2003-12-04 - 11:16 a.m.
This bit is true:
When I was a teenager I used to babysit sometimes. Fufilling the stereotype of the teenage babysitter I would use the parents' phone, eat their food, and watch their TV until they came home. One time the father, Mr. S, was driving me home afterwards and he commented on my perfume. I began to babble about how my mom had bought it for me and how much it cost and what it was called and -- and so on, all the way to my house.
I had watched all his porno movies, you see, so I had some idea of what was in his mind. I was not attracted to him -- "old", portly, and mustached as he was. But I had masturbated to the same images he did. So I was aware of his interest, and nervously defended myself. Sorry to be boring, but he dropped me off home safely, he never made any other move toward me, and to my knowledge he never discovered that I had been into his movies.
HOWEVER...
(this part is NOT TRUE and NEVER HAPPENED:)
One night as he took me home, he was very quiet. He seemed to be taking me home, but then he turned down the wrong street. "Um," I said, "Mr. S.? This isn't -- "
"I would like to talk to you, young lady."
His voice was firm and stern in a way I had never heard. I was suddenly afraid, heart racing, stomach tightening. *No,* I said to myself, *he hasn't found out about the movies, it's about the phone calls or eating his snacks, he's gonna yell and I'm gonna apologize and that'll be th --*
He pulled into the driveway of some strange house. The porch lights were on, and there were cars in the driveway. Where were we??
"I know you've been watching my tapes, Lauren."
OH GOD! I gulped, then said in a shaky voice, trying for the outright denial, "Tapes...? I don't know what you -- "
"Oh yes, you do. You've been watching my special tapes. I know you have. And you've done it a lot. They're never exactly as I've left them; and I took the liberty last time of hiding a closed-circuit camera in my room."
I thought I was going to be sick... I was so scared. I was caught!
"What would your parents think if I were to mention this to them? How do I know you haven't been letting my children watch them? This is serious, Lauren. Very serious."
I was trembling. Real fear was making me feel dizzy. "I *never* let them..."
"Ah, but how do I know that? You've already proven how dishonest you are, pretending you didn't know what I meant. You'd say anything to get yourself out of trouble, wouldn't you."
I couldn't answer. It was true. Even now I was desperately trying to think of some way out of this. My dad would beat me black and blue.
"I'm sorry," I said in a small voice. "Really, I'm sorry, Mr. S.! I was only... curious..."
"'Curious' is the first time, Lauren. You've been watching them over and over for months."
This was true too. I liked the movies. I liked the scene where three men fuck the girl on the pool table. I liked the scene where the men sneaked into the sorority house and find the girls all naked and start licking their pussies, then fuck them as they wake up all confused and excited. I liked seeing men stick their cocks into the girls from behind.
"Haven't you?"
I nodded weakly. "Yes sir."
He was silent, waiting. I burst out, "Please, don't tell my parents!"
"Perhaps I won't have to," he said softly, and suddenly I knew what was next. I looked at him wide-eyed.
"What do you mean...?" This seemed expected of me.
"You're a pretty girl, Lauren," he said, still softly, and I shivered. "A pretty girl, interested in sex. Are you a virgin?"
I gulped again. Then I shook my head. No, I wasn't.
"Excellent," he smiled at me. "Are you on your period right now?"
Somehow this was ten times more embarrassing than being asked if I was a virgin. "No!"
"Good. Let's go inside."
He unlocked the doors from his master-control switch on the driver's side. I hesitated. "Where are we?"
"This is the house of a friend of mine. Come on, unless you'd rather I take you straight home and have that little parental conference."
I got out of the car, and followed him meekly to the house.
I felt wild relief when a woman answered the door. With a woman here, surely nothing would -- but she turned out to be some kind of maid. I had never seen a real maid before, and I looked at her curiously, almost forgetting the trouble I was in.
She ignored me completely, speaking only to Mr. S. He followed her inside, and I followed him.
It was a big house, a rich house. There were beautiful furniture and paintings and rugs.
And there were men, a small party smoking cigars and drinking what I supposed was brandy out of big squat-shaped glasses that they would swirl around between sips.
They greeted Mr. S. jovially, but all conversation stopped when they saw me.
"Lauren here is in a bit of trouble," he said to them, as someone handed him a brandy. "You see, I've caught her repeatedly watching my porn tapes when she should have been babysitting my children."
A low noise at this. Amusement, interest, pretense of shock. Even in my apprehensive state, blushing in humiliation, I could tell that none of them were truly shocked.
"So what's her punishment then, S.?" said someone, and I shivered at the word "punishment".
"I just thought, since she's so interested, she may as well do it right, fellas. Perhaps you'd lend me a hand with her?"
"Always glad to pitch in for a friend," the man grinned.
All of them were old like Mr. S. None of them were cute, like the boys I liked to think about. I wanted to run away... but I knew what would happen if I did. Daddy will KILL me, I thought hysterically.
Someone put a glass of brandy into my hand. "Drink," they said. I tried, but the taste was so disgusting I almost threw up. They laughed, then someone sent for the maid to pour ginger ale in with it, to "cut it down".
I tried to catch her eye, to silently plead for help, but she ignored me. "Drink," they said again as she left the room, and this time I managed to choke some down.
After a little I started to feel warm, and less tense. The men spoke jovially to me, commenting on how pretty I was, teasing me until I produced a tiny smile.
"You're a party girl at heart, aren't you Laurie?"
"It's Lauren," I said, and the men chuckled.
When I had finished the glass (they called it a "snifter", which seemed such a funny word to me) and put it down, I started to feel dizzy... "Please... can I sit down...?"
"Sure," they said, and someone picked me up, and set me down on the pool table.
"Feeling better?" said Mr. S.
I nodded. Someone started rubbing my shoulders.
Someone asked me, "You like movies, Lauren? Would you like to be in one?"
As it happened, my dream just then was to be an actress. I nodded.
"Great!" There was general laughter. When I looked up, I saw a videocamera on a tripod.
"You can get started now then. Take your clothes off for us. Go on..."
Slowly, I unbuttoned my blouse. The men said approving, encouraging things, and I started to feel like this might be sort of fun. Maybe they were only going to make a movie of me taking my clothes off.
I got up, and took off my skirt. Now I was in bra and panties and socks... my shoes had fallen off when they set me down on the edge of the table.
"Very nice. Now the rest...?"
Face burning, I reached behind me and unhooked the bra. When it came off there was a collective sigh in the room. "God, she's delicious. So young!"
"I'm almost seventeen," I protested, childishly.
Then I took off the socks. And then there was nothing left but the panties. I hesitated, glancing at the camera.
"No, Lauren, never look at the camera. It's unprofessional."
"Take 'em off, honey. We wanna see you."
I took them off.
I stood there naked in the middle of a room of strange men, half drunk, probably drugged too (though I never found out for sure). And right then I liked it... I liked being naked and having them all look at me so hungrily.
But then they called the maid back in and I burned with embarrassment. For a woman to see me this way...! But she didn't just look. She came close, and touched me. I started back, but Mr. S. said,
"Hold still, Lauren. We want to see."
The woman touched my tits: the nipples were already standing up stiff, and she played with them, gently plucking at them with her fingers. I gasped.
Her hands slid down my back, cupped and kneaded my bottom. I was red-faced and mortified... and getting warmer.
"Do you like girls, Lauren?"
"No!" I said, too loudly. Laughter greeted this.
Somehow I was up on the pool table again, lying on my back. My legs were spread apart. The maid leaned down between them and began to lick.
"No," I said again, but I was panting and mewing at the same time. Her thumbs spread my folds out wide. Her tongue lapped at my little button, and I whimpered.
Then more hands were touching my titties. Big male hands, callused and smelling like cigar smoke. They touched me while the woman licked my pussy.
I forgot about the camera.
"That's enough," one of the men said to the maid, before I could come. "Thank you." She left without a backward glance. I lay panting, my pussy glistening with saliva and my own juice.
Mr. S. came to stand between my legs. He looked at me admiringly. "That's splendid," he said. "How do you feel now, Lauren? Is your little pussy all warm and hungry?"
He put his hand between my legs. I gasped as his big thick finger slid into my hole.
He worked it slowly in and out. I closed my eyes and moaned.
"Very good," he crooned. He pulled his finger out, and I whimpered. I wanted more!
Then there was a bigger, thicker, blunt object. His cock. He pushed it in, and the men all around moaned as though they were the ones putting their cocks into me.
I didn't realize then that they were going to. I thought they were just going to watch.
*I don't like him,* I thought. *I don't like him, he's old and ugly!* But his cock felt so good. And then he began to rub my clit while he pumped his cock in and out.
"Going to come, little girl?" he said, his voice low and hoarse. "Gonna come while I rub your little clitty? So nice, rub-rub-rub. You like it. Oh, you're so tight and juicy."
I cried out. I was indeed going to come. It didn't matter who he was at all. It felt so good.
Then I came, back arching, moaning loudly, and some of the men actually applauded. Mr. S. grunted, and pulled out: just like in the movies, he spurted his cum all over my belly.
I wondered vaguely, *Can I go now?* But then Mr. S. stepped back and someone else stepped up to take his place.
The second cock felt even better. I don't even remember what the man looked like. His cock was big and thick and he pumped it in and out with an authority that the boys I had had sex with hadn't known how to do -- at least, not without coming almost immediately.
"Sweet little slut," he said. I shivered at the word 'slut', feeling a guilty thrill.
Someone climbed up on the table behind my head. Suddenly there was a big thick-veined cock dangling into my face.
"You know how to suck, don't you, little girl? Suck it. Suck..."
I wrapped my lips around it and felt the man fucking me speed up at the sight. It was wonderful, being pinned between two cocks. I thought how nice it might be to do the same, only being fucked from behind and sucking the one in front of me.
A few men later, that's exactly what they did.
After they turned me over, I was being pumped from behind, and the cock I was sucking came in my face. Even as he pulled it away I tried to recapture it to suck it some more.
"Greedy girl! Here's another one for you."
I came several more times, when my clit was diddled. I became a mindless machine, sucking and pumping my hips, and moaning for more.
I loved it.
I had forgotten about the threat of my parents being told about the tapes. I had forgotten that I had not found any of these men attractive.
They bathed me in cum, and filmed it all.
I loved it.
After that, my parents marveled when I got more and more babysitting jobs, making plenty of pocket money. "You see honey," said mom proudly, "you do a good job for one person, and through word of mouth you get a good reputation and soon everybody wants you."
"You're right, mom," I said, and I smiled to myself.