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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: Sittercam.txt (F/m-f/dom-fetish)
Authors name: Pervitron@Hotmail.com
Story Title : The Sitter-Cam
_______________________________________________________
WARNING: The following story contains graphic descrip-
tions of a sexual nature. It is intended for mature
persons only. Any persons not old enough to legally
receive adult materials or who are offended by them
should read no farther. Further distribution of this
story--and all others of this nature by this author--is
permissible only to appropriate persons and only if the
contents and author credit are unchanged.
NOTES:
1. Copyright (c) June 1998.
2. The persons and situations depicted in this story
are entirely fictitious. Any similarities to actual
persons or situations are completely unintentional and
coincidental.
3. Reader comments and feedback are always encouraged;
send to Pervitron@Hotmail.com
4. This story may be copied for free distribution,
provided the author credit is retained.
5. This is a FANTASY. No one should act towards
children in the manner depicted in this story.
________________________________________________________
Story: SitterCam
Author: Pervitron
Tom was right. Of course he would hire her.
Gabriella sat before Bill like an apparition, a
dark angel of desire. She was a gorgeous young
Latin girl with jet black hair. It fell in
ringlets all around her pretty face, framing
her black, piercing eyes, and soft red cheeks.
He imagined the feel of those cheeks and the
way her hair would smell if he held her close
and whispered dirty things into her ear.
Gabriella's dark eyes studied him with a
brilliant hard stare. This girl wouldn't take
any shit.
Girls only look this perfect until they're 20;
Bill was glad he caught sight of her before she
passed that age.
Gabriella's body was perfectly proportioned, made,
Bill was sure, by a combination of natural beauty
and lots of strenuous exercise. She was probably
a gymnast, he judged, because of her combination
of shapeliness, strength and grace.
She was wearing a silk flowered low-necked top.
It was made of a thin material with a pattern of
bright flowers designed to catch the eye, and
the ends of it were tied together in a bow
between her breasts, pulling them together.
There was lots of skin showing, warm, tempting
skin the color of light coffee.
And her feet! She wore white stockings under her
jeans, and brilliant black high heeled shoes with
ankle straps and opened toes. Every strap and
buckle was polished to a high shine. Within the
white stockings, Bill could see toes that were
painted a fiery red. She had a gold ankle bracelet
on each foot.
Bill wondered if Tom knew about him, wondered for
the millionth time in his life if his secret
wishes could be sensed by others. He didn't know
Tom very well, since he only started working with
him when Bill moved there a few months ago.
His new job would be difficult; He'd have to work
late almost every night over the next few months,
so he needed to find someone to watch his 12 year-
old son, Timmy. Tom was also a single father, so
it was only natural for Bill to ask him if he knew
anybody.
And sure enough, Tom's girlfriend was moving in,
he wouldn't need Gabriella to watch his two
daughters anymore. Bill never though to ask what
she looked like, and Tom never said.
Gabriella was so perfect for Bill, it made him
wonder again, "Can people sense I'm a submissive?"
It wasn't just her body - no, he'd seen a few
girls that were as beautiful as she was.
No, it was her attitude. It was the confidence
when she looked at him, knowing full well he was
on fire inside. It was that voice; At one point
Bill asked her a proper, businesslike question
about whether she had any experience with boys
that age, and his heart surged when she said:
"Boys are actually less trouble than girls".
Bill was sure she saw him turn red when she
placed that teasing undertone on the word
"trouble."
He felt like she stepped from the pages of one of
the Female Supremacy magazines that he kept hidden
in the garage. He wanted to kneel before her, hold
her foot like it was a jewel from heaven, promise
her that he'd be her slave forever. He'd do any-
thing, anything for her as long as she'd allow
him to kiss that perfect 20 year-old ass.
The interview was a formality, really, just a tease.
Once she walked in and he saw her, he knew he would
hire her. His conscience was clear; Tom had two
small daughters she sat for twice a week, and he
said she was very good. "You'll love her," Tom had
said. Bill already did.
Besides, Bill remembered the video camera he and his
ex-wife used to monitor sitters with a few years ago.
Yes, he would use it with Gabriella. You can't be
too careful, he told himself.
========
"Timmy, I'll need to be working later these next few
months. So I've arranged to have a sitter to come by
after school."
Timmy shook is head, shaking his long blond hair. "I
don't need a sitter, Dad. Other guys I know stay by
themselves after school!"
Bill wasn't surprised. He remembered what he was
like when he was 12. It was great to have the house
to yourself. Smoke cigarettes and jerk off; Look at
dirty magazines. If that was all there was to worry
about now, Bill would have left him alone. But he
knew that there were real dangers for kids that age
now, things like drugs, or drinking.
"You'll like her, Timmy. She's really nice." Think-
ing about the reaction Timmy would have when he saw
her, when the boy caught his first glimpse of that
tempting young body of hers.
Bill knew what was happening inside his 12 year-old.
Timmy had grown several inches in the past year, and
while his shoulder length blond hair still left him
with the androgynous look of a child, the shape of
his chest and torso was changing, taking on some of
the tight hardness of a teenaged boy. Timmy was a
handsome young boy. Living like two men together,
Bill and Timmy were quite open, walking around nude
all the time. There was still no hair on Timmy's balls
but Bill noticed that they were becoming bulkier, and
his young cock swung freely as he walked. Sometimes
it seemed thicker than usual, as if the boy was
aroused by something.
Timmy loved girls - many times at the mall or at the
beach Bill sensed that both he and Timmy were staring
at the same girl. Sometimes Bill even commented on
the girl, but Timmy would turn away, embarrassed.
Boys that age are secretive.
The next morning, before he went to work, Bill set
up the recording unit. The camera was the size of
a pencil eraser. He left the end of it between two
books in the wall unit, just to the right of the
TV and VCR. That way he could monitor anyone sit-
ting on the couch in front of the TV, and even if no
one was there the mike would still pick up voices
from nearby rooms.
But Gabriella would probably be like the other
sitters, just sit around all day and watch TV.
Bill got a secret thrill, thinking about watching
the young beauty, sitting there unsuspecting.
Who knows what would happen if Timmy wasn't nearby.
Like if he was upstairs doing his homework. He
pictured Gabriella spreading those wonderful legs
wide and reaching down between them...
He ran the end of the wire behind the wall unit,
and down through the floor alongside cable hookup.
He then went downstairs and connected it to the
recording unit, a console with five tape units.
He set the timer for the next week. Since the
tapes switch over automatically, he should be
able to capture a full week before any tapes were
overwritten.
========
Bill worked very late that whole first week, so he
didn't have time to check out the tapes. Besides,
there was no reason to be suspicious. Bill would
get home about 11 o'clock, and as Gabriella threw
her backpack over her shoulders, she would bend
over, and Timmy would give her a kiss on the cheek.
Bill knew how unusual open affection like that was
for his son, and he couldn't help but see the look
in the boy's eyes during the brief kiss. Timmy was
smitten.
"Gabriella's cool, Dad!" Bill and Timmy were
standing in the doorway, watching Gabriella walk to
her car. Bill knew his boy liked her, he could
tell a crush was forming, a little puppy love.
"I'm glad you like her, son." Bill was watching the
dance of her ass as she walked, imagining the color
and texture of her panties, wondering if she even
wore any. Bill would spend Saturday morning review-
ing the tapes, not expecting to find anything,
really. He felt a tingle as he thought about the
tapes. "What does Gabriella do all night?"
"Nothing really. Just watch TV."
========
Saturday rolled around and Bill took out the Monday
tape and jumped to a random spot. What he saw
electrified him.
Gabriella was on one end of the couch, Timmy the
other. She must change her clothes before I arrive
home, Bill thought; He hadn't seen this outfit, and
he was sure he would have remembered it.
It was a tight pink dress, with a low neckline,
showing the full shape of her large breasts. The
skirt part was hooker short, ending less than
halfway down her thighs, high enough to expose
the lacing of her white thigh-high stockings.
She was spread out on the couch, half facing the
TV, half facing Timmy, and her long legs were
stretched out along the couch. Her feet were
resting in Tim's lap.
Bill saw them, saw the shape of them in their
white stockings, and he felt a jolt in his
crotch. He had no doubt that Timmy was hard as
a rock, too. Who wouldn't be?
She was teasing him. They must have been watching
MTV or VH1. Bill could hear the Spice Girls singing.
Gabriella would glance at the TV, then look at
Timmy.
"You like her, little boy?" Her voice had a high
pitched, almost mocking, lilt. Timmy was trying
not to answer, Bill could see he was beet red with
embarrassment. "C'mon, you like Ginger, I bet!"
and she pulled her leg back, and poked him in the
stomach with her toes, tickling him. "Tell me!"
Finally, Timmy got a few words out. "Yeah, I like
that one there ... I guess."
Gabriella looked towards the TV. "Ohhh, you like
the dark-haired one..." settling back, curling her
toes with satisfaction.
Bill could almost hear the static play of nylon.
He noticed his son looking at her feet; Whenever
Gabriella glanced towards the TV, Timmy's eyes
would wander up the length of her legs towards her
crotch.
"I guess you like dark girls." rubbing her feet
together in his lap,"dark girls like me?"
Timmy swallowed, looked quickly at her, then
looked down."Yeah," he said, softly, too
shy to speak up.
"Tell me more, Timmy, tell me how I make you
feel," spoken softly, faintly. The silence was
electric. She was leading him on, drawing him
out. Bill sensed she was laying the bait. "It's
OK, I like you too." She sat up and moved over
to his side of the couch, and reached her arms
around him, drawing the little boy close. "Mommy
likes her little boy," she said as she gave
him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
Oh God! The words and the sound of her voice
brought the memory of Mrs. Johnson alive in
Bill again. She sounded just like Mrs. Johnson,
she had that same sultry voice, that same
sadistic, mean streak. Bill knew then that
Gabriella liked to tease and torment young boys.
His instinct told him that any moment now, just
as Timmy started to get aroused, Gabriella would
flash at him, make him jump with fright. Just
like Mrs. Johnson was with young Bill, she'd
never let her boy relax, she would use her moods,
her womanly moods keep the little pet forever
on edge.
Bill knew he'd see the same thing happen all
over again with his son; He sat transfixed,
helpless, like the observer of a scientific
experiment.
Gabriella was whispering in Timmy's ear, Bill
could tell from the vacant look in his son's
eyes that whatever she was saying was touching
him deep inside, stirring a fiery need in his
small body.
Timmy's face was red with passion. The little
boy placed a tentative hand high on Gabriella's
thigh, near the lace top of her stocking.
Gabriella stood up and exploded: "What the
FUCK do you think you're doing!" Timmy sank
into the couch in horror, looking up at her.
"Touching me there, you little pervert!" She
started slapping him, swinging at his face,
hitting his arms that he used to shield him-
self. "Christ, you sick little animal!" Timmy
ran away, Bill could hear him running up the
stairs.
Gabriella just stood there and watched him
go. She sat back on the couch and resumed
watching TV, a smile formed on her face. She
was so happy with herself, flushed with
satisfaction.
Lesson 1 was over, Bill sensed. And this was
only Monday's tape. Bill had a raging hardon,
thinking about the girl, about the power of
that seductive young thing. She was such a
squirt teaser, tormenting the boy mercilessly,
but keeping his desires active too, training
her little pet. Bill remembered the way Timmy
kissed her goodbye each night.
Bill had found his woman, after all. He
skipped ahead to Wednesday.
========
Timmy was laying across her lap, his pants down
around his ankles, his bare middle laying half
on her skirt, and the other half on her white
stockings.
"There little boy. Mommy doesn't want to do
this." She was cooing at him, talking softly.
Her left hand was holding him tight by the hip,
keeping him pinned there. Her right hand was
doing something to the boy's rear end. Bill
realized with a jolt that the movement was a
caress. "Mommy wants her little boy to behave,
so I can make nice to him ... "
She was rubbing the tips of her polished nails
right along the base of his underside, just
above his scrotum. "... Like this." Bill knew
just what that must have felt like, to be stroked
lightly there, and he knew his son would be stiff
and hard against her lap.
Suddenly, that same hand swung back and flew hard
against his ass. Crack! "Owwwwww!" Timmy wailed,
and she spat a torrent of fire at him: "But no,
some little boys have dirty thoughts. You little
shitball, I can feel that DIRTY LITTLE THING of
yours pressing against me!" Her eyes flashed
like a cat, and she bared her teeth as she gave
him a few more slaps, Timmy shuddered and Bill
knew he was starting to cry.
Bills heart was beating madly, half sick at
himself for watching this, but unable to turn
it off either. It was already over, he
reasoned, the psychodrama he was watching had
happened days ago. He could do what he had to
do later, protect his son, but in the meanwhile
he would watch.
He told himself that he had to know everything,
had to have full knowledge of all the events so
he could be there for his son.
She stopped hitting him for a moment. The tape
was silent, except for Timmy's sobbing. Gabriella
leaned over him, stroked his long hair and gave
him a soft kiss on the back of his neck. "I'm
sorry I had to do that, sweetie," she said in a
gentle whisper, "I know you can't help it, I
know what little boys are like."
Timmy was sobbing louder now, his cheeks were
red with shame and his face was streaked with
tears. Gabriella started caressing his red ass
cheeks. "Mommy hates to hurt her little boy,
Mommy doesn't like to hurt Timmy's little tush."
The last was said with just a hint of teasing.
Her hand moved lower down on his ass. Timmy
started to calm down, and as his sobbing sub-
sided, Gabriella started in again, the tips
of her fingers started their little dance by
the boy's balls again. Bill grew stiff again as
he watched, holding his breath in anticipation.
Smack! Smack! "You little fucker, that THING is
at it again!" She hit him, again and again. Bill
could see Timmy's ass spasm with each shot, and
Bill knew that each spasm would make Timmy's
cock jump against Gabriella's stockings. Their
silky feel would keep it erect no matter what
punishment Gabriella was inflicting. "I don't
want to feel that FILTHY PIECE OF SHIT against
me!"
Bill was rubbing himself now. Timmy was in the
Zone, his rear on fire with pain, his cock
dancing wildly in the warmth of "Mommy's" lap.
She kept it up, one smack after another, alter-
nating cheeks, but keeping the pacing and
severity of her blows unpredictable. She would
stop for a moment, holding her hand up, saying,
"Mommy will wait two seconds for you to get
that SICK LITTLE THING off me!"
Timmy would shift himself, raising his butt
higher, risking the increased exposure to pull
his hard little cock back so it was no longer
touching Gabriella. He would wait there,
hoping she would stop, his rear anticipating
another blow.
"You sick little MORON, that was a lot longer
than two seconds," she hissed, "you like this,
don't you!"
Now she really let him have it. The blows
rained down on his shuddering ass cheeks,
Timmy's whole body was shaking uncontrollably.
Like a storm drifting out to sea, Gabriella's
mood changed. "You can get up now, stand up
little man," she said calmly. Timmy rose slowly,
and when he stood up, Gabriella got up too.
It was a cheap camera with a small field of
vision - Bill could see all of Timmy, but all
Bill could see of Gabriella was her body up
to the tops of her breasts. Timmy stood
there, looking down. Bill could see her hand
reach down, and softly wipe the tears from
his cheeks. After a moment, she drew the boy
towards her, pulling his face between her
breasts.
Her big breasts were nearly exposed in the
low necked cotton top Gabriella was wearing.
Timmy's mouth was near her left nipple, just
an inch or so from the spot where it poked
into the thin white fabric; His nose and
cheek were on her bare skin. Bill could
almost smell Gabriella's lovely tits as he
watched his son bury his face into them,
losing himself in their lovely smell.
"Mommy loves her little man, loves feeling
her baby against her." Timmy's eyes were
closed, his pants were still down by his
ankles. His thighs pressed tight against
Gabriella, the boy's cock had never lost
its stiffness.
Puppy love.
========
It was Sunday, and Timmy was at a little
league game. Bill was sitting on the same
couch as they had been, surrounded by opened
video boxes. This was the second time through
the current week's tapes. There were beads
of sweat on his forehead. His right hand was
on his cock, his left on the remote control.
He stroked himself, keeping himself hard while
the tape sped forward. He was looking for
that one scene, the one he first watched
the day before and couldn't stop thinking
about.
Was it on Friday's tape, or Thursday's? He
was almost at the end of the earlier tape when
he found it. He settled back in the chair
and pressed play...
Timmy walked over and placed a small chair
in front of the couch. Bill recognized it
as Timmy's first little chair, the one he
used to sit on until he was about 4.
Gabriella was sitting in front of the spot
where he placed it, her legs crossed. Her
top leg was angled towards the chair, the
purple pumps on her feet just a foot or so
from it.
Timmy stood behind the baby chair, waiting,
looking ridiculous. All the boy was wearing
was his underwear, a pair of Spiderman undies
that Timmy hadn't worn since he was about 5.
Bill recognized the superhero blue and red
pattern on Timmy's butt. The undies were
wedged tight into his asscrack. The boy had
a stiff hardon poking through the front,
towards Gabriella.
Bill adjusted his hand motion.
"Sit down, Timmy." The boy complied, perched
on the edge of his seat, his blond hair falling
down over his face, hiding it from Bill.
"Are you ready for today's lesson, Timmy?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what!" She got up from the couch and
started walking around him, the shift of her
body as she stepped was punctuated by the
sound of her heels. She was holding something.
"Y-Y-Yes, Mommy?"
She was holding a pair of playtex yellow
rubber gloves. She was walking around him,
taking her sweet time and stepping hard,
enjoying the crack of her heels against the
wooden floor. She clutched the gloves,
pulling and stretching them roughly between
her hands.
"That's better. Tell me, Timmy, why are you
wearing those stupid little undies?"
"Y-y-you t-t-told me to M-m-m-m-m-ommy."
"Are you just acting STUPID, you little cock-
sucker? God, what a fuckin' dork. You're
wearing those prissy boy undies because you're
a FUCKING BABY!"
She leaned over him, her hands on her hips. You
couldn't see her face because of the camera angle,
but Bill could clearly see the wide-eyed look of
fear on Timmy's face as he looked up at her.
Without realizing it, Timmy reached his hands to
the front of his undies, and started rubbing him-
self through the cotton fabric, consoling himself
as young boys do.
"You filthy little shit. Get you're hands off
that RIDICULOUS LITTLE THING! What a sorry little
excuse for a boy you are!"
And with that she straightened up, lifted one foot
to his chest and started pushing with her heel
against his chest, angling the chair back. Timmy's
feet were still on the ground, but the way he was
positioned, his whole upper body was balanced
awkwardly on the rear legs of the chair; She could
topple him over with the slightest additional push
of her foot. He moved just enough to comply, taking
his hands away from his crotch, but that was it.
He was afraid any other sharp movement would tip
the chair over.
"M-m-m-mommy, please!" Timmy was crying now.
Bill started moving his hand faster, putting the
remote down and using his free hand to caress his
balls. It was coming.
Gabriella slowly let the chair down. "Tell you
what, sweetie..." She was switching gears now,
moving in for the kill, "Mommy knows what you
want. Do you believe that?"
"Yes Mommy..."
"Mommy knows what little boys like. You like to
rub yourself, don't you?" She was whispering,
leaning down over him, the stillness of her hushed
voice reached deep into the boy, like a prayer.
"Tell Mommy what you like."
"I like to rub myself." Timmy sounded far away,
as if he was in some sort of trance.
"Tell Mommy that Timmy likes to rub his little
winkie."
"I like to rub my little winkie."
"And tell Mommy what you think about?"
"I think - about you, Mommy."
Bill's heart was beating feverishly, his hand was
rubbing his own cock raw as he watched Gabriella,
loving the sound of arousal in her teasing voice.
"Go ahead, Timmy, go ahead, rub yourself while
you're telling me." Gabriella sat back on the
couch, and crossed her legs the same way she had
done before. This time she let her pump dangle,
swinging it in front of the boy, like a hypnotist.
"Sure Timmy, pull those little undies down, you
little BABY!" She was laughing, a high pitched,
quick little giggle that sent a delicious thrill
through Bill's groin.
Timmy slid his undies around his ankles and started
rubbing himself, rubbing his little peter.
"Timmy I can't even see that little thing. Are
you sure its all the way up?" Timmy was rubbing
like a boy scout trying to start a fire, his body
perched on the baby seat, his hair flailing all
around as he did himself. Gabriella taunted him.
All Bill could see of her was her legs, from the
thigh tops of her stocking to the dangling pump.
But that voice, that musical, sweet vixen voice
was tearing his guts out. So cruel it was, so
knowing.
"You're not saying anything, Timmy, I though you
were going to tell Mommy what it was you thought
about. Something you can't say?" You could hear
the play in her voice, the inner smirk. She let
her pump drop to the floor. She started flexing
her toes in front of Timmy, flexing them slowly
within their mesh of white nylon, the gold of her
ankle bracelet glittering. "Maybe it's my feet?"
Her voice turned slightly, some annoyance coming
to the surface.
"Lick my feet, you little shithole!"
Some precum formed on the tip of Bills cock,
making it slick.
She pushed her foot into Timmy's face, "Go ahead,
you little shit! Sniff my feet while you wank
your LITTLE PUD. Get a good sniff, you little puke,
you'll be doing this you're whole life!"
Bills whole body stiffened, and he shot his huge
load of spunk all over his hand. He paused the
tape while he cleaned himself.
========
It was so strange. There was no sign of any effect
on Timmy during the week. Bill knew what it was
like to be worked over like that. That was the
reason he was the way he was. The imprint of those
early experiences with Mrs. Johnson had left him
a boyhood of shame, and an adult lifetime of seek-
ing that excitement again. But Timmy seemed as
happy as ever, giving Gabriella a big smile and a
kiss as she left each day.
That was why he hesitated. Could he be imagining
this?
"Tom, are you sure Gabriella is good with the kids?"
"Sure, Becky and Linda both love her." Tom sounded
so reassuring on the phone. "Besides," he said,
man-to-man, "with a body like that, I'd keep her
around even if she wasn't that good. She is one
fine piece of ass." He hesitated, "You had her
yet?"
"No, you?" Bill was amazed.
"No, I wish, but she seems so cold. I can't stop
hoping though. Mmmmmm!"
=========
"Was Timmy a good boy today, Gabriella?" Bill asked
evenly, trying not to add any emphasis whatsoever
to "good boy."
"Oh, that son of yours," Gabriella threw her back-
pack on and looked back at him as she was walking
out the door. "He's really no trouble, very well
behaved."
Bill thought he caught a spark, something extra in
the dark eyes as they looked back over her shoulder.
"He's really sweet."
Bill watched her leave, and wondered. He watched
the swing of her ass, the smooth shape of it rocking
in her jeans, the way the ringlets of her jet black
hair shook slightly as her body moved. And the feet!
Barefoot beneath her jeans, she was wearing sandals
today.
Bill caught a glimpse the dark purple nail polish
before she turned away. Her insteps and toes were
the color of beach sand.
"Bye now!" She looked back quickly over her shoulder
at him, and winked. She knew he was watching her,
and the light in her eyes and the curl of her lips
said she liked it.
Bill thought about her all through dinner. Timmy
was quiet, pensive, and Bill wondered what had
happened today. He'd watch the tape once Timmy was
asleep. Bill couldn't get that look she had out of
his mind, the way her knowing eyes looked through
him at that last goodbye.
He was sure she knew all about him, knew he was
just like Timmy inside, hanging on every inflection
of her voice, loving the sound of her laughing at
him. Bill was hard as a rock.
"Timmy, I think we're going to stop using Gabriella."
Bill surprised himself by saying this, shocked that
the decent father within him spoke up.
"C'mon Dad!!" Timmy's blue eyes brightened. He was
pleading. "C'mon, I like her, we get along great!
Why?"
Bill knew what was going on inside his little boy,
he knew that Gabriella had captured the boy's soul.
It would be just like Mrs. Johnson was with him.
He'd spend the rest of his life thinking about her,
trying to recapture the thrill of having a woman
speak to him with that amused contempt, the inner
tingle at the sight of a strong woman glaring down
at him with pitiless eyes. So many times Bill
thought he found the woman, only to suffer dis-
appointment when she just didn't get it. He hated
all those times he risked showing a part of him-
self to a woman, gave the woman an opening,
practically begged her for some abuse, only to
have her stare back at him, blankly, puzzled at
what was going on.
Bill would give anything for one afternoon with
Mrs. Johnson, any woman who loved the thrill of
climbing on top.
Of, course, Bill thought. That's why Timmy doesn't
show any effect. Bill realized that his inner pain
only started after Mrs. Johnson left. Anyone who
saw him before then would see only a happy boy,
because the presence of the woman in his life com-
pletely enthralled him. It was only afterward, when
he realized that he'd never know anything like
those feelings again, and that those feelings could
never be openly shared with anyone, that he grew
unhappy and morose.
"C'mon Dad, pleeeasee?"
Bill knew what the right thing to do was. The boy's
soul was already marked, and there was no good reason
to deny him Gabriella. Let the boy have his fill
of her, because a woman like that is so hard find
again.
"Ok, son, I guess if you like her that much..."
========
That second week, Bill checked the tapes every night.
He wasn't about to wait until the end of the week.
Each night, after Timmy was asleep, Bill got ready.
He took the tape out of the machine, and placed it in
the VCR. He got himself a beer and a box of tissues,
and settled back in his recliner with the remote,
fast forwarding, looking for action. He stopped
when he saw Timmy.
Timmy was standing right up against the camera,
probably looking for the remote or a tape to watch
on top of the wall unit where the camera was
located. He could hear Timmy looking for something,
moving things around.
Bill heard the VCR mechanism; Timmy was going to
watch a tape. Timmy sat back on the couch with
the remote. This is weird, Bill thought. Here I
am watching Timmy, and it looks like he's watching
me. Bill was also puzzled, since there was no
sign of Gabriella.
Timmy was fast forwarding, like he was looking for
something. He pressed play. At first all Bill
could hear was cheap music, then silence. Movement
he couldn't quite decipher, and low voices. A man's
voice, and a woman's. The man would ask a question,
and the woman would answer, usually with a giggle.
It was like an interview.
Timmy hit the fast forward, running the tape for a
minute or so, then played it at normal speed. Bill
could hear the man's voice again. "Ohhhhh yeah,
baby, suck that cock." Timmy was watching an
X-rated movie. Where did that come from? Bill
kept his collection locked. Hel watched his son
slide his pants down and start to rub himself.
Bill realized why Gabriella was gone. She set a
trap for the boy, leaving a tape around, and going
out knowing the boy would find it. The situation
got Bill hard too, the sight of his son there,
pulling his meat watching a blow job on the big
TV, not realizing what was in store for him.
But Bill knew, he knew the scene, and how the game
was played. Gabriella would appear at any moment,
and Timmy would have to answer for what he was
doing. Bill started to stroke himself in anticipa-
tion, leaning back in the recliner, looking across
his cock at his son.
Bill thought of speeding ahead, to see if indeed
Gabriella would spring out at the boy. But he
didn't want to, not just yet. The sight of his
son there was just so sweet, the way the boy
looked with longing at the screen, delaying his
gratification just like Bill was, loving the deep
hypnotic sight of sex on the screen.
"You're at it again, you little fucker!" Bill
jumped when he heard Gabriella's voice, as if she
was his tormentor, not his son's. Timmy was des-
perately trying to cover himself, both hands
working to close his pants over his pecker.
Gabriella glared at the screen: "Fuck, look at
this shit you're watching. You little shitbag,
you get off thinking woman will put that SORRY
ASS THING in their mouth!" She stood over him
in her high heels. "Stand up!"
Timmy tried to pull his pants up as he stood, but
she said: "No, you like having that THING out so
much, leave it out! Don't you move a FUCKING INCH!"
Bill could hear her heels on the floor, walking
away towards the kitchen. Timmy just stood there
in front of the camera, his pants around his knees.
Despite his surprise, he was still fully erect,
Bill knew where his mind was at with Gabriella;
He was beyond shame and embarrassment. The boy
was still looking at the TV, staring wide-eyed
at the blow job, as if he knew his role in the
drama.
Gabriella's footsteps grew louder, and before she
was back her voice started; "Didn't you hear
what I said, you SICK LITTLE ASSHOLE! Why are
you still watching that shit! Turn it off!"
Timmy moved as quickly as he could towards the
TV, almost waddling because his pants were still
down. He turned it off.
She stood before him. Again, her face was off the
top of the screen. Timmy wasn't looking up at her,
he just stared at what she was holding. The same
pair of yellow playtex gloves.
"Listen, you little PUKE: What do you think I have
these for?"
"I-I-I don't know." Bill could hardly hear the boy.
"I don't know WHAT?"
"I don't know, Mommy." Bill could see that Timmy
was looking at the gloves, and he could also see
that the boy was still hard.
"Well sometimes Mommy uses these if she has to
touch something gross, something DIRTY. Do you
know why I brought them here?"
Timmy just looked at up her, looked with his mouth
open.
"Answer me, you little SHIT!"
Bill could see Timmy's lips moving, he saw the
imploring way he looked at her, and without
actually hearing the words he knew what his son
said.
"That's not how we say it, though, TIMMY. We have
a name for that USELESS LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT! Use
it!" Her hands clenched and tightened around the
playtex gloves.
Bill noticed Gabriella's breasts. They were heaving
with passion, the nipples moving in front of Timmy's
face.
"Mommy ... might ... touch my ... my ... winkie."
Timmy sounded relieved to get the words out, he
was looking again at her hands stretching the
gloves. Perhaps hoping...
"Timmy, look at these gloves, see how rubbery they
are..." she was stretching them between her hands.
"... See I can pull way, way back, they're like
rubber bands! Look at me Timmy."
Timmy did as he was told, tearing his eyes away
from the gloves, looking up at her. Bill could
see Gabriella stretch the gloves as far as they
would go, Gabriella's biceps were hard with
tension, shaking, ready to let the gloves fly.
The gloves were pointed right at Timmy's cock.
It wasn't hard anymore.
"Timmy, look at my eyes. Let's play a game. Lets
see how well you know Mommy." Her voice was honey
sweet, sounding so lovely, so soft, so loving.
"Ever get smacked with a rubber band? LOOK AT ME!
Imagine what a hard rubber band snapping in a
SENSITIVE PART OF YOUR BODY would feel like?"
Timmy continued to look up, knowing exactly what
she meant, but afraid to look down from those eyes.
"See if you know Mommy. Do you think, TIMMY, that
Mommy might be angry if her little boy has DIRTY
THOUGHTS about other WOMEN?"
"Y-y-y-yes Mommy"
"Bingo!" she said, as she let the gloves snap.
Timmy went down like he was hit with a stun gun,
he was doubled over in pain, holding his wounded
nuts, fighting back the tears.
Gabriella started pacing, walking around him like
a dead carcass, whistling softly to herself while
she gave the boy a moment to recover. She wasn't
done yet.
When Timmy straightened up he was facing the
camera. His face was covered with hot tears, and
his hands were still covering his balls.
Gabriella stopped walking, and came up behind him,
placing her hands gently on his shoulder.
"Silly boy," she whispered in his ear, "you'd
rather Mommy was nice to you right?"
"Y-y-yes please, Mommy," still sniveling.
"You know, sweetie, there's a way you can always
have the nice Mommy." Her hands moved from his
shoulders, down his sides, and slowly, softly
moved to Timmy's belly.
She started tracing gentle little circles around
his bellybutton with the tips of her long nails.
Slowly widening circles.
"Do you know what surrender means, Timmy?" Her hand
stopped, waiting for his response.
Timmy didn't know what to say. He watched her still
hand on his belly.
"You're little PUD knows what surrender means, baby.
See, it responds to me." Sure enough, even keeping
her hand still, her words started the excitement
in the boy again. "Cocks are such funny things; Do
you have any idea how FUCKED UP that little THING
looks?"
Timmy's cock was becoming aroused.
"Let me tell you Timmy, if you ever showed that
THING to any other girl, why she'd just GIGGLE!"
Timmy's cock was still coming alive, the mockery
only hastening its reappearance.
"Look, you little shitheel, you little SISSY ASS
TWINK, look how that THING of your likes this shit!"
Timmy looked down on it like it belonged to someone
else - it was hard as a rock now.
Bill stopped the tape. This was too much; He needed
to take a moment. He thought about Mrs. Johnson.
The sounds Gabriella made in her throat when she
said those cruel things brought it all flooding
back to Bill. Mrs. Johnson in her corset, watching
tiny Billy rubbing himself, giggling at him while
he tried to bring himself off.
Oh, Bill loved that feeling, all his life he
searched for someone like Mrs. Johnson, he listen-
ed carefully to every woman's voice, and watched
their eyes whenever he saw one get angry. Looking,
always looking for that fire. And now he found her!
He pressed play. Gabriella and Timmy resumed their
drama.
"You know what a SISSY is, don't you, TIMMY?"
Gabriella took her hand from his belly, and moved
it behind Timmy. Bill knew she was scratching
the boy's ass.
"Y-y-y-es ..... Mommy." Timmy sounded like he was
dreaming.
"I'll bet you've been called that, haven't you."
Gabriella was speaking so softly, her wet lips
drawing out every word. "Lots of times, I bet.
Right, my little SISSY?"
"Y-y-y-es, boys call me that." Timmy closed his
eyes, you could see the boy was going down where
he'd never been before. Speaking secrets out loud,
secret feelings that made his little cock hard.
"I'll bet they're real boys too, big strong boys,
tough boys with REAL BIG, THICK COCKS. What's
that like, TIMMY, when those boys call you that?"
"I-i-i-t feels .... funny?"
"FUNNY? think this is FUNNY you little shit?
Want me to get those gloves again?" The same deep
anger, the slow burn, deep guttural sound that
made Bill cock jump.
"I-I-I mean, it feels .... g-good?"
"Yeah, you got that right, you sick little FAIRY.
C'mon, you little QUEER, come with me!"
BILL heard her steps on the floor as she walked
away. Timmy followed. Bill could tell by the
footfalls that they were going upstairs. The
sounds dropped away. The tape was silent and
motionless. Bill pressed fast forward.
When Bill saw Gabriella come back into view he
resumed normal tape speed. Timmy wasn't there.
Gabriella sat on the couch and picked up the
remote herself; She was watching the tape again,
the same tape Timmy started watching to set the
whole scene off.
Bill could hear the man's voice from the tape:
"Yeah baby, suck my big cock. Get it all the way
down your throat."
Gabriella paused the tape and called out, "C'mon
down, SISSY-POO!"
When Timmy appeared, Bill's heart leaped. Timmy
was dressed like a little girl. Gabriella had
braided his long blond hair into two pigtails,
each with a pink bow on the end. He was wearing
a bright yellow jumper with a pattern of red
hearts all over it. It clung tightly to the
boy's body. The shape of it against Timmy's still
childish form sent strange shiver through Bill.
He was riveted by what he was seeing.
"Sit down, Timmy, lets watch this together."
Gabriella patted the seat next to her, saying this
with a big smile. "Just us girls!" She resumed the
tape. "Oh, I don't really blame you for what you
did before, there's nothing like watching a slow
blow job!"
Timmy sat down where he was told. His eyes settled
on the screen, getting into the scene before him.
"Look at the size of that dick, TIMMY? Can't you
just taste that BIG THING? Go ahead, sweetie, rub
yourself if you want, it's ok!"
Timmy needed no encouragement. He slid the bottom
of his dress under him, exposing his silk panties.
He leaned back into the couch and exposed himself,
pulling his stiff little member free.
"Take a good close look, TIMMY. Look at the way
her lips are all stretched out, like she can't
breathe!"
Timmy was rubbing himself slowly, his eyes lost in
the scene before him.
"Don't you just love the way his hands are GRABBING
HER HAIR while he pushes down her throat!"
"Ohh." A small sound escaped involuntarily from
the boy's mouth. He liked what he saw.
"Bet he reminds you of those big boys at school!
Oh, don't you just love TOUGH BOYS, boys with REAL
BIG BALLS"
Timmy was drawing breath through his teeth in quick
whistles, working himself, teasing his small little
body feverishly. His pigtails started to dance as
his movements accelerated.
"Aren't blow jobs great! Dosen't this just make
you feel all dizzy inside, you SISSY LITTLE
SHITBALL!"
Bill could see his son's excitement crest. The sight
of the action on the screen, the feel of his little
girl outfit, and the words cutting deep channels in
his feelings were sending the boy into orbit.
"Yeah, get ready, here comes the money shot. Go
faster, you SICK LITTLE TURD, or you'll miss it!
He's going to shoot his STUFF down her throat.
Look, I think she wants to pull away. She doesn't
want him to cum in her mouth. There, watch her
eyes, she's struggling to pull away, but he's
grabbing her hair. HE'S NOT LETTING HER OFF HIM!"
Timmy started to cum: "Ohhhhhhh, Fuck!" his
little boy said as he wanked himself to his
dry climax.
The silence hung for a moment.
"That was fucking AWESOME, wasn't it, TIMMY?"
She let out a long, deep sigh. She started to
grin, slyly. "Now watch, you CANDY ASSED LITTLE
FUCK BOY! Watch real closely." She pointed at the
tape. "See, that was a GUY!" Timmy's mouth dropped
open. "That was a guy GIVING HEAD, dressed in
woman's clothes."
Gabriella started laughing as she got up from the
couch. "Some pretty QUEER BOY just like you!"
Timmy just sat there on the couch, staring at the
blank screen, hearing Gabriella's laughter echo
through the house.
Bill took a tissue from the box and cleaned himself.
He felt dizzy, spent, as if his guts had been pulled
apart during a deep sleep, and rearranged into
someone else. That was the last tape, he knew.
There would be no more tapes.
========
When Gabriella arrived on Wednesday afternoon, Bill
was waiting for her; He had taken the afternoon off.
"Timmy won't be here today, Gabriella."
The sweet demon took it in stride, she walked in
and sat down at the kitchen table. She stretched
her arms back behind her neck, Bill could see her
shapely breasts through the thin white material of
her shirt.
"So I won't be babysitting, today?" Her dark eyes
looked right through Bill, like fiery needles. "You
guys are all the same, this is soooooo predictable."
Her voice took on an angry tone, Bill recognized
the sound of it from the tapes: it was the start
of a slow burn.
"This happens all the time, I watch the kids for
a few weeks while their daddy sneaks his little
peaks at me." Her hands clenched in a fist, Bills
could feel his blood surge within him. "Then one
day, what do you know, something comes UP..." and
she looked down at his crotch. She saw what she
needed to, she knew just what she was dealing
with. This would be easy.
"...The little BRAT isn't here. Just Daddy,
who thinks he's going to get his jollies off!"
Bill fought to get the words he rehearsed out:
"I-I-I kn-n-now what you and Timmy have been
doing." He couldn't look away from those eyes.
Gabriella got comfortable in the chair. She
leaned back and crossed her legs, holding her
top leg far out in front, the way he saw so many
times from the tapes. Bill's eyes accepted the
invitation, they drank in the sight of Gabriella's
foot. She was bare today, no stockings. She
was wearing heels, of course, open toed ones that
showed off today's color: neon pink.
"I think Daddykins is a little jealous," she
said, seductively.
Bill couldn't answer, he felt his breath caught
in his throat, he just continued to look at her
foot, so tempting, the way she held it there.
"What's the matter, little Billy can't talk?
Answer me, shithead! You like what I did with
that little FAGGOT of yours?"
Bill couldn't answer. He did what he had to do.
He knelt down and took her foot, held the sides
of her shoe gently between his hands, like it
was made of the thinnest, most fragile gold.
He brought it to his mouth, and planted a devoted
kiss on her big toe, inhaling the scent of her.
He looked up at her. He was hers now.
"Christ, what a SICK PEICE OF SHIT you are!"
Her words, the hiss of her cruel voice fell on
him like a shower from heaven, awakening rivers
of long held desire. His blood rushed to his
throbbing cock.
"How did you ever get a son, why would any woman
let you fuck her? Who the FUCK would allow a DORK
like YOU to put your THING in her. I bet it's
tiny, like the STUPID LITTLE WILLY your son has!"
The last words carried him over the edge - he shot
his wad into his underpants. She noticed;
Gabriella saw everything.
She pulled her foot away, and stood up, turning
her back on him. She opened the waist button on
her jeans and wiggled her ass as she shook her
pants down her legs. Bill looked at her ass, the
lovely tanned crescents, the tuck of her soft lace
panties within the curvy cheeks. Gabriella backed
into him. "Hop to it, SHITBOY, you know what to do."
And he did know. Bill leaned closer, and with
shaking hands he slowly lifted her lace panties
out from the crack, and pulled them gently down
her thighs, leaving all of her ass exposed,
awaiting him. He looked closely at her down there,
choosing his spot carefully. He took his time,
Gabriella waited patiently; This was a profane
dance, not to be rushed.
Bill knew where he should go, he brought his mouth
to the place where her cheeks seemed the deepest.
He stuck his tongue out, and started drawing the
tip of it upward along her crack, pulling it
within her like a plow into damp earth. Bill
looked up across the valley of her back and
searched for her eyes within the black thicket of
her hair. There, he found her, she was peering
down at him.
He took a deep breath; Starting at the bottom
again he gave an extra deep lick, and watched
her eyes flare brightly amid the darkness of
her hair.
Mommy was very pleased.
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I'm wondering if there should be a part 2?
I'd love to here from you, no matter what
you thought of my story. Comments and story
ideas are welcome at: Pervitron@Hotmail.com
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Kristen's collection - Directory 7 - text 8310