tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Sitter Gets Caught - and Taught

The Sitter Gets Caught - and Taught


Note: This story contains elements of non-consent/reluctance. If that's not your thing, this may not be the story for you.

Note #2: While this story involves adults who are related, strictly speaking, there is no overtly "taboo" sexual activity between them. They do have a bit of fun with an unrelated partner, though:)

Comments and feedback are always welcome!

The summer after I graduated was great -- at least the parts I can remember. Most of my friends stuck around after school got out, so there was just one party after another, at least until August, when we all went our separate ways to college. My folks were pretty great about letting me come and go as I pleased, too. My parents divorced when I was young, and I stayed with my dad. He married Kate, my stepmother, when I was in middle school, and they had my stepsister, Tracy, shortly after. Kate was a good addition to our testosterone-laden home. She could be almost impossibly cool, like an older sister sometimes, but she still had lines, and God forbid you cross one. She came into our lives when I was young enough that, by the time I was in my late teens, I just called her "mom," which was easy to get used to, considering my biological mother was never around.

I was 18 and technically an "adult," sure, but Mom and Dad could easily have been stricter than they were since I was still living under their roof. They never gave me flack for staying out late or coming home on occasion with beer on my breath. They also made sure that I had time for work and friends by never giving me too many responsibilities around the house, especially when it came to taking care of Tracy, who was ten years my junior. Every time they wanted to go out for an evening, they got a sitter -- usually some college girl on break -- so that I could take off. Since they were so cool about things, I tried to help out as much as I could, mowing the lawn, doing the dishes, or once in a while, coming home early to relieve the babysitter if they wanted to stay out later.

That was exactly what happened the night everything changed.

My dad, Wade, was a construction supervisor at a new development downtown. He had worked his way up through the ranks, starting as a steelworker and getting promoted year-after-year. The other guys liked his boisterous personality, and the bosses were impressed with his tireless strength and work ethic, as well as his ability to get anyone to toe the line. (Being 6'5" and 290 pounds didn't hurt in that department.) They'd finally made him top dog of a major project -- a 50-story high rise on the river -- and the new building was complete. To celebrate, he had been invited to a gala dinner with my stepmom.

His job had afforded them a nice home in the suburbs, with a pool out back and a lot of space, including one of those sunken living rooms, complete with a giant sofa and a flatscreen TV. You'd never know they were well-off by looking at my dad, though. His idea of dressing up was wearing the black Carhartt jacket instead of the ratty brown one. So, the night of the gala, it was a shock to see him in a charcoal grey suit and black tie.

"Hey, Dad, you lose a bet?" I joked as he tugged at the starchy collar.

"Hardy-fucking-har," he shot back. "I hate this crap, but the owners said I had to wear it. I can't wait to burn this damn thing out back tomorrow."

"Mom about ready?" I asked.

"Right here," I heard from the stairwell as she came down. Whereas Dad looked like a magician in a straitjacket act, my stepmom looked like a starlet. She had on a deep blue halter dress with a slit up the side and the highest heels I could imagine. She was stunning. She walked up to my dad and wrapped her arms around his neck. They were just about to kiss when Tracy bounded into the room.

"Uck! Get a room!" she spat.

"Maybe we will. Then you'll have a sitter all night," Mom responded with a smile. Tracy growled and slunk into the living room.

"Where are you going tonight?" Mom asked me.

"Paul's having a few of us over to play pool, so I'll probably be over there. His dad just got a new table, and he wants to show it off."

"Sounds like fun," Dad said. "Can I come?"

"Oh no, you don't," Mom said quickly. "You promised to be on your best behavior tonight and to introduce me to all your work friends."

"But, honey," he started in a mock-pleading tone.

"Break the promise, and you'll have to wear that suit tomorrow, too." My dad gave a fake shudder, and we all laughed.

"Well, you guys have fun. I'm heading out," I said, grabbing my keys.

"Okay, honey, be safe," Mom said with a quick hug.

"Have fun," Dad added, clapping me on the back. I tossed my keys in the air, caught them, and headed out the door.


The pool party had gone quickly from shooting balls to shooting the shit, and we were all laughing loudly when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket with a text from my stepmom.

How's your night going?

Fine, I texted back. Just hanging out.

Are you sober? Came her reply a minute later.

Mostly, I typed. I had only had a beer or two. My folks never asked me that, so I wondered what was up. Her reply took a couple minutes.

Good. Can you do us a huge favor? This party is going a lot later than we planned, and we told Amber we'd be home by 11:30. I glanced at my watch. It was only 10:30 now, but the party was at least an hour away. It's her first time watching Tracy, and I don't want to be late. Could you go home a little early and let her go? There's money on the counter for her.

I didn't really want to leave, but my parents had been cool enough this summer to warrant at least a little payback in kind.

Sure, I typed quickly. My house was only a few minutes away, but as long as I was going to be ending things early anyway, I decided to head home. Maybe instead of getting my drink on with the guys, I could have some quality alone time before my folks showed up, if you know what I mean.

I pulled up to the driveway just before 11. It didn't occur to me until I got to the front door that there was an extra car in the driveway. When I noticed it, though, I shrugged it off. Maybe this Amber girl had one of her friends helping her. I pushed the door open and stepped in to the dark house -- the second oddity of the situation. Why were the lights off? I didn't hear anything at first, so I crept through the entryway and down the hallway to the kitchen. About halfway there, I heard it -- a short, high-pitched moan. Motherfucker. That wasn't a friend's car. That was a dude's car! This new sitter was in deep shit.

I crept toward the living room, listening to the sounds of their make-out session and planning to catch them in the act. I got to the first step down to the living room, flicked on the light switch, and yelled to surprise them.


"Oh my God!" the girl, Amber, shouted as she jumped up from the couch. Her top was off, and I noted quickly her sizable tits encased in a lacy white bra. She raced to cover herself, apologizing in a panic. "I'm so sorry! I'm sooo sorry!! You must be Mark. Please don't tell your parents!" The dude, some dweeby-looking gamer type, jumped up, too, one hand covering the rapidly-softening prick sticking out of his pants and one hand held out to me, as if expecting to hold me back. They were both scared shitless.

I couldn't believe it. This bitch was supposed to be watching my sister and keeping an eye on the house, and here she is getting God-knows-what all over my parents' furniture! On her first day, no less! I stared down both of them, doing my best impression of my dad.

"What the fuck is going on? Where's Tracy?" I growled.

"S-she's asleep. She's been out for hours," Amber said. "I'm so sorry." She was almost in tears.

"Look, man, it wasn't her fault," Gamer Dude started to say.

"Shut the hell up," I cut him off. "You," I ordered him, "get the fuck out." He glanced quickly back at Amber and then beat a hasty retreat to the front door. I heard it slam and turned back to Amber. She was struggling with her shirt, her nerves making it harder to put on. Her large breasts quivered with her frantic movements.

"Stop," I snapped. She held the shirt to her chest, but it didn't cover up the white skin of her shoulders and toned belly. "I can't believe you." I started down the steps toward her. "What if my sister got hurt? My parents trusted you. What if she had a bad dream?" I was right in front of her now. "Were you going to run upstairs with your tits flopping around?" To punctuate my point, I ripped the shirt from her hands. She stood there helpless. I was probably angrier than I needed to be, but the more I thought about everything -- how cool my parents were, how special tonight was for them, how I had to leave early because they were trying to do right by her -- the more pissed I got.

"I swear, it was an accident! I didn't mean..."

"An accident?!" I laughed. "What, you tripped and wound up topless? Don't fucking lie to me. You called him up to get a little dick because you can't make it an hour without it!"

"It's not like that," she pleaded. Her hands were upturned, practically begging me to go easy on her. Her face -- and it was a gorgeous face -- was slack-jawed in embarrassment and fear.

I don't know what came over me then. Maybe it was her small, upturned hands begging me to understand. Maybe it was her big brown eyes set in a gorgeous, pleading face. Maybe it was the white bra, which this close up was nearly see through, hinting at her dark nipples. Maybe it was all this and more. Either way, I felt my pants tighten at the sight and became rapidly convinced; this girl needs to be taught a lesson.

I slapped her hands away. "Don't try to cover up now," I said. "You were so eager to get naked in my parents' house a minute ago. What happened, slut? Suddenly recover your virtue?"

"Wh-wh-what?" She was stunned. "What are you talking about?" She took a step back and regained some of her courage. For just a second, she was the older college student and not the deer-in-the-headlights sitter. "Look, I'm sorry, I screwed up. But that doesn't mean you get to talk to me like this. I'm leaving."

She reached for her shirt, but I pulled it away. "Give me my damn shirt!" she yelled. We played a game, with her reaching for it and me moving out of the way. Finally, she crossed her arms, forcing her tits to bulge up.

"Fine," she said with a look of death. "Is this what you want? Getting a good look, asshole?" I said nothing. "Go ahead. Take a nice, hard look, you perv. Getting off, catching me like this?" she asked.

I dropped her shirt and took a slow, deliberate step forward. I was so close her breasts were grazing my chest. I could smell her perfume. Her arms dropped to her chest as I leaned down, my lips almost touching her ear.

"Not yet," I whispered in reply. I grabbed the back of her bra strap and whipped her around, pulling her backside against me. "I don't think you've learned your lesson. You need to be taught how to behave in my house."

I pulled her by her bra strap roughly as I moved toward the couch. In one fluid movement, I dropped down to the seat and pulled her over my lap. Her pale skirt fell in waves over her ass and thighs, shifting as she struggled but keeping her covered.

"What are you doing?!" she squealed.

"Teaching you a lesson," I said calmly. I lifted my arm and brought it slamming down on her cotton-covered ass. She yelped and flailed under me. I spanked her again, her skirt billowing out with the wind from each blow. I had started intending to scare the bejeezus out of her, but as I felt her squirm against my lap and felt her supple ass respond to each hard smack, my cock hardened. After a few minutes, her cries subsided, and her movements slowed to small shudders as I continued to spank her. My hand almost stung with the effort. My other hand, almost without me realizing it, was no longer holding her in place but caressing her back. I was enjoying this, loving the thrill of hurting her. But I began to wonder if she was enjoying this, too. My excitement waned at the thought. I needed to up the ante.

I smacked her ass hard and kept my right hand resting there. With my other hand, I tugged her skirt over her ass, feeling it slide out of the way of my right hand, leaving it resting on her bare skin. A thin strip of white fabric disappeared between her tight cheeks, hinting at the holes between. It took her a moment to realize what had happened. Once she did, she tried to tug her skirt back in place, but I held her firmly.

The first sharp crack of my hand on her exposed flesh made her reel in shock and pain, and I saw the faint remnant of my handprint on her white globe. Smack, smack, smack! The mark reddened, and this time, her yelps didn't weaken. Each forceful blow elicited a cry of pain, so much that I finally had to pull her by the hair and order her roughly, "Shut the fuck up and take it. I'm going to beat your ass until you can't sit down without remembering me."

I held her long blonde hair in my hand as I spanked her. She bit her lip hard, grunting but holding back from louder noises. As the blood flowed to her tender backside, my own blood flowed to my now-engorged cock. I'd never been harder, and the tight denim of my jeans was starting to hurt. I needed release. I massaged her scarlet bottom and pulled her up from my lap by her hair.

"Kneel," I demanded. When she didn't immediately comply, I grabbed the waistband of her skirt and forced her to the floor. She was between my spread legs, her chest heaving. "Take it off," I said, indicating her bra. She hesitated, and without thinking, I slapped a heavy hand across her tits, sending them bouncing into each other. I placed my hand on her throat -- not choking her, mind you, but making clear to her that I was in control. She reached behind her back and unclasped the bra, letting it fall from her shoulders.

Her breasts were perfect. They were large and full and heavy. Her nipples were dark, the areolas at least two inches across, even hard. The skin around her nipples was tightly puckered, and each nub stuck straight out from its mountainous base. I reached for them with both hands, my fingertips grazing the tips, flicking them. She closed her eyes and pushed her chest forward. I encased each breast with my hands, the tit-flesh overflowing them. I caressed them for a moment before returning my attention more directly to her nipples. Grasping each between my thumb and forefinger, I pulled them hard, twisting and stretching her tits into obscene pyramids of flesh. She winced, but said nothing. I continued to pull on them until her body followed, slowly sinking against me. With my crotch at her chest, I let go, and she opened her eyes to look at me.

"Take it out," I ordered. She knew exactly what I meant, and her hands reached for my belt. She pulled the leather strap through the loops and started to set it aside.

"Wait," I said. I took the belt from her and wrapped part of it around my hand, leaving the long tail loose. She reached for my button and zipper, but I put my hand on hers, stopping her.

I shook my head. "Beg for it."

Aghast, she spat, "What?! Are you ser-"


I brought the belt down expertly over her body, the wide leather smacking the small of her back, the thinner tip catching her still-tender ass. "Ow!" Again, I brought the belt down on her. "Ok! Ok!" she yelled. "Please, please," she begged in a very convincing tone. "Let me take it out. I-I-I want to see it, I want to see your big dick. Please let me have it." I had to admit, she was good.

"What are you going to do if I let you, slut?" I asked, pushing it further.

"I, uh, I'll suck it," she said weakly. "Is that what you want?" she asked in a small voice. "I'll suck it good for you. Just don't use the belt again. I'll milk your balls and take your hot cum in my mouth."

"Will you lick my balls, like the dirty, cock-sucking ball-washer you are?"

"Yes, yes. Please just let me take it out and show you how good I can be. Please don't hit me again."

"God, you're such a whore," I said in disgust. "Fine, take it out, you fucking cumslut." She pulled at my button and zipper and fished my cock out of my pants. Now, I'm not exactly small -- about 8 inches , if my bedside ruler is accurate -- but this whole evening had me so worked up, I felt like had a 2x4 between my legs. I watched her eyes go wide with genuine surprise as she tried to wrap her hand around the thick shaft. She stroked up and a large, clear drop of precum oozed from the tip. Her hand traveled my length, fluid leaking from my head with each stroke.

"Well, slut," I finally said. "You going to suck that or stroke it all day?" Without a word, she opened her mouth to take me in. Her lips ringed my shaft as her tongue danced around the head. She struggled to take more in, but her throat was full as she gagged on my member. She wrapped a hand around the base and jerked it as she sucked on the tip. The sensation was incredible, and I forgot all about the belt. I grabbed her hair roughly with both hands and fucked her face, grunting with each thrust. Saliva and precum coated her chin and dripped to her chest, leaving her tits with a shiny glaze.

"Fuck, yes," I groaned. "Take that cock, you fucking slut. Is this what you were going to do to that little bitch you brought over here?"

"Mmhmm," she intoned.

"I bet you like having a real cock to suck on, don't you?"

"Mmhmmmm!" she hummed louder.

"Are you going to be my good little cumbucket and take the whole load? Say it!" She pulled my cock from her mouth and wiped the fluid from her chin.

"Yes, I want it," she moaned, never taking her eyes from my cock. "I'll be your cumbucket. Fill my mouth with your juice!"

I pulled her head back on to my dick. I could feel the excitement building in my balls. I was so close. I grabbed her head and choked her with my cock as it exploded in her throat, wave after wave of cum spraying inside her. I hunched my hips as the last rope shot out. She had no room to spit, so she swallowed the massive load, a tiny trickle issuing from the corner of her lips. My erection never wavered, even for a second, as she bobbed to get the last drop.

"Well, this is an interesting sight," I heard from behind me. Amber tried to jump off my cock, but I involuntarily held her in place, my head swiveling to see my dad and stepmom standing by the entryway. "One of you had better start explaining," Mom said, "and as her mouth is full, Mark, why don't you begin."

She was dead serious, and both she and my dad came into the living room and sat on the couch adjacent to us. I caught my dad eyeing Amber's tits, but my stepmom was staring hard at me. Partly in shock and partly reasoning that I didn't want her to see my boner, I kept Amber firmly in place with my dick in her mouth.

"I, uh," I stammered. "See, umm..." In stuttering phrases, I spit out the gist of what had brought us into this situation. When I finished, my stepmom, in her cool, calm, take-no-shit voice, said, "I see," and walked over to us. I couldn't believe what was happening. Was this real?

She reached down and grabbed Amber's hair, tipping her head back to look at her. Amber kept her mouth on my cock, which made the whole scenario even weirder.

"So you thought," Mom started, "that we would pay you to come to our house and take advantage of our trust so you could get fucked by your boyfriend?" Amber tried to protest, but her sounds were to no avail. "Are you that much of a slut that you couldn't even resist my stepson when he caught you? Will you just suck any dick you see??" Amber tried to shake her head, but Mom pressed on. "What about my husband? If he takes out his tool, are you going to suck it, too?"

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