The Babysitter

She seemed like the quiet type of girl that I would have taken advantage of when I was younger. You know the type, the sort of girl you lead on for a week or two, telling her every nice thing that you’ve said to every girl that is just like her; the kind of girl that is so desperate to find Mr. Right that every knowledgable Mr. Wrong has to only seem to care slightly. Before I settled down, I had done this to so many girls, that it had almost gotten to seem overly predictable, but the power trip got me off.
When I met Rebecca, my wife, I knew she was different. It wasn’t just the fact that she was 11 out 10, though this was what I noticed first: her huge, perfect breasts, and the way her curly blonde hair would always ending resting on them; her long legs, and her perfect ass that was always covered only slightly by a skirt that barely covered it, and yet somehow conveyed how unaware she was of the effect she had on everybody she passed. It was how everywhere she went, everyone listened to what she said, she was direct, businesslike and at the same time playfully affectionate, in a way that made her extremely successful as a businesswoman. Unaware being the key word, because it seemed she never realized why everything went her way. I was always skeptical of why she was with me, especially because
my own career was only marginal compared to her 6 figure salary, but she waws good to me.
Maybe a growing sense of paranoia prompted me to always have one foot out the door, but it seemed like I was always going just a little over the line with every woman I met. Nothing blatant, I never cheated on Rebecca, but, needlessly, I was always entertaining possibilities, and, because I never felt like Rebecca really belonged to me, I would take a sense of power wherever I could, and when I started toying with the babysitters head, it seemed almost natural.
The babysitter (Ashley), cute as she was, seemed like a nerd, and I started getting off on belitting her. Everyday, I would say something to break her down. I don’t know why this seemed ok, but at the time, it was almost like I wanted her to feel as shitty as I did married to someone I knew I shouldnt have been able to get. One day, I would say something subtly flirtacious, and the next day I would subtly find a way to call her stupid or a loser, I even said I bet she was a virgin.
This went on for months, until one day I came home, and made a little joke about how she probably babysat so much because she didn’t have any friends and couldn’t find a boyfriend.
She just smiled, a slow, creeping, triumphant smile.
I had drank a little, and I asked what the fuck was so funny.
She pointed to my computer. The screen was playing my secret stash of femdom porn, filled with every secret fantasy I would never want anyone to know. “What is that? I know what it is, you know your wife is too good for you. You played
with my head because you thought I was…what? Young, inexperienced? Does that get you off. You talk to women online? Your wife is the hottest woman that you will ever meet and you didn’t appreciate either of us. Those huge fucking titties are so fucking hot, and everyone notices them. Everyone wants to suck them and everyone wants to fuck her. Those titties are mine, and I’m going to show her what its like to get everything she wants….You’re cute, really, you’re not too bad, but she deserves the best. And I’m going to take everything away from you and if you try to stop me, everyone will know all your little perverted secrets.
You like women dominating men? Good because you are never going to come again and I bet that it will only take a week or two to make your hot wife start to feel frustrated and angry with your inattention.
After a month, she’s going to need to get fucked, fucked hard hard, and I’m going to help, because, you know, even though you think I’m nerd, I know every type of person and every one of them will up in that pussy while I watch her get fucked and suck on those hot, soft tits.”

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