Babysitter's Weed

It was careless of me, I'll admit, but I'd managed to get myself double booked, neither appointment being one I could extract myself from easily. I decided that I'd see if there was some way I could combine the two things.

First and foremost, I had a babysitting gig with Peter and Michelle Bunjer. I couldn't miss that because it paid. The other appointment was with a couple of the girls from my class to finish up a group project. It would only take about an hour or so.

The obvious answer from my point of view was to have the girls meet me at the Bunjer's place and we could finish the assignment while I did my babysitting. Two birds with the one stone sort of thing.

Carol and Marie were quite happy to meet at the Bunjer's place so that was fine. All I had to do was to get Michelle Bunjer to agree. She could be a little sticky, not liking me having guests over while sitting.

I fronted up to Michelle a day early to explain the situation. It would just be the two girls from my class and they'd only be there for about an hour, I pointed out. We'd nearly finished the assignment and just needed the three of us to sit down together for a short time to pull it all together.

Michelle um'ed and ah'ed a bit, but finally conceded that yes, it would be OK. After all, we were all adults and there would only be the three girls so we probably wouldn't get up to much mischief, but Michelle was going to hold me personally responsible for everything that went on. Big deal. What mischief could three women doing an assignment get up to?

(Michelle's husband, Peter, had agreed as soon as asked, but that was to be expected and not taken as definitive. He'd agree to anything that involved nubile young women around the place. A born lecher, that man.)

The next evening I rolled up to start the babysitting. A dead easy job as the kids were in bed by the time I got there and probably wouldn't awaken until the next morning. I was only there as insurance. As per normal, as soon as I arrived Peter started to flirt outrageously.

I don't know what it is about that man but, even though I was wearing a jumper and a skirt that nearly reached my knees, he had this ability to make me feel as though I was walking around starkers. I'll swear his eyes looked right through my clothes and enjoyed what he could see. Once again I made a little mental note not to let him catch me alone.

Michelle and Peter hit the road and half an hour later Carol and Marie turned up. We settled down in the kitchen and started work. I hate doing projects and I was happy that this one was winding up successfully. It was the last major assignment of the semester and after this the rest of the year would be a doddle.

There was a bit more work involved in pulling it all together than we had expected, but we got it all done eventually. We saved it all (and backed it up) and breathed a sigh of relief to know it was complete.

Then Marie said she was going to have a smoke and whipped out this odd looking packet of cigarettes. Carol and I declined, but Marie went and lit up anyway, even though I suggested that she take it outside. Marie was sitting back, puffing away and blowing smoke rings, and it suddenly occurred to me that the tobacco had a very odd scent to it.

"What the hell brand is that you're smoking," I demanded. "It smells weird."

Marie giggled and showed me the pack. Would you believe that she had acquired a pack of marijuana cigarettes? I didn't even know you could get the stuff ready rolled. I hit the roof.

"Are you insane?" I shrieked. "You can't smoke that stuff here. Michelle would hit the roof if she knew. Put it out. Now."

"Oh, don't get you panties in a knot," Marie drawled. "Just air the kitchen out after we've gone. Michelle won't even notice."

The hell, she wouldn't. I'd be prepared that Michelle would notice if I even dared to fart somewhere around the place. No way was Marie smoking that shit here. If she wanted to smoke it she could do so on the way home.

Marie just laughed at me, but did condescend to take herself and her 'cigarette' elsewhere. Carol went with her, leaving me to try to air out the kitchen. I opened the windows and sprayed some air-conditioner around and hoped for the best. Sniffing, I couldn't really detect anything, so I figured I was clear.

I settled down and watched TV.

I was half dozing when Michelle and Peter returned. Peter stirred me fully awake while Michelle went off to the kitchen to make some coffee. I'd completely forgotten about Marie and her 'cigarette' until Michelle came storming back into the front room in high dudgeon.

It seems that my efforts to clear away the sweet smell of marijuana had failed dismally. Michelle had taken one whiff and known immediately. As far as I was concerned it hinted at a misspent youth, but I wasn't game enough to say so, not that Michelle gave me much of a chance to say anything. She was ropable.

I tried to explain that it wasn't me, but Marie. I said I'd chased Marie away as soon as she'd lit up. I explained I'd tried to clear the scent away. Michelle wasn't having a bar of it. I was in charge so it was my fault. She'd trusted me and I'd let her down. Yada, yada, yada. All I could do was hang my head, try to look repentant and make silent vows about what I was going to do to Marie.

Things took a turn for the worse when Michelle said she was ringing my parents to report my drug taking. Hell's bells. My mother would be even wilder than Michelle. She'd nag me for weeks about it and forbid me to ever speak to Marie again. Telling the parents was just not on.

"You can't tell my mother," I protested. "She'd go spare and I'd never hear the end of it. I told you it wasn't my fault."

Michelle didn't give a damn and was going to call my folks anyway, but Peter stepped in.

"Calm down a little, Michelle," he said quietly. "I'm sure we can work this out amongst ourselves."

I gave him a grateful look, and then tried to withdraw it when he went on.

"Now, you were in charge, Simone," he said, "so the responsibility does lie with you. How about we just hand out our own punishment and then let the whole thing drop?"

"What sort of punishment," demanded Michelle, and I'll admit that I was rather interested in that point, too.

"What sort of punishment would you expect to hand out to a naughty girl," said Peter with a smirk. "We'll spank her. Rather, my love, you will spank her. It wouldn't be proper for me to do so."

A spanking? He had to be frigging kidding me. Unfortunately, he wasn't. Even worse, Michelle was quite keen to go along with it. What the hell was I supposed to do? With a choice of having Michelle spank me or having Michelle carrying tales to my mother, spanking won quite easily. It wouldn't have if Peter had been the one doing the spanking, I can assure you.

I consented - with rather bad grace, but consented. Michelle sat down triumphantly on the couch and indicated that I should bend over her knee. Fortunately she was only going to use her hand. If she'd produced a paddle it would have been a stopper as far as I was concerned.

Michelle flicked my skirt up off my bottom and started in with the spanking. It smarted, but she was really not all that strong and I thought I could handle it. Then after half a dozen of what Michelle considered hard spanks things went a little skew whiff.

"Hold it a moment, Michelle," said Peter, and she stopped spanking me and asked him why.

"You'll find you can do a better job like this," Peter said, and the next thing I knew he'd taken hold of my panties and pulled them down.

I squealed in protest and Michelle laughed and resumed spanking. For some reason, it felt as though she was spanking a lot harder now, and those spanks were smarting. And on top of that was the embarrassment factor, knowing Peter was standing behind me, looking right up my Khyber Pass, the pervert.

Actually, it was somewhat erotic, knowing that my bottom and pussy were on display to a man, and I was getting quite hot and wet as well as smarting from the spanking. It felt like Michelle had settled in for a night's entertainment, spanking me, and my bottom was starting to really sting. I was wailing somewhat, trying to garner some sympathy, hoping Peter would bring the whole thing to an end.

Eventually, he did, but not in the way I expected. I think he even took Michelle by surprise with his next stunt. Michelle was busy spanking and I was squealing and wailing and Peter suddenly piped up.

"I think it might be a good idea if I finished this little incident off for you, my pet," he said.

Michelle finally, thank god, stopped smacking my poor bottom and replied.

"Well, normally I'd say no way," she said with a giggle, "but this time I'll let you go ahead."

The next thing I know Peter had pulled my legs wider apart and this whacking great cock was sliding up and into me. Like I said, I was hot and wet from the spanking and it was a good thing for me I was, as Peter just drove in hard and fast, slamming his cock all the way into me with a single thrust.

It was an odd situation. I was ecstatic, pushing back to meet Peter, and shouting, silently and to myself, "YES". At the same time I had to squeal with fright and protest this sudden violation of my body. Technically it was rape and I had every right to protest. I mean, it was expected of me.

I was squealing "No, no, no. You can't do this to me," while my bum was bouncing up and pushing hard against Peter. Then Peter's hands clamped over my hips and he started fucking me in earnest.

Forget the protests and complaints I was making. It was wonderful. I always knew he'd find a way to jump me someday - I'd just never expected it to be in front of Michelle and with her endorsement. Peter pumped into me and my bottom bounced up and down eagerly, relishing the contact and making sure he went as deep as possible.

After a while I let my protests drop off, just making do with moans and groans and a lot of heavy panting. Peter kept on and on, obviously having the time of his life as he violated my tender young body. I only wish he'd been able to figure out an excuse to get my top off so that he could play with my breasts at the same time. Can't have everything I suppose.

I was fully aroused even before Peter started his criminal violation, and every stroke he made just seemed to lift me higher, and he was making an awful lot of strokes. I was starting to squeal again, but I was now in a position where I could let my enthusiasm show. Peter and Michelle would just put it down to Peter's expertise with his cock overcoming my reluctance.

Peter fucked me and I bounced happily along beneath his thrusting cock. I was just the victim, albeit a willing one, so no-one could blame me for taking what enjoyment I could get from the ordeal.

I'll give Peter full marks for stamina. He just kept on and on, reducing me to a blubbering wreck, wailing for him to hurry up and finish as I couldn't stand it. He just kept me balanced on a knife edge, about to climax but not quite making it while he repeatedly drilled me. I think it had something to do with the rhythm he set up but, just when I thought it was over and paradise beckoned, there'd be a subtle change and I'd seem to go off the boil ever so slightly.

It was frustrating and exciting. Michelle seemed to know what he was doing, but she would, and she was laughing at me, damn her. This sort of thing was new to me and I couldn't stand it. I was literally pleading with him at the end, begging him to fuck me properly, which is not really the sort of attitude a girl should have while being ravished. I didn't give a damn.

When he suddenly changed his rhythm and came slamming into me extra hard I literally screamed with relief. And then screamed again as an orgasm just swept away every semblance of thought, leaving just these wonderful feelings surging through me.

I think I actually passed out at one point, and when I came to I was sitting on the couch, panties back in place. Sticky, but in place. I was going to be somewhat uncomfortable until I got home and had a shower.

Michelle calmly informed me that as far as she was concerned the matter of the marijuana was over and she wouldn't mention it again. I could go home now. My babysitting money was in the envelope.

I felt like asking if the matter of Peter raping me was over, but thought I'd better not. They might decide to have him do it again and I needed a rest before that happened. Still, one never knew what might happen on subsequent sitting days.