Forced: Babysitter as Fucktoy

Chloe awoke in her own bed, her entire body sore in a way she didn't recognize. Her arms ached, her hamstrings were tight, and, most notably, her pussy was throbbing from the inside out. She blinked away the sleep and tentatively stretched, working her brain to remember what had caused these unfamiliar sensations. She froze as it all started coming back to her and immediately brought her knees to her chest in an attempt to protect herself from the onslaught of traumatic memories of the night before.

Simply put, her neighbor, boss, and somewhat of a father figure had raped, blackmailed, and broken her down. He had presented her with an impossible choice- comply as his own personal fucktoy or lose all of her babysitting jobs, which meant a complete loss of income, surrogate family members, community, and sense of security in her own home. She would be shunned by the parents she had come to think of as her own, and cut off from the children she had grown to love and rely on for connection and socialization. Without the families who lived on her block, she had no close friends, no family, no intimacy or camaraderie. If Oliver told anyone she had fucked him, no matter what context she tried to provide, she would lose everything good in her life. Someone less fragile than her might be able to face that reality for the sake of justice, but Chloe knew her limits. She wouldn't be able to handle that.

Unfurling her hurting body and rolling out of bed, Chloe caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her lips swollen from being bitten by her own teeth in the throes of anxiety, and her hips bruised with overlapping ovals she knew to be the imprints of Oliver's unforgiving fingers. Even her wrists and ankles were marked with the telltale signs of having been restrained throughout the initiation into her new life as an older man's fucktoy. She felt her eyes well up with even more tears at the uncertainty of how her life could change from here.

She didn't even know how she got home last night; the last thing she remembered was her body betraying her by cumming on her captor's cock before she fell asleep in his arms. So much for survival instincts! How could she have let herself fall asleep against the same man who had non-consensually fucked her awake just an hour or so before?!

This realization drowned Chloe in a brand-new wave of discomfort as she walked naked and barefoot into the kitchen to brew some coffee. If she had fallen asleep in her bosses' bed, how had Oliver gotten her back into her own? She hadn't brought her keys with her to babysit considering she hid one in a secret lockbox outside her door that could only be opened by someone who knew the 6-digit code. She'd always thought this was so clever, but it was more out of necessity after forgetting her keys at home more times than she'd like to admit.

Fresh, silent tears finally fell down her face as she remembered that Oliver and his wife were among the neighbors who helped her gain access to her apartment on more than several occasions, all of them chuckling together at how clumsy and scatterbrained she could be. Maybe she wasn't as clever as she thought; Oliver was the one who had suggested she leave a key hidden by her door. She just didn't know how he had learned the code it was locked behind. Her sense of security, both physical and emotional, had been eroded.

Not only did Chloe not know how he'd gotten into her apartment, but how had he managed to transport a leggy young girl down the street after he had quite literally cut up the bottoms she had worn to her babysitting job? She hadn't seen a robe or borrowed pants of any kind around her bed. In fact, she hadn't even seen the tank top she arrived in last night, meaning Oliver had likely taken it off of her in her sleep.

The thought of him repeatedly having access to her naked, sleeping body sent a shiver down her spine, emphasizing her feelings of fear but also... she couldn't ignore the wetness growing between her bare legs as she thought of how much unbridled power Oliver must have had over her with her sleeping, naked form at his mercy. Of course, this only deepened Chloe's shame and humiliation; the man who had filled her so deeply and mindfucked her so thoroughly the night before was influencing her already abraded and sore pussy without even being present. She should be shaking with anger and indignation, but instead, her legs were shaking from use and her pussy was dampening with need. What had he done to her in such a short amount of time? What he be able to do to her with the indefinite amount of time ahead?

The many questions Chloe didn't actually want to know the answers to were suddenly pushed to the back of her mind when her phone chimed from afar, alerting her to a new text message. She looked around her apartment, knowing she'd had her phone at the Clarkes' last night but obviously not knowing where it had landed when she had. She eventually found it in the drawer of her nightstand where she usually kept her vibrators and was momentarily alarmed to find all her many toys missing from their proper place. This particular feeling of alarm was replaced with a new and stronger one when she saw who the text was from: Oliver Clarke.

"Good morning, my little toy. Clean yourself up and be waiting for me by your front door in 30 minutes. Naked. Kneeling. Not a word spoken until I tell you otherwise. Go."

Chloe's heart had begun to race the second she saw his name on her screen, but it had promptly sunk after reading his orders for her. She had no idea what to expect when it came to her newfound servitude, but had hoped that it would be an occasional tryst that she wouldn't have to face yet. But here was her very own phone, lighting up her miserable face, taunting her with her new reality far too soon. She checked the time stamp on the message and saw 5 minutes had already passed, which left her 25 before having to kneel before her fears. She sighed with a hint of a sob and hurried to the bathroom to shower last night off of her just so he could ruin her body for the second time in 12 hours.

~~~

Oliver turned his key in Chloe's door and opened it to find her sitting on her knees in the entryway. Actually, 'sitting' was an exaggeration; her entire torso was resting on her upper thighs with her arms crisscrossed over her chest, hugging herself as she nearly hyperventilated. He watched what seemed to be the beginnings of a panic attack for a few moments before walking towards her and away from the still-open front door. Chloe lived in a street-level apartment which pleased Oliver to no end; the humiliation possibilities were infinite. He would enjoy making her uninstall her blinds and curtains but presently, he kneeled beside her and alerted her to his presence by gently petting her hair. Chloe audibly gasped and moved to sit up straight, but Oliver added some force to his touch and held her down in her folded over position, keeping her where she was and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

"Breathe, pet. I know you're scared. I relish it. But the longer you take to be present in your predicament, the longer those nosy pedestrians outside of your wide-open door have to gawk at the naked little slut on the floor."

Having redirected her anxiety, Oliver released Chloe's head so that it could snap up to confirm that her front door was, indeed, wide open and that pedestrians were, indeed, sneaking glances inside at her clothing-less form. She quickly lurched forward on her hands and knees to shove the door shut before anyone else could witness her subjugation, especially before she even had a chance to make sense of it. She was still deep in crisis-mode with no reprieve in sight that would give her time to process her situation, let alone how to extricate herself from it. All she knew was that she had too much to lose, and, at present, that was all Oliver wanted her to know.

As Chloe scrambled back from the firmly closed door, Oliver caught her hips from his seated position on the floor and pulled her into his lap like a child. She was still curled in on herself, grasping at whatever distance she could get between them even if it was mere millimeters. With Oliver's strong forearm locked around her lightly cushioned waist, his lips found her ear again.

"You're so tense, little girl," he said as his free hand went to one of her nipples to casually roll it between his fingers. "You used to be so relaxed around me... Some might say too relaxed, judging by the number of times you've flashed your tight, young pussy to me over the years."

Chloe jumped at his pinches even as she felt his hardening cock twitch underneath her. His thoughts of her preferred "no-panties" work outfits were clearly exciting him but she whimpered at her own recent memory; that very cock twitched the same way while deep inside of her currently throbbing pussy just hours before.

She took a deep breath to steady herself before saying softly but curtly, "That wasn't an invitation. I thought of you as a father. You've violated that trust in every way. You're disgusting."

Oliver smiled wistfully, never one to be bothered by an insult to his proclivities. He enjoyed what he enjoyed, and he certainly wasn't the only one. Why feel guilty when he had pride so close by as a much more appealing emotion? Countless grown men fantasized about the exact position he had orchestrated for himself, whether their fantasies centered around their leggy babysitters, surrogate daughters, or slutty neighbors. He had all three literally sitting naked in his lap. As far as he was concerned, it would be more of a crime if he didn't take advantage.

"If I'm disgusting, so are you. If you thought of me as a father, why did your flowing little pussy respond so quickly to me last night? Why do I have a feeling those same, swollen pussy lips are coated in juices as we speak? Shall I check?" Oliver pulled her hair behind her ear as he asked this trick question, wanting to see her face when she realized he fully intended to check no matter what she replied.

Blushing from her cheeks to her chest, Chloe frantically shook her head. "N-no, don't. This is so wrong! I don't want you to touch me again," she said, trying to sound firm as she struggled to close her knees in her awkwardly seated position. Cross-legged seemed to be her body's only option at the moment, though, so Oliver's impending hand met no obstacles on its way between her legs.

His two protruding fingers seemed to move in slow motion under Chloe's horrified gaze. Despite having watched their entire journey to the center of herself, Chloe gasped as his surprisingly gentle fingers made contact at the base of her slit and slid upwards, scooping slightly to gather as much of her natural lubricant as possible before bringing both drenched fingers up to her face.

He rotated them in the sunlight so she could see how much her juices sparkled when he said, "Is this how a daughter is supposed to react to her father? All I've done today is give you a few instructions and hug you by the waist, two completely innocent actions for a so-called father to do with his daughter. And yet, your beautiful, young body is reacting the way it would to someone you desperately want to fuck."

He brought his fingers to her lips and smeared her own juices across her plump, slightly parted mouth. Without thinking, she leaned against his hand as her mouth opened wider and eyes fluttered closed... before catching herself just shy of sucking his fingers against her tongue. She snapped herself out of her brief reverie and jerked away from his hand only to crash against his strong, broad chest just behind her.

Oliver chuckled, letting the naked girl sitting on his clothed cock prove his point for him all by herself. He hadn't anticipated how naturally submissive and reactive she could be, and the effect it had on him was like a lion he wouldn't be able to keep caged for much longer.

As Chloe hid from her shame with her face in her hands, Oliver began to shift his weight until she was cradled against his chest and he was carrying her over to the couch. "Ahh," Chloe thought as he didn't struggle in the slightest to lift her. "This somewhat explains how he got me home last night." As a 6' tall girl with some curves, she wasn't used to being picked up with such ease. In fact, she assumed the last time it had happened was years ago when she was much younger. Remembering how long ago that feeling had last occurred to her made her feel small and childlike, and not necessarily in a bad way.

Suddenly, she felt the world bottom out and found herself flopping down on the couch. She opened her eyes to glare at the man who had dropped her there but he had disappeared from view, and she heard the unexpected noise of her fridge opening and a glass clinking. Feeling cold due to her anxiety and the absence of his body heat in her air-conditioned apartment, Chloe rubbed her hands together and stuck them between her generous thighs as she was known to do in the case of a chill. She laid back with her eyes closed, intending to put this short moment alone to good use by pondering her situation and what her options were. She was physically and emotionally trapped by someone she'd trusted, by a man thoroughly interwoven in her life who happened to be more than twice her age, whom she was entirely at the mercy of if she wanted to live any semblance of the life she'd built...

Oliver returned with his iced coffee to find his supposedly unwilling captive with her entire body rocking and her hands clasped between her legs as she used them to stimulate her clit. Her face was scrunched up in concentration while little unintentional gasps escaped her mouth at regular intervals, clearly whenever her knuckles grazed just the right spot above her already-proven-wet slit. This kept happening; he was beginning to genuinely question whether this was nonconsensual after all.

He knelt in front of the couch she had lain sideways on and gently blew against her stimulated clit from a few inches away. Chloe remained in her own little world but her rocking gained fervor as she, once again, responded to him without hesitation.

Juuuust before she went over that delicious edge, Oliver slapped Chloe across her face just hard enough to leave it red without doing any real damage. Chloe sucked in her breath and jerked into a sitting position as her eyes flew wide open, displaying a look of confused betrayal.

"What was that for?!" she asked indignantly as she looked around her to figure out what she had been snapped out of. She was quickly learning that her mind dealt with trauma and fear by shutting her away from the world and, judging by the fresh throbbing between her legs, losing her in a daze of arousal. It was all she could do not to roll her hips against the pillow underneath her even as she realized this.

Oliver held her jaw in his hand, still kneeling in front of her. "You are NEVER to cum without asking, and certainly not before I've fucked you. I'll forgive your near-transgression this once since I haven't had a chance to explain the rules yet; who knew you'd be such a desperate slut that you'd grind against your own hand before we've had time for a conversation? This rule may be the hardest to remember, but I promise you its consequences will ensure it is followed."

Utterly and completely humiliated by her own body, Chloe felt the angry tears spill onto her cheeks as she imbued their eye contact with as much hatred as she could muster. This wasn't hard to do considering he had just slapped her out of an orgasm with a second to spare and was now threatening her with unknown horrors. Wait, why were they unknown again?

"What. Consequences?" Chloe growled out, not wanting to acknowledge his authority by treating this conversation as an indication of reality, but still feeling too curious to let the threat slide.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "That's quite a tone to be using to inquire about punishments, my brave little slut! Is humping your pillow giving you courage?"

Chloe looked down to see her lower half slowly but surely grinding against her couch cushion, almost imperceptibly but not to the observant and domineering man mere inches away. She sat up and crossed her legs like a lady would, despite the part where that lady was naked.

"Ah, that leads me to our second rule! We'll get to consequences later. I like to save the best for last, anyway." Oliver winked at her as she rolled her eyes, then continued, "From now on, when you are in the presence of any man, your legs are to remain parted. Keep at least 8 inches between your knees; roughly the length of my cock, if you need a way to remember!"

He said this cheerily as if his rule wouldn't open her up to constant harassment and uncomfortable situations by and with other dads she babysat for, professors, classmates, and strangers. Her anger gave way to despair as the truth sunk in further; this humiliation would not remain between Chloe and Mr. Clarke. It would extend to every aspect of her life and tinge every single one of her professional, educational, and platonic relationships with sex and unwanted advances.

"What if someone tries something?" Chloe hesitated to ask but forged ahead for the sake of clarity. She had always armed herself with as much information as possible, no matter how much it may hurt her. She hated not knowing.

Oliver tilted his head, pretending to consider an answer he had already given much thought. This was the very topic that had left him conflicted in past dalliances: was he too possessive to share or did he want his plaything to service any man he chose? Each had pros and cons, but he usually decided to use his girls to further his career by offering them up to potential clients to sweeten the deal. He had also been known to truly show them off to his friends once his bragging became a little too outlandish to believe, letting them see for themselves just how lucky he was. Of course, his friends consisted of the very men Chloe thought she would be hiding this secret from by acquiescing, but she didn't need to know that yet...

"You're a slut, Chloe. To be used in every way. But you're right, we don't want you to be ruined for your surrogate Daddy..." he paused with a grin, throwing her earlier attempt at a guilt-trip back in her face, "...so to anyone who tries something, you will present my card and tell them to call me. I will decide who touches you and where. You clearly can't be trusted seeing as how you'll fuck even the couch cushions."

With that, Oliver reminded Chloe of his second rule by forcing her legs apart the requisite eight inches and cupping her mound against his palm. With his other hand, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and brought his lips to hers for the first time ever, assaulting her mouth with his graceful and persistent tongue. Chloe squirmed in surprise, but almost immediately melted into his onslaught that implied more care than most of his actions. She was a sucker for tenderness, especially from people who rarely made use of it. Her reprieve was short-lived, though, and she tensed up when she felt his palm rubbing rhythmically against her orgasm-deprived clit. Her body picked up where it left off and began to buck against his hand, moaning desperately directly into his mouth until he suddenly pulled away completely.

His body out of her orbit, Chloe sat there with ruffled hair and swollen lips (both sets!) watching Oliver pull off his black jeans in a daze. Once his legs were free from denim, he grabbed Chloe by the waist and hoisted her around to her knees so that she was facing away from him and folded over the back of her own couch. Without any teasing, he lined his rock-hard cock up to her opening and impaled her completely on its full length.