by
Sarah J.
Story Codes: gf/f, gdom, ped, nc, bd, sad
Warning:
The narrative deals with underage persons.
If you
find this offensive, then please don’t read it.
The following
story is a purely fictional account. Any relationship to any real person living
or dead is absolutely coincidental. The
narrative deals with underage persons and the author in no way condones or
promotes such acts, but realizes the special place literature holds in the
harmless enjoyment of fantasy, which is recognized under laws of free speech.
All subjects can, and should be, freely explored with the written word, and it
is the author’s belief that, while the criminally deranged among us may get
also get enjoyment from works of fiction, but they are not created by
them. The criminally deranged were with us long before the Internet, or even
works of erotic fiction.
Summary: A babysitter buys off her bratty charge by providing
her with a teenage slave, who is mercilessly abused by the 10 year-old and her
friends. Unfortunately for the babysitter this just whets the girl’s appetite
and soon she is demanding more, and older, slaves for her sick games.
Part One: A Slut For A
Brat
Lauren was one of those
brats you hope you’ll never meet. The worse part was that, in a really annoying
way, she was probably right to act like she did. The kid was fucking blessed as
far as I could see, at ten years-old she was very pretty, long blonde hair
tumbling round her shoulders, flawless lightly tanned skin, beautiful green
eyes. Well, you would think that was enough to be going on with but no… little
miss Lauren was also very smart, good grades etc. as well as being very
street-smart, if you know what I mean; precocious as hell. Of course, in
addition to all that her mom was loaded, not just well off, but a
mega-rich-bitch basically – only she wasn’t a bitch, she was pretty cool
actually. Got the money after she dumped her loser husband who was a TV
producer or something, and Angela (that’s her name) and me we get on well,
though I’m mystified how she could produce a brat like Lauren, but she almost
seemed to go out of her way to encourage it.
I
met Angela after she donated some computer equipment to our High School, and
was invited to look round the girl’s IT lab - she just started talking to me.
‘So,
what’s your name?’ Angela said leaning across my desk.
‘Ashley
miss’ I replied, in my best, big, smiley way.
‘Nice
name,’ Angela said, ‘you’re… what… seventeen?’
‘Yes,’
I said, ‘just’.
Then
she asked me if I wanted to earn some money. Well duh! I wasn’t exactly doing
okay on the cash front with no dad and an alcoholic mom. Basically I was one of
those teenagers who either paid their own way or went without. So I nodded -
anyway, she looked like the generous type, and I figured I could do well out of
it.
The
job? That was babysitting for Miss Lauren (as she demanded to be called), and
there was the dilemma: the pay was good, but all the bratty princes
wanted was someone to push around, and if they were older then so much the
better, but I don’t get pushed around by anybody, let alone some little
ten-year-old bitch, no matter how rich her mom is.
The
solution presented itself quite unexpectedly. I was at a pretty heavy party and
there were a lot of drugs around, Debbie and me were laughing at some
fifteen-year-old loser that had crashed the party only to find herself stoned
and out of her depth. I had to work for Angela the next morning so I stayed off
anything but beer, and so I found myself wandering what looked like a
battlefield at one in the morning. Bodies were strewn about the place, most
unconscious – and those that were conscious (including Debbie), were
experiencing it in quite a different way to me. Time to go home. I cut out
through the side door through the garage, and there, in a crumpled heap, lay
the fifteen-year-old. Luckily for her all the guys had been too stoned to take
advantage of this illegal windfall, unluckily for her I wasn’t stoned and had
just had an interesting idea.
It
was obvious really. Miss Lauren wanted someone older to push around, but that
didn’t mean it had to be me. Maybe, I could just be the supplier, collect my
money and sit back while someone else got pushed around by the ten-year-old
bitch princess from hell – and I had just the someone else in mind, in
fact she was tightly tied and muffled with duct-tape in my closet.
So I sat Miss Lauren down and had a
heart-to-heart. Oh, I was very good. I told her how she was so
incredible, so pretty, so clever, and so much better than anyone else. Well,
she just sat there nodding as if I was just telling her what she already knew
(amazing isn’t it?). Then the master stroke – I told her that I just didn’t
think it was right that a goddess like her (she didn’t even flinch at that, but
she smiled) didn’t have her own personal slave, and as I was her best, best
ever friend, I was going to get her one. That did it. Her eyes opened wide, she
giggled, and then, she actually hugged me.
‘Oh Ashley, mommy was so clever getting you as my friend,
you so totally understand everything, are you really going to do that for me?’
she said.
‘Yeah, of course,’ I replied, ‘but I’m
going to need some money… you know, to get some stuff for your slave’.
‘What sort of stuff?’ the princess
enquired.
‘Well, it’s like pets I guess, you
need things for training them, and somewhere to keep it’
‘Like a leash,’ she grinned, ‘and a
stick in case it’s naughty’.
‘Yeah,’ I said, grinning at the
precocious little bitch, ‘just like that’.
‘Don’t worry Ashley,’ she said, ‘I
have lots of money, I got five thousand dollars just on my birthday and I have
loads more than that’.
‘Cool,’ I said, thinking that maybe I
wouldn’t have to wait till I was nineteen to get a car after all.
TO BE
CONTINUED…
Ó Sarah J.
2004
My fiction stories are at: /files/Authors/Young_Lesbian_Femdom
And you can email me on: [email protected] (you’re
gonna have to if you want to know more about me an persuade me to write more)
but put one of my story titles, or something relevant in the subject or I will
think it’s a virus an delete it. Thanks. Sarah x©x©