My Naughty Babysitter

My parents go out about once a week —their night they call it— and even though I’m a teenager and definitely old enough to take care of myself, they want someone to keep an eye on me and my younger sister, Judy. So once a week, Lucille comes to our house.

Lucille is a pretty cool babysitter, truth be told. She’s 19, not much older than I am (16), and she’s pretty cute. She lets me play games, and isn’t too strict with bedtimes and stuff for Judy. She even ordered pizza for us all one night! To be honest, I kinda look forward to her coming every week. I think about her, her hips, her small waist… She’s got a nice rack to, and a cute butt. As the weather gets warmer, she tends to be wearing shorts, skirts, hotpants… Yeah, I think about her a lot.

So last week, I was playing some game in my room when I thought I heard Lucille call. That was after Judy’s bedtime so I took my headphones off and called back. She didn’t answer but I could still hear her talking. Now, my parents are quite strict about her not having people over, or even being on the phone with her boyfriend, in case something happens to us. My parents are quite strict in general. So I got to the living room door and I could hear her more clearly. She was moaning, I peeked through the ajar door and saw that she was holding her phone up and caressing herself in front of it, playing with her boobs, making cute little faces. She passed a hand between her legs and let out another little moan. “Subscribe for more!” she said.

I opened the door suddenly and she jumped, crying “Oh my god!” and trying to put her phone away.

“Jack!” she said, “Hum… Are you okay?”

“I guess…” I said.

“Hum… Did you…”

“See that?”


“I guess I did…”

“I… It was nothing, don’t worry…” She looked embarrassed.

“It didn’t look like nothing…” I said.


“It looked like you were filming some OnlyFans vids in my parent’s living-room?”

“Are… aren’t you a little young to know what that is?” she said, half-defiantly.

“Hum, no, I’m 16… Believe me, I know…”

“Okay, well… Don’t…”

“Tell my parents?”


“I think they’d like to know…”

“No! Please! They’d never call me again!”

“And they’d probably tell your parents…”

“No! Just… Don’t tell them, okay? It was just a stupid video…”

“You know what they’d do to you if they knew you were doing that in their home?”


“You’d definitely get a spanking…”

“A what?”

“You know… A spanking? Over the knees…”

“I… I don’t…”

“Just saying…”

“What are you saying exactly, Jack?”

“I’m saying, Lucille, that if you don’t want me to tell, then you have to let me give you a spanking!”

“What? No!”

“Fair enough,” I shrugged, and took my phone out, “I’ll call them right now…”

“No! Wait!”

I held the phone up, my finger next to the ‘call’ icon. “Your choice…”

“Fine! Fine! Don’t tell them… My parents would kill me…”

With a grin, I pulled out a chair from the table and sat on it. She looked at me, paralysed. I could see a lot of things going through her head.

“Well?” I said “I can still call them if you prefer…”

“No!” she said, and came towards me. I indicated my lap and, blushing, she came down over it. She was wearing a pair of tight denim shorts over her round ass, and I could feel her chest pressing against my thigh. She was hot, and having her at my mercy made it even hotter. I’m sure she could feel what effect she was already having on me, but she said nothing. I patted her bottom a few time, getting a good feel of her round cheeks, then slapped her hard in the middle of her ass.

“Oww!” she cried, “Okay, are you done?”

“Are you kidding?” I said, “That was one slap!” To demonstrate, I gave her another, and another, and another. She tensed and I grabbed her waist a little more firmly. I kept slapping her bottom, feeling the rough fabric under my hand. She started kicking her legs a little, and protested wordlessly.

“Jack, please…” she said after a few dozen slaps. “You… You’ve had your fun!…”

“Oh I don’t think so… If you don’t want me to tell, then your shorts are coming down!”

“What? But… But…”

“I need to check that your ass is properly red” I said with a grin, and continued to spank her.

“No… Oww!”


“No, please…” she begged.

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”


I stopped slapping and grabbed the waistband of her shorts, pulling them up tight against her crotch. “Unbutton these and come back down” I said, trying to sound as authoritarian as I could. It probably worked, because she didn’t protest anymore and gingerly pulled her shorts down, revealing a little skimpy white thong. We both blushed.

“I’m keeping that on,” she said, I nodded.

Not that it hid any of her gorgeous ass, to be fair, and it was already starting to get quite red. I held her back down and started spanking her again, harder this time, watching her cheeks bounce as she moaned and cried out. I spanked her down her thighs as well, making her yelp with pain. The more I spanked her round ass, the redder it became, until she really started crying and begging me to stop.

When I finally let her go, her ass was engraved in my memory forever. She rubbed it thoroughly in front of me, probably not even thinking about it, and pulled her shorts back up with a sniffle. She didn’t look at me, her gaze fixed on the floor.

“Your parents will be home soon,” she said.

“I’ll be in my room,” I said with a smile.

She nodded.

“Do you want me to subscribe to your OnlyFans, then?” I said with a wide grin.

She flipped me the bird, “Don’t push it, Jack!”

My parents never guessed what happened. In fact, Lucille is going to come back tomorrow night. I’m looking forward to it!

The babysitter

Daddy!” the little boy said with a giggle as the door opened, and he ran towards his very confused father. His equally confused mum came followed in and closed the door.

“James? Why aren’t you in bed?” she asked, worried.

James giggled and threw his arms up with a big , adoring smile. His father lifted him up in his arms after putting his own coat away, and began searching through the house for the babysitter. There was a half-eaten pizza still on the sofa, James’s toys were strewn everywhere, the TV was on, showing some cartoons. Jessica, the babysitter, was nowhere to be found.

“Jessica?” the father called, “Jessica, where are you?” There was no answer but a noise upstairs caught his attention. He gave the boy to his mother and went up the stairs immediately, at once angry and worried. Was it a burglar? Had something happened to Jessica? The lights were on in the upstairs corridor, the doors all closed.

He paused and listened. A giggle came out of the spare bedroom and he moved in closer to the door, quietly. Another giggle. His worries burned away, leaving only anger, and he almost kicked the door open. As he’d suspected, the girl was there, with whom appeared to be a very surprised young man.

“Oh my God!” Jessica screamed, startled, as her boyfriend tried desperately to pull his jeans up. The father spared him but a glance.

“Out!” he said, pointing a finger at him and then at the door. He was trying his best to keep his voice down so as not to worry his young son. “Out now!”

The boyfriend hurried himself out without a word, leaving Jessica on the bed, mortified, looking down at the floor.

“I…” she started, then closed her mouth, not knowing what to say.

“Yes?” he said with a glare, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jones, I…”

“How old are you again, Jessica?”

“I… Nineteen, sir, wh—”

“And you think that leaving a four year old on his own in front of a TV is a responsible kind of behaviour? Do you think that’s acceptable? Is that what we pay you for?”

Her blush intensified and she mumbles a little “No sir…”

“What was that?”

“No, sir… I’m sorry…”

“Sorry… You’re going to be sorry. Come downstairs. Right now,” he said, and took a step back against the door, freeing the doorway. She blushed and chewed on her lip a little.

“Yes, Mr Jones… It’s just that… I…” She paused, “I’m not wearing any trousers…”

He sneered, “Don’t worry about that, Jessica, you won’t need them, believe me…”


What followed was a long, hard lesson taught firmly over Mr. Jones’ knees. Mrs Jones, having finally put James into bed, came back to scold her while the slaps continued to pour down on her already crimson buttocks. Tears streamed down her face as she cried pitiful sorries to no avail.

When her bruised cheeks were finally given a rest, she was sent to the corner of the living room and told that she would have to clean up all the mess that she had left with her red, punished bottom on display before she’d be allowed to get her trousers back. She did as she was told, still sniffling and rubbing her round buttocks until she was finally handed her jeans. She winced and moaned softly as she pulled the rough fabric over her tender behind.

She stood by the door, about to leave, her head bowed.

“I’m really sorry, Mr and Mrs Jones…” she said coyly.

“A lesson only has value if it’s learnt, Jessica,” the father said.

She unconsciously rubbed her backside with a pout. “I’ve learnt my lesson, sir…”

“We’ll see, Jessica. Be there at six next Saturday, no delay, understood?”

She opened her eyes wide and nodded forcefully, “Yes, sir!”