SitterCam by Pervitron    Back.

 WARNING: The following story contains graphic descrip-

 tions of a sexual nature. It is intended for mature

 persons only. Any persons not old enough to legally

 receive adult materials or who are offended by them

 should read no farther. Further distribution of this

 story--and all others of this nature by this author--is

 permissible only to appropriate persons and only if the

 contents and author credit are unchanged.



 NOTES:



 1. Copyright (c) June 1998.



 2. The persons and situations depicted in this story

 are entirely fictitious. Any similarities to actual

 persons or situations are completely unintentional and

 coincidental.



 3. Reader comments and feedback are always encouraged;

 send to Pervitron@Hotmail.com



 4. This story may be copied for free distribution,

 provided the author credit is retained.



 5. This is a FANTASY. No one should act towards children

 in the manner depicted her. 

________________________________________________________

Tom was right. Of course he would hire her.

Gabriella sat before Bill like an apparition, a dark angel of desire. She was a gorgeous young Latin girl with jet black hair. It fell in ringlets all around her pretty face, framing her black, piercing eyes, and soft red cheeks. He imagined the feel of those cheeks and the way her hair would smell if he held her close and whispered dirty things into her ear. Gabriella's dark eyes studied him with a brilliant hard stare. This girl wouldn't take any shit.

Girls only look this perfect until they're 20; Bill was glad he caught sight of her before she passed that age. Gabriella's body was perfectly proportioned, made, Bill was sure, by a combination of natural beauty and lots of strenuous exercise. She was probably a gymnast, he judged, because of her combination of shapeliness, strength and grace. She was wearing a silk flowered low-necked top. It was made of a thin material with a pattern of bright flowers designed to catch the eye, and the ends of it were tied together in a bow between her breasts, pulling them together. There was lots of skin showing, warm, tempting skin the color of light coffee. And the feet! She wore white stockings under her jeans, and brilliant black high heeled shoes with ankle straps and opened toes. Every strap and buckle was polished to a high shine. Within the white stockings, Bill could see toes that were painted a fiery red. She had a gold ankle bracelet on each foot.

Bill wondered if Tom knew about him, wondered for the millionth time in his life if his secret wishes could be sensed by others. He didn't know Tom very well, since he only started working with him when Bill moved here a few months ago. The new job would be difficult for Bill; He'd have to work late almost every night in the next few months, so he needed to find someone to watch his 12 year- old son, Timmy. Tom was also a single father, so it was only natural for Bill to ask him if he knew anybody. And sure enough, Tom's girlfriend was moving in, he wouldn't need Gabriella to watch his two daughters anymore. Bill never though to ask what she looked like, and Tom never said.

Gabriella was so perfect for Bill, it made him wonder again, "Can people sense I'm a submissive?" It wasn't just her body - no, he'd seen a few girls that were as beautiful as she was. No, it was the attitude. It was the confidence when she looked at him, knowing full well he was on fire inside. It was that voice; At one point Bill asked her a proper, businesslike question about whether she had any experience with boys that age, and his heart surged when she said: "Boys are actually less trouble than girls". Bill was sure she saw him turn read when she placed that teasing undertone on the word "trouble." He felt like she stepped from the pages of one of the Female Supremacy magazines that he kept hidden in the garage. He wanted to kneel before her, hold her foot like it was a jewel from heaven, promise her that he'll be her slave forever. He'd do anything, anything for her as long as she'd allow him to kiss that perfect 20 year-old ass.

The interview was a formality, really, just a tease. Once she walked in and he saw her, he knew he would hire her. His conscience was clear; Tom had two small daughters she sat for twice a week, and he said she was very good. "You'll love her," Tom had said. Bill already did.

Besides, Bill remembered the video camera he and his ex-wife used to monitor sitters a few years ago. Yes, he would use it with Gabriella. You can't be too careful, he told himself.

"Timmy, I'll need to be working later these next few months. So I've arranged to have a sitter to come by after school"

Timmy shook his head, shaking his long blond hair. "I don't need a sitter, Dad. Other guys I know stay by themselves after school!"

Bill wasn't surprised. He remembered what he was like when he was 12. It was great to have the house to yourself. Smoke cigarettes and jerk off; Look at dirty magazines. If that was all there was to worry about now, Bill would have left him alone. But he knew that there were real dangers for kids that age now, things like drugs, or drinking.

"You'll like her, Timmy. She's really nice." Thinking about the reaction Timmy would have when he saw her, when the boy caught his first glimpse of that tempting young body of hers. Bill knew what was happening inside his 12 year-old. Timmy had grown several inches in the past year, and while his shoulder length blond hair still left him with the androgynous look of a child, the shape of his chest and torso was changing, taking on some of the tight hardness of a teenaged boy. Timmy was a handsome young boy. Living like two men together, Bill and Timmy were quite open, walking around nude all the time. There was still no hair on the Timmy's cock, but Bill noticed it was becoming bulkier, it swung freely as he walked. Sometimes it seemed thicker than usual, as if the boy was aroused by something. Timmy loved girls - many times at the mall or at the beach Bill sensed that both he and Timmy were staring at the same girl. Sometimes Bill even commented on the girl, but Timmy would turn away, embarrassed. Boys that age are secretive.

The next morning, before he went to work, Bill set up the recording unit. The camera was the size of a pencil eraser. He left the end of it between two books on the wall unit, just to the right of the TV and VCR. That way he could monitor anyone sitting on the couch in front of the TV, and even no one was there the mike would still pick up voices from nearby rooms. But Gabriella would probably be like the other sitters, just sit around all day and watch TV. Bill got a secret thrill, thinking about watching the young beauty, sitting there unsuspecting. Who knows what would happen if Timmy wasn't nearby. Like if he was upstairs doing his homework. He pictured Gabriella spreading those legs wide and reaching down between them...

He ran the end of the wire behind the wall unit, and down through the floor alongside cable hookup. He then went downstairs and connected it to the recording unit, a console with five tape units. He set the timer for the next week. Since the tapes switch over automatically, he should be able to capture a full week before any tapes were overwritten.

Bill worked very late that whole first week, so he didn't have time to check out the tapes. Besides, there was no reason to be suspicious. Bill would get home about 11 o'clock, and as Gabriella threw her backpack over her shoulders, she would bend over, and Timmy would give her a kiss on the cheek. Bill knew how unusual open affection like that was for his son, and he couldn't help but see the look in the boy's eyes during the brief kiss. Timmy was smitten.

"Gabriella's cool, Dad!" Bill and Timmy were standing in the doorway, watching Gabriella walk to her car. Bill knew his boy liked her, he could tell a crush was forming, a little puppy love.

"I'm glad you like her, son." Bill was watching the dance of her ass as she walked, imagining the color and texture of her panties, wondering if she even wore any. Bill would spend Saturday morning reviewing the tapes, not expecting to find anything, really. Bill felt a tingle as he thought about the tapes. "What does Gabriella do all night?"

"Nothing really. Just watch TV"

It was Saturday. Bill took out the Monday tape and jumped to a random spot. What he saw electrified him.

Gabriella was on one end of the couch, Timmy the other. She must change her clothes before I arrive home, Bill thought; He hadn't seen this outfit, and he was sure he would have remembered it. It was a tight pink dress, with a low neckline, showing the full shape of her large breasts. The skirt part was hooker short, ending less than halfway down her thighs, high enough to expose the lacing of her white thigh-high stockings.

She was spread out on the couch, half facing the TV, half facing Timmy, and her long legs were stretched out along the couch. Her feet were resting on Tim's lap. Bill saw them, saw the shape of them in their white stockings, and he felt a jolt in his crotch. He had no doubt that Timmy was hard as a rock, too. Who wouldn't be?

She was teasing him. They must have been watching MTV or VH1. Bill could hear the Spice Girls singing. Gabriella would glance at the TV, then look at Timmy. "You like her, little boy?" Her voice had a high pitched, almost mocking, lilt. Timmy was trying not to answer, Bill could see he was beet red with embarrassment. "C'mon, you like Ginger, I bet!" and she pulled her leg back, and poked him in the stomach with her toes, tickling him. "Tell me!"

Finally, Timmy got a few words out. "Yeah, I like that one there ... I guess." Gabriella looked towards the TV. "Ohhh, you like the dark-haired one..." settling back, curling her toes with satisfaction. Bill could almost hear the static play of nylon. Bill noticed Timmy looking at her feet; Whenever Gabriella glanced towards the TV, Timmy's eyes would wander up the length of her legs towards her crotch.

"I guess you like dark girls." rubbing her feet together on his lap, "Dark girls like me?" Timmy swallowed, looked quickly at her, then looked down.

"Yeah," he said, softly, too shy to speak up.

"Tell me more, Timmy, tell me how I make you feel," spoken softly, faintly. The silence was electric. She was leading him on, drawing him out. Bill sensed she was laying the bait. "It's OK, I like you too." She sat up and moved over to his side of the couch, and reached her arms around him, drawing the little boy close. "Mommy likes her little boy," she said as she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Oh God! The words and the sound of her voice brought the memory of Mrs. Johnson alive in Bill again. She sounded just like Mrs. Johnson, she had that same sultry voice, that same sadistic, mean streak. Bill knew then that Gabriella liked to tease and torment young boys. His instinct told him that any moment now, just as Timmy started to get aroused, Gabriella would flash at him, make him jump with fright. Just like Mrs. Johnson was with young Bill, she'd never let her boy relax, she would use her moods, her womanly moods keep the little pet forever on edge. Bill knew he'd see the same thing happen all over again with his son; He sat transfixed, helpless, like the observer of a scientific experiment.

Gabriella was whispering in Timmy's ear, Bill could tell from the vacant look in his son's eyes that whatever she said was touching him deep inside, stirring a fiery need in his small body. Timmy's face was red with passion. The little boy placed a tentative hand high on Gabriella's thigh, near the lace top of her stocking.

Gabriella stood up and exploded: "What the FUCK do you think you're doing!" Timmy sank into the couch in horror, looking up at her. "Touching me there, you little pervert!" She started slapping him, swinging at his face, hitting his arms that he used to shield himself. "Christ, you sick little animal!" Timmy ran away, Bill could hear him running up the stairs.

Gabriella just stood there and watched him go. She sat back on the couch and resumed watching TV, a smile formed on her face. She was so happy with herself, flushed with satisfaction.

Lesson 1 was over, Bill sensed. And this was only Monday's tape. Bill had a raging hardon, thinking about the girl, about the power of that seductive young thing. She was such a squirt teaser, tormenting the boy mercilessly, but keeping his desires active too, training her little pet. Bill remembered the way Timmy kissed her goodbye each night.

Bill had found his woman, after all. He skipped ahead to Wednesday.

Timmy was laying across her lap, his pants down around his ankle, his bare middle laying half on her skirt, and the other half on her white stockings.

"There boy. Mommy doesn't want to do this." She was cooing at him, talking softly. Her left hand was holding him tight by the hip, keeping him pinned there. Her right hand was doing something to the boy's rear end. Bill realized with a jolt that the movement was a caress. "Mommy wants her little boy to behave, so I can make nice to him ... " she was rubbing the tips of her polished nails right along the base of his underside, just above his scrotum. "... Like this." Bill knew just what that felt like, to be stroked lightly there, and he knew his son would be stiff and hard against her lap.

Suddenly, that same hand swung back and flew hard against his ass. Crack! "Owwwwww!" Timmy wailed, and she spat a torrent of fire at him: "But no, some little boys have dirty thoughts. You little shitball, I can feel that DIRTY LITTLE THING of yours!" Her eyes flashed like a cat, and she bared her teeth as she gave him a few more slaps, Timmy shuddered and Bill knew he was starting to cry.

Bills heart was beating madly, half sick at himself for watching this, but unable to turn it off either. It was already over, he reasoned, the psychodrama he was watching had happened days ago. He could do what he had to do later, protect his son, but in the meanwhile he would watch. He told himself that he had to know everything, had to have full knowledge of all the events so he could be there for his son.

She stopped hitting him a moment. The tape was silent, except for Timmy's sobbing. Gabriella leaned over, stroked his long hair and gave him a soft kiss on the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I had to do that, sweetie," said in a gentle whisper, "I know you can't help it, I know what little boys are like." Timmy was sobbing louder now, his cheeks were red with shame and his face was streaked with tears. Gabriella started caressing his red ass cheeks. "Mommy hates to hurt her little boy, Mommy doesn't like to hurt Timmy's little tush." The last was said with just a hint of teasing. Her hand moved lower down on his ass. Timmy started to calm down, and as his sobbing subsided, Gabriella started in again, the tips of her fingers started their little dance by the boy's balls again. Bill grew stiff as he watched, holding his breath in anticipation.

Smack! Smack! "You little fucker, that THING is at it again!" She hit him, again and again. Bill could see Timmy's ass spasm with each shot, and Bill knew that each spasm would make Timmy's cock jump against Gabriella's stockings. Their silky feel would keep it erect no matter what punishment Gabriella was inflicting. "I don't want to feel that FILTHY PIECE OF SHIT against me!" Bill was rubbing himself now. Timmy was in the Zone, his rear on fire with pain, his cock dancing wildly in the warmth of "Mommy's" lap.

She kept it up, one smack after another, alternating cheeks, but keeping the pacing and severity of her blows unpredictable. She would stop for a moment, holding her hand up, saying, "Mommy will wait two seconds for you to get that SICK LITTLE THING off me!" Timmy would shift himself, raising his butt higher, risking the increased exposure to pull his hard little cock back so it was no longer touching Gabriella. He would wait there, hoping she would stop, his rear anticipating another blow. "You sick little MORON, that was a lot longer than two seconds," she hissed, "you like this, don't you!" Now she really let him have it. The blows rained down on his shuddering ass cheeks, Timmy's whole body was shaking uncontrollably.

Like a storm drifting out to sea, Gabriella's mood changed. "You can get up now, and stand up," she said calmly. Timmy rose slowly, and when he stood up, then Gabriella got up too. It was a cheap camera with a small field of vision - Bill could see all of Timmy, but all Bill could see of Gabriella was her body up to the tops of her breasts. Timmy stood there, looking down. Bill could see her hand reach down, and softly wipe the tears from his cheeks. After a moment, she drew the boy towards her, pulling his face between her breasts.

Her big breasts were nearly exposed in the low necked cotton top Gabriella was wearing. Timmy's mouth was near her left nipple, just an inch or so from the spot where it poked into the thin white fabric; His nose and cheek were on her bare skin. Bill could almost smell Gabriella's lovely tits as he watched his son bury his face into them, losing himself in their lovely smell. "Mommy loves her little man, loves feeling her baby against her" Timmy's eyes were closed, his pants were still down by his ankles. His thighs pressed tight against Gabriella, the boy's cock had never lost its stiffness.

Puppy love.

It was Sunday, and Timmy was at a little league game. Bill was sitting on the same couch as they had been, surrounded by opened video boxes. This was the second time through the week's tapes. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. His right hand was on his cock, his left on the remote control. He stroked himself, keeping himself hard while the tape sped forward. He was looking for that one scene, the one he first watched yesterday and couldn't stop thinking about. Was it on Friday's tape, or Thursday's? He was almost at the end of the earlier tape when he found it. He settled back in the chair and pressed play...

Timmy walked over and placed a small chair in front of the couch. Bill recognized it as Timmy's first little chair, the one he used to sit on until he was about 4. Gabriella was sitting in front of the spot where he placed it, her legs crossed. Her top leg was angled towards the chair, the purple pump on her feet just a foot or so from it. Timmy stood behind the baby chair, waiting, looking ridiculous. All the boy was wearing was his underwear, a pair of Spiderman undies that Timmy hadn't worn since he was about 5. Bill recognized the superhero blue and red pattern on Timmy's butt. The undies were wedged tight into his asscrack. The boy had a stiff hardon poking through the front, towards Gabriella.

Bill adjusted his hand motion.

"Sit down, Timmy." The boy complied, perched on the edge of his seat, his blond hair falling down over his face, hiding it from Bill.

"Are you ready for today's lesson, Timmy"

"Yes"

"Yes, what!" She got up from the couch and started walking around him, the shift of her body as she stepped was punctuated by the sound of her heels. She was holding something.

"Y-Y-Yes, Mommy"

She was holding a pair of playtex yellow rubber gloves. She was walking around him, taking her sweet time and stepping hard, enjoying the crack of her heels against the wooden floor. She clutched the gloves, pulling and stretching them roughly between her hands.

"That's better. Tell me, Timmy, why are you wearing those stupid little undies"

"Y-y-you t-t-told me to M-m-m-m-m-ommy"

"Are you just acting STUPID, you little cocksucker! God, what a fuckin' dork. You're wearing those prissy boy undies because you're a FUCKING BABY!"

She leaned over him, her hands on her hips. You couldn't see her face because of the camera, but Bill could clearly see the wide-eyed look of fear on Timmy's face as he looked up at her. Without realizing it, Timmy reached his hands to the front of his undies, and started rubbing himself through the cotton fabric, consoling himself as young boys do.

"You filthy little shit. Get you're little hands off that RIDICULOUS LITTLE THING! What a sorry little excuse for a boy you are!"

And with that she straightened up, lifted one foot to his chest and started pushing with her heel against his chest, angling the chair back. Timmy's feet were still on the ground, but the way he was positioned, his whole upper body was balanced awkwardly on the rear legs of the chair; She could topple him over with the slightest additional push of her foot. He moved just enough to comply, taking his hands away from his crotch, but that was it. He was afraid any other sharp movement would tip the chair over.

"M-m-m-mommy, please!" Timmy was crying now.

Bill started moving his hand faster, putting the remote down and using his free hand to caress his balls. It was coming.

Gabriella slowly let the chair down. "Tell you what, sweetie..." She was switching gears now, moving in for the kill, "Mommy knows what you want. Do you believe that?"

"Yes Mommy"

"Mommy knows what little boys like. You like to rub yourself, don't you?" She was whispering, leaning down over him, the stillness of her hushed voice reached deep into the boy, like a prayer. "Tell Mommy what you like."

"I like to rub myself." Timmy sounded far away, as if he was in some sort of trance.

"Tell Mommy that Timmy likes to rub his little winkie."

"I like to rub my little winkie."

"And tell Mommy what you think about?"

"I think - about you, Mommy."

Bill's heart was beating feverishly, his hand was rubbing his cock raw as he watched Gabriella, loving the sound of arousal in her teasing voice.

"Go ahead, Timmy, go ahead, rub yourself while you're telling me." Gabriella sat back on the couch, and crossed her legs the same way she did before. This time she let her pump dangle, swinging it in front of the boy, like a hypnotist. "Sure Timmy, pull those little undies down, you little BABY!" She was laughing, a high pitched, quick little giggle that sent a delicious thrill through Bill's groin.

Timmy slid his undies around his ankles and started rubbing himself, rubbing his little peter.

"Timmy I can't even see that little thing. Are you sure its all the way up?" Timmy was rubbing like a boy scout trying to start a fire, his body perched on the baby seat, his hair flailing all around as he did himself. Gabriella taunted him. All Bill could see of her was her legs, from the thigh tops of her stocking to the dangling pump. But that voice, that musical, sweet vixen voice was tearing his guts out. So cruel it was, so knowing.

"You're not saying anything, Timmy, I though you were going to tell Mommy what it was you thought about. Something you can't say?" You could hear the play in her voice, the inner smirk. She let her pump drop to the floor. She started flexing her toes in front of Timmy, flexing them slowly within their mesh of white nylon, the gold of her ankle bracelet glittering. "Maybe it's my feet?" Her voice turned slightly, some annoyance coming to the surface.

"Lick my feet, you little shithole!" Some precum formed on the tip of Bills cock. She pushed her foot into Timmy's face, "Go ahead, you little shit! Sniff my feet while you wank your LITTLE PUD. Get a good sniff, you little puke, you'll be doing this you're whole life!"

Bills whole body stiffened, and he shot a huge load of stuff all over his hand. He paused the tape while he cleaned himself.

It was so strange. There was no sign of any effect on Timmy during the week. Bill knew what it was like to be worked over like that. That was the reason he was like this, the imprint of those early experiences with Mrs. Johnson had left him a boyhood of shame, and an adult lifetime of seeking that excitement again. But Timmy seemed as happy as ever, giving Gabriella a big smile and a kiss as she left each day.

That was why he hesitated. Could he be imagining this?

"Tom, are you sure Gabriella is good with the kids?"

"Sure, Becky and Linda both love her." Tom sounded so reassuring on the phone. "Besides," he said, man-to-man, "with a body like that, I'd keep her around even if she wasn't that good. She is one fine piece of ass." He hesitated, "You had her yet?"

"No, you?" Bill was amazed.

"No, I wish, but she seems so cold. I can't stop hoping. Mmmmmm!"

"Was Timmy a good boy today, Gabriella?" Bill asked evenly, trying not to add any emphasis whatsoever to "good boy."

"Oh, that son of yours," Gabriella threw her backpack on and looked back at him as she was walking out the door. "He's really no trouble, very well behaved." Bill thought he caught a spark, something extra in the dark eyes as they looked back over her shoulder. "He's really sweet."

Bill watched her leave, and wondered. He watched the swing of her ass, the smooth shape of it rocking in her jeans, the way the ringlets of her jet black hair shook slightly as her body moved. And the feet! Barefoot beneath her jeans, she was wearing sandals today. Bill caught a glimpse the dark purple nail polish before she turned away. Her insteps and toes were the color of beach sand.

"Bye now!" She looked back quickly over her shoulder at him, and winked. She knew he was watching her, and the light in her eyes and the curl of her lips said she liked it.

Bill thought about her all through dinner. Timmy was quiet, pensive, and Bill wondered what had happened today. He'd watch the tape once Timmy was asleep. Bill couldn't get that look she had out of his mind, the way her knowing eyes looked through him at that last goodbye. He was sure she knew all about him, knew he was just like Timmy inside, hanging on every inflection of her voice, loving the sound of her laughing at him. Bill was hard as a rock.

"Timmy, I think we're going to stop using Gabriella." Bill surprised himself by saying this, shocked that the decent father within him spoke up.

"C'mon Dad!!" Timmy's blue eyes brightened. He was pleading. "C'mon, I like her, we get along great! Why?"

Bill knew what was going on inside his little boy, he knew that Gabriella had captured the boy's soul. It would be just like Mrs. Johnson was with him. He'd spend the rest of his life thinking about her, trying to recapture the thrill of having a woman speak to him with that amused contempt, the inner tingle at the sight of a strong woman glaring down at him with pitiless eyes. So many times Bill thought he found the woman, only to suffer disappointment when she just didn't get it. He hated all those times he risked showing a part of himself to a woman, gave the woman an opening, practically begged her for some abuse, only to have her stare back at him, blankly, puzzled at what was going on. Bill would give anything for one afternoon with Mrs. Johnson, any woman who loved the thrill of climbing on top.

Of, course, Bill thought. That's why Timmy doesn't show any effect. Bill realized that his inner pain only started after Mrs. Johnson left. Anyone who saw him before then would see only a happy boy, because the presence of the woman in his life completely enthralled him. It was only afterward, when he realized that he'd never know anything like those feelings again, and that those feelings could never be openly shared with anyone, that he grew unhappy and morose.

"C'mon Dad, pleeeasee?"

Bill knew what the right thing to do was. The boy's soul was already marked, and there was no good reason to deny him Gabriella. Let the boy have his fill of her, because a woman like that is so hard find again.

"Ok, son, I guess if you like her that much..."

That second week, Bill checked the tapes every night. He wasn't about to wait until the end of the week. Each night, after Timmy was asleep, Bill got ready. He took the tape out of the machine, and placed it in the VCR. He got himself a beer and a box of tissues, and settled back in his recliner with the remote, fast forwarding, looking for action. He stopped when he saw Timmy.

Timmy was standing right up against the camera, probably looking for the remote or a tape to watch on top of the wall unit where the camera was located. He could hear Timmy looking for something, moving things around. Bill heard the VCR mechanism; Timmy was going to watch a tape. Timmy sat back on the couch with the remote. This is weird, Bill thought. Here I am watching Timmy, and it looks like he's watching me. Bill was also puzzled, since there was no sign of Gabriella.

Timmy was fast forwarding, like he was looking for something. He pressed play. At first all Bill could hear was cheap music, then silence. Movement he couldn't quite decipher, and low voices. A man's voice, and a woman's. The man would ask a question, and the woman would answer, usually with a giggle. It was like an interview.

Timmy hit the fast forward, running the tape for a minute or so, then played it at normal speed. Bill could hear the man's voice again. "Ohhhhh yeah, baby, suck that cock." Timmy was watching an X-rated movie. Where did that come from? Bill kept his collection locked. Bill watched the boy slide his pants down and start to rub himself.

Bill realized why Gabriella was gone. She set a trap for the boy, leaving a tape around, and going out knowing the boy would find it. The situation got Bill hard too, the sight of his boy there, pulling his meat watching a blow job on the big TV, not realizing what was in store for him. But Bill knew, he knew the scene, and how the game was played. Gabriella would appear at any moment, and Timmy would have to answer for what he was doing. Bill started to stroke himself in anticipation, leaning back in the recliner, looking across his cock at his son.

Bill thought of speeding ahead, to see if indeed Gabriella would spring out at the boy. But he didn't want to, not just yet. The sight of his son there was just so sweet, the way the boy looked with longing at the screen, delaying his gratification just like Bill was, loving the deep hypnotic sight of sex on the screen.

"You're at it again, you little fucker!" Bill jumped when he heard Gabriella's voice, as if she was his tormentor, not his son's Timmy was desperately trying to cover himself, both hands working to close his pants over his pecker. Gabriella glared at the screen: "Fuck, look at this shit you're watching. You little shitbag, you get off thinking woman will put that SORRY ASS THING in their mouth!" She stood over him in her high heels. "Stand up!"

Timmy tried to pull his pants up as he stood, but she said: "No, you like having that THING out so much, leave it out! Don't you move a FUCKING INCH!"

Bill could hear her heels on the floor, walking away towards the kitchen. Timmy just stood there in front of the, his pants around his knees. Despite his surprise, he was still fully erect, Bill knew where his mind was at with Gabriella; He was beyond shame and embarrassment. The boy was still looking at the TV, staring wide-eyed at the blow job, as if he knew his role in the drama.

Gabriella's footsteps grew louder, and before she was back her mouth started; "Didn't you hear what I said, you SICK LITTLE ASSHOLE! Why are you still watching that shit! Turn it off!" Timmy moved as quickly as he could towards the TV, almost waddling because his pants were still down. He turned it off.

She stood before him. Again, her face was off the top of the screen. Timmy wasn't looking up at her, he just stared at what she was holding. The same pair of yellow playtex gloves.

"Listen, you little PUKE: What do you think I have these for?"

"I-I-I don't know." Bill could hardly hear the boy.

"I don't know WHAT?"

"I don't know, Mommy." Bill could see that Timmy was looking at the gloves, and he could also see that the boy was still hard.

"We'll sometimes Mommy uses these if she has to touch something gross, something DIRTY. Do you know why I brought them here?"

Timmy just looked at up her, looked with his mouth open.

"Answer me, you little SHIT!"

Bill could see Timmy's lips moving, he saw the imploring way he looked at her, and without actually hearing the words he knew what his son said.

"That's not how we say it, though, TIMMY. We have a name for that USELESS LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT! Use it!" Her hands clenched and tightened around the playtex gloves. Bill noticed Gabriella's breasts. They were heaving with passion, the nipples moving in front of Timmy's face.

"Mommy ... might ... touch my ... my ... winkie." Timmy sounded relieved to get the words out, he was looking again at her hands stretching the gloves. Perhaps hoping...

"Timmy, look at these gloves, see how rubbery they are..." she was stretching them between her hands. "... See I can pull way, way back, they're like rubber bands! Look at me Timmy"

Timmy did as he was told, tearing his eyes away from the gloves, looking up at her. Bill could see Gabriella stretch the gloves as far as they would go, Gabriella's biceps were hard with tension, shaking, ready to let the gloves fly. The gloves were pointed right at Timmy's cock. It wasn't hard anymore.

"Timmy, look at my eyes. Let's play a game. Lets see how well you know Mommy." Her voice was honey sweet, sounding so lovely, so soft, so loving. "Ever get smacked with a rubber band? LOOK AT ME! Imagine what a hard rubber band snapping in a SENSITIVE PART OF YOUR BODY would feel like?" Timmy continued to look up, knowing exactly what she meant, but afraid to look down from those eyes. "See if you know Mommy. Do you think, TIMMY, that Mommy might be angry if her little boy has DIRTY THOUGHTS about WOMEN?"

"Y-y-y-yes Mommy"

"Bingo!" she said, as she let the gloves snap. Timmy went down like he was hit with a stun gun, he was doubled over in pain, holding his wounded nuts, fighting back the tears.

Gabriella started pacing, walking around him like a dead carcass, whistling softly to herself while she gave the boy a moment to recover. She wasn't done yet.

When Timmy straightened up he was facing the camera. His face was covered with hot tears, and his hands were still holding his balls. Gabriella stopped walking, and came up behind him, placing her hands gently on her shoulder.

"Silly boy," she whispered in his ear, "you'd rather Mommy was nice to you right?"

"Y-y-yes, Mommy," still sniveling.

"You know, sweetie, there's a way you can always have the nice Mommy." Her hands moved from his shoulders, down his sides, and slowly, softly moved to Timmy's belly. She started tracing gentle little circles around his bellybutton with the tips of her long nails. Slowly widening circles.

"Do you know what surrender means, Timmy?" Her hand stopped, waiting for his response.

Timmy didn't know what to say. He watched her still hand on his belly.

"You're little PUD knows what surrender means, baby. See, it responds to me." Sure enough, even keeping her hand still, her words started the excitement in the boy again. "Cocks are such funny things; Do you have any idea how FUCKED UP that little THING looks?" Timmy's cock was becoming aroused. "Let me tell you Timmy, if you ever showed that THING to any other girl, why she'd just GIGGLE!" Timmy's cock was still coming alive, the mockery only hastening its reappearance. "Look, you little shitheel, you little SISSY ASS TWINK, look how that THING of your likes this shit!" Timmy looked down on it like it belonged to someone else - it was hard as a rock now.

Bill stopped the tape. This was too much; He needed to take a moment. He thought about Mrs. Johnson. The sounds Gabriella made in her throat when she said those cruel things brought it all flooding back to Bill. Mrs. Johnson in her corset, watching tiny Billy rubbing himself, giggling at him while he tried to bring himself off. Oh, Bill loved that feeling, all his life he searched for someone like Mrs. Johnson, he listened carefully to every woman's voice, and watched their eyes whenever he saw one get angry. Looking, always looking for that fire. And now he found her!

He pressed play. Gabriella and Timmy resumed their drama.

"You know what a SISSY is, don't you, TIMMY?" Gabriella took her hand from his belly, and moved it behind Timmy. Bill knew she was scratching the boy's ass.

"Y-y-y-es ..... Mommy." Timmy sounded like he was dreaming.

"I'll bet you've been called that, haven't you." Gabriella was speaking so softly, her wet lips drawing out every word. "Lots of times, I bet. Right, my little SISSY?"

"Y-y-y-es, boys call me that." Timmy closed his eyes, you could see the boy was going down where he'd never been before. Speaking secrets out loud, secret feelings that made his little cock hard.

"I'll bet they're real boys too, big strong boys, tough boys with REAL BIG, THICK COCKS. What's that like, TIMMY, when those boys call you that?"

"I-i-i-t feels .... funny?"

"FUNNY? think this is FUNNY you little shit?. Want me to get those gloves again?" The same deep anger, the slow burn, deep guttural sound that made Bill cock jump.

"I-I-I mean, it feels .... g-good?"

"Yeah, you got that right, you sick little FAIRY. C'mon, you little QUEER, come with me!"

BILL heard her steps on the floor as she walked away. Timmy followed. Bill could tell by the footfalls that they were going upstairs. The sounds dropped away. The tape was silent and motionless. Bill pressed fast forward.

When Bill saw Gabriella come back into view he resumed normal tape speed. Timmy wasn't there. Gabriella sat on the couch and picked up the remote herself; She was watching the tape again, the same tape Timmy started watching to set the whole scene off. Bill could hear the man's voice from the tape: "Yeah baby, suck my big cock. Get it all the way down your throat."

Gabriella paused the tape and called out, "C'mon down, SISSY-POO!"

When Timmy appeared, Bill's heart leaped. Timmy was dressed like a little girl. Gabriella had braided his long blond hair into two pigtails, each with a pink bow on the end. He was wearing a bright yellow jumper with a pattern of red hearts all over it. It clung tightly to the boy's body. The shape of it against Timmy's still childish form sent strange shivers through Bill. He was riveted by what he was seeing.

"Sit down, Timmy, lets watch this together." Gabriella patted the seat next to her, saying this with a big smile. "Just us girls!" She resumed the tape. "Oh, I don't really blame you for what you did before, there's nothing like watching a slow blow job!"

Timmy sat down where he was told. Timmy's eyes settled on the screen, getting into the scene before him.

"Look at the size of that dick, TIMMY? Can't you just taste that BIG THING? Go ahead, sweetie, rub yourself if you want, it's ok!"

Timmy needed no encouragement. He slid the bottom of his dress under him, exposing his silk panties. He leaned back into the couch and exposed himself, pulling his stiff little member free.

"Take a good close look, TIMMY. Look at the way her lips are all stretched out, like she can't breathe!"

Timmy was rubbing himself slowly, his eyes lost in the scene before him.

"Don't you just love the way his hands are GRABBING HER HAIR while he pushes down her throat!"

"Ohh." A small sound escaped involuntarily from the boy's mouth. He liked what he saw.

"Bet he reminds you of those big boys at school! Oh, don't you just love TOUGH BOYS, boys with REAL BIG BALLS"

Timmy was drawing breath through his teeth in quick whistles, working himself, teasing his small little body feverishly. His pigtails started to dance as his movements accelerated.

"Aren't blow jobs great! Don't this just make you feel all dizzy inside, you SISSY LITTLE SHITBALL!"

Bill could see his son's excitement crest. The sight of the action on the screen, the feel of his little girl outfit, and the words cutting deep channels in his feelings were sending the boy into orbit.

"Yeah, get ready, here comes the money shot. Go faster, you SICK LITTLE TURD, or you'll miss it! He's going to shoot his STUFF down her throat. Look, I think she wants to pull away. She doesn't want him to cum in her mouth. There, watch her eyes, she's struggling to pull away, but he's grabbing her hair. HE'S NOT LETTING HER OFF HIM!"

Timmy started to cum: "Ohhhhhhh, Fuck!" his little boy said as he wanked himself to his dry climax.

The silence hung for a moment.

"That was fucking AWESOME, wasn't it, TIMMY?" She let out a long, deep sigh. She started to grin, slyly. "Now watch, you CANDY ASSED LITTLE FUCK BOY! Watch real closely." She pointed at the tape. "See, that was a GUY!" Timmy's mouth dropped open. "That was a guy GIVING HEAD, dressed in woman's clothes." Gabriella started laughing as she got up from the couch. "Some pretty QUEER BOY just like you!"

Timmy just sat there on the couch, staring at the blank screen, hearing Gabriella's laughter echo through the house.

Bill took a tissue from the box and dried himself. He felt dizzy, spent, as if his guts had been pulled apart during a deep sleep, and rearranged into someone else. That was the last tape, he knew. There would be no more tapes.

When Gabriella arrived on Wednesday afternoon, Bill was waiting for her; He had taken the afternoon off.

"Timmy won't be here today, Gabriella."

The sweet demon took it in stride, she walked in and sat down on the kitchen chair. She stretched her arms back behind her neck, Bill could see her shapely breasts through the thin white material of her shirt. "So I won't be babysitting, today, won't I?" Her dark eyes looked right through Bill, like fiery needles. "You guys are all the same, this is soooooo predictable." Her voice took on an angry tone, Bill recognized the sound of it from the tapes: it was the start of a slow burn. "This happens all the time, I watch the kids for a few weeks while their daddy sneaks his little peaks at me." Her hands clenched in a fist, Bills could feel his blood surge within him. "Then one day, what do you know, something comes UP..." and she looked down at his crotch. She saw what she needed to, she knew just what she was dealing with. This would be easy. "...The little BRAT isn't here. Just Daddy, who thinks he's going to get his jollies off!"

Bill fought to get the words he rehearsed out: "I-I-I kn-n-now what you and Timmy have been doing." He couldn't look away from those eyes.

Gabriella got comfortable in the chair. She leaned back and crossed her legs, holding her top leg far out in front, the way he saw so many times from the tapes. Bill's eyes accepted the invitation, they drank in the sight of Gabriella's foot. She was bare today, no stockings. She was wearing heels, of course, open toed ones that showed off today's color: neon pink. "I think Daddykins is a little jealous," she said, seductively.

Bill couldn't answer, he felt his breath caught in his throat, he just continued to look at her foot, so tempting, the way she held it there.

"What's the matter, little Billy can't talk? Answer me, shithead! You like what I do with that little FAGGOT of yours?"

Bill couldn't answer. He did what he had to do. He knelt down and took her foot, held the sides of her shoe gently between his hands, like it was made of the thinnest, most fragile gold. He brought it to his mouth, and planted a devoted kiss on her big toe, inhaling the scent of her. He looked up at her. He was hers now.

"Christ, what a SICK PEICE OF SHIT you are!"

Her words, the hiss of her cruel voice fell on him like a shower from heaven, awakening rivers of long held desire. His blood rushed to his throbbing cock.

"How did you ever get a son, why would any woman let you fuck her? Who the FUCK would allow a DORK like YOU to put your THING in her. I bet it's tiny, like the STUPID LITTLE WILLY your son has!"

The last words carried him over the edge - he shot his load into his underpants. She noticed; Gabriella saw everything.

She pulled her foot away, and stood up, turning her back on him. She opened the waist button on her jeans and wiggled her ass as she shook her pants down her legs. Bill looked at her ass, the lovely tanned crescents, the tuck of her soft lace panties within the curvy cheeks. Gabriella backed into him. "Hop to it, SHITBOY, you know what to do."

And he did know. Bill leaned closer, and with shaking hands he slowly lifted her lace panties out from the crack, and pulled them gently down her thighs, leaving all of her ass exposed, awaiting him. He looked closely at her down there, choosing his spot carefully. He took his time, Gabriella waited patiently; This was a profane dance, not to be rushed. Bill knew where he should go, he brought his mouth to the place where her cheeks seemed the deepest. He stuck his tongue out, and started drawing the tip of it upward along her crack, pulling it within her like a plow into damp earth. Bill looked up across the valley of her back and searched for her eyes within the black thicket of her hair. There, he found her, she was peering down at him. He took a deep breath; Starting at the bottom again he gave an extra deep lick, and watched her eyes flare brightly amid the darkness of her hair.

Mommy was very pleased.


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I'm wondering if there should be a part 2?
I'd love to here from you, no matter what you thought
of my story. Comments and story ideas are welcome at:
Pervitron@Hotmail.com
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