THE SUMMER I BUILT MY CHARACTER

BY JILLIAN

Part 1

The summer I was twelve, the summer before 7th grade, that time
when girls get crushes on boys and daydream about dances and
first kisses, and practice flirting in the mirror, my mother
insisted I get a job. It wasn't as if we needed the money, my
father was a successful businessman, we lived in an up-scale part
of town, and my grandmother had left a trust that would more than
pay for my college. No, she felt it would 'build my character',
would teach me about honest work, instill responsibility, and
give me a sense of accomplishment, of knowing what it is like to
do a 'job well-done'. She had even found a job for me through our
church. Mrs. X, whose husband had died in a traffic accident the
previous month was in desperate need of a full-time babysitter
for the entire summer. The entire summer. I begged and I pleaded
and I even threatened to run away, but to no avail. No lazy days
at the club pool, no cruising the mall, no trips to the beach, no
just hanging out with my friends. Oh no, I was to be saddled with
babysitting a runny-nosed five year old brat while my friends
were off having fun. I imagined endless hours of playing Barbies
and CandyLand and cartoons on the TV and goddamn but I hated the
kid even before I met her. She had ruined my summer! As I peddled
my bike that first morning, on the way to Mrs. X's house, there
were tears in my eyes. Little did I know that this job would
start me off on a path that I had never thought of, never knew
existed, would, in fact, 'build my character'. Oh, but what a
character it would build!

Mrs. X and her daughter Kelli lived in a large, rambling house in
one of those subdivisions whose name ended with the word
ranchette. I don't know why ranchette, there were certainly no
cattle or horses, perhaps it was because each house sat on
several acres of land and through careful planning and carefully
placed trees, each house sat in isolation from it's neighbors.
Mrs. X's house was reached traveling down a winding gravel drive,
a good five minutes by bike from the main road. I propped my bike
against a large pine tree and, fighting back tears, went up and
knocked on the front door.

My first impression of Mrs. X was that she had just eaten
something bitter. Her mouth was twisted in a grimace and her eyes
were narrowed into little slits. I was later to learn that
appearance was not a reaction to food but a response to life. She
was a bitter woman. Her husband had died, she was burdened with
caring for a child, for the first time in her life she would need
to work for a living, no more golf or cards or charity boards for
her. In Mrs. X's view, her life was over.

"You're Jill, right? Come on in. Kelli is still in bed, you'll
have to get her breakfast, there's cereal in the kitchen, give
her baloney for lunch, and don't let her watch too much TV it'll
rot her brain. Make sure she behaves, she's been a little brat
lately, I'll be home by 5:30, oh, and no boys."

And with that Mrs. X was out the door and off, gravel spraying
from her rear wheels.

Mrs. X should never have said that about 'no boys'. At twelve
boys were all I ever thought about. There was this one, Joe, with
dark curly hair and the bluest eyes who I had the biggest crush
on. He would be in ninth grade so that meant I had just one year
to win his heart before he headed off to high school and the high
school girls with their big tits and their sexy walks and I just
knew in my heart of hearts that right this minute, one of my
friends, Beth or Nicki, would be sashaying around the mall in her
shortest skirt or prowling the edge of the club pool in her
tiniest bikini just waiting for the chance to snag him first
while I was in this stupid house, being a stupid babysitter, for
a stupid little bitch! It was as these thoughts ran through my
head that Kelli came walking into the living room. My eyes shot
daggers at her.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Jill. I'm your babysitter. Come on, I'll get you breakfast."

I wasn't a particularly good babysitter that day. I guess maybe I
was hoping to be fired. I ignored Kelli as much as I could. Other
than pouring her a bowl of cereal for breakfast and slapping a
slimy piece of baloney on some bread and pouring her a glass of
milk for lunch, I left her to her own pursuits. I watched TV,
snooped in Mrs. X's bedroom, cleaned up the few dishes from the
meals, made Kelli's bed, and daydreamed about Joe.

Kelli, for her part, was pretty quiet. She watched some cartoons,
colored some, and played with her Barbies. I was kind of
impressed with how neat she was. When she finished coloring
everything was put neatly away. She didn't seem to be a brat at
all, but then maybe she was just being on her best behavior
because I was there.

True to her word, Mrs. X came through the door at 5:30. She
looked like she had just eaten a dozen lemons. Her first question
was almost a repeat of the last thing she had said that morning.

"You didn't have any boys over here, did you?"

"Oh, no Mrs. X, I wouldn't do that."

"Well, you better not, ever, if you want to keep this job. Now,
what kind of trouble did Kelli give you today?"

"None at all Mrs. X, she was a little angel."

Mrs. X snorted. "I doubt that. Let's just take a little tour and
see."

Kelli was sitting quietly on the couch in the family room but
Mrs. X just ignored her. Instead she inspected, checking to see
if toys were put away, if the kitchen was neat. I followed her
into Kelli's bedroom, almost bumping into her back when she came
to a sudden halt. She whirled on me.

"I thought you said Kelli was a perfect angel, well what do you
call this!"

I couldn't see what 'this' was but before I could ask what was
wrong Mrs. X had pushed past me and was screaming down the hall.

"Kelli you get your little ass in here right now! Don't make me
come after you if you know what's good for you!"

When Kelli came to the door Mrs. X grabbed her by the arm and
roughly pulled her into the room.

"Look at this, just look at this! How could you do this!"

I still couldn't see what 'this' was. Everything looked fine to
me.

"How many times have I told you, the bedspread should be two
inches off the floor, two inches!"

Oh my god! I had made the bed, not Kelli, but before I could get
a word out Mrs. X had grabbed the bedspread and ripped it off the
bed then, in what I was to learn was a well-practiced motion, she
sat on the edge of the bed, pulled Kelli across her knees, ripped
her shorts and panties down to her ankles and began spanking her
bare ass as hard as she could. Kelli cried and screamed and
twisted and the harder she tried to get away the harder Mrs. X
spanked. Finally, after twenty or so welt-raising smacks she
stood and dumped Kelli on the floor.

"Now you crawl under that bed and you don't come out til I tell
you to! And you, " and Mrs X pointed a trembling finger at me,
"you come to the kitchen."

I followed Mrs. X to the kitchen, my knees shaking, wondering if
she was going to try to do the same thing to me. Mrs. X walked
directly to the sink and turning the cold water on stuck her
right hand under the water.

"Damn, would you look at this hand, look what she did to my hand,
I think I sprained it!"

I stood there, a million thoughts running through my head,
wanting to just run, run, run as fast as I could away from Mrs.
X.

"Jill go get some ice out of the freezer and put it in a dish
towel."

I blindly followed Mrs. X's request. When I handed her the towel
she mutely held the palm of her hand in front of my face.

"Would you look at this! I swear spanking her hurts me far worse
than it hurts her. I guess I need to get a paddle. Sit down at
the table Jill. Sit down. I guess maybe I didn't explain to you
this morning just how sneaky and disobedient Kelli can be. Jill,
I need a babysitter who can help me with Kelli. She needs
discipline. Ever since my husband died she has just been
uncontrollable and I can't afford to have a babysitter who will
just let her run wild. Do you understand? Now I hired you as a
favor to your mom but if you can't control Kelli, well I'll just
have to find someone else. So what's it going to be Jill? Are you
going to help me raise Kelli to be a good kid or do I find
someone else?"

All I could do was numbly nod my head, not really saying yes but
just wanting to get out of that house as fast as I could.

"Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow morning. But it's your last
chance Jill."

Riding my bike home my head just whirled. I'd seen violence on TV
but never in real life. I could not go back to that house, just
could not!

I couldn't tell my mom why. Maybe if I had she wouldn't have made
me go back, but I just didn't know how to explain it and I think
part of me was afraid of explaining it, that somehow it would
turn out to be my fault because I was the one that made the bed.

The next morning my mom drove me to make sure I didn't 'fail at
this character building experience'. I winced when she said that.
Mrs. X met me at the front door, again with that bitter look. She
didn't say a word, just turned and led the way into the kitchen.

"Here, I thought of this last night. Wouldn't want you spraining
your wrist and not being able to work. Remember Jill, I'm
depending on you to help me raise Kelli to be a good kid. And
remember, no boys."

I watched Mrs. X walk out the front door then looked down at the
object she had handed me. It was a ping-pong paddle. The paddle
part was covered in a blue rubber with small little upraised
circles. The handle was similarly covered although the rubber
circles were longer than on the paddle part, I guess to give it a
better grip. We had four just like it in our basement. I guess
the dead Mr. X must have liked to play ping-pong. I looked at the
paddle for the longest time then carefully laid it on the kitchen
counter. My stomach was turning and spinning and I felt light-
headed. What a nightmare I was in!

That morning I ignored Kelli just as I had done that first day
but for a completely different reason. Every time I looked at her
my stomach would flip and I'd get a faintly flush feeling like I
was going to pass out. As for Kelli, she was just like the day
before, quietly playing, neatly putting away her toys, being as
unobtrusive as possible. I kept waiting for her to do something
wrong, I even went to her bedroom and checked her bedspread;
exactly two inches from the floor.

I made her a baloney sandwich for lunch and called her to the
table. I got that flushed feeling again, my head feeling as light
as a balloon, my stomach flipping, sweat beading up on my
forehead. Without a conscience thought I began pouring her a
glass of milk, and pouring and pouring til the milk was at the
brim and slightly above, a dome of milk barely contained by the
rim of the glass. I stood back and waited. Kelli ignored the
milk.

"Kelli, drink your milk."

She looked up at me and I could see tears in the corners of her
eyes.

"Drink your milk, you little bitch!"

She tried, she really tried. She grasped the glass in two hands
and slowly raised it, bending her head forward, trying to get her
lips to the dome of milk before it spilled. I reached forward and
poked her elbow. The milk broke away from the rim and splashed
across the table.

"You stupid little bitch, you bad little girl! Look at that! Do
you know how hard your mom works to buy you milk and you waste it
like that!" I had pulled her off the chair and was shaking her
back and forth. "You're going to get it little girl, oh you're
going to get it good!"

I sat in the chair, feeling cold milk soak into my shorts and
panties. I roughly jerked her shorts and panties down then pulled
her over my knees. The paddle was right there, just where I had
left it. I grabbed it, feeling the rubber grip dig into the palm
of my hand, and raised it above my head. And hesitated. Then I
brought it down, hard, centered on her ass cheeks. The sound of
the paddle slapping the bare flesh shot through my head like a
lighting bolt. I went insane. Two. Three. Four-Five- Six! as hard
as I could. Then I stopped, amazed at myself, not understanding
what I was doing. I looked down at her little ass. The inside
curve of each cheek was bright red with darker red circles from
the little upraised circles on the paddle. And this time I aimed.
First one cheek and then the other, three times each. I pushed
her off my lap onto the floor. My voice shook.

"Now you go to your room and you get under your bed and don't you
dare come out of there til I tell you to or you'll get it even
worse!"

She ran out of the room crying. I sat in the chair, vaguely aware
of the milk soaking into my shorts and panties. I laid the paddle
on the table and shakily stood, my legs like jelly. I crossed to
the sink and peeled off my own shorts and panties and began
rinsing them out in the sink. I wrung the water out of them and
hung them off the kitchen chair to dry. I picked up the paddle
and walked down to Kelli's room. I could hear her in there crying
and sobbing. I slumped to the floor in front of her door, my head
spinning. I was flushed and red and when I pushed my hair out of
my face my forehead felt like it was on fire. My entire body felt
like it was on fire. My tshirt was long enough that I sat on its
tail. At first I thought it was wet with the spilled milk I had
sat in. But it wasn't milk. It was me. In amazement I reached
between my legs and could feel the wetness on the inside of my
legs, could feel it soaking into my tshirt, and when my fingers
touched the source, when they felt the sloppy wetness of my
pussy, I felt that lighting bolt in my head again. And for the
second time that day, went insane. I was rubbing and pulling and
sliding my fingers in and out as hard as I could. I brought the
handle of the ping-pong paddle down between my legs and began
rubbing the knobbed handle down my clit, feeling the end of the
handle spreading the lips of my pussy with each downward thrust,
a little wider each time until it was in me, the hardness
slipping in and out, the knobs feeling like a million little
fingers inside me and on my clit. And then I exploded, my screams
drowning out Kelli's sobs.

When Mrs. X came home and asked if Kelli had been good. I had to
tell her the truth. She hadn't been. She had been a bad girl at
lunch and deliberately spilled her milk all over the kitchen, had
even splashed it on me. Mrs. X shook her head knowingly. We
walked down to Kelli's bedroom and Mrs. X told her to come out
from under the bed. She had Kelli pull her shorts and panties
down and to bend over. Mrs. X looked at her little ass, still red
with the darker red circles after five hours.

"Thank you Jill, thank you for helping me to raise a good
daughter."

That night, down in the basement, I slipped one of our ping-pong
paddles in my book bag and took it to my bedroom and fell asleep
holding it in my hand, wondering what bad thing Kelli would do
the next day.