Baby Sitter 2

I pull up to the house I was hired for. It's in a bit of a rich suburban neighborhood, so I know this family has a bit of money, which means a possible tip at the end of the weekend.

The job explained to me over the phone was a bit "strange" to say the least as far as babysitting jobs go.

I've babysat kids of all ages, but one this old is far and few in between. It wouldn't even be considered babysitting, more like college kid sitting.

"It's more of a house-sitting gig, really," the parents explained over the phone. I didn't care too much. As long as they paid my rates for the whole weekend and gave a decent tip, I'd guard the sidewalk for them.

They said they would explain more when I arrived about the situation with their kid, and if I wanted to drop them afterwards, it would be understandable. It seems they have a hard time keeping the same sitter around, or at least one that can meet their demands.

As far as my bills are behind right now, it would have to be something nightmarish for me to drop a job.

I walk up to the door and gift it 3 swift knocks to announce my arrival. The husband opens the door and greets me with a warm smile.

"Ah, you must be Jennifer! Come in, have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Oh, no thank you. I appreciate it though."

He guides me into the living room and points to the loveseat for me to sit as he takes his own seat next to his wife on the couch. I greet her as well and shake both of their hands before sitting down.

"So, the job. Like I said on the phone, it's more of a housesitting gig than anything. But our son will be here as well since it's our anniversary vacation."

I nod my head understandingly. Can't be trusted to his own devices? "Okay, that sounds easy enough. You mentioned some "special conditions" on the phone though. Would you mind elaborating?"

The couple lock eyes for a second, before the mother sighs and begins her explanation.

"Well, our son isn't exactly...the best kid. Whole reason we are hiring someone to watch over him is because last time he threw a party that resulted in half the house getting destroyed, the pantry and fridge completely emptied, and god knows how much stuff stolen."

The dad cuts in, "and that's only a single instance. He has a habit of just generally destroying the house in some way or another every time we leave. We'd like that to be prevented this time if we can."

I repeat back the job description in a blunt format to see if I got this right.

"So basically, you just want me to watch over the house and make sure your son doesn't do anything stupid, is that right?'

"Pretty much. He can order food, play his games, but no friends over. He's technically grounded right now for something else, so that means he shouldn't be going anywhere either. He can stay in his room all weekend long as far as we care, just do not let him leave the house or bring anyone in."

So, I'm playing gate guard. Easy enough.

"How exactly do I stop him if he does?"

"Any means necessary."

I raise an eyebrow. "ANY means?"

They both nod, "As long as you don't physically harm him, we could care less. If our house is still in one piece when we get back and he's in his room, we're not going to ask any questions as long as there isn't any marks on the kid."

Interesting. I want a nice, quiet weekend but I'm curious to see what kind of fight the kid will put up. And even more curious of the things I could do to him if he does...

I'd like to think they're overexaggerating about the kid, but that worried look in the mother's eyes tells me everything I need to know.

"Okay. I'll with it. I'll bring my bags inside and get setup."

Their eye gleam with relief and excitement. "Thank you so much! We've been dreading this vacation so much. We were scared we would have to cancel it. You're a lifesaver."

They both hug me and run off to grab their bags and finish packing as I go to bring my own in. I drop them in the guest bedroom and start to arrange my stuff.

After about an hour, I'm waving the parents out the door.

"Be careful! Let me know when you guys are headed back, and I'll be sure to spruce up the place."

As the dad walks by, he stops and lowers his voice, "I know we're already paying you a decent amount, but if you can manage to keep this place in one piece and not let that terror run you over, I have a pretty decent sized tip that should get you a good weekend away after this as well."

My eyes light up at the introduction of even more money. This is a dream job!

"You can count on me sir, no worries."

They finally pull out of the driveway, leaving me in charge of this house. Nothing stands in between me and a paycheck, especially some bratty kid.

I wonder...how bad he could really be?

I decided to make my way to his room to check out the competition and maybe introduce myself, let him know who's he's dealing with.

I walk down the hallway until I hear the muffled sound of gunshots and other videogame noises coming from behind a door. This must be the one.

I rap my knuckles on the door.

"What?! I'm busy, fuck off!"

Wow, does he talk to his parents that way? No wonder they need this vacation.

I don't bother knocking again, I turn the doorknob and open the door to his room.

As expected, the room is a mess. Laundry thrown all over the floor, holes in various places in the wall from thrown objects, mountain dew bottles and trash strewn across his desk while a scrawny kid with a gaming headset and a rgb keyboard clicks away at his game, ignoring the fact that I'm standing in his doorway.

I watch as he dies one more time, ending the game as he tosses his headset at the floor.

"Fucking dammit! Trash ass teammates. Why can no one just..." he finally notices me standing in the doorway.

"Who the fuck are... Oh. You must be the "babysitter" they hired." He puts air quotes around the word babysitter as he practically spits it out. The kid's attitude already disgusts me and it hasn't even been thirty seconds.

"That would be right. My name's Jennifer, what's yours?"

"None of your business, that's what."

As I look around the room, I notice the word Dakota etched into his headboard from what I assume was a pocketknife.

"Okay, Dakota, let's lay down some ground rules."

My voice drops, resembling something a little more sinister than your average babysitter. I'm no pushover, and I'm certainly not inexperienced when it comes to disgruntled, bratty, disrespectful kids.

While I'm used to younger ones I can usually intimidate into submission, I'm sure I can handle this one.

"One, you will call me ma'am when speaking to me and show some respect, got it?"

Dakota rolls his eyes but doesn't respond.

"Two, you're grounded, so you will not go anywhere. No friends over either."

He scoffs and challenges me, "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do? Stop me?"

I cross my arms and smirk, more than happy to accept his challenge if it was to arise, "I guess you'll find out, won't you?"

Before he can speak up again, I continue.

"And 3, we eat dinner at 7. If you don't come out to eat, you don't get anything. I will be watching you every single moment you leave this room, no matter what."

He mocks me a little, "Oh? You gonna follow little ol' me into the bathroom too? Make sure I don't sneak out the shower window?"

"Only if you make me."

He swivels his chair back towards his desk and picks his headset off the floor. He queues up for another game and goes back to ignoring my existence.

"Do we understand each other?" I call out, looking for confirmation of my rules.

He side-eyes me but doesn't respond.

Oh no. I want full disclosure that he knows what's going to happen this weekend. I storm all the way into his room and grab his shoulder, turning his chair back towards me.

"Hey! What are you-"

I grab his cheeks, squishing his face in my hand. My nails slightly dig into his skin as I force his face upwards, making him look me in the eyes. I see a slight tangent of fear, almost like no one has ever physically grabbed him like this before or held him accountable.

And I admit, I'm quite intimidating. I'm not small and fragile like some weak little teenage girl. I'm in my mid 30s, I'm around 6'0, and I'm not the smallest woman either.

Now I'm not obese, as I don't have a belly that hangs over or anything. But my hips are a considerable size, holding most of my weight right alongside a massive set of thighs.

And I'm certainly tough. Growing up with 4 brothers who were all in some kind of sport, I was the punching bag for a hot minute until I began to match their size and strength. Even years later, I can certainly hold my own against a man who thinks they're the shit.

I'm not a pushover either, I'm confident in my skills and what I can do.

I can only imagine as he looks into my eyes, he senses an uneasy aura that radiates from me while I have his face in my hands, and he knows I mean business.

I repeat myself, "I said, do we understand each other?"

"Y-Yes. I understand."

"Yes what?"

He stumbles over his words to correct himself. "Y-Y-Yes ma'am."

"Good."

My demeanor relaxes once I got the response I was looking for and I let go of his face. I turn toward the door and head out of his room.

"I'll be in the living room. I'll let you know when I'm ordering food so you can pick out what you want. Feel free to come watch tv with me or something."

I feel his eyes beaming into my back as I walk away, but I don't care. I'm sure I got my point across and that's all that matters.

I hear a low mumble as he cusses under his breath, "Stupid fat old bitch..." before he picks his headset up and turns back towards his game. I choose to let that little comment slide, for now.

I head to my room and change into something more relaxing. A pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweater should do the trick.

I finally head down to the living room and take my spot on the couch. It's one of those thick plush couches that you practically sink into, absorbing your body and trapping you in comfort.

Oh, this is nice. I could stand not to move from this spot all weekend. And hopefully that brat doesn't make me. But then again, I want him to push a button or two. I want him to test me.

What will I do if he does try to make a break for the door? Tackle him? Tie him down? Punch him in the gut?

The parents did say I could do anything to stop him. I just can't hurt him or leave a mark. Hmm....

We'll play it through in the moment.

Maybe an hour passes before I hear some shuffling coming from his room. His door creaks open, and I hear small, quiet footsteps work their way down the hall. I didn't call him for dinner, and he was being a little too subtle with his movements. Was he trying to sneak out?

I roll my eyes at his attempt as his steps make their way behind me. "Where are you going, Dakota?"

Surprised that I heard him, because he was oh so sneaky, he stammers and stumbles over his words as he looks for a valid excuse. "O-Oh, uh. The kitchen for a drink?"

I look back and see he's dressed in full clothes with his shoes on, definitely preparing to go out the door.

I play along, pretending to be oblivious in hopes our fun gets to start, "Oh, okay. Sure thing, just checking."

He dips into the kitchen and searches the fridge, just absent-mindedly standing as he pretends to look for a couple moments. I, on the other hand, start to head towards the front door, just to prepare myself. I tuck myself into the corner behind the coats and watch as he comes back out of the kitchen, notices I'm gone, and grins ear to ear.

He really thinks it's this easy?

He bolts for the door, reaching out for the door handle but I come out from around the corner, slamming a hand on the door and holding it shut.

"I don't think there's any drinks out there, Dakota."

"Look, I'm just going to a friend's house. It is literally none of your fucking business."

"It is when I'm getting paid a lot of money to keep you here. Turn around and go back to your room. Now."

He thinks about it for a brief second, before choosing his fate. He pushes both hands into my chest and tries to shove me away from the door. Unfortunately for him, I practically tower over him and outweigh him by at least 50 pounds, so I barely moved an inch from his weak little shove.

But it's the fact that he even dared lay his hands on me that lit that spark inside me.

"Oh? You really want to play that fucking game? Turn around now, or I will make you regret it."

Does he realize he's outmatched? Does he listen to my threat?

Of course not.

He sports a scowl and shoves me one more time, a bit harder, managing to push me back a little more. But that too far. The switch had officially been flipped.

I've never had to use physical force on one of my client's kids, but they said anything for this special little case.

I show him what real power is and shove him back, a little too hard I might admit. He falls backwards, stumbling over his feet and falling flat on his back. I immediately follow and pounce on him, grabbing his arms and pinning them to the floor above his head as I mount his stomach.

"GET YOUR FAT FUCKING ASS OFF ME! I'M TELLING MY PARENTS! I'LL HAVE YOU ARRESTED!"

He continues to squirm and struggle underneath me, kicking his legs and thrashing around. I ride him like a bull with ease as I settle my weight on top of him, continuing to hold him down.

He continues spitting at me and hurling insults as he tries to get free. "YOU FAT FUCKING COW. YOU'RE JUST AN OVERWEIGHT USELESS SACK OF SHIT THAT CAN'T DO ANYTHING BETTER THAN BABYSIT IN HER LIFE. FUCK YOU!"

I'll admit, his insults start to stab a little deeper, as I am extremely sensitive about my weight, as every woman is. I work hard to keep my belly down, but I can't help everything that goes towards my voluptuous hips and ass. It gets harder and harder to find jeans every year.

But this little shit keeps throwing insult after insult about my weight at me, I can't stand to listen to it anymore.

Suddenly, an idea pops into my head.

Without a second thought, I scoot forward on his chest, and watch his eyes widen in horror as his face is slowly enveloped by my thighs.

"Wait, what the fuck are you doing to-"

And suddenly, his cries and pleas are muffled as I close my thighs shut around his face. I take his arms and tuck them underneath my calves as well so I don't have to hold them down anymore.

I sit up and admire my handiwork. This disrespectful brat was finally quiet, his insults turning to nothing but muffled grunts and groans. I had his face buried deep between my thighs, his nose jammed into my crotch, his every sense completely blocked out from the world. His screams and threats were nothing more than muffled vibrations beneath me.

This is certainly a new sensation. When we were kids, I used to get my brothers in schoolgirl pins and chokeholds and everything in between all the time, but to have his face shoved directly between my thighs like this... I know he can't breathe down there either. I've probably been on his face for about 30 seconds now, and his struggles are becoming more and more frantic as his oxygen begins to burn out.

I'm not terribly cruel, so I lift my weight up juuust a little bit and open my thighs to see his bloodshot eyes staring up at me. They're filled to the brim with pure malice and hatred as he takes a deep breath, then begins to hurl his next barrage of threats.

"GET YOUR FAT FUCKING ASS OFF-"

Oh, looks like he didn't learn his lesson yet. I plop my ass back down on his face, letting him simmer just a little longer.

His kicks and screams begin to pick back up again, but he barely got any air in that last time, so they die off just as quick. Now, he can do nothing more than tap at my thighs.

I give him one more chance and lift off his face to allow him a breath of air, anxiously waiting to see what he says next to give me an excuse to shut him up.

He gasps desperately, unable to even bother forming another sentence because he's too busy filling his lungs with the air I deprived him of. I scoot back a bit and take a seat on his chest, still holding his arms down beneath my thighs. He can breathe now, but not as easy as he would like as I bounce a couple times on his chest, his ribs creaking beneath me.

"So here's the deal. I get up, and you go back to your room. You only come out when I say so, and you only speak to me when spoken to. Or you disobey and I show you what real babysitting is. What's it gonna be?"

Surely, I had to have stricken fear into this kid's heart by now by smothering him like I just did. He would realize he's outclassed, outmatched, and out of his league. He's just some rich folk's kid who always got what he wanted and was never told no, and now he's learning his place, right?

Wrong.

"Fuck you," and he spits directly in my face. I sit there, jaw dropped in pure shock, at the pure audacity of this brat. That's it. That's the last straw.

I start to stand up, and he smirks as he believes he finally broke me, thinking I'm about to run out the door and go cry in my car from being unable to tolerate his attitude.

But unfortunate for him, I don't break so easily. If he wants to play this game, I'll show him the next level and make him regret ever being born.

I turn around, showing my massive ass to him, letting it loom directly over his face.

It casts a massive shadow over him, like a cloud blocking out the sun. Each cheek looks like an overinflated beach ball, and my yoga pants are wedged so deep between my crack that it's nothing more than a dark, treacherous cavern. He would need a flashlight and a map just to find his way back out of it.

And on top of all that, his face is directly in the line of fire as it rapidly hurtles towards him.

There was no sound, no scream, and no hesitation from me as I dropped my full weight back onto his face. Just a solid smack as my cheeks clapped his own.

Like a puzzle piece, his face slid directly into that cavern and slotted in place like a puzzle piece. As I settle back onto his head, my asscheeks splay over the sides of it and touch the floor.

The only way you would even know someone is underneath me from behind is from the few tufts of hair visibly poking out from beneath me, but as I rest my weight further back I'm sure even those would disappear.

I sigh as I get comfortable on his face. It seems to have taken him by such surprise that he hasn't even processed his situation and started struggling yet. He's just lying there, face deep in his babysitter's fat ass wondering where the light went.

This is surprisingly comfortable. His face fits so perfectly into my ass it's like a little extra cushion. I could only imagine the pain he's feeling with all 200+ pounds of my weight bearing down on his face on the hardwood floor. I look over at the couch in the living room. I bet sitting on his face on there would be even more comfortable, but I'd have to get him over there...

I look around me and see a couple dog leashes hanging on the wall just within my reach. I bet I could tie his hands and slip one of the leashes around his throat with a collar too.

A wide, wicked grin works its way across my face.

His parents did say anything. I can't believe I'm about to get paid to shove some poor kid's face in my ass for the entire weekend.

I grab one leash and grab his hands, tying them together. I feel his inhales against my ass as I lean forward just a bit to tie them. As he sniffs, he starts to gag and cough like he smelt something wretched.

I blush a little bit as I remember that I wore these yoga pants to my workout this morning, and yesterday, and the day before...

I completely forgot to do the sniff test before I packed these in my bag, so I'm guessing he's doing it for me and does not approve. Oh well, that only makes this more fun.