elbows and knees. Now, miss Q!" Shifting, moaning. "No, please not this-" "Higher. That's right. Don't move." Slap! (Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I can't type anymore. Fifteen minute break.) Slap! Slap! Soft, erotic sob. "Lick her nipples while you're spanked, Miss Q. More. Faster." Slap! Slap! Sobbing. "Please! Please I won't beg anymore! Please!" "You're begging right now." Hard slap! Sobbing. "And now, three fingers, just at your slit... keep licking... I'm wondering, Miss Q. Did you notice my new receptionist? How full and round her breasts are? Her pretty face? She's so young. It's one thing to have to lick Lauren's nipples -- she's your age. But what will having to sexually serve a girl just out of high school do to you? Maybe you're going to find out, Miss Q. But first, my fingers are going to rape you-" "Fuck!" Sobbing. "Please, fuck please, I'll come! No more! Anything! Let me come! I'll do anything!" "Anything? Dangerous word, Miss Q. Lauren... tell Alona she's wanted in here. And be nice about it." The sudden icewater in my veins didn't stop me from just about teleporting across the room to the water cooler. Just getting a drink. Yeah. Not listening at doors. Lauren looked out, and gave me a yeah, right look. She was in her short skirt and shoes and nothing else. My eyes got wide -- fuck, she was pretty, and oh, fuck, I'd rather die than join that little... whatever it was... "Dr K wants you in here, Alona," she said, sweetly. "I- um-" "I wouldn't disappoint him." She pulled back into the room and closed the door. Oh gods. I needed to run the hell away. I was -- no way to deny it -- so fucking turned on, but I wasn't into girls, I mean that wasn't remotely my thing, and oh gods, why was I going to the door? Stop, stupid Alona, stop! It's fucked up crazy time in there! "Y-you called for me, Dr K?" Miss Q was on an exam table, naked, blindfolded, on her elbows and knees, her pretty blonde hair in Lauren's hand, her mouth being guided to Lauren's nipple. Lauren's very hard nipple. As I stared, Lauren started very slowly stroking Miss Q's lips, back and forth, with that nipple. Miss Q tried to pull back, but Lauren didn't let her, and Dr K's hand came down on her ass... Miss Q shuddered, and began licking it. Behind her was Dr K, fully dressed except for the cock pushing out of his opened zipper. I just stared. So big. "Yes, alona. Clothing off, now. Miss Q is going to lick your clit, while she's spanked and fingered by Lauren." I felt like I was going to faint. I mean, a couple of times I'd fantasized about being Miss Q - the minor celebrity fame, the looks and clothing, the choice of any guy she wanted. That the guy she apparently wanted, was the guy who had chosen me as a playmate- I mean, I couldn't even think anymore. And having to undress in front of Lauren, shit - And -- gods -- being licked up by Miss Q? "NOW, Alona." I undressed. Shaking from head to toe, because when he raised his voice I turned to water. Authority had spoken again. I was his slave girl; I had to obey. He walked over and picked me up, arms around my back and under my knees. Any other day I'd have automatically curled against him -- today I wasn't even able to breathe, let alone curl. He landed my ass in front of Miss Q, on the table. If he'd have stepped back I'd have tumbled backwards off the table, but he braced me against his chest, and positioned my arms up and behind me, to twine around his neck. "Run your legs along Miss Q's sides, Alona, and then grip her hips with the soles of your feet... just like that." He toyed with my nipples, the gloved fingers still slick from Miss Q. I closed my eyes and tried to stop shuddering at how wrong this was. "And, Lauren, the blindfold... there. Now Miss Q, you're going to lick this pretty blonde fucktoy in front of you, until she's the one begging to come, while Lauren violates you with that vibrator... if you do a good job, you'll get to come. I was naked and he was clothed. Miss Q was naked. Lauren was topless. I tried to think of men who had this kind of power. Sultans. Greek gods, if that counts. The kind of bad men who capture women and make them sex slaves. The one that stuck was sultan. They collected pretty women. I was... collectable. I tilted my head back and looked at his face, his strong, intense, intent face. Handsome. Assured. He just did this. No questions, no fears... sultan. And after this, I was going to be so insanely horny, I'd beg for my sultan to fuck me. And if he bade me to crawl, I'd crawl. I was trying not to think about Miss Q's tongue. But she made very sure I noticed. Her hands stroked my hips and thighs and her tongue danced, and danced, and Dr K's hands on my breasts, and I'd been so hot all day, and... oh gods, I'd only ever come once because of someone else before, and that had been Dr K, and the second time was going to be Miss Q, and that was... that was... The vibrator plunged into Miss Q. She cried out and thrashed my clit with her tongue. Her hands forced my legs further apart, and Dr K's hands on my nipples were torment, the only escape would be an orgasm, I had to come, I had to. Lauren slapped her ass. Miss Q shuddered and whispered Please against my clit. I wanted to stare down at her, and see the way the spanking and vibrator drove her closer to orgasm, but Dr K's mouth came down on mine. It didn't matter who licked my clit, what mattered was that we made Dr K happy and did exactly what he said. Oh gods, obedience. Obedience is such as dark, hot, shameful, intense thing. I was obedient. Miss Q slid her hand, pushed a finger up into me, and curled it. Come she whispered, as her tongue slammed into that achingly eager spot just underneath the clit, and then flicked upwards, hard, over and over- "Spank her harder, Lauren," Dr K said. (Shit it hurts! Fuck if anyone walked in here now I'd open my legs and just cry for it, even one of the stupid boys my age!) Slap. Slap. Slap! Slap!- "I need to come," I moaned. "I- I fuck, please, I'm going to come, I can't -- I can't stop-" Dr K hauled me backwards, and my limp, useless legs fell to the floor. I sobbed and bent and tried to impale myself on his cock, but he grabbed me by the hair, stood me up and toyed with my nipples as Lauren slowly forced Miss Q to a violent orgasm. It was agony to watch. I wanted that so badly! "Process her out," Dr K said to Lauren. His hand closed around my neck and he dragged me, stumbling, out and down the hall to that room. ** I can't do this. I can't write anymore. I'm crying. My clit is throbbing so hard I'll come if I close my legs. Oh fuck I'm supposed to call him if it gets like this, he can give me permission, but then the next day is a no limits day. I've never done one and I'm terrified. Girls aren't supposed to let themselves get like this. We masturbate so we can take the pressure off and be rational around guys. Gods, walking down the street with every single guy running his eyes over me, you fucking think that doesn't get to us? So I masturbate so I don't explode but now I can't, I can't, and oh fuck it how bad could a no limits day be? He's never hurt me and I fucking already know I'd do anything he asked! Tomorrow I'll go in and crawl on my belly if I have to, I just want to be raped by his cock, over and over while I come screaming ** So... I called him. And he said No. But he said if I finished this, then tomorrow when I got in he'd fuck me and let me come, once but for as long as I wanted. But I have to finish this, and I'm not allowed to touch myself. And there's not much more. ** As soon as he had me in the room, he dragged me back to the bench and tied me up. A pillow under my ass pushed my hips upward, and some sort of clamp gripped my hair, close to my skull, forcing my head far back so I could only look at the ceiling. "Let me tell you about my day," he snarled. "I spent it with sexually dysfunctional women, some of them very willing to practice being dysfunctional with me. But I can't just fuck them. That would destroy my practice. I can talk with them, stimulate them, touch them, sometimes even push my cock into them to help them come to terms with whatever their issue is. But I just about never get off with them." He fixed a vibrator against my clit, and turned it on. "So at the end of the day, what I want more than anything is a wet, fuckable cunt. Someone I can grab and pound. But there's something else I want. I want to make a woman know what's it's like to hunger for it, hunger the way a man does. All the time. I'm going to make you burn, constantly, so the only thing you say when I push my cock into your begging pussy is Thank You and More. I'm going to make your pretty, helpless little body the most fuckable thing any man has ever known." This should have terrified me, but I was arching towards an uncontrollable orgasm. I'd been right on the edge when he dragged me in here, I'd been boiling over all day, and he was standing over me, stroking the thickest, hardest cock I'd ever seen, with drops of precum falling on my cheek. I was clenching repeatedly, legs shaking, and I could not speak. I plead with my eyes. Part of the sick, hot appeal of being a slave is that you can be made to give it up when you don't want to. I thought that was the darkest fantasy ever, before this moment. Now I knew about a darker, hotter one. I was a slave who could be made to ache for it and beg for it, whenever he wanted. It wasn't enough that he could fuck me. He could do worse, he could make me desperately willing to be fucked. I sobbed, once, and arched helplessly into my orgasm. He moved the vibrator away. I screamed, thrashing in frustrated agony. Suddenly he was between my legs, his cock in his hand, and he was moving it up and down along my slit, not quite pushing in, over and over, fast. I was shrieking now. His fingers closed around my aching pearl of a clit, and tugged upwards- How I Lost My Babysitting Job Ch. 02 "Fuck me! Fuck me! I have to have it! I -- gods, let me come! Let me come! You have to let me fucking come! Please fuck me hard!" Then he was in, pounding my bound body, and I felt my hips straining to tilt upwards for him. My clit sent shocks through me on every thrust. And then his hand grabbed my throat, roughly, and he screamed angrily in my face "Kiss me as you come!" That did something to me I can't even describe. Terror mixed with my renewed orgasm; I was a little girl being raped by a big, big cock and I had to please him -- I'd do anything to please this terrifying sultan who was choking me and fucking me and taking my helpless, eager body. I cried, kissed him frantically, and shrieked again, coming violently as that impossible cock plunged into me over and over. I felt his fingernails sinking into my breasts, and desperately I licked his mouth, needing his orgasm, needing to satisfy his animalistic hunger for my body. His thrusting got rougher and faster, and then he came. I felt him shudder over and over, and I came again, incoherently sobbing. I'd pleased him. Oh gods, I'd pleased him and it made me come. All that hard maleness, all that fury, and I'd taken it all in and made him happy... When my orgasm subsided I felt tears trickling across my cheeks. I'd pleased him! (I know that sounds pathetic. Plenty of guys would be pleased to have me in bed and I think they'd come just fine. And I guess any guy I went to bed with, I'd try to make it good for him and I'd be happy if he liked it. That's not what it's like with Dr K. At all.) After a moment he kissed me gently, staggered up, and cleaned up. Then he unbound me, sat in a chair and gestured me over. I curled up in his lap, shivering. He caressed me, slowly. "Good girl," he murmured. "Did I frighten you?" "Yes... It's -- it's okay," I whispered, nuzzling against his chest. "I... think I liked it." I half-giggled; I was such a girl. "I think you could tell." "I could. You'll be sore tomorrow. Here, here and here," he said, touching my belly, thighs and arms. "Stretching and walking will help." "Did... did I-" "Don't, Alona. That's such a girl question. Yes, I liked it. I came hard, and anyway if you don't please me, I'll tell you. Over time, I'll let you out of the restraints and teach you just what to do with your body to make sure you please me. But don't worry about that. You'll always be willing to please me, won't you." I shivered, swallowing. Saying it, admitting it, made it real. "Yes." "To show me you mean it, I want you to slide to your knees, and very gently kiss my cock. Not sexually. Obediently." And I did, shaking on the outside, glowing on the inside. That word. Obedience. I was being obedient. I didn't have words for what kneeling to his cock did inside me. "Good. Now back in my lap." I nestled in again. "Can I ask questions?" "You may." "Um... about Lauren. I'm not jealous, I just... she said some things. Do you fuck her?" "Not often. She's not good at giving me something I want. You'll just have to learn to deal with her anger." "Ok. And... I don't even know how to ask. This is a very strange doctor's office. I mean, all those women patients. And you're not a gynecologist, you're not advertising as a sex therapist..." "I started out as a neurologist. Brain stuff. But, well... a lot of women started booking my time and it was obvious that they wanted something... more specific. Most of my patients do have actual conditions; it's not all like Miss Q." "What was that about?" "You aren't supposed to intrude on doctor patient privilege, Alona. But I did pull you in, so... she's sexually straight, but her boyfriend wants her to be bisexual. She couldn't get herself to, um, experiment with that idea, and it's not something she wanted to admit to her girlfriends. So she came to me." "Her boyfriend told her to... and she'd do that for him?" "It's amazing what women will do for the right man." "Are... are you going to do that to me?" "Lauren does have nice tits, doesn't she." "Eww. Stop." "I saw the way you looked at her. Let me put it this way. You've become my sexual playmate. And I am very playful, and very demanding. You're going to experience all sorts of things, some of which you can't imagine now." I was shivering. "I, um, have limits." "Write a list of the things you won't do. I'll read it carefully." "You're... scary, you know." He kissed me. I clung to him, and cried a little, suddenly. "I'm so over my head. Don't... don't be... keep in mind how old I am. I don't know anything." "I know. I'm ruthless, but not malicious. I'll push you, bend you, I'll have such power over you... but you'll be safe. Any time you feel truly unsafe, you have to talk to me, immediately. That's your first rule. There will be others." "Rules?" "Many rules, over time. For now, just curl in and let me pet you." I curled, and his hands moved over me, lightly. It was peaceful, almost hypnotic. He was still mostly closed and I was still entirely naked, but it didn't bother me as much now. I felt kind of sleepy. "Dr K... why..." I shook my head to clear it a little. "Why am I doing this?" He cupped my breasts, gently. I leaned by head back and kissed his cheek. Lauren, I decided, was an idiot. "Why are you giving yourself to me?" "Um... yeah." Slow, light stroking. "Because I want you to." "....Oh." ** Somewhere in there, during that day, I went from a girl infatuated by a guy, to a girl possessed by a guy. I'm not going to say it "just happened." It was a realization that kind of settled in. When I went home after work, I shook for an hour and then threw up, I was so overwhelmed. And I was going to quit the next day. But the next morning I found myself dressing, casually, and heading to the office, telling myself I'd just see what clothing he picked for me (I had to know!) and then I'd quit... That's a story for another day. Right now my hands are shaking. Tomorrow I'll go in and beg for sex. I'm not supposed to beg, but... the consequences are just as addictive as the actual sex. I know that now. And when he's done punishing, he'll make me watch as that big hard cock slams into me, and then he'll make me beg for release as he comes. I have to sleep now. Or at least try. Oh gods, the dreams I'll have... How I Lost My Babysitting Job Ch. 03 My second day at work... I shudder to think about it. Yeah, Alona again, still the sweet little nineteen year old girl, turning (turned?) into something else by my employer, Dr K. If you didn't read my previous post, go back and read it now, because I don't want to explain everything over and over. That just makes it longer to write and, as I mentioned last time, writing about this is a very, very frustrating experience for me. I'm just going to jump into it. I really planned to quit, when I went in on my second day. The plan was to find out what clothes he'd brought in for me -- ok, yes, I know, but I was dying of curiosity -- and then to pull myself together, look him in the eye and tell him I couldn't, I just couldn't. Because the day before... I mean fuck, I have no idea how he even did that. I got licked by a woman I didn't know, and then I was fucked to a pleading, shrieking orgasm. On my first day of work. You can't work in a place like that, never knowing what will happen, giving up anything like control... I thought I couldn't. I arrived early, and shaking. No one else was at my desk, and I found a package on my chair. On top of the package was a key, and I knew which room it went to. On my desk was a bouquet of orange roses. The fucking bastard. No one had ever given me roses. I mean, come on, you've read about my dating history, all two paragraphs of it. No one's ever given me flowers, or poems. I got a box of chocolate once on valentine's. That's it, in the tribute to my beauty department. And this was a dozen fucking roses. I just started at them for a second. I could smell them. I'd be smelling them all day. No, wait, I wouldn't. I was quitting. If I quit, I wouldn't be able to keep the roses. (Yes, that really did go through my head.) I poked my nose into them and inhaled, deeply. Aw, shit. I loved getting roses, I realized. And even though, in the back of my head, I knew perfectly well that roses don't make up for having your pussy licked by strangers, I also knew that... Um... Fuck it, I decided. I'm going to go see what slutty, horrible outfit Dr K had planned for me. And then I'll quit. And I'll keep the roses anyway. Um, no, I wouldn't. I lived at home. No way was I going to try to explain a dozen roses to mom. Goodbye, roses, I barely knew you. I wondered if I'd ever get any again. OK. I had to look at the package now. My work outfit. It would be slutty, and that would make it easy to quit. Yeah. I had a plan now. I ran down the hall to the room, and turned the key. Then I was inside with the door closed behind me, and tearing open the package. Naughty nurse outfit? Slutty lingerie style clubwear? Exactly what had he picked, that was going to tell every patient that his receptionist was a wholly owned subsidiary of his cock? What the fuck, there are shoes in this package? Somehow I hadn't expected that. And a bra? And a note... I shivered. Oh, no. A note. Alona... take everything off and put on only what is in the package, not more or less. Leave your clothing in here, in the locker, lock the door when you leave, and knock on my office door. When I open it I want to see you standing with your hands behind your back and the key to this room between your teeth. Alright, so... That was... strangely hot. I couldn't even figure out why it was hot. I get that the hands behind my back was a submissive pose, but... I shook my head. I wasn't quitting because the boss wasn't hot enough. I was quitting because he was too hot, too in control, too able to make me forget myself and- Shit, stockings? Stockings? I hauled everything out. The outfit was nothing like I expected. It was a deep purple, very nearly black pencil skirt, just knee length, with translucent edging at the hem. The pullover was jet black, high necked, and fitted to the millimeter, with sleeves down to my wrists. Black lace at the wrist, and not much of it, was the only ornamentation. The trouble started underneath. There were no panties, and the bra was only a shelf bra. It didn't cover the nipples. The stockings weren't nude, but they were only a little darker than nude. The shoes were three and a half inch heels, close toed and shiny black. And a string of pearls. And a small bottle of perfume. The shoes were not quite officewear, but not... wrong. The only wrong part of this outfit was the bra. There was a mirror in here. Oh, hell... I had to. Three minutes later I was staring in the mirror, with wide eyes. There had been a nineteen year old girl here just a couple minutes ago. Who was this elegant, tastefully hot mid-twenties woman? How did she manage to project such an amazing air of sexual self-confidence? The clothing said I was rich, beautiful, and knew exactly how to dress to announce both, without appearing even slightly slutty. If you stare at me, the clothing said, it's your choice and perhaps your mistake. I'm not flaunting. I don't have to. I spent ten minutes staring into that mirror, arranging my hair, turning this way and that. And it suddenly hit me -- this was how Dr K saw me. I always dressed my age and income bracket, but he'd never paid the slightest attention to that. All he'd seen was what was underneath, the raw material of a-- I swallowed -- beautiful woman. I stared at the little, unmarked bottle of perfume for a moment, and then, sighing, picked it up. It wasn't fair that it was unmarked. It was clearly one he liked, but I didn't get to know what kind it was. I'd only be able to get it from him. That was just so like him. It was aggravating, I decided. Yeah, this was pure him. Controlling. Manipulative. Annoying. I held the tiny vial up to my nose. Usually I wear florals if I wear perfume at all, which I generally don't. Sure, I've spent time at the perfume counter of department stores, playing around, but... I'm ignorant when it comes to this stuff. This was an intense, oriental perfume. Nothing floral about it. Nothing I'd ever have considered wearing. It was just too... exotic? I couldn't do this. The clothing promised more than the woman in them could deliver; I couldn't live up to this look. I wasn't ready to be this old yet. I wouldn't be able to open my mouth in this outfit, because they'd all hear the pretending, nineteen year old girl inside. I had to take this off and then go out and explain to Dr K- Lauren. Lauren would be in soon, if not already. In this, I could look Lauren in the eye, smile briefly, sweep past her and leave her staring furiously in my wake. I daubed some perfume. Game fucking on. ** The problem was that my next stop was Dr K's office. Where I was supposed to quit. The only reason I'd had the courage to come in today was because I was going to quit. And now... The roses by themselves wouldn't have done it. I could get past the roses. Fuck the roses. But the clothing...? I was halfway down the hall before something obvious occurred to me. You don't wear the same outfit to work every day. That meant... tune in tomorrow, Allie, to see what outfit he has in store for you next. That literally stopped me dead in the hallway. Another lesson in how he saw me, and how he liked me to look. Another little proof that he had spent time, a lot of time, imagining my shape, considering what would work on me, what would make me more appealing to him... And... He'd looked over my clothing yesterday -- now it was obvious that he was checking tags for sizes. This morning there was perfectly fitted clothing waiting for me. In one day? How? That wasn't even possible. Shivering a little, I put the key between my teeth, knocked on the door, and tucked my hands behind my back. A minute went by. Two. Two minutes is a long time. Especially when any of the nurses, by which I mean Lauren, could come around the corner any second. Maybe Dr K wasn't in here. Three minutes? Wouldn't that be something, if I spent a long time waiting here when I was supposed to be answering phones soon. Maybe he'd fire me. Yeah. That would solve- He door opened, and there he was. Smiling slightly. That alone made me shiver. He gestured me in, and the door closed behind me. Now I knew why this was an erotic pose. I couldn't speak without dropping the key. I was posing here, all tastefully hot, but wordlessly, and with my breasts lifted, posed as a silent invitation to his hands. He looked me over, slowly and carefully, the small smile never leaving his lips. The nervous energy I felt when near him wanted to erupt in a flood of babbled words, and could not. He'd planned that, of course. He'd known. He stepped in behind me, close. Aftershave. The same one he'd put on my hand that first night. Memories flooded back. I was breathing deeply now, taking in his scent. I felt the frisson, that unholy shiver that was to become the hallmark of my transition between a free-willed being and his submissive plaything. His fingertips landed on my sides, and moved upwards, lightly. They crossed without hesitation over to the sides of my breasts, then slowly, teasingly, towards my nipples. Supposed to quit. Mustn't drop the key. Shit, if I was going to quit it doesn't ma- Nipples. Instantly hard and aching, as his fingertips caught them through the thin, formfitting, slightly stretchy cloth. I looked down, shivering. The cloth was so black that the hardened nipples wouldn't be as noticeable as in some shirts... until someone looked from the side. And then the arousal would be very, very obvious. He twisted them, slowly. So intimate, so wrong. So achingly hot. I couldn't hold back my gasp, or the sudden indrawn breath. His fucking you-are-mine-and-I'll-touch-you-how-I-please confidence got to me, every time. His teeth closed suddenly over the side of my neck, hard enough to hurt. I arched, pressing my breasts tighter against his fingers. Please stop, I thought, desperately. Please. I need this to stop. I'm not what I look like to you. I'm just a girl. I'm not a woman, that's the skirt and blouse, they are lying, I'm not this... this... And then his lips moved, along my cheek... no, not my lips, no! The way his lips moved over mine was cruel. Holding the key in my teeth, any attempt to kiss him back felt clumsy. It was the key's fault, but it felt like it was my fault. I suddenly burned to kiss him as well as I could. But I couldn't. And when his tongue traced across my lips, and his fingers pulled at my nipples, suddenly, I whimpered. I was only nineteen, I shouldn't be near a man who does this to me so easily! My fingers were still laced together behind my back, down at my ass. He shifted again, and pressed the bulge in his pants against my hands. For a second I froze like a frightened rabbit, but... I couldn't kiss him properly, but I could do this. I pressed against him, back rubbing my hands over that hard, somehow heavy bulge. His sharply indrawn breath told me that, finally, I'd surprised him. "Are you sure you want to encourage me, Alona?" His hand came up and cupped at my mouth. I dropped the key into it. "I don't know what I want," I whispered. "I was going to quit when I came in today." He chuckled. "No... I don't think you were. I think you wanted to want to. Now don't move." He walked past me and leaned against his desk, facing me. He reached down and unzipped, and brought out his cock. Hard male cock is fascinating. It's not like I've seen dozens, and maybe if I had the novelty would wear off, but... it's so... I mean, that shape. My body remembered what that thing had done to me, the way I'd sunk into feelings and emotions I couldn't control, the sense of violation and pleasure mingled... something happens to you when you're fucked by a man, I realized. He gets inside you in more ways than one. I stared at his cock and wanted to touch it. To please it. Wrong. So wrong. He stroked the length of it, looking at my body. It was a hypnotic thing. I think I licked my lips. "Come here." I did. Walking felt odd with my hands still laced behind my back. "Kneel." Kneeling to his cock. Shit. Now it was inches from my mouth. I'd just spent a few minutes reveling in how mature, how confident, how sexually together I looked in these clothes. How beautiful it made me -- and that's a word I'd never used before. Hot, ok, but beautiful? These clothes let me call myself that, for maybe the first time in my life, and my emotions had gone soaring. And now I was taking all that and kneeling it at the feet of this man. I've written about how I sometimes think of him as a sultan, not a boss. It happened again now, and I became shy, and shivered inside. Kneeling to him was... I was presenting him with a gift, and gift that suddenly ached to be unwrapped and put to use. Oh gods, that hard cock. I'm just a girl, tell me what to do. Tell me to kiss it. Please make me suck it! He shifted, bringing it closer. And then slapped my lips with it. It made me jump, and it changed everything. It was only the lightest of stinging on my lips, but it was still... punishment? Humiliation? Those words are too strong, but it was something. I went from a beautiful gift, to someone who was being taught her place. Was he angry that I'd mentioned quitting? I wanted to look up into his eyes, but I couldn't. My desire to please him exploded into something almost uncontrollable. Anything. Make me do anything, talk to me, just don't be angry! (Fuck, I have to stop writing for a bit! Having to touch as I write - I can't breathe, I can't think.) (Do you know what's horrible about this thing where I have to masturbate as I write? I get it now. He's not just toying with me. He's teaching my body to associate what he does to me, with these intense cravings I get from touching and denying. I can picture things as I write them, so clearly in my mind, and to ache with need at the same time ... I mean, he's enslaving me. No, I'm enslaving me. Every day a little more. And I can't stop.) I knelt there, shivering, eyes down. I think this is when the word submissive first really entered my head, as a noun. It was the fact that I couldn't raise my eyes to his face. It's one thing to have a sultan fantasy, or even feel shivers in the presence of a man, the hot emotional rush of yes I would, if you asked. It's absolutely another to feel yourself unable to raise your own eyes. He slapped my lips again, and I shuddered. The suddenness of it... and the hot, shameful arousal that flooded me, deeper every second. "Look at me." I couldn't and I had to. He'd looked at my face and known my thoughts... I raised my eyes, slowly, with effort, until they looked into his. Keeping my gaze there was so, so hard. It didn't matter that I was elegantly dressed; eye contact made me a shaking nineteen year old girl again. Absurdly, I wanted to be twenty, somehow not being a teen would make a difference, I'd know more, I'd understand everything. But that was eight months away, and I couldn't even imagine the next eight seconds. Of course Crissy was twenty two and she assured me that the early twenties were a train wreck because the dating pool was mid-twenties guys who were starting to get an idea about what they wanted and how to get it. Fucking hell and Dr K was over thirty and was the unholy god of knowing how to get it. I couldn't look up anymore, I felt inadequate, childish- "Don't look away." Helplessly I kept my eyes on his. The sultan had demanded it. I knew now how a mouse felt when a snake corners it. He brushed his cock against my lips, over and over, and my agony increased. I wanted to look at his cock, his fascinating, hard, musky cock. I wasn't allowed to, and somehow this made my lips intensely sensitive. Sucking became an unbearably fascinating thought. But until he gave me permission I couldn't so much as kiss it. "Touch your clit." "Please no!" I winced. I'd used the N word. Then his hand was in my hair and his cock was slapping across my face. His voice became a low menacing hiss. "Touch. Your. Clit. Slut." My shaking hand crawled up my skirt. Look, I know, ok? There are two things that make me fall apart, hard. One is an angry male voice. The other is a quiet ultimatum and then silence, while I'm "allowed to think it over". Dr K knows how to use both. I don't like being called slut, for the same reason every girl doesn't like being called slut. We're afraid it's true. I mean not literally, most of us are pretty good at keeping our legs closed. It's more like we're afraid that the guy can make it true, that he's got our sexual number and can make us want it when we shouldn't. We all live with the fear of meeting a man who knows what to do to us to make us give in. It's our worst fear and our hottest fantasy. I shivered, my eyes struggling to look into his. Masturbating in front of a man is so wrong. But he was making me... want it...when I shouldn't... I hand moved over my thigh in nervous fits and starts. And then I touched with a fingertip, as subtly and secretly as I could, under the skirt. My clit was immediately fireworks. I gasped, and that was another mistake because now the head of his cock was between my lips, and I still wasn't allowed to suck but oh, oh, dressed all elegant and pretty and kneeling and wanting to suck like... like the slut he knew I was. Oh fuck, if he came, I'd have to get every drop, I couldn't wash this outfit here- "Touch faster." I gasped again, softly. I had to suck, I had to. My lips were shaking now. Touching my clit made everything a thousand times worse because it was impossible to think about anything but the spreading warmth and the ache of need, but I had to focus on not moving my lips. I clenched down on nothing, and give a sob of desire, and then realized my mouth had followed the example of my pussy and closed around his cock, and oh fuck the way it throbbed- But he took it out, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me over to his desk. "Grab the far edge with one hand. Keep touching your clit with the other." Ass out, over a desk, at work. What girl hasn't pictured it? Breasts against the flat surface, spilled out to the sides. The fucking motion rocks my body on them, it's impossible not to be aware of the nipples, and the movement of the hair spilling off the desk, and the tense legs, and- oh fuck, he was taking a condom out of the desk, no, please, mustn't- He put it on while I stared, his large, impressive cock stiff for me. That shape... it's made for one thing, and I felt myself clenching down again. Then he took a single flower, orange, from a drawer -- oh no, one of the roses from my bouquet, shit... He tore three of the thorns from the stem, and reached across the desk. "Hold it in your lips by the stem, here. Don't drop it." Then my skirt was down around my ankles, and his hands were on my bare hips, and oh, in, the overwhelming sensation of being pushed into, the deep shiver than goes through you, as please don't? changes into but we both know I wanted this all along; the completely wicked sensation of being secretly pleased it's happening, it doesn't matter how wrong it is, but also the shiver of shame that you gave in, wondering if you'll be stronger next time, the dark and hot realization that you probably won't be, and then the flood of physical sensations, he's pushing, filling, he's going to be rough, and the frightening sense that he knows everything now, as if it's really your mind he's entered... I whimpered, over and over. He could have me whenever he wanted me. This was the moment I really realized how powerless I'd become. I thought I was going to quit? He wouldn't let it happen. He was always a step ahead of me, and directing my steps back to his predetermined path, over and over. How I Lost My Babysitting Job Ch. 03 And the scent from the rose, filling my head... I'd be going to my desk and there would be that same scent, all day, and my pussy would clench and my clit would throb at every whiff. So simple, and so evil. If I were a guy and I was going to be with a girl for her first time I'd bury her nose in roses and then I'd fuck and finger ruthlessly her to orgasm, and forever after the scent of roses would turn her inside out, and she'd never forget me. Women are so easy to teach, sexually; we imprint on a male, why don't more men understand this? And then I was whimpering, because a hand moved from my hip to my hair, and having my hair pulled during sex is one of those dark little turn-ons I can't shut off. But I couldn't come in here! Everyone would hear, who could I work in a place where everyone knows -- I mean here everyone does know but being heard is just -- just- But it didn't matter. He pounded me, growling, panting, and I had to take it, and I had to keep touching, and the pull of his hand arched me just the way I'd arch if I was coming, but it worked backwards too and suddenly I was unable to breathe, I licked my dry lips, and oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck yes- He stopped. I contemplated murder. "Both hands on the desk, legs apart," he snapped. At least he was panting. I half sobbed, the need in me so strong I wanted to curl into a shaking ball, and with just one touch of my finger I could fly to the moon- but he was using the Not Negotiable voice and I obeyed without thinking. His hand slapped my ass, hard. Twice. "Why?!" I cried out and then bit my lip because that had been too loud, and then it finally occurred to me, oh SHIT- "Where's the rose, Allie," he snarled. I licked my lips, but in fear, not need. I'd dropped it of course. Probably when I'd been completely distracted by the orgasm he'd just casually ruined my morning by not quite granting me. "I- I dropped it..." He slapped my ass again. I bit back the whimper. "Where is it supposed to be?" "My mouth -- I'm sorry, I-" "Get it back in your mouth. Use only your lips to do it, and be careful because there are still some thorns in the stem. Now." That had been the most redundant Now ever spoken. I was already around the desk and on my hands and knees, and I very carefully gathered up the stem between my lips. Which meant I wasn't paying attention to him, and so when his fingers pushed into my slit, I dropped the rose again and cried out. Shuddering, I picked it up again. His fingers... I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. There is nothing I know that's more intense than his start-stop-start kind of edge play. After just a few seconds I was whimpering again. And I knew his cock was still... it's impossible not to think about his cock. And I have this little thing about being taken on the floor, being forced to open my legs to a man who doesn't care whether I'm comfortable, or ready, or even... willing. (There, I said it.) My legs turned to jelly and I collapsed, sobbing, and rolled onto my back, legs spilling open. I wanted to say "Just take me," but the rose between my lips meant I had no permission to speak. It didn't matter. The coaxing movement of my hips said it all. But he only smiled, darkly. "No, Allie. Playtime is over. Do you think I'd be able to work after cumming? We're going to have to wait." He took the rose from my mouth, and traced the petals against my lips, and then across my nipples through the tight, thin cloth. "You're... going to leave me like this?" I said, incoherently. "I can't think straight." The rose drifted down my belly, and then to bare skin, playing along my thighs. "Not... helping..." I whispered. "But you're needed at your desk," he said, and now the soft, somehow heavy bloom of the rose was being flicked at my clit. "Desk?" I whispered. I started to close my legs, to end the torture he was inflicting, but roses have thorns and I realized I'd have to leave them apart. He moved the rose faster, flicking and caressing. I stared up at him, licking my lips, shaking at each slight impact. Cock. He still had it out. I opened my legs wider. "You want me, too," I whispered, sluttily. "Just take. You're hard for me, do you know what that does to me? I want to please you. You know I do." To my surprise, I could tell I was getting to him. "Not... now." His cock throbbed, and my legs opened wider; I traced my stockinged toe along his pant leg. "Please," I whispered. "Take me. Hurt me a little, punish me for dropping the rose again. I want to feel you being... ruthless." (I have to stop again. This is fucking agony.) That hit him hard. He reached forward and his hand tangled in my hair, and he hauled me towards him. My face was within inches of his, and his eyes burned down into mine. "You seduce well. I'm very tempted. But of the two of us, I'm the one who decides when you get cock. And this is a work day, not a play day. So get to your feet." "I -- c-c-an't-" "NOW!" I was on my feet. He had to reach out and steady me. I pulled my clothing back together. He took the condom off and somehow that made me even hotter. "I'd said No," he said, softly. "And you tried to change my decision. That's not appropriate, so I'm going to inflict a very slight punishment on you." He reached down and rubbed some of his precum on the ball of his thumb, and then painted it on my upper lip. "Don't wipe it off. No licking. The smell will become distracting... now get to work." +++ Slight punishment, he'd said. The smell wasn't strong, and it faded quickly, but I kept imagining I smelled it, and that was worse. And the desire to lick it became this bizarre fascination. Wanting to lick his precum. Not being able to. Pussy throbbing at every whiff of roses. Imagining the sting of his hand in my hair. I was the ditsiest receptionist in the world. By 10:30 I'd run to the bathroom twice to blot my wet slit. "Yes, Mrs. Robison. Anderson! Sorry. So you want all nine in-" I blushed hotly "um, all your appointments at nine in the morning? He can only give you a half hour -- yes, I understand that's not enough-" The only thing that got me through the morning was the looks of pure hatred Lauren gave me. She was running some project in the back half of the offices, so our interactions were brief and deliciously poisonous. At 11am, Dr K came up behind me, and whispered in my ear, softly "My fuckable little slut. You're wanted after work; make arrangements." He moved off. My legs rubbed against each other for the next half hour. I smelled roses and precum and my own warm pussy. I couldn't think. ++ Lunchtime. Lauren appeared. "Shall we eat?" she smiled. "Of course," I smiled. It's such fun to be a woman. Guys just punch each other, they miss all this good stuff. We settled in one of the examination rooms; the only way we could talk with a door closed. "Pearls," she said without preamble. "On your second day. And you're how old again? Eighteen? I'm sure you feel good about this." "It feels wonderful. Doesn't he buy you things?" "I have pride." "And I have a warm, tingling pussy." "And a pink ass?" She smiled, viciously. "I heard your yelp. Has he shown you his paddle yet? It has these little spikes..." That made me shiver. I'd been briefly insane this morning when I'd asked Dr K to hurt me a little. I hadn't meant it, not really, and he hadn't ever been that way with me. I'd been to exactly one website where that kind of thing was, um, celebrated, and I'd left it five minutes later, shaking. It had never occurred to me that he might have certain kinds of toys, outside of what I'd seen in The Room. And The Room was scary enough. "Really? What does it feel like?" I smiled. "It hurts. Allie, you are in so far over your head. Pearls and nice shoes, do they make up for yesterday?" She kind of had me there. Dr K made me shake in need. But involving other people just made me shake. "You were there too, Lauren dear. It seems to me the only difference is that I'm wearing pearls." "Another difference is I know how this turns out for you." "Do you? I'm not you, Lauren. I won't be bitter in a few years because I couldn't let go of myself long enough to give him what he wants." "What he wants is a slave girl. A slutty puppet. And he's already got your strings." "And he doesn't have yours? Lauren, you're so painfully jealous. You can't possibly think you're hiding it well. You're fascinated by his control. You want to give in." "If I wanted to I would. And why would you want me to, allie? So you can feel better about what he does to you? Let me tell you how he thinks. The instant I give myself over to him, it's threesomes with you. And no offense, but no thank you. I'm ok with girls, but last night is as close as I ever want to get to seeing your inexperience on display." What a complete cunt. "Oh, I'm not worried about inexperience. He's a good teacher, and at this rate I'll have you passed in a couple weeks." The strange thing was, we were both kind of enjoying this. I'm not all that vicious and maybe she wasn't either, but oh what fun to play the bitch now and then. She laughed. "So how is this going to work, bitch. Dr K can't see us fight, and I don't want this to turn all junior high. Which was, what, four years ago for you? So we just mind our business and ignore the time the other girl's in that room?" "Works for me, minx." It didn't matter what we said right now; it would all change tomorrow. We were just playing the game at the moment. Then I frowned. "One thing, though. If we do end up in the same... scene..." I looked at her, somberly. "No rough shit, no dangerous games. Did you ever see the movie Chicago? No pushing each other down the stairs." She nodded somberly, and then the hate was back on. "So what's it like, when he gets you alone?" I asked. "I told you. He tries to make me crawl." "And you don't. Tell me what happens instead." "Why should I?" "It's the frenemy thing. We have a common situation... a common... is he an adversary? I don't know. A common problem." "That doesn't mean I tell you things." "It does. He's a very... large presence. We're both wrapped up in his power. He's what we have in common and we can't talk about it with anyone else, so we can't help talking about it here, I think." She looked at me with cool, pretty eyes. "Not a bad insight, allie, for your age that is." "And...?" "Fine. When I'm in that room there are rules. I have to be obedient within at least certain limits or I'm not allowed in again. The lines have been drawn carefully. I can be told to strip down to my panties. I can be told to stand, lie down or bend over. I can be bound by the wrists. I can say no to having things in my pussy and I don't have to suck his cock. I can say no to being kissed on the lips -- and he doesn't ask for that, but he can lick my lips and that can drive me insane. He limits me to fifteen or sometimes thirty minutes. But he can do anything else he likes. Sometimes he just puts me against the wall and put my wrists in the manacles, and blindfolds me and touches me. You can't help wanting more when you're touched like that! Sometimes he lies me on that bench and ties my wrists up behind my head, and makes me watch erotica while he uses a vibrator on me. Sometimes he pushes his cock against my lips, and rubs against me until he comes on my breasts, and makes me wear it for the rest of the day. That's maddening. Sometimes he alternates between using a vibrator and spanking. There's this game -- he describes something he wants to do, and asks if he may. A yes brings the vibrator, a no brings a spanking with that damned spiked paddle. If I say yes he might or might not do what he described, but just by saying yes, the damage is done. Inside of ten minutes I'm saying yes or no according to which I fear most at the moment, the vibrator or the paddle, except I always try to say no when I'm asked to crawl -- but if I do crawl, then there are no limits and that's terrifying and wrong. He's cruel, allie. There's a trace of submissiveness in me, just a trace. He says there's much more and I won't let it out. He's been slowly escalating his assault on me, one small and ruthless step at a time. He wants to make me crack, and then I'll be like you, helplessly smitten and helplessly obedient. And he fucking knows exactly what he's doing and that's what makes him irresistible. He knows much too much and it doesn't hesitate to use what he knows." "I'm not helplessly obedient." "You will be. You're a slut, allie. We all are when the right man gets hold of us in the right way. I'm barely holding out and the only reason I even try is pure pride, and well, because there's a guy I'm seeing. He has no idea what Dr K does to me. He doesn't make me feel a tenth of what Dr K does, even when he fucks me. Oh, and the Chicago thing -- no screwing around with my boyfriend. You'll never contact him, got that? Off limits." I nodded. That was a rule I would follow. This was a sort of seductive jealous hate we had going, and it was strong, but it would stay in the office. It was impossible not to notice we were both aroused. I'd seen Lauren mostly naked yesterday, and it was very easy to imagine her spanked and then toyed with by a vibrator. I let myself picture it;, Dr K was cruel to her, making her sob and beg, and his face was stern and implacable... "What do you imagine he does with me?" I asked, suddenly. "He makes you a cocksucker," she said, instantly. "He takes you by the hair and rubs his cock against you, between your breasts, against your ass, in your pussy, and then finally when you're so frantic you can't breathe he makes you use your mouth to get him off. If any spills on the floor you lick it up. If you can't get him off, your ass gets paddled until you cry and then he makes you masturbate while he fucks you, but you can't come. He pulls out at the last second and cums on the floor, and you lick it up, crying. What does he do to me?" "Bondage," I replied. "You're helpless -- completely helpless. He fucks you, slowly, and you're so turned on you're cursing and pleading. He makes you call yourself a slut and a cumwhore, and the madder you get the more you want to cum. Then he bitch slaps you, over and over, and cums on you. You don't cry but you find it shattering and when he unties you, you crawl to him on your belly and lick his feet." "I hate feet. Never happening." "I don't like licking up cum. So we both knew what the other wouldn't want to do. Instinctively. Do you think that's how he works? He knows by instinct what we like and hate, and that's how he controls us?" "Instinct... no. We tell him. He gets you to open up to him and what comes out is hints about our sexual needs. We tell him what buttons to press. We can't help it." I shivered at that thought. It was probably true. We spend so much effort keeping things secret. But the right guy comes along and we sometimes we forget about keeping it hidden. We let it slip, a little at a time, until we've told him everything, and then... "Does he come when you suck his cock?" She asked. I blushed horribly, and didn't reply. "You'll learn," she said. "No one ever insisted before," I explained. "So I don't... ugh, change the subject." "It's half visual, looking good to him as you move" she said, running with the topic, "and half learning how he needs to be worked. There's a spot under the head of the cock that gets most guys, and you do it with your tongue. Lips count for only so much. Start soft and then get a little firmer. Touch yourself a little as you do it -- the hotter you are the more he'll respond. And when it happens, either swallow, or get it in your pussy just as he comes. Never spit. Rub his balls when you think he's getting close. Treat the head of his cock like you treat your own clit, but even firmer, and you're halfway there." "Um..." "Every girl should know. And I don't like giving head so much. I gag too easily and he's not small. You can be the cocksucker." "And you'll take it in the ass?" It was her turn to blush. "Let me guess?" I said. "The few times you do crawl, he punishes you for holding out so much. So he gets himself slick in your pussy, then turns you around-" "Stop," she said. "Fuck, has he done that to you?" "No," I said. "And it would terrify me." "It should. It- I- shit. I can't even talk about it. And it's not that simple. I have a... I mean, he ties me up and blindfolds me and then takes me from behind until his cock is slick, and then he positions a vibrator, and now I'm practically on the ceiling in need, and then he toys with my nipples and calls me names... and when I'm shaking, he starts to push his cock in there, and it's so fucking wrong, but the vibrator has me past the point where I can think. And the worst part is I know he wants pussy from me, but he won't cum in my pussy, or let me cum with his cock in my pussy, until... alright, shit, that's enough about this." I hated her. She had a secret desire to be abused and Dr K clearly liked that because she was still around. "Have you seen his flogger?" she said, suddenly. She won. I packed up what was left of my lunch and walked out. +++ "Alona." His voice sent shivers through me. I turned. "Yes, Dr K?" "Your little lunch dates with Lauren. They are not a good idea." "Um... if you say so, Dr K." "She's scaring you, Allie. You're standing at the entrance to a whole new world and she's going to do her best to make sure you turn and run screaming." The question just popped out. "Do you have a flogger?" He stared at me, cooly. "No. I have a paddle, and for fun I have a violet wand that I take out very occasionally for the novelty effect." "Oh." The fucking bitch... "I... see," he said, calmly, but I could hear anger creeping into his voice. "Go and tell Lauren she's wanted in the room in five minutes. Then tell William he needs to take up Lauren's part of the project for the afternoon, as Lauren will be going home a bit early." "William?" "He started today. He's doing research with me and he's going to accompany me with some of my more involved patients. He's in back, settling in, and since he's the only other male here I suspect you'll be able to pick him out... go, Alona." He walked off, impatiently. ** I delivered the message to Lauren without staying to chat. I was darkly amused to see her face turned a bit ashen. ** William turned about to be about 30, maybe a little more, I'm not that good at judging ages, and, of course, he was gorgeous. Cropped blonde hair, chiseled face, cold blue eyes, muscled and slim physique. About 6' 3" feet tall. If you've ever had wicked fantasies about bad cops, this guy or a near cousin probably showed up in it. He was just the right kind of evil. He looked up the instant I walked in, and the assessing smile he gave me, frankly, scared me. I smiled back, to hide my fear. "William? I'm Allie. Dr K needs you to take over Lauren's project, since she'll be going home early." The words tumbled out. His smile turned mocking. "Now, say that again, in English, and more slowly." He had a trace of a German accent and I suddenly remembered a video I really, really should not have watched when I turned 18. No, I'm not going to describe it. It was sick. I blush thinking about it to this day. "Um, I'm Allie-" "That is a nickname, yes? What is your full first name." "Alona." "Better. Now start again." I was getting flustered. "I'm Allie, and-" "No, idiot. Proper name." I was blushing, because of a scene I remembered from that filthy video. The captive had answered a question wrong, and... no, I'm wasn't going to think about that. How I Lost My Babysitting Job Ch. 03 "I'm Alona, and Dr K needs you to take over Lauren's project, because she needs to go home early." "Why?" "I don't know. Ok, that's all I'm here to say, nice meeting you-" "Stand still and stop fidgeting. You aren't leaving quite yet." "I'm- my lunch is over, I'm needed at the desk soon-" "Soon is not now. Approach me, you're going to help me with a project, for a few moments." I hesitated. I've thought about this, and it's the biggest difference between guys and girls. A guy would have said Yeah, Well, I Don't Fucking Think So and walked off and instantly forgotten the whole thing. But I'm a girl and I stood there, dithering and hesitating. And guys love that. Especially guys like William. Dithering is like blood in the water to a shark. "Now, Alona." "I- Dr K didn't say anything about helping, so I-" "Now, Alona." He repeated it with exactly the same intonation. It got to me, and I walked to his desk, feeling butterflies everywhere. "Lauren and I are developing a protocol. You can help me test it. You see I have these boxes here... I'm going to draw an object from one and place it on the desk. When I do, you will fix your eyes on the object, and not look away. At that point you will start telling a story about a girl named Alona. She is attractive and blonde, full breasted, trim waist, wide pretty eyes, and about twenty, but she is not you. The similarities are a coincidence. The story you tell will involve the object. When I draw another object from a box, you will fix your eyes on it, and incorporate that object into the story as well. There will be three objects presented to you. You may not touch the objects, and to insure that you will place your hands on the desk so that they cover these chalk marks completely. Don't move them until I tell you the story is over. Don't pause in the story telling no matter how absurd or embarrassing or awkward it appears." "Wait," I said, a bit desperately. "I'm not a storyteller. I suck at stories. Seriously, in girl scouts at campfire time we all had to take turns telling stories and mine were stupid. And I don't even know if Dr K would want -- I mean I don't know anything about this project, and-" "Silence." I shut up. Dr K was at least warm and playful. This guy was all demands and business. He looked at me calm and arrogant and knowing I'd do as he said. "We're about to start. Hands on the table and clear your mind." I swallowed and complied. It didn't help that I had to lean forward slightly to position my hands on the spots, placed about three feet apart, and this made me feel like I was showcasing my breasts for him, in the tight top and shelf bra I was wearing. He placed a pair of handcuffs on the desk. "Begin." Oh shit no! Not with that whole 'bad cop' demeanor thing he had going! I blushed deeper, and no words came out. "Now, Alona!" "I, um, shit, um, Lauren and I, no wait you said it wasn't me. Lauren and not-me Alona go out to lunch so no one will know what we talk about, but, um, she's speeding, no, wait, they don't arrest for that, ok, so she's speeding and we -- they get pulled over by this cop, and he notices a bag in the back seat, and it turns out Lauren had half a bottle of, um, vodka in there from a party last night, and I -- I mean Alona didn't know anything about it but the cop makes us get out and I guess he found some ecstasy in the car too because now Lauren is in those handcuffs, but she says she didn't know about it so they handcuff Alona too. And I- she's trying to explain she didn't do anything wrong but we get taken to the station and then they separate us --um, the two girls, and then allie-" "Alona." "And- and Alona gets interviewed by this cop, and she's practically crying and she doesn't know anything, but the cop is really demanding and asks a lot of questions and-" William reached into another box and put a vibrator on the desk. "Fuck no," I said, and I flushed from head to toe. "Continue," William snapped. "Shit... shit..." Girl in handcuffs, cop, vibrator, I mean shit how else could it go? "And I... I mean... shit... so I -- so Alona doesn't know anything about this but the cop says he's narcotics and there's been some bad ecstasy in the clubs and I'm going to tell him- shit, Alona is going to tell him everything she knows, and when she says she doesn't know anything he suddenly d-drags her across the desk and pulls her skirt- shit, I can't do this! This is so fucked up!" "The experiment must continue." "But-" "The experiment must continue. You will do exactly as I say. Alona's skirt is pulled up. Then?" "Then he- he turns on the vibrator, and tells her he'll be nice if she tells what she knows, but... if she doesn't tell him everything he'll do things that- that hurt... he slides the vibrator over her clit, she's not wearing panties because she's -- she's not allowed-" Shit, I couldn't believe what I was doing. I should never have said that and I was very glad I was staring down at the vibrator. "She doesn't know anything, but he doesn't believe she could be ignorant and he uses the vibrator slowly at first. She -- she should be horrified but his power over her body is hypnotic, but still she's fighting against what he's doing, but he's holding her down and she can't struggle forever and the vibrator is so intense and it feels so good, it shouldn't be but it is, and suddenly he shoving fingers into her, and then fucking her with the vibe and grabbing her boobs and she's half-sobbing because this isn't supposed to feel good and then he put a hand over her mouth and says Listen! And she does and faintly she hears another woman sobbing, it's Lauren-" William put a camera on the table. I moaned, shaking in a kind of horrified shame, flushed, nipples hard and very visible though the tight, stretchy cloth. "And-and then he says do you want to watch what's happening to her, and I don't but I don't dare say it and he turns on a screen and she's over another cop's lap and she's being spanked and then fucked with his fingers, and my cop -- Alona's cop says "I know you don't know anything but you're wet and I'm going to fuck you while you watch your girlfriend get forced to confess, and then he gets behind me and holds me so tight over the desk with my wrists behind my back and it hurts and I'm not allowed to move and I have to stare and Lauren's pushed to her knees and forced to suck cock and then another cop comes up behind her and she's made to get on tiptoes and now she wants to confess but she's being fucked from behind and choked-" "Stop." He put the three objects back in boxes, and turned to a keyboard. "Would you describe yourself as 'aroused'?" Shaking, I fled. +++ To get to my desk I had to pass the door to The Room. No one else was around. William was in back, probably laughing to himself (I blushed again), the service was taking calls, and the only other help that was ever in the offices was part time and never here at lunch. I leaned my ear against the door. The soundproofing was good and words were hard to make out, especially Lauren's, but... "Are the restraints hurting?" A sound that might have been Yes. "Good. You're being a bitch, Lauren. You don't want to yield to your own nature, that's your choice. You're not going to cockblock me with anyone else. Allie is my fucktoy, and if I have to have you in here, bound, gagged, and watching what I do to her..." "I'll quit." "The strange thing is, I won't think you will. Turning the vibrator up in three... two... one..." A gasp, and then a moan. "What happens if you come?" Incoherent reply. "And then?" "Turn it down," she moaned. "Please." "Turning it up in five... four... three..." "Please! No!" "Then suck it!" Gagging noises. [I have to stop. I don't know why picturing pretty girls having to suck cock gets to me but fuck! Ten minute break.] I knew what was happening to me. I was losing innocence. It's not really about Dr K opening my legs and taking what he wants. It's... finding out how deep and dark my desires go, all the twisted cravings that start to open up when you let sexuality become part of your life. Dr K is all about teaching me submission. Lauren is a study in reluctance and humiliation. Fuck knows what William was going to be, but in that one brief visit I felt more like a puppy being trained than a women being taught. None of that should be hot, but I was literally feeling a trickle of wetness on my leg as I leaned against that door. I was raised to believe that sex is an equal partnership between a girl and a guy. Maybe parents have to teach that or daughters will go off the rails at fourteen, I don't know. But now I know it's not true. Worse, I know I don't even want it to be true. Through the door I heard her gasp for air, and faint slapping noises. His monster cock slapping against her shaking lips? Oh fuck. "Are you going to fuck with Alona's head again?" "She's only a girl, she doesn't know anything, why are you even-" More gagging noises, and a faint hum. He'd turned the vibrator up. I staggered away from the door before I heard something that would turn me inside out. I didn't want to know how dark he got with her, it terrified me. He'd been firm but kind with me and I needed to believe that was what he was like deep down. I blotted up in the bathroom and made my way to the desk -- smelling roses as I did. Aw shit. I went back to the bathroom and blotted again. But then I settled into my chair and picked up the messages from the answering service and answering machine, and did receptionist things, the stuff I was paid to do. It took a half an hour to get caught up with it all, at the end of which I realized two things: How I Lost My Babysitting Job Ch. 03 He walked out, still smiling. Fuck this place, how many people were going to get to see my boobies -- footsteps! I put the clothing aside quickly, too frightened to risk annoying Dr K again. He walked in. Instinctively, I stood. "Turn around." I did, knees weak. He came up behind me and filled his hands with my breasts, catching my nipples between his fingers. I leaned back against him, surrounded by his aftershave, my perfume and the roses. My eyes closed helplessly and my body responded to him, and without thinking about it I was rubbing my ass against the hardness of his cock, and then whimpering. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "Do you want to please me, Alona?" "Yes!" I moaned. "I spent all day dealing with sexually charged women, after cockteasing you a little and dealing with Lauren. I'm going to fuck your brains out, and your punishment is that you're going to obey my commands without a fuss. I need to sate myself, ruthlessly, on your body." "You -- Lauren -- you could have-" "No. Yes, I could have, but she's not what I'm looking for. What I want today is to ravish our pretty innocence." His hands tightened on my breasts. "I'm going to toy with you and then use you mercilessly." I was panting. "M-mercilessly?" His hands moved; one took my hair, the other slid down my belly. When it reached my clit, my legs almost gave out on me. "Say, 'Please punish and fuck your fucktoy'" he whispered against my ear. "Please -- f-fuck, oh shit, what are you turning me into?" He growled. I swallowed. "P-please punish and f-fuck your fucktoy." "Again." "Please punish and fuck your fucktoy! Stop, please, Dr K, I'm only nineteen, I don't-" "Again." "Please-" Suddenly the switch flipped inside me, andI moaned and rubbed my ass against him, hotly turned on, this day had been too much- "Please punish and fuck me. I'm your fucktoy. Please punish and fuck me hard. Please. Please fuck me..." He bent me over and my hands gripped at my desk. Roses. I smelled roses. I was submitting. The arousal was suddenly so intense... He pulled up my skirt and then his hand slapped across my bare ass. "Ow!" "Listening at doors is not a good idea here, Alona." Slap! "If that had been a patient you'd listened in on you'd have been fired on the spot." Slap! I cried out like a slutty little animal. He was being rough and I scrabbled at the desk, the wall, the arrivals window... "And spying on Lauren, really, Alona? Would you like it if I recorded this and made Lauren masturbate to it?" Slap! I whimpered. "But I wasn't m-masturbating t-to anything, I just wanted-" Slap! Slap! "It showed a lack of respect." Slap! "I expect respect." "Yes, Dr-" Slap! My ass was already burning. I felt about three years old. "Please, no more," I sobbed. "I won't do it again." His hand traced my ass, lightly. I shivered. Maybe he'd stop. Slap! My whole body convulsed. "Masturbate," he growled. "W-what?" "Masturbate. Or I'll keep spanking. Touch your clit. Now!" I reached under, obeying instantly. Anything he wanted. (I can't. I can't write anymore. There are tears trickling down my cheeks from needing to come so bad. I want his cock. I want to suck it and then turn around and open my legs and beg him to fuck his pretty little slut, because for him that's exactly what I am. This is what he's done to me. Fuck, I have to email this to him tonight. And I know what will happen if I come. He'll know. He always knows. I'm always horny now, I can't turn it off, and the more he demands of me the worse it gets. Fuck, ten minute cool shower...) I touched, ass out, head down. He said nothing; I didn't even know if he was looking at me. Touch. Rub. Tease, rub... Oh. Oh... His fingers traced my ass, suddenly. The hips, the back of my thighs. Touching me. Wanting me. And I needed him. Not wanted. Needed. My legs were already trembling. "Are you going to please me, Alona?" Images filled my head. The way he'd toyed with me when we'd first been sexual, then took me over his desk. But the way he'd just toyed with Lauren... "Scared. I'm so scared..." "You should be, because you disappointed me." His fingers moved to my slit and stroked, lightly. Hunger. I needed penetration, cock... I wanted him to force it into me. I wanted more. I wanted it to be rough. I wanted to be punish-fucked. It had something to do with having seen what he did to Lauren. I didn't understand it but I wanted him to vent his anger on me. I wanted to be fucked for being a bad girl. His fingers pushed in suddenly, and I squeezed down on them, helplessly. He curled them inside me roughly, and my legs tightened as I pushed back against his hand. I felt slutty and it felt good. "Are you going to please me, Alona." His fingers came out and he smacked my ass again. "YES!" Slap! "How?" Slap! "ANYWAY YOU WANT!" "Very good answer. Take off everything but the shoes and follow me." He waked away. Ten seconds later I was naked, clutching my clothing in my hands, heels clicking quickly and nervously on the polished floor. The door to the room was open. +++ Once inside, he took me by the hand and lead me against a wall, and put my back to it. "Close your eyes and leave them closed," he said. I heard him take off his clothes, and my eyelids fluttered. I wasn't dare going to look. He was watching me, I knew he was. One more fuckup and I had no idea what would happen. Then he tied a blindfold around my eyes, and took my clothing out of my hands. The coolness of the wall felt good against my ass. "Reach up to the small hook in the wall. Both hands." I had to go on tiptoes, just slightly, to comply. Hands over my head. There's nothing more vulnerable than this. My hands needed to flutter down and cover my breasts and slit, but that was not allowed. Everything I was, was on display to him. My arousal, showing in my lips and nipples and slit, in my breathing. My fear, my desire to please, all of it exposed and obvious in my all-stretched-out body. I had no secrets, I couldn't hide anything. Suddenly he traced something hard and cold against my belly; I gasped and felt my whole abdomen contract. "These are manacles," he said. "When I put them on you, you will be completely helpless, completely mine in every possible way. There are no safewords, there is only obedience here, so if you can't trust me utterly, this is when you need to ask me to stop. If you can handle this, remain silent." Shuddering. I couldn't stop the shuddering. He traced the cold metal, slowly, over my belly and breasts, brushing them against the hard nipples. Then he brushed one over my lips. My lips shook, but I said nothing. He wanted me helpless, so I would be helpless. I would be anything he asked. "Kiss it." I obeyed. Then he slowly and carefully bound my wrists into position over my head, and my ankles, parted enough that I couldn't close my legs. The clicking sound of each of the four locks echoed in my ears. I was panting now. "You're to remain silent until I fuck you," he said. "To be clearer, you won't be able to remain noiseless, but there will be no words. You have nothing you need to say right now. You're here to please me with your body, only, and if I want your mouth it will be for kissing and cocksucking. When I fuck you, I will be brutal and I will be focused entirely on my own pleasure. You will focus on my pleasure as well. But before that..." He traced a hand over my breast, slowly, and then took my nipple between his fingers. Quick little squeezes and tugs. My lips parted and I couldn't close them. His hand moved to the other nipple, and twisted and pulled at it, slowly and firmly. Fire poured through me in unending waves. Submission. Helplessness. Need. "Before that I'm going to teach you to burn hotter than you ever imagined. You're going to beg to be fucked. The begging will be done with your body." His hands traced over the curve of my hip, and somehow that made me think of the clothing he'd put me in this morning. I'd looked so tastefully elegant, so self-contained in those clothes. But that was gone now. He'd stripped it all away with a few brief commands and now all that was left was me, a naked young woman who was helplessly in thrall to a man who had no interest in mercy. Naked. Oh fuck, naked and helpless and drinking in his every word. "You're going to learn new poses, new ways of writhing, and new ways of aching." He stroked my belly, lower each time. I felt the dampness and smelled my own arousal, even over his aftershave and my perfume. "We'll start with the No Kissing game." He'd done this to me before. It wasn't so bad. His lips would move on mine and I wasn't allowed to kiss back. The urge to kiss got maddening, but I was glad he was making such a gentle start on me. "Don't move." His lips on mine, warm and slow. He could be ruthless but he could also be gentle, and sometimes the gentle was sweet and hot, like now. Kissing, over and over. Oh... Oh, kissing was different when I was this aroused. My body wanted to press against him, and my lips wanted to slide softly over his, it was an instinct and it hard to stop it from taking over. My breathing got faster, and suddenly he sucked my lower lip, and then bit it gently. My hands fluttered against the hook I was holding on to. His kiss became firmer, more demanding, and there was a soft impatient growl. Oh, he wanted me to kiss him back! No. Wait. Fuck! Fuck, I wanted to kiss him back, this was like this morning when I needed to kiss him sensually and I couldn- oh fuck, his tongue, stroking between my lips, and I couldn't move them- He was pushing it in over and over, it was sex, he was fucking me... slowly my body shifted, pressing my breasts outwards as much as I could in these manacles. My nipples brushed against his bare chest, and I shuddered again. I wasn't supposed to move, I'd forgotten. But I was so turned on. So turned on it hurt. His... hand... oh fuck, his finger, he was going to... his finger was... In. And out. And In. In the same rhythm as his tongue. Slowly, but it wouldn't stay slow, oh shit can't -- can't kiss back, can't move can't even squeeze down, can't speak, can't kiss, can't move... He got faster. Rougher. And then, two fingers... Need to kiss, need to squeeze, can't breathe, need to.... Oh fuck, need to scream and plead and beg for mercy and please please please I need to come and come and come and come... He brushed his cock across my belly, kissing and fingering me quickly now, urgently, ruthlessly and every thought turned to a single word, please, please, please, Please, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, and then thought went away entirely and now it was just my body responding, must Must MUST MUST- He'd stopped. I sagged in my restraints. Wetness dripped slowly down my leg, tickling. He stepped in close, and the warmth and scent of him- but before it could even register, he began to slap his hard cock up against my slit, over and over. "Wet." Slap. "Fuckable." Slap. "Pussy. Tilt your hips forward. Offer it to my cock." The pose I struck was the sluttiest thing imaginable. Perched in heels, legs apart, knees bent, hips thrust forward, belly tight, back arched, offering my breasts, arms twining and twisting over my head... Slap. Slap. Slap. I wanted to come so bad, couldn't he see me shaking- "If you want to please me, lick your lips, very slowly." Moaning, I licked, and discovered the bastard had pressed his mouth against mine just as I did it. So I was licking his lips, round and round, and I unable to stop doing it; I was hot and wet and begging for rape. No guy has ever made me want to use my tongue like this, so slutty; I made it soft and sensual and sexy for him; and then he pressed the head of his cock against my slit, and it began to sink in. I cried out, mindlessly. His hands closed over my breasts again. My nipples, mouth, pussy- "I can't," I sobbed. "Just fuck me." My hips moved spasmodically, trying to get more of him in. "I don't care how you take me, just take-" His hand went from a breast, to over my mouth. My tongue licked the palm of his hand because I couldn't think of anything more desperate and servile to do. In response he reached down and fingered me again, still not letting me breathe. I shrieked ineffectively against his hand, no air, impossible need -- I sobbed, and quaking, I started to come. He walked away, leaving me writhing against the wall. I'd do anything. What more did he need? Why wasn't my obedience enough? He came back, wheeling something with him from the sound of it. A few mechanical sounds. I was back to shuddering. I knew what came next. Buzzing. He fixed the vibrator so that it struck me from underneath, just under the clit. "Don't move, just listen," he said. Listen?! My head tossed from side to side, spasmodically. I cried out, my body is spasms, mewing in need. He ignored it all. "Focus on my words or you'll start to come again. Listen to me, Alona! I'm punishing you for being far more foolish than a bright girl like you has a right to be. Luckily for you I want to fuck you so badly I don't have a lot of patience with more elaborate ways to make the point. Don't do it again. No, attend to me! You'll come only when I do. I'm going to put you on your back with only your wrists restrained. And you are going to make yourself the sluttiest, hottest, most willing fuckbait any man ever-" (Hands shaking, sorry if my writing turns to shit. I'm aching so hard I'm crying.) "YES! Just do it! PLEASE! I'm going to come!" He pulled the vibrator away and it scraped across my clit and that made me scream incoherently. The tip of a feather would make me come now. Then I was unhooked and my ankles were unlocked and I was dragged, half carried to the bench, wrists restrained, and his cock pushed into my mouth, and with tears of need trickling down my cheeks I sucked and licked and worked it. I knew it wasn't something I was good at but at least it was his cock and I could do something. He pulled the blindfold away. "Look up at me." Muscular, intense, short cropped hair, eyes burning. His hand buried itself in my hair and I was sucking frantically. He filled my mouth and I tried to find and stroke every ridge, vein and bump. "Slower," he whispered. "Get your tongue under the head and move it down and back up... it should feel like you're coaxing it, showing my cum the way out. That's better, good slut, fucking you hard is going to feel so good..." Pleasing him. My stomach contracted again and again. I needed him in my slit, I needed to give him what Lauren was afraid to. I needed him in my slit, I needed... I rubbed my legs together, hips tilted up, moaning against his cock. Fuck me, please fuck me, can't you see how badly I want to be fucked by you? Maybe he read my mind. Suddenly he pushed me flat, smiled darkly, and pulled a condom on. I writhed on the bench, legs open, looking at up at him as he stood over me again. Our eyes met. "I'm helpless. I'm yours. Rape me," I whispered, as softly and as wickedly as I could. Snarling, he grabbed my throat and buried his cock in me. I shrieked at the sudden violence of it, but then I twined my arms together, slowly and sensually, and stroked him with my legs, looking up tauntingly. I needed this. "Harder," I whispered. His muscles worked me over, and the insistent roughness of his movement took me apart. I squeezed down on his cock over and over, there are no words for how good that felt, and he grabbed my hair and lifted my face to his; I licked his mouth, moaning like the slut he was teaching me to be. "Hurt me," I whispered in a seductive voice I barely recognized as my own. He pushed me flat on the bench again, and his fingers found my nipple and pulled upward. I arched instantly, desperately, and he slapped the breast I offered him. It hurt just right and I arched more, crying out. It made him lose control. Shuddering, he pounded me and came, cursing and thrusting and then I was coming too, everything merging into one vast rush of yes, only made hotter by my bound wrists and my own shrieking- +++ I don't remember the bit after that and I'm not sure I didn't pass out. What I remember is afterwards, I was curled in his lap in a chair, shaking and kissing his face, over and over. "What are you doing to me," I whispered. "Please tell me. I don't even know what's happening to me." He steadied me, and kissed my mouth, slowly. Then he pressed me back to his chest. So I kissed his chest; I couldn't stop kissing him. "You're learning what sexuality is," he said. "You're learning about pleasing me." "Kind of scary," I whispered. "I don't have any control." "Then you have to trust me." "Trying to. I just did, just then, didn't I? But you're so powerful. Terrifying. And what you did to Lauren..." "She'll be back for more. Don't worry about her. Eventually she'll transfer her sexuality to William, my new partner. And then I will have more time to focus on you." I shivered and burrowed against him. "I'm... I'm only nineteen, you know." "Yes, you mention that occasionally." "Um. Yeah. Ok. Um... Listen, when I asked you to -- to hurt me-" "Calm down, Alona. You aren't turning into a pain slut." "Then, um, what was I doing?" "It's complicated. Part of it was, you were trying to compete with Lauren. Which you don't need to do. The rest -- you didn't feel like I'd forgive you unless I'd punished you. But I decide how much punishment you need. Not you. Don't try to set the rules." "Ok." I was still shivering, but he felt warm, and at the moment, very safe. He slipped an arm around me and kissed my forehead. "Any other questions?" "So many. Not important right now, though. Um... wait, what's William do?" "He'll be running some experiments. He's developing a protocol that may help some of my patients. Lauren's actually a patient of his now, as well as an assistant." "He... ran some sort of experiment with me." "Oh, the Storyteller thing?" "I guess, yeah. What was that about?" "Guided waking visualization. It's better to ask him what it's all about. Roughly, he's studying dominance as a therapeutic tool. But his particular focus is hypnotism." I shivered. That moment when he'd told me to put my clothing down, and I almost had... "You'd probably better stay out of his way," Dr K said, and then he licked my ear, slowly. "Now I need to get you home, I'd like to see my daughter this evening..." I shivered, and nodded. (I did it, now I have to sleep, but I won't be able to and then tomorrow Dr K and William... I can't think about that now. I'm so addicted to cock and I can't stop....) How I Lost My Babysitting Job What should have happened was, I should have grabbed my knapsack, made some transparent excuse about not feeling well, and left. I knew that. But some part of me bristled at his tone. Did he think I wasn't onto him? I'd show him. I'd show him I knew. And then I'd go home. I walked over, and expressionlessly added a weight to the stack. I didn't wave my boobs in his face -- I leaned one against his cheek. I'd expected him to lick, bite... something. Instead he just chuckled, soft and deep -- and his erection went wild, emerging out of the waistband. If he'd moved, brought his tongue out, said something stupid and male -- anything -- I could have gone off in a fake rage. But by playing it cool, he'd turned the tables. Now it looked like I was starting things, not him. And that erection. Fuck fuck FUCK fuck fuck. It was perfectly delineated by the soft, shiny cloth of the shorts, every fascinating, pettable little detail, all massive and throbbing. Now I knew what turgid meant. And the head of it was out. Fully out. Fully... oh fuck, I couldn't stop staring. This was the moment for moving away and making some smart-ass comment and walking out of the room, and instead I was watching a drop of precum slide onto his stomach from an erection I had deliberately given him. He waited for the blush to peak, and said, quietly, "Let's not pretend. We both want things, badly. Slide my shorts off and cup it in your hands." My body went up in flames at these words. Rubbing his cock. That was... ok it was impossibly wrong, but it wasn't like he was asking me to give it all up for him. Just a hand-job, I mean... oh gods was I insane? Once I touched that I'd give him anything he asked for. Everything I'd vividly pictured in the last two hours and maybe things I'd never imagined. He was so fucking gorgeous and I was his fantasy. Oh gods. "You- you're married-" "The woman who lives here is still here because sending her away would be terrible for my daughter. We keep up appearances but we haven't had relations in months. I want you to take a long hard look at what she's passing up." Maybe he was lying. And it shouldn't even matter if he wasn't. But I was shaking now, and he was just lying there, arrogantly expecting me to uncover... and he knew I would because, after all, I'd already made the first move. I clenched inside, over and over. He hadn't even touched me yet. I was a freaking child compared to him, what could I know about what he needed, I'd had sex exactly once in my life and the guy had come almost instantly and I'd barely felt anything and oh gods, oh gods I wanted to feel, I wanted to feel that huge cock pushing into my body, I wanted to give Dr K the time of his life and I didn't know how but he- he wanted me to touch him- he wanted- My hands pulled down his shorts. I watched them. They'd gotten impatient with my internal dialogue, and just went off and obeyed him. But once his shorts were below his knees, it was me who pressed my eager hand along the length of that hard, frightening, impossibly fascinating chunk of manhood, and rubbed, slowly. Heavy. Firm. Hot. A sledgehammer meant to batter women open. My eyes just watched what I was doing, I couldn't look at his face, my pulse was hammering- Then my lips were against his -- he'd pulled me into a kiss. I'd expected roughness, but he knew how to tease, even now. I'm not good at describing this, but he left room for me to kiss him back. And within moments, oh gods did I. My lips became soft and eager and clinging and tempting, and the low, soft male growl that earned me, rocked me to the core. He knew how to make me come to him, oh fuck I'd always wanted this and it was ten times hotter than I'd ever imagined- He stood up, hooked his long fingers into the lycra and pulled my top over my head. And there I stood in skin tight short shorts, slut-wet panties, fuck-me lip gloss and a hot blush. "Let me tell you how this is going to go," he said, his eyes running over me. "If I just took what I wanted I'd scare the hell out of you. And we've got all night, so I'm not in a hurry. So before I take you, I'm going to make you so hot you can't think and can't breathe. I like foreplay. Specifically I like making a woman beg for release. You're going to lie on this bench, legs on either side of it, feet to the floor. And close your eyes. I'm going to touch you until you ache." "I- I-" I was dreaming. "I thought you just wanted to fuck -- I mean -- gods-" "You can get cock anywhere. I'm going to give you things you can't get anywhere." "I... not to sound t-too eager, but I'm already... I mean I've had foreplay with you all night in my head." Why the fuck had I told him that?! "The thing with the cologne on your finger... it worked. Oh fuck, did it work..." "Mmm. You noticed that. Good. Now do as I say." I just wanted cock, did he really think I needed- I was going to be with him all night. I whimpered, softly, and moved to the bench as I opened my shorts. "No," he said. "I'll take them off you when the time comes. Lie down as you are." In a dream, I did. Eyes closed. Legs apart. Body waiting. Impatiently waiting. Hands. He started on my belly, setting off a contraction that made me groan. I had to keep my eyes closed for this? I couldn't look at him? Oh fuck, why did that make it a thousand times as intense?! And then my upper arms. He had strong hands, and his touch was firm. Not too light. Some guys, you can barely feel their hands. I'm not made of glass. Oh please, please, my breasts want your hands. My nipples are so hard. I need you to be just a little cruel with them. I need you to make me, just a little. Don't make this entirely my idea. Oh gods, please, make it hurt just a little bit so I have to do what you want! His lips, on mine, suddenly. This kiss was all him, no room for me. He took and I gave, and then his tongue parted my lips and... he fucked my mouth with his tongue. It went in and out, and my legs parted wider in response. Oh fuck no one had ever done that to me and oh fuck did it work. In moments I was clenching in the same rhythm as his tongue's thrusting movement. Then I was up on tiptoe, raising my hips... why were his hands back on my belly, didn't he know where I wanted them!? "Ask for what you want," he whispered against my lips. No, please, women can't ask, we're not allowed, please just take- "Breasts," I moaned. "Mmm," he whispered. "Impatient. Good." His hands, on my breasts. My full, firm breasts. I'd had to ask. And then he trapped the nipples between his fingers as he squeezed down, and gave little yanks, and I moaned frantically against his lips, over and over. I shuddered, and my hair spilled, the careful work all fallen apart, falling nearly to the floor, Who was this total slut and where had he found her? I'd been good for two years, so good, but now I was going to be bad. I was going to be a very bad girl for Dr K. "Clit," I whispered against his lips. It came out breathy and ragged and I shivered at the sound of my own voice. "Not yet," he whispered back, and then he bit down on my soft, shaking lower lip, while he pulled upwards on my nipples. The fireworks exploded. I arched my chest upwards, but his bite kept my head against the bench. My legs were taut, my hips were undulating, and my toes scrapped against the floor. One hand gripped the bench leg and the other wrapped around his calf, and then stroked his leg. It was the sluttiest pose in the world, and completely involuntary. Then his hands were in my hair, and he gave my now sore lips a kiss... the kind you read about. The kind where you kiss back and it's a plea for rape. My belly contracted over and over, I clenched down on nothing where I wanted something so badly it hurt, and I made a noise I'd never made before, a kind of mewling. And as he kissed me like that, as our lips had sex, his hand took my wrist and removed my hand from his calf, and moved it to the other bench leg. Oh no... no... I wasn't allowed to touch him! I don't have words for what this did to me. I nearly came. My role for the moment was to provide entertainment for his hands and lips, not to try to direct or distract him in any way. That beautiful cock, all that expanse of muscle, his steely eyes, and I couldn't see or touch any of it, but he could do anything to me. I gave a soft sob, completely overwhelmed by it. And then he began -- slowly -- to kiss his way down my body. My lips stayed parted, shaking, wanting his lips on them again. His lips were on my throat. My nipples were begging. "Please." It just broke out of me. I wasn't even embarrassed. Begging was supposed to be humiliating but that didn't matter right now. "Please, I can't want you more than I do now. I can barely breathe. Please. Oh, please!" A fingertip touched my lips. "No more words. You've only begun to ache. And you're too used to thinking of sex as a favor that boys beg for, maybe you'll give it to them and maybe you won't. I'm going to teach you about sex that's something that you must beg to get. I'm going to make you my sexual thrall." There's a kind of fear... I don't know how to describe it. Once you realize you're beaten and you're going to give anything that's asked and it's because you want to... once you realize you've surrendered control... something happens. It's not terror. It's something that connects into desire and makes it something else. Every inch of me was buzzing with a kind of fearful anticipation, I couldn't think, I couldn't do anything except beg with my body, wordlessly, to be fucked. His mouth took a nipple, and sucked it in, slowly. Teeth scraping over the pink flesh, as he drew it in deeper. The slow, teasing bite. Fingers on the other nipple, twisting it. Flickers of pain. Forbidding me speech didn't matter because there weren't words for this. I felt a tear form. His tongue, licking his way down my belly. My hands gripping the hard steel pipe underneath me; I didn't dare let go. The tension in my legs and belly. The tear trickling down the side of my face. My parted, glossy, begging lips. My perfume and his cologne. His fingernails on my sides. The image of his cock, echoing in my brain. I was just a girl, I hadn't known what this could be like... His tongue on my bellybutton, and then slower. I'd opened the shorts but not taken them down. He licked and nibbled with his lips along the exposed skin. And then the single, sudden tap on my clit, through the lycra shorts. I spasmed. Another tap, harder. I spasmed again. "I'm going to strip you naked now. I'll play with your clit while I kiss your lips and breasts. You won't come or speak. There will be time for coming and speaking when you're bent over these iron bars being fucked." He peeled me naked, and chuckled softly. "Very nice. You have no idea how much or how long I've wanted this. And you were always so demure. Now goodbye to demure, and hello to hunger." Then my head was in the crook of his elbow, his hand was over one breast, his other hand was between my legs, and he was kissing me, endlessly. The slow, circular motion on my clit, and then the finger playing along my slit, opening it, not entering, not quite; and then two fingers lightly grasping my clit and giving hot little fast squeezes, and then two fingers raking inside me and instantly coming back out, and the nipple teased and so hard, and the way his tongue was fucking my mouth- I was going to come. He was forcing it. I tried to hold it back, I tried, but suddenly it slid free and starting building, fast, wild- "No" he said, and his hand moved away. I spasmed in shock. No one had ever done that to me before. Not even me, when I was that close. "Fuck, please, that's... cruel!" "Hm. It seems I'm going to have to gag you, and that means no more kissing. Or can you stay quiet? Just nod." Shuddering, I nodded. "Good. But I should punish you just a little for that outburst..." Suddenly I felt something on my wrists. A strap... Oh gods, he'd got my wrists joined by some sort of stretchy binding, so now they were trapped under the bench. I squealed and, stupidly, tried to sit up, which obviously wasn't going to work. By then he had each ankle bound to a leg of the bench. Chuckling, he walked off and came back with a blindfold. "I'm so scared," I whispered. "I've only read about this." The blindfold went on. He left and came back again. I heard buzzing. Oh fuck no. A vibrator. I'd never used one. I lost track of time. The vibrator became my personal demon, forcing me to the edge of orgasm over and over, fast, slow, whatever he wanted, no matter how I fought it. His tongue went everywhere -- my mouth, ears, neck, nipples, clit -- and then he made me kiss and lick that massive cock. While blindfolded. I was going insane. I'd never, ever wanted to just throw myself at a man and get fucked like this before. I couldn't speak; the words just got jumbled even when I dared to try. And then, suddenly, the massive head of his cock was at my slit, and I screamed "YES, FUCK YES!" "Quietly," he snarled. "Don't want to wake anyone up, not right now. So you want this? You want my cock? There's a little phrase I like to hear first." "Please," I sobbed. "That's part of it." He worked the cock in just a little, and then out, slapping it roughly against my clit, over and over, fast. Overload. I was thrashing in my bonds. "Please fuck me!" "Close." He put his head back in, then caught my clit and gave it little jerks. He balanced me on the edge of orgasm. "Gods! Fuck! Please, take me, use me, crunch me, rape me-" "What?" "Please rape me," I whispered. How did he know about those fantasies? I'd never told anyone. Then he untied me, took me by the hair, lead me upstairs, still blindfolded... I could barely walk. We were in his office, I knew. Where, in his imagination, he'd had me, many times. He bent me over his desk, and whispered in my ear, "Silently. We can't be noisy here." And having given me that impossible command, he hammered himself in. He fucked me, roughly, his hands in my hair, his cock a jackhammer. It shook my whole body, took my breath away. "Come," he snarled, and I did, sobbing. I was his pretty girl toy and I did what he wanted and then I got to feel this. And I would do anything for this. Oh fuck anything. Helplessly and violently, I came again, and as I did he put his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet and that made me go insane, that was one of my rape fantasies... And then I lie there across his desk, spent, dizzy, as the jackhammer continued. His orgasm was a low snarl, and he gripped my wrists so tight it hurt but I didn't care. I moved for him as best I knew how and hoped he liked it. Finally he stopped, panting, and removed my blindfold. He fell back onto a couch, and motioned for me to climb into his lap. I did, and he cuddled me in and kissed my mouth, gently. "What a nice little fuck you are," he whispered. "I, um... thank you. You're... I don't have words, I have nothing to compare you to. But this is so wrong. You fucked your babysitter. It's so bad." "Ever come like that before?" "I didn't even know orgasms came in that size. And that was the foreplay from hell." My ass was against his cock, my breast was against his chest; our nipples were almost touching. One arm was curled around me and traced the side of my breast; his other hand was stroking my hair. "Glad you liked it. Because we're not done." "Uh..." I giggled, manically. "This is the part where you fall asleep, isn't it?" "I don't. I get real relaxed but I don't actually drift off. Not every guy does. Plus, you're going to be licking my cock in a few minutes." "Um..." I blushed. "I... shit. Look. You know I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, right?" "Yes." He just said it. Ouch. "But I find that cute. I'm going to teach you. Train you. You're going to be very good at pleasing me." "Wait..." I was shivering. This sounded long term. "We've just got this one night." Fuck, that sounded melodramatic. "I mean, I've gone insane for the evening, but when your wife is back, this is over." I tried to sound firm, mature, in control. He laughed. "No, I don't think so," he said. Smiling. He had a devastating smile. He slid his hand down my belly, and parted my legs. "You think you're all done coming, don't you." "There's nothing left. That last orgasm... I thought I was going to pass out." He rubbed my clit. Three fast strokes, then he paused, then three fast strokes... "Don't. Gods. I couldn't possibly. And neither could you. Fuck I can't even think as it is. Everything is a warm haze. There's nowhere else for my body to go." "You liked the sensation of being... forced... didn't you." Three fast strokes, pause, four fast strokes... "Don't even talk about that. I've never told anyone about that filthy little fascination. I mean, it's sick, right? You're a doctor. You know it's messed up." "It's normal. Most women have rape fantasies. Especially very pretty girls in the late teens and twenties." "My girlfriends all have them too?" "Probably. Are they hot?" "Missy is fucking gorgeous. And no, you can't have her number." I cuddled in, warm, dazed. He was rubbing my clit. It felt good. "Wait... rape is like the worst thing in the world. Why is the idea so hot?" "It's complicated. You've learned to clamp down, hard, on your own sexuality. Guys are all over you as it is, you can't flaunt it, you can't revel in your desires, you can't put it out there. You want sex. But you can't ask for it. But you want it. So deep down, you've got I Want and I Mustn't Ask facing off. All that's left is He Made Me. " Four strokes. Pause. Five strokes. It was becoming hypnotic. I had to count the strokes. "So I'm going to Make You, Allie. Over and over and over. Your body is going to respond to it, every single time. Real rape wouldn't get you off -- actually, it does get a few women off, but that's rare -- but what I do here isn't real rape. I'm going to make I Want, and I Mustn't, fight in you, wind up your sexual tension until you're shaking -- and then I'll force myself into you." Five strokes. Pause. Five. No, I wanted six! He kissed me. "I'm going to make you a very bad girl, Allie." "You already have. But... I'm... I'm just a girl. I'm nineteen. I don't know anything. I know what I look like, but I've only been with... shit, I won't even say how inexperienced I am. Don't you want someone older and more experienced?" "No." Six strokes. Pause. Six strokes. My joints feel loose. He kissed me again. Lingeringly. Then he broke the kiss and held his lips a fraction of an inch from mine, and I went to him, kissing him, moving my mouth against his lips as sensually as I knew how. He was evil and he knew he had me. And now I was kissing him, passionately. He'd done this to me. Six strokes. Pause. Six strokes. Pause. Six strokes... My hips shifted, trying to get more pressure on my clit. I didn't do that. My hips did, the sluts. I wasn't allowed to ask for things like this. Oh hell, was he right about I Want and I Mustn't? Six strokes. Pause. Seven. "You know too much," I moaned, suddenly. One finger entered me. Now the stroking was more than just stroking. Impossibly, I was responding. I clenched a little, and my ass tightened, gripping that monster cock. Oh. Oh no. If it hardened... He placed something in my hand. Slowly I opened my eyes, and looked. It was the vibrator. "I've... never used one." "You're going to now. You're going to stay curled up in my lap, one leg folded up, one out. You're going to use it on your clit, on the lowest setting, while kissing my mouth, without stopping. You can also insert it, but you aren't allowed more than a half inch, to start. And you have to ask, before you can turn it up." How I Lost My Babysitting Job I held it in my hand. "Uh... this is really embarrassing. Having you watch. Really embarrassing." "I'll be kissing you. My eyes will be closed." "No peeking?" "I went to a lot of effort to get you naked and in my lap. Of course I'm going to fucking peek." "Oh. Right." My first time using a vibrator, and I was curled in the lap of a gorgeous, older man. Who had just fucked me senseless. This was a story I wasn't sharing with Missy. Or Megan. Ever. I turned it on, one click. His hand shifted, and instantly my clit and slit wanted his hand back. That made it easier to try the vibrator. He'd known that, of course. I was so out of my league it wasn't funny. Oh. Oh! Too much. Just... light pressure. That's... damn I wish it didn't buzz like that. I think it needs to be put a little to the side... Oh. Oh! OH...... His lips brushed mine, then pulled back. Right... I had to kiss him. Over and over. Not exactly torture. I'd never really thought about who kisses who. I'd been kissed my share of times, usually briefly so the guy could check that item off and get to my boobs. Kissing was... I mean... Kissing is like asking, only you can get lost it in and it becomes begging. I wanted to kiss him nicely, so nicely, but I also wanted... needed... to do this vibrator because Ohhh... it was so nice when it was placed just there and moved just so... This swiftly became maddeningly hot. My attention flying back and forth between his lips and my clit, and a reward whichever one I chose, but then the other would be calling... I slid it in, just a little. Oh wow. That was different, that got everything... shaking... oh. Deeper? No, not supposed to. Oh, his lips. I licked them, slowly. Nicely. Teasingly. Being a bad girl was fun. His cock was hardening. That was... fascinating. I licked his lips, feeling the way my tongue tip made him harden. His hand settled over my breast. I liked the way I filled his hand. He squeezed it, slowly and firmly, and my nipple ground against his palm. He hardened more. My clit called, and I slid the vibrator back over to it. Oh gods. Suddenly my kissing went from asking to begging. My clit wanted... more. More shaking. More roughness. And I had to Ask. He made me Ask for everything, and I wasn't supposed to do that, so I tried not to Ask, and instead I ended up wanting him to just do things to me. What a dirty trick. "Please," I whispered against his lips. "Can I try more?" "Yes," he said. Another click... no, too much. To the side again. Just above. Just below. Oh shit right there, just on the edge of sliding in... I remembered to kiss him, and I put my arm around his neck and pressed my breast into his hand, and that made him stone hard. I squeezed down on his cock again, and rocked, very slightly. So slutty. And oh what that made happen in my clit! And I didn't have to think anymore, kissing him and teasing myself at the same time was easy now. I pushed the vib in, slow and deep, and squeezed down on it. "No," he said suddenly. He took it away from me. "Now I have to punish you again. Wrap both arms around my neck, but you're not allowed to kiss me. You have to leave your lips unresponsive, and leave your body like this, languid, unmoving... no matter what." I shivered. He was cruel with a vibrator. That was going to be the worst. But I was wrong. Not kissing back was the worst. I lay there, trying not to respond and not to react, and the torment of my clit was so intense but my hindbrain was screaming "Kiss him back! Kiss him back! If you don't he'll think you don't like it and he'll move on. Kiss him back! You Have To Kiss Him Back Right Now!" A minute. Two. Three. Then I sobbed out "I have to kiss you and come." "I thought you were all orgasmed out?" "Fuck you. I don't know anything anymore. Please. Please!" "Kiss me. Don't come." As I kissed him, he fucked me with the vibrator, stopped, fucked me again... Then I was on the floor, between his knees, and my hair was gathered in his hand. He forced my mouth over his cock. I gagged, and I had no idea how to do this, but I ached to please him, and I sucked frantically. After a minute, he growled and pushed me back off. "Ok, you've got no fucking idea how to do that. We'll work on it. Luckily for you, you look so good trying that I'm still hard. Good think your pussy has more clues than your mouth does." He pushed me over, on to my back, and slid down to a kneel between my legs. He hauled me up his thighs, by my hips until I was spread and open and right there for him. "One more little game before you get pounded into the floor, beautiful. Take the vibrator and hold it against your clit, on high." And as I did, be pushed his cock into me. Slowly. Very, very slowly. It filled me, stretched me, and the angle of his cock pushed up against my clit from underneath, and the vibrator, and his anger, and my need- "PLEASE RAPE ME!" In and out, slowly, three times. I was dying, incoherent, pounding my fists against the floor, looking up at him with eyes that pleaded... Then he was on top of me, both my wrists over my head and held against the floor by one massive hand; his other hand on my throat, gripping hard, and he took me so fast and hard I cried and came and cried more and came again, over and over... -- His fingers traced my breast, slowly. "You ok?" I gave a sick little giggle. "Dunno. Look for something small and squishy on the floor. I think you fucked my brains out." I paused. "Actually, doctor, it hurts." "Where?" I put his hand between my breasts. "My heart. You broke it. Fuck, that was melodramatic, wasn't it. But... I mean... a girl could get addicted to what you do. And I know I can't have it. What with... everything. Your family. Age difference. Everything." He looked over me, slowly, taking his time. "You're nineteen. Finished high school. No college plans. Why is that?" "I couldn't afford it. I mean, I could have scraped something together but I didn't know what I wanted and it was too much to spend on an Idunno." "Hm." He pulled, gently, on a nipple. I gave a little whimper, and he smiled. "How were your grades in high school?" "Stellar." He raised an eyebrow. "No, really. I know what the hair and tits say, but they're lying. High eighties in math, nineties in everything else. I rocked it." He kissed my nipple, slowly. It ached a little. I smiled, and so did he. "Let me put this in front of you. My receptionist is taking off in a month, off to California to get married. I have someone in mind for the position, but nothing is set in stone. You might work out ok. And I'll be clear: this is a job. You'll work, and it's work that requires a brain, unlike being a receptionist most other places. The pay is good. You'll also be what I want you to be, sexually. On demand. As it turns out, that isn't as scary as it sounds because I'm a busy doctor and it would be hard to squeeze in much during hours. After hours... well, we'll see what you can handle." "Uh... we had a seminar on Unhealthy Workplace Practices. You just pretty much summed it up. Fucked by the boss... bad." His hand slid down to my clit. Instantly I was licking and kissing his mouth. I was so fucking owned, and he knew it. "Is this the interview?" "You passed the interview. Now I'm checking references." He bit my earlobe and held me down that way. He didn't bring me to orgasm; he just proved he could have. Ruthless bastard. I curled against him, just a little shattered. "Your wife... she'll know." "Maybe. She'll have to get another babysitter, too." "Can I think about it? Five hours ago I was a good little girl. Suddenly I'm a sexy fuckable secretary love slave. It's kind of big." He slapped me with his limp cock. "I've been told that." "You're evil. Put that away. I don't think I can walk as it is." "You're pretty safe. I'm done." "You're done." I crawled across the floor to him, shivering. "Do you know how overwhelmed I feel?" He curled me in. I kissed his chest, compulsively and slowly. "And I need to sleep," I added. "I have the Jacuzzi going in the bedroom. Fifteen minutes in there will feel like heaven to you, and then you'll sleep very hard. I have to set the alarm and get you to the guest room by 6am, though." "Isn't that angel of yours going to wake up at 4am?" "I lied about that." "Color me surprised. Help me up -- I left my backpack in the exercise room. And I think I want a quick rinse before I get into the Jacuzzi." "Me, too." We staggered downstairs. Exercise and rough sex... I was going to be a mess tomorrow. We rinsed off, and I climbed out first. "Towels?" "Cabinet behind you." I pulled some out, then looked in a drawer for a hair scrunchy, forgetting for the moment that he wasn't likely to have any. "Hey... I didn't know you had a dog." "I don't. Never have." I held up the collar and leash. "You... weren't supposed to find that yet," he said, smiling. "I wasn't sup..." Stunned silence, and then, in a very small voice... "Oh." I was in so deep, and so, so, SO far over my head...