!ADULTS ONLY! Tag Bonewell: House Dick!

Tracy read the last two paragraphs of the book cradled in her lap.

"All this," the young prince said, waving his right hand in a wide, sweeping arc, "will be yours my darling, after we marry." Alicia's eyes took in the panoramic scenery, the magnificent castle, the many stables, and the many fine houses beyond, strung out as far as she could see. "All you have to do, my precious Alicia, is take my hand, cross the Meadow of Menace with me, and stand beside me in front of the vicar to take our wedding vows." The prince held out his hand. And waited, his heart refusing to beat.

At last, the lovely Alicia spoke, her sky blue eyes looking deeply into his,
"I love you strongly and purely, my darling, and if the Hag Crone of Hesperus is correct, and your love for me is just as strong and pure, the Meadow of Menace should visit us no harm." She took his hand, and they started walking together toward the Meadow of Menace. And, for the first time in five thousand years, birds were heard singing in the lea.

The End?

Tracy reread the last paragraph, and then gently closed the book. Why, she wondered, looking up at the ceiling, picturing a blue sky, can't real life be as lovely as a book? With a happy ending for everyone involved? Why were there rotten bastards in the world? Rotten scoundrels, who force young girls into doing awful, depraved and unspeakable things?

She glanced at her watch. In less than an hour, she would be in the hands of one of the world's rottenest bastards. And she had no one to blame but herself. She listened. There were no birds singing in her lea. And no love strong and pure to rescue her from her own Meadow of Menace. In her world, the Hag Crone of Hesperus didn't exist.

She thought back to how this whole horrible affair had come about. Just a little over a year now, though it seemed five thousand years ago.

And to think it had all begun with a simple, everyday babysitting job . . .

* * * * * *

"COME IN, Ms. Winsome," Mr. Burns said, opening the door wider. "Rugby's already in his pajamas. His bedtime is ten o'clock, so it's all right if he watches TV until then. I should be back by midnight, and my pager number is on the fridge, if you need to get hold of me. Any questions?"

"No, Mr. Burns," Tracy said. "You've answered all the one's I usually ask. You just go and relax, and have a good time. I don't foresee any problems with the little tyke."

"Good. But your use of the term little tyke, means there's one thing you're not aware of. Rugby is not the kind of boy you probably usually sit for. You see, he's seventeen. But, unfortunately, he was born with a brain defect, and has the mentality of a four-year old. His mother died in childbirth, so please try not to mention her to him, as he carries on something fierce. I should have mentioned all this to you on the phone, but I assumed you knew because I believe you know my last sitter, Jacqueline Fine?"

Tracy nodded. "Yes, I know her, Mr. Burns, but Jackie and I run with a different crowd, so we don't really talk that much."

"Oh, well okay, it doesn't matter. You'll find Rugby to be easy to get along with, quite polite in fact, and he shouldn't give you any problems. Well, if there's nothing else, I'll be off." He then turned his head and hollered, "Rugby! Your sitter is here!" Tracy heard from the living room, "Goody, daddy, is she nice?"

Burns looked Tracy up and down, and then yelled, "Oh, yeah, Rug, she's real nice!" He chuckled, and then said, in a more normal voice, "Makes me wish I needed a sitter of my own." He winked at her, and she felt her face flush.

"Well, Tracy, the place is all yours. Don't let the burglars in. Ha ha!" He left the house, leaving Tracy standing in the foyer. She took off her coat, laid it neatly on a hall chair, and walked over to the living room archway.

She popped her head around the corner, and there he was, her ward for the evening, sitting on the sofa in his pajamas, watching TV, his eyes glued to the screen. He was the biggest four-year old Tracy had ever laid her eyes on . . .

* * * * * *

TRACY entered the living room. Sensing her entrance, Rugby "Rug" Burns looked at her. All he saw was his sitter. If his mind had been able to catch up with his years, he would have seen a luscious young woman, with long, shapely legs, beautiful breasts, and a body to die for. All packaged in a 5' 6" tall, 125 lb. frame. With shoulder length blond hair, and eyes as blue as the sky. And he would have felt the same stirrings in his crotch area that his father had felt just a short time ago. "Are you my sitter?"

Tracy nodded and introduced herself to him. They conversed for a time with idle chitchat, in a woman to child way. Tracy was impressed by the size of the boy. He had to be nearly six-feet tall. She guessed him to weigh between 170 and 180. And like her, he had blond hair, but in a crew cut. And, also like her, he had sky blue eyes. They could have easily passed as brother and sister to anyone on the street.

Rugby, bored with his attempt at adult chitchat, put his eyes back on the TV screen. Tracy took a seat on the sofa, a few feet from him. She looked over at him and studied his pajamas. They were pale blue, and covered in colorful, cartoon-like choo-choo trains. "You like trains, Rugby?"

"Uh huh." He said without looking at her. He was transfixed by a show about kangaroos. "Oooh, can they jump!" he squealed with delight, wriggling in place, his long legs stomping up and down on the carpet.

Tracy looked down at the pistoning, churning legs. There was something strange about his left leg. The choo-choo trains on the upper thigh of that leg seemed twisted, as if they had been in a big train wreck. When the leg finally came to a halt, Tracy saw the reason for the distortion. There was a large lump running down the leg, almost to his knee, having, as its origin, Rugby's crotch!

My God, Tracy thought, he's hung like the proverbial fucking horse! She couldn't take her eyes from the bulge. Not only did it seem long, it seemed unbelievably thick. She wanted to look away, but it was mesmerizing her, and forcing her eyes to stay on it.

She had read, and heard, of cocks such as this, but here it was, in the flesh, and less than four feet from her. In spite of herself, and knowing better, she felt her pussy twitch and dampen up. She couldn't help wondering what such a cock would feel like, buried deep inside her vagina. She shuddered at the thought, her pussy getting even wetter.

Then, as if her horny evil twin had taken control of her, she said, "What's that, Rugby?" She waited for him to look at her.

"What's what?" His eyes danced back and forth, between her and the TV.

"That lump there, this one." She reached over and put her hand on it, squeezing it slightly, an excitement coming over her, and messing up her mind.

"Oh, that's my wee-wee." He said innocently. He hadn't even flinched.

The horny evil twin said, "Oh, I've never seen as big a wee-wee as that one." She ran her hand gently up and down the length of the bulge. "I'd like to see it up close. OK?" She waited, her heart refusing to beat, just like the prince's heart had done.

"OK." was all he said. It was game time for the horny evil twin, who now took full and total charge of the loaded situation.

"Stand up, Rugby!" He stood, his eyes not leaving the TV. Tracy got up and knelt before the willing, pliable man-boy. She noticed he didn't even look down at her.

Her pussy was on fire as she reached up under his pajama top, found the elastic waistbands of the PJs and his briefs, and pulled them both down to the floor. She shot a glance up at him.
He was still watching kangaroos hop around, and paying her no mind whatsoever. She rolled up the bottom few inches of his pajama top, no longer worrying about Rugby's reactions to her machinations. He was now naked from his waist down, with choo-choo trains crashing together at his feet. She lifted his left leg, freeing it from the choo-choo train wreckage. His right leg, as far as she was concerned, could stay as it was.

She looked at his cock, her eyes burning in her head. It hung down, and though flaccid, had to be 9" long. His balls, together as big as an orange, were covered in downy blond pubic hairs. As she studied them, she knew she was at the point of no return. Stop now, at a time when he would quickly forget it. Or go farther and risk unforeseeable future problems--and complications. What to do?

She looked up at him. One quick look at the mindless man-child, and the horny evil twin in her made the decision by reaching out, grabbing the large cock's hairy base and, lifting the cock up, guided it to her mouth, her hot hungry mouth, which quickly engulfed the large plum-like head. Then she held still, the cock's head fully in her mouth, and waited, her heart again refusing to beat.

If Rugby had said something in protest, even anything slightly negative, or bafflement even, she would have stopped and engineered his mind off of the subject and back to kangaroos. But all he said, from way up above her head, was, "That feels nice, Tracy. I like that."

That feels nice, Tracy. I like that. A license to cocksuck him, if ever there was one. But she had to cover another troublesome base. She took her mouth off the penis, and said, "Rugby, if you want me to keep doing this, you have to swear to keep it a secret. You can't tell your daddy. OK?" She waited, her heart once more refusing to beat. The horny heat she felt all over her body, and in her mind, was awesome. Overpowering.

"Sure. I can keep a secret. I like secrets, Tracy. I have lots of secrets that daddy don't know about. Like the skate key I have under my mattress. He said it was a dirty key and told me to get rid of it, but I fooled him." He laughed, and sounded very proud of himself. And sounded fine to Tracy, who now felt his prick start to harden up under her fingers, which had been gently stroking him as he spoke.

Somewhat assured as to her future safety, she put her mouth back on his penis, and started going up and down on it, feeling it lengthen and harden as she worked the head. She reached out with her free hand and began gently massaging and caressing his balls. She heard him moan softly. "Oooh, Tracy, that feels good, too." She had a feeling that his eyes were still on the jumping kangaroos.

A few more moments and the cock was fully erect, the strength of it felt by her tongue and lips. The entire cock, head and shaft, had very little give to it, and was as hard as a cock can get.

She removed her mouth from it, so she could see its total length. She guessed it to be over 12" and as thick around as her wrist. The pee hole was very pronounced, being deeply indented. The cock head stood out all around the shaft a good half-inch. It was the biggest prick she had ever seen, even in her wildest sexual fantasies.

She went back to blowing him. She had deep throated a guy named Dexter one time, but he was of a more normal size. The only other guy she had ever had sex with, Sam, also received deep throat from her, but he, although a bit thicker than Dexter, was no where near the size of the humongous thing in her mouth. But she just had to try. Her mouth demanded it of her.

She pushed her mouth down the shaft until the cock head touched her gag reflex. It was now or never. She pushed forward some more; a small bit at a time, and felt the large head go down without a problem. She was going to do it! And she did, all the way down to the large prick's pubic hairs. When her nose bumped his flat belly, Rugby moaned again, then he cooed, "I like that a lot, Tracy." His legs were beginning to tremble and shake.

She sucked him for a few more minutes and, when he hadn't cum, she decided to fuck him. Right then and there. On the living room floor. And damn the choo-choo trains, it was now full steam ahead.

She told him to lie down on his back on the carpet. She told him they were going to play a secret game. He obeyed, falling gleefully to his knees, then rolling over onto his back. His long, thick cock now ran up past his navel. His head was turned toward the TV. He didn't want to miss the hoppers.

Tracy wasted no time. She pulled her slacks and panties down to her ankles with one quick motion. She removed the garments from only her left leg, and straddled him, squatting above the large cock. She guided the still erect cock to her pussy, and lowered herself onto it. In no time, the cock was fully in her and had bottomed out.

She started to ride him, feeling the massive head work a delicious magic on her insides. "Does that feel good, Rugby?" she said, breathlessly.

"Oh, yes, I like it, Tracy. This is a fun game. You look like you're riding a horsey. My horsey! I've always wanted a horsey."

She felt like she was riding a horsey, too. "Giddyap!" she yelled, quickening the pace, feeling her insides being probed by the large horsey cock. She was close to cumming. A few more ups and downs on the pony would do it. And they did.

The orgasm swept over her in waves, making her legs twitch, and sweat break out on the back of her neck. Her eyes rolled in her head; her breathing increased, and then seemed to stop. She was fucking a mindless man-boy. and loving every second of it.

"Ooooh, Rugby, I'm cumming again!" She moaned, unable to comprehend how she could have two orgasms so close together, almost on top of each other. That had never happened before. But she was in for another first.

Rugby, as silent as a tomb, was starting to spurt. And spurt. And spurt. She felt the immense heat of his orgasm as he unloaded deep within her. Then came her other first--a third orgasm by her!

It hit her hard and fierce, making her shudder all over. She started moaning loudly, and speaking incoherently. "Ooooh, mmmm, olg riffa, cum limma, oh, oh, oh . . . OH GOD!" She was done in. Limp. Weak. Drained. She opened her eyes and found that the ceiling was where the wall should be. Then the ceiling spun around and morphed into Rugby's innocent face.

She let her weight sink down on him, having little choice about it, and took his cock fully into her. It's immense heat mingling with her own. From somewhere, far away, she heard birds singing, or were they birds? Or her yelling? Or Rugby humming? Or the TV? She didn't know. Nothing seemed real to her. Until reality spoke to her.

"I liked that, Tracy. Can we do it again? Again now, please?"

She composed herself, guilt entering fully into her mind. "No, Rugby, we," she cleared her throat, "can only do this now and then. And only if you promise to keep it a secret. Do you promise?"

"I promise, Tracy. A secret's a secret." He surprised her by winking at her.

"Good boy." She winked back at him. "Now, Rugby, what say we watch some more TV together?"

"OK" He stood up, unmindful of his nakedness. She told him not to move, to just stand as he was. He obeyed, the kangaroos occupying his mind.

She quickly dressed herself. Then she went and found a face cloth, wet it real well, and went and cleaned his horsey up. She put him back into his PJs.

As they sat, side-by-side on the sofa, watching a show about meerkats, Rugby said, "Oooh, looky, Tracy, lotsa pussy!" She laughed, adoring his innocence.

"Yeah, "Rugby, lotsa pussy. You like pussy?" She couldn't resist.

"Oh, yeah, they're my favorite aminals." Aminals. How cute. Especially so when uttered by a horse cocked man-child.

At some point, later in the evening, with Rugby safely tucked into his bed, Tracy looked at her watch. 11:45. Mr. Burns would be home soon. And he would pay her for babysitting Rugby. She felt as if she was the one who should be paying him.

And she looked forward to the next time . . .

* * * * * *

MR. BURNS was home a few minutes before midnight, as promised. He seemed, to Tracy, a tad tipsy. He told her to wait while he went and got his checkbook from the den. He went off in that direction, leaving her sitting on the sofa.

Tracy waited, unaware of the new event that was soon to take place on this first night of her babysitting the mindless Rugby. The minutes passed by. Five. Ten. Twenty.

What�s taking him so long? Tracy wondered. Then, as if in answer to her question, she heard Burns call, "Tracy, could you come here for a minute, please. I want to talk to you." She went toward the voice, glad of having some action to perform besides sitting.

She found the door to the den, went in, and panic and fear hit her immediately. There was Mr. Burns, watching television. But it was no ordinary show he had his eyes on. He was watching a blowjob performance being given by one Tracy Winsome, on his son Rugby. Tracy looked at the screen, horrified, mortified, and beyond embarrassment. She stood there, her mouth agape, and unable to breathe.

Burns hit Fast Forward and, a few seconds later, there she was again, only this time fucking the boy, riding him and his large horsey cock for all she was worth, her naked ass bobbing up and down on the kid's enormous prick.

"Sit there," was all Burns said, pointing to a chair in front of his desk. On legs that felt as if they wouldn't carry her, Tracy somehow made it to the chair, and fell into it.

"M-m-mr. Burns, I can expla . . . I don't . . . it . . . "

"Shut up!" She shut up. And waited for his next move, her heart refusing to beat. He studied her, making her feel cruddy all over. Her mind was racing. If her father ever saw this, he would die, right after he killed her. And her mother? Oh, God, it would just about kill her, too. The Meadow of Menace pushed its way into her mind, mingling with all the other thoughts she was having about death and gloom and peril.

Finally, he spoke to her, his eyes burning into hers. "Tracy, I put hidden cameras all over this house because the last sitter, your friend Jacqueline Fine, not only stole from me, she drank my best booze and had a boy in. But at least she had the decency to wait until Rugby was asleep before she fucked the guy. And, for sure as shit, she didn't lay a hand on my son!"

"Mr. Burns . . . " She had stopped stuttering, but he wouldn't let her talk.

"Tracy, what would your parents say if they saw what you were doing here tonight?" He looked at her, his eyes piercing into hers. "Don't answer, we both know what that would mean, don't we?" She nodded meekly. And felt she had to say something, anything. There had to be a way out of this. He didn't seem like such a bad sort of guy. In fact, the way he was leering at her now suggested a ray of hope. She played into it, hoping it would save her, him being a man and all . . .