Breeding with the Reluctant Babysitter: The Trilogy (3 page)

“Can I babysit for you next week
too, Mr Warren?”

“I think that can be arranged,
Sara.”

###

Breeding with the
Reluctant Babysitter 2

Sara was a year above me in
school, and we weren’t friends. If our school had cheerleaders she
probably would have been one but I was always more of the artistic
persuasion, part of the drama club, an aspiring actress. I
remembered the scandal when she dropped out of school right at the
end of the previous year. Rumour had it that she’d gotten pregnant,
and her few public appearances afterwards proved those rumours
true.

Given all that, I was certainly
surprised to receive a phone call from her near the end of my own
last year of school.

“Hello, Breanna?” the voice
asked.

“Yes… who is this?”

“It’s Sara, Sara Mounce, from
school. Remember me?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Hi Sara, how are
you?”

“I’m good thanks. Busy with the
little one, but good.”

“Great. Anyway, to what do I owe
the pleasure, Sara, this is a bit out of the blue?”

“I’ve got a job offer for
you.”

“I’ve got a job.”

“I know, you’re a
babysitter.”

“How did you know that?”

“Are you kidding me? You were my
big babysitting competition last year before… well, you know. Some
people would only contact me when you were all booked up.”

I was slightly flattered by the
confidence my regulars showed in me and smiled to myself. “I am
still keeping pretty busy with all that, not sure if I can take on
any more.”

“I think you’ll want this one,
Breanna. I had my own regulars you know, some really good ones, but
I’m just too busy with my own kid now.”

“What’s so good about this
one?”

“They pay pretty well for a
start, the job this weekend is only a few hours and it will be
$100.”

“
Wow,
that
is
good.”

“Yep, but there’s a couple extra
perks… for the right babysitter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they’re pretty loaded
and, um, keep this to yourself, but I found where they keep a box
of cash. They never notice if you take a little bit.”

“
You
steal
from them?”

“Don’t get on your high horse,
Breanna, when I took over babysitting for the O’Malley’s they told
me you stole from them. Besides, I know you need the money, I’m not
judging you.”

I was caught in a major conflict
of emotions, embarrassment about being caught out on my false
indignation, angry about Sara’s comment on my near-poverty-line
home life, but also an undercurrent of interest about this job that
sounded too good to be true.

“OK, sorry, just reacted that
way out of… well you know.”

“No problem. There’s one other
thing you can do to make this gig a bit more lucrative. If you’re
interested that is?”

“Yeah, I’m interested.”

“Well, this might sound a little
strange but hear me out, OK?”

“OK…”

“Well, you see, Mrs. Warren is a
bit of a cold fish, doesn’t really give Mr. Warren a lot of
attention from what I can gather. He likes to have a bit of, you
know, eye candy around the place.”

“
If you’re
suggesting what I
think
you’re suggesting, there’s
no way! I’m a babysitter, not a whore!”

“No, no! It’s nothing like that!
Mr. Warren isn’t like that at all! He’d never lay a hand on you,
but if you dress up nicely, like in a little schoolgirl outfit and
just play up the little sexpot angle, you’ll find a healthy tip
along with that $100 at the end of the night.”

“I don’t know about this… what
if he gets the wrong idea?”

“Then you tell him no and he’ll
listen, he’s not a psycho or anything, I’ve been babysitting for
the Warrens for years.”

“
Speaking
of
Warrens
in plural, what does Mrs. Warren say when you arrive at the
doorstep looking like a call girl?”

“Well, you won’t need to worry
about that this time, she’s away. After you get your fat tip you
can think of a way to get around that little obstacle if you want
to do more babysitting for them. I know you can do this, Breanna,
you were awesome as Juliet in Romeo and Juliet, just think of it
like an acting job.”

“
You’re
sure
he won’t try anything?”

“Positive.”

*****

I did everything just like Sara
said, how could things have gone so disastrously wrong? I’d arrived
at the Warren residence right on time in my shortest little tartan
skirt and button-up white top. I even had my hair in pigtails, I
wanted that tip!

Everything had been going so
well, Mr. Warren’s eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when
he opened the door and saw me. He couldn’t help himself but scan me
from toe to head, lingering at the hem of my short skirt. I’m a
petite girl, so his eyes didn’t have too far to roam and by the
time they reached my eyes I was twirling a finger around one of my
pigtails, really playing it up. When he offered his hand in
introduction I actually even gave him a hug, making sure my little
breasts pressed into him. Sara had assured me that he just liked a
bit of attention and wouldn’t get any funny ideas.

The Warren kids were well
behaved and after putting them to bed I didn’t hear a peep out of
them. I went to the drawer in the Warrens’ bedroom that Sara had
told me about and lifted a couple hundred in twenties. Like I said,
things were going great.

That all changed as soon as Mr.
Warren returned from wherever it was he had been that night. I was
ready to go but he said he just needed to check something in his
room. I couldn’t help but be nervous, waiting for him to come back
downstairs. What if he noticed the missing cash? I gulped and my
heart began to beat faster.

“Breanna, could you come up
here. Right now.”

If I could have seen myself in a
mirror at that point, I’m sure I would have been as white as a
ghost. His voice was quiet, so as to not wake his kids, but laced
with a stern edge that carried it all the way down the stairs to my
terrified ears. I had an extremely brief debate with myself as to
whether I should go upstairs or run. The debate didn’t last long,
if he had noticed the money then he knew all my contact details
anyway, if he hadn’t then he’d certainly thing something was odd
when his babysitter ran away.

I walked up the stairs towards
his room feeling like I had a ball and chain around each ankle, I
could almost hear the metal clanking. I peered into the softly-lit
space and felt a momentary surge of hope, the drawer with the box
of money wasn’t open, he was looking at something on a tablet PC
with a completely unreadable expression on his face.

“Have a look at this, Breanna,”
he said.

Mr. Warren passed me the tablet
PC, on which a video of some kind was playing. I thought that was
an odd time to be showing me whatever latest funny video clip was
on the internet but my heart almost stopped when I saw it was a
video of the very room I was standing in. Shortly after I
registered that fact, I saw myself enter from the left side of the
screen and perform the theft I had done earlier that evening.

I looked back up at Mr. Warren
with tears beginning to run down my cheeks, leaving blackish-grey
trails of my eye-liner, which had all been part of my sexy
schoolgirl costume.

“Please Mr…” I began but he held
up his hand.

“Stop right there, Breanna.
There’s no way I can just let this slide. The only question is are
you going to come peacefully to the police station or do I have to
make a citizen’s arrest and restrain you? Such a shame, how you’ve
thrown your entire future away.”

I literally dropped to my knees
in front of him, carefully putting the tablet PC on the ground
before grasping at his hands.

“Please, Mr. Warren, I’m sorry!
I’ll give you the money back!”

“Of course I’ll get my money
back, after the police have taken it from you.”

“No, please! I’ll do anything! I
want to go to acting school, they won’t give me my scholarship if I
have a criminal record!”

“Such a shame,” Mr. Warren
repeated himself but seemed to be pondering something as he looked
down at me.

I’d seen a similar look on my
boyfriend, Matt’s, face the first time I let him see my breasts.
There’s an unmistakable look of hunger that goes with lust and I
knew I still had a bargaining chip. Two actually, and though small
they were firm and full of the perkiness of youth.

“I’ll… I’ll let you see my
boobs.”

One of Mr. Warren’s eyebrows
raised a little as he glanced down to my chest.

“Oh?” he asked.

“Yes! Right now! No touching,
though.”

“Let’s see them.”

I began to slowly unbutton my
shirt, partly because I thought he would find it sexier but mostly
because I was nervous as hell and my hands were shaking. My
boyfriend Matt and I were both in the drama club and I’d lost my
virginity to him the very night we first played Romeo and Juliet to
a packed crowd in the school hall. It was magical, he was my one
true love and the only boy who had ever seen me naked. I couldn’t
believe I was about to show Mr. Warren what I had planned on saving
for Matt forever, but if I didn’t then Matt might go to acting
school without me and find somebody else!

The last button came undone
under my fingers and my thin white shirt hung loose, exposing my
taut navel and the strap of my bra between the two small cups. I
looked up at him from my position on my knees, hoping against hope
that he would just tell me to stop and that he would forgive me,
but there was no forgiveness on his face, only more of that hunger.
To add to my stress, my head was right in front of his crotch and
there was no missing the fact that there was a swelling occurring
in those pants.

The thought that a hardening
cock was bare inches from my mouth startled me by how much it
turned me on. When the idea when through my mind it was like a
gentle jolt of electricity hit me between the legs, momentarily
distracting me from my fear and nervousness. The sensation passed
quickly, as jolts of electricity are wont to do, and in its wake I
felt the beginnings of increased dampness in my depths. I squeezed
my eyes shut, which forced two more tears out to run down the
eye-liner trail, and offered a silent apology to Matt as I shrugged
my shirt off and felt it land on my calves.

When I opened my eyes again the
appetite had certainly not disappeared from Mr. Warren’s eyes, if
anything it was stronger and the bulge in his pants was clearly
covering an erection now at full mast. I paused, suddenly unable to
go through with it. My breasts were for Matt, not Mr. Warren!

“I can’t do it!”

“Take that bra off, Breanna. Do
you want to have a nice life, or do you want the first institution
of higher learning you go to after school to be a prison?”

There was nothing I could do,
I’d played my bargaining chips and now he held all the cards. I
reached behind my back, causing my chest to thrust out towards him
and the ends of my pigtails to tickle my shoulders. With practised
ease I unclasped my bra and felt the supportive hug of the
underwire slacken. I unthinkingly crossed my arms over my chest
before it fell off, still trying to cover myself out of modesty
that had been drilled into me my whole life.

I looked back up into his eyes
and, with pounding heart, let my arms go slack. The bra fell to the
floor and I saw Mr. Warren’s lips part slightly as he drank in the
sight of my supple teen body. I held my hands at the side of my
body for as long as I could muster the willpower then reached
behind myself to pick up my shirt and began putting it on, relieved
that my ordeal was over.

“What do you think you’re
doing?” he said in a tone that halted me in my tracks.

“We had a deal!”

“I didn’t agree to that deal,
but I’ll offer you a new one. I need to feel your body, Breanna.
It’s the only way you’re going to get out of this without jail
time.”

“But… I can’t! I have a
boyfriend!”

“
That’s
exactly why you
have
to do it, Breanna. A guy his age isn’t going to
wait around for however many years it takes you to get out of
prison. He’s as good as gone. Or, I can touch you until I’ve had
enough and this whole problem just disappears.”

I thought about what he said, it
made a crazy kind of sense. So, with the best interests of Matt and
my future together at heart, I let my arms go slack again and my
shirt dropped to the ground. My small pink nipples were standing
out embarrassingly hard, obviously still feeling the effects of
that stray dirty thought about Mr. Warren’s cock and my lips. I
blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice how erect they were.

Mr. Warren walked around behind
me and stood close. I felt a heat radiating from his body, and the
gentle brush of the material of his pants against my arms and back
as I held my breath and waited to see what he would do. When his
hands came down on my shoulders I squeaked in alarm but managed to
stop myself from squirming away. It was all I could do to stay
still as his hands moved inexorably towards my tits, sliding gently
over my skin until his fingertips came into contact with the
outward swell of my chest.

He never stopped moving until
both of my breasts were being cupped in his big warm hands. He
pressed his palms into them firmly, pulling me back towards him and
I felt the back of my head make contact with his hard cock, still
in his pants. I gasped at the sensation and couldn’t help but think
of the shaft of his erection gently rubbing at my head where my
hair parted because of my pigtails. Another pleasurable spark of
electricity hit me between my legs and I whimpered at the betrayal
my body was inflicting on me. How could it get so turned on by an
older man taking advantage of me like this?