Babysitter Bondage (An Age Play Story) Read Free Page A

blouse and cover as much as I could.
    It wasn’t much.
    “Silly girl. Are you embarrassed? You shouldn’t be. Baby girls don’t have to worry about modesty,” he said, sounding very much like a preschool teacher. I seethed, glaring back and fighting again to get my blouse to stretch but it barely covered half of my pubic hair.
    “No,” I mumbled again, struggling to make real words.
    “Don’t worry. The drugs will wear off and you’ll get to talk again. But by then, we’ll have you dressed more appropriately.”
    Drugs! The orange juice! The pieces slammed into place. Trevor watched my expressions shift from confusion and back to outrage. I wanted to threaten to sue him. I wanted to tell him his life would be ruined over this. Those and a hundred other perfectly articulate images flashed through my head, but when I tried to voice any of them, they sounded more like pathetic mewling.
    Knowing he drugged me only added to my frantic struggles.
    “Do you need to calm down, little girl?” Trevor asked me. In spite of my raging psyche, he smiled down helpfully. “Are you going to be fussy?”
    Fussy? Who talked like that? Parents, I realized. Babysitters. The last thought burned especially bright as I thought of why I had come back home. Mia needed a babysitter, only now this guy had the gall to speak to me as though I were so much younger when in reality it was only three or four years.
    “Here, let me help you calm down,” he said. With one hand, he pinned my free wrist. As my legs kicked against the air, he slipped his other hand between my legs. “A nice little treat should help you get nice and sleepy. Isn’t that right? Yes, it is. It is right because you’re just a sweet baby girl at heart.”
    “No,” I answered back pathetically. “No, I’m a big girl.” My words lost their power right as I realized what he was about to do.
    Trevor’s fingers made their way down to my pelvis. He stroked me, petting me almost soothingly. For a second, I thought he simply wanted to pet me into submission. Considering my already malleable state, he might have succeeded.
    No, he had something else in mind.
    Trevor’s fingers shifted lower, down between her legs. As she kicked up, I had spread my legs, which gave him the perfect opening. With his eyes on me, he stroked my vaginal lips.
    The sensations cut through the fuzz and made me throw out a loud yelp. My whole body tensed up. It seemed like everything clenched as humiliation and pleasure pumped through me. Panting, I opened my mouth to say something else, to protest or demand he stop, but the time it took to formulate a response was too long.
    Eyes on me still, Trevor stroked me again. He ran his fingers up and down the length of my slit. Breathing hard now, heart ramming against my rib cage, I bit down to keep from crying out again. In my head, I got the idea that I wouldn’t let him see how this affected me.
    It was a dumb idea.
    For one, he felt me get wet. To my eternal shame and embarrassment, the heat excited me, and I was damp by the second stroke. His touch was firm and light in the same motion. It didn’t seem possible. It was like he teased me with a delicious paradox. Part of me longed to slap his hand away, but I never managed to summon the will necessary.
    Second, I started to writhe to his touch. When he dipped his fingers into me, my eyes widened to the size of quarters. I tensed up even more as he worked his fingers deeper into me. Those two digits discovered my clitoris, and he started to stroke and tease me. My breath turned to ragged little puffs as he tormented me to a delicious motion.
    I felt his fingertips in pulsed movements. On, on, off, on, on, off, over and over again until passion and desire and pleasure swirled through my entire body. It was like every nerve ending I possessed had been lit. No one ever touched me like this. Every protest dissipated in my throat, unspoken.
    Heck, I couldn’t talk at all, not anymore, not when he