Balling the Babysitter

Balling The Babysitter

by Robert Lubrican

Censored Edition

Copyright 2010 Robert Lubrican

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Rights to use cover art purchased from iStock.com

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Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One - Surrogate Mommy

Chapter Two – Heather learns about games

Chapter Three – A game called horseshoes

Chapter Four – Horseshoes and hand grenades

Chapter Five – Practice makes perfect

Chapter Six – Practice also makes babies

Afterword

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Prologue

 

To the casual observer, she was just like any other young woman in America. Standing just over five feet ten inches, she had a typical hourglass figure. Her posture was flawless, and her gaze direct. Her smile looked genuine. She was pretty in that way that makes men take a second look, even if it's just for fun.

Below her exterior, however, she was a very unusual young woman. She could speak four languages fluently, and had one of the best educations available on the planet.

Well, at least as far as academics went. She had attended the Kruger Institute, in Norway, since she was ten. She had flown home twice a year, for Christmas and her birthday. Otherwise her year-round classes had taken up all her time. She understood politics, finance, history and all the sciences. The Kruger Institute had provided her with an academic education that was second to none. But in things social, they did nothing, other than to teach manners and etiquette.

This was, unknown to her, by design. The parents who used the Kruger Institute were of like mind, members of an obscure group of individuals who believed that pure academics could create and develop exceptional intelligence and capability in a child. Such children could be raised to take the reins of politics and industry, molding the world into what these people thought it should be. Think Spock, and you have some idea of what these people thought their children should become.

As with any educational system, however, there is always some amount of "unauthorized information" available to the students. In her case, it was things she learned about from other girls, who went home more often, and were less severely restricted than she was. All she knew about men, for instance, she learned from her peers. There was no mixing of any kind between males and females at the Kruger Institute. All her instructors were female, and only girls were in her classes. The Kruger institute severely restricted internet access, and even when it was allowed, there was constant surveillance by proctors. Even so, reading a research paper or other academic publication could reveal much about the world that her parents might not want her to know about.

And, as is usual with many young people, it was her informal education that brought about the most catastrophic changes in her life. One of her friends was applying to Stanford and, without consulting anyone, she did too. She had been impressed by publications that came from that university, and her friend was going there ... so why not? She had plenty of time to explore the world. She knew her social education had been lacking. But there was nothing she could do about it.

As evidence, she remembered the time, when she went home for her sixteenth birthday. She had approached her mother and said "I'd like to discuss sex, please." Her mother's reaction had been so volatile she had actually felt fear. Within ten minutes, her father was taking her to the airport, sending her back to Norway, and to what she now knew was the prison she was sentenced to. Sex, of course, was not discussed in any capacity at the institute.

Over the next year she gleaned snippets of information about the world from various sources. Her negotiations with Stanford went well, no doubt because students of the institute were highly sought after by all colleges and universities.

Graduation, by happenstance, occurred two days before her eighteenth birthday. Her parents threw her a party instead of coming to Norway. Important people were invited. Just prior to the party, their wishes were explained. Young men would be there. She was to be polite, but not encouraging, whatever that meant. Her parents had secured a seat at Harvard for her. They calmly informed her that, perhaps when she had earned her master's degree, they would select a man for her to marry. Everything would be taken care of. They would make all the decisions, just as they had for the first eighteen years of her life.

But she had other plans.

"I applied to Stanford and was accepted there," she said.

"Nonsense!" thundered her father. "I'll not have it! You'll do as I instruct you!"

"I'm eighteen now," she pointed out.

"Not another word!" shouted her father. "Go to your room. Prepare for the party. You'll be called when it's time to make your appearance."

She went to her room. Then, for the first time in her life, she did something thrilling and exciting. She climbed out of her window. All she took was her purse, which contained several hundred dollars in cash and a credit card.

She flagged down a cab and had it take her to the bus station, where she bought a ticket to California. She had a full scholarship, including room and board waiting for her.

And the rest of her education, of course.

And we're not talking academics here.

 

 

Chapter One - Surrogate Mommy

 

Heather hummed as she put things in her book bag to take with her. She looked at the common, ordinary backpack and grinned. Just owning a book bag was part of her new and exciting life. She knew that thousands - probably millions - of other students owned book bags, but she never had, until now. She felt a wave of uncertainty pass through her and she shuddered. Was she crazy for thwarting her parents' plans for her life?

She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. That bridge was burned now. Classes had started, and they were ridiculously easy. The work study office had found her a job as a research assistant for a professor at the university. That would help with incidental expenses. Things were expensive in California, though her needs were few. Her father had canceled the card she’d brought with her, of course, but credit card companies had fallen all over themselves to offer her accounts, and she had chosen one, based on its economic and stock performance. That let her replace the clothing she'd left back at home and which, she now suspected, had been tossed in the rubbish bin.

Working for Professor Tracey had been exquisite thus far. She'd had so little experience with men, even simple conversations were fascinating to her. He made her nervous in some undefined way. He was handsome, for one thing, tall and slim, with long slim fingers you'd expect to see on a piano player. His hair was brown, and wavy without being curly. He wore it long in a sort of retro-seventies look, and he had a walrus moustache. But perhaps what made her most unsettled was the way he seemed to be so interested in her life. He had somehow managed to get her to tell him all about her life at the institute, and what little there was to say about home. She felt more at home in her dorm room than she had ever felt at her parents' house. He smiled at her, and told her jokes, and paid more attention to her than any other single human being had in her short life. He fascinated her.

And then, when he found out she'd been disinherited by her family, and was in financial straits, he suggested that he and his wife needed some time to themselves, but had never found a babysitter they could really trust. His offer to let her fill that role was eagerly accepted, even though she knew very little about the care of children.

Now she was preparing to go and actually be a babysitter. She didn't know exactly what to take, since this was her first time. She was so excited she couldn't sit still because, after tonight, she could honestly say she was a babysitter.

She had no idea what to expect. For the first time she'd be in a house she'd never seen before. True, she knew the man who owned the house. Well, to be honest she didn't really know him. She knew him better than any other male she'd met, but that wasn't saying much.

That part of her education had bounded ahead. Arriving at school a week early, the dean arranged for her to move into her dorm room, once he found out her circumstances. Her credit card got her a laptop, and the dorm had wi-fi. Heather discovered all sorts of things, including a most disturbing, and yet fascinating place where people wrote stories about the sexual things her mother had refused to talk about with her. Then there were the movies, with their kissing, and social interplay, all of which was like looking into an alien world for Heather. And there was the porn, of course. That left her gasping and weak.

Which was another part of her unsettled relationship with Professor Tracey.

It was that smile of his ... her eyes went unfocused as she called up a memory of his smiling face in her mind. She shivered. His smile was so beautiful that she wanted to kiss him when he did it.

And that's what made her nervous. She thought about doing things with Professor Tracey that she instinctively knew college freshmen weren't supposed to do with professors. Especially not professors they worked for.

She thought about that as she rode her new bike to his house. She looked at the place curiously as she walked up the winding path to the front door. There were trees and flowers everywhere, and once she was twenty feet up the walk she couldn't see the street any more. It was getting dark, but there were little lights along the walk, low down to the ground that lit her path. She pushed the button by the front door and waited.

A woman opened the door. Heather almost sighed. Of course Mr. Tracey would have a beautiful wife. But this woman was gorgeous! She had on a slinky black dress that showed her chest clear down between the swells of her breasts. The dress sparkled somehow. Perfect makeup and diamond studs in her ears, along with a halo of black hair done up with something in it that sparkled too, all set off her pale, almost ghostly white skin. The woman smiled and her even whiter teeth almost glowed between bright red lips.

"You must be Heather!" said the woman Heather wanted to look just like. "I'm Valerie, Buck's wife." Her eyes slid down Heather's body and then back up in a way that made Heather want to squirm. Heather, in her innermost female mind, realized she was being sized up, even though Heather in her conscious mind didn't know it at all. She stood up a little straighter and offered her hand, properly angled. The woman stared at it and then grasped it and gave it two shakes.

Buck. That was his first name. Heather had never even thought about what her boss' first name would be. She'd been taught to use the appropriate honorific, and last name. Always.

"I'm so pleased to meet you," she said, and went into her planned speech. "I'm so glad you trusted me with your baby, Mrs. Tracey. I won't let you down. I'll take care of him as if he were my own." As she said it the female deep inside her scanned Valerie Tracey's body too. It was slim, with narrow hips. She looked almost top heavy with large breasts. There was a lot of cleavage showing. When Heather had gone to Walmart to buy clothes, and she walked into the ladies underwear section, she'd stood there in shock for at least five minutes. She couldn't believe how many different kinds, patterns and colors of underthings there were. All she had ever owned were sturdy white cotton bras and panties. She had spent over two hours in that department, until an employee named Crystal had come to personally help her make her selections. It was hard to tell what kind of bra Mrs. Tracey had on, but her breasts didn't look like they needed that much support, big as they were. One of the things Crystal had bemusingly told her about was something called the pencil test. Heather had passed it, meaning the pencil had dropped to the floor. Mrs. Tracey looked like she could pass the pencil test too. Heather had assumed that any woman who'd had a baby four months ago would have saggy skin, including her breasts, but this one didn't. Heather felt very ordinary next to this woman, and it made her feel jumpy.

Mrs. Tracey smiled again. "I'm sure you will. If Buck trusts you, I trust you. And I don't think Teddy will be much trouble. Once you get him fed and put him down he'll sleep at least until I get home. He likes a midnight snack."

Maybe it was the look on Heather's face, or maybe Valerie just thought she should know, but as she led Heather into the house she went on. "I'm breast feeding, you know. I have several bottles in the fridge that I expressed over the last few days. All you have to do is warm one up in a pan of water. He's a greedy little bugger, and he should take it all. If he takes a whole bottle and still wants to suck just give him the pacifier."

By now they were in the kitchen. Mrs. Tracey reached for a round white cone-shaped thing on the counter. As she turned around she pulled her dress away from her right breast and slid the pad into her dress. "I just hope these things keep me from leaking all over my dress." She was talking now like she and Heather were the best of friends. "Buck's such a baby. We haven't been out since Teddy was born. He insisted I wear this dress and I know he's going to try to get me drunk. He's the one who wanted me to build up a supply of milk so I could have a drink while we're out tonight. Men! Aren't they all just ... predictable sometimes?" Heather shrugged. She had very little idea how men were, predictable or not.

While she chatted on she put another cone shaped pad between her dress and her left nipple, then smoothed the cloth over both breasts and stood with her arms at her sides. "How do they look?"

Heather was surprised this beautiful woman would ask a mere college girl how she looked. Heather was quite aware that her own nipples got hard sometimes. It was a bother, because they were very sensitive when that happened. If she was wearing her pajamas, nipples like that poked through them. She noticed that there must be something on the pads that simulated nipples, because it looked for all the world like Mrs. Tracey's nipples were poking through the cloth of her dress. Her recent internet exploration had taught her that men thought that was sexy.

"It looks ... sexy" said Heather softly.

"Good!" said Valerie. "Believe it or not I got them at Christy's Toy Box, down on Thurston street, you know?"

Heather shook her head.

Valerie tilted her head at the young woman. "Buck said you were ... um ... shall we say innocent?" She grinned. "Of course you don't know. A girl as sweet and innocent as you would never know what's in that place. What was I thinking?" She smiled again. "Anyway, I hope they look good, because I'm planning on getting some lovin' tonight and I need all the help I can get."

Heather was horrified.

"But you're the most beautiful woman I think I've ever seen!" she blurted. She blushed bright red, embarrassed that she had said something so personal to a stranger.

Valerie looked up from examining her breasts and this time her eyes smiled too. "Why thank you, Heather. That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time. When you have a baby you worry that people will think you're ugly and all used up." She looked down and twisted, trying to see her hips.

Heather felt more relaxed now and, on impulse, she said, "I hope I look just half as used up as you do when I turn twenty-one some day."

Valerie's eyes snapped back to Heather's face.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, dear," she said, her voice dry. "I believe you are what most men would describe as 'a walking wet dream', at least if they're like my husband. I bet your boyfriend can't keep his hands off you."

Heather was flabbergasted. No one had ever told her she was good looking, much less that men might be interested in her sexually. She felt a thrill shoot through her. "I don't have a boyfriend. I went to an all girl school. I haven't even been on a date yet!"

The woman appraised her again. "Well, that will change very soon, dear. When the boys see you, they'll all start hooting at the moon and begging you to grace them with your attention." She frowned and spoke again. "Then again, you might be better off like you are. At least you don't have to fight them off all the time." She looked at her watch. "Listen to me, prattling on about things when I should be yelling at my husband for being late. Come on. I'll introduce you to our pride and joy."

Valerie led the way to a brightly decorated room with a crib in it. In that crib was a beautiful baby boy who smiled when he saw his mother and actually wiggled! "There's my big boy" said Mrs. Tracey in that voice adults always use to talk to babies. She picked him up and he fussed. "Now Teddy, it's not time for that. You'd mess up my dress for sure.

Heather looked at Valerie curiously and Valerie smiled. "Sometimes he gets a little cranky when he wants the breast and I won't give it to him. He's spoiled." She grinned and leaned toward Heather, whispering. "He's a man, and they all want the breast all the time."

Heather might have been shocked, but as Valerie leaned toward her, Teddy smiled and reached out for Heather. He gurgled and cooed as the babysitter took him and hugged him to her. Valerie waved and snuck out of the room while the baby wasn't watching, leaving Heather with the cute, wriggling little boy.

******

Things went fine for most of the night. Heather played with Teddy and he took a bottle, though he didn't seem to like it very much. Out of curiosity, Heather wanted to taste the milk. But she couldn't bring herself to do that. But she knew it was the same milk Teddy drank every single day, so she couldn't understand why Teddy kept spitting out the nipple on the bottle and turning his head. Finally she put the bottle back in the fridge and held him while she watched some TV. He had fun standing up and sitting down on her lap while she held his hands and helped him.

By nine she was tired, and she thought Teddy should have gone to sleep already, but he hadn't. He got cranky and cried. Thinking he was hungry, she got out the bottle again and warmed it up. But he still wouldn't take it for more than a half a minute before he spat it out, wiggled and started crying again.

She tried burping him, rocking him, walking with him, playing with him, everything she could think of, and while some of these things distracted him for a while, he always went back to crying.

She was holding him in her arms when an interesting thing happened. His face was against her chest and suddenly he tried to get the tip of her T-shirt-covered breast in his mouth. When he couldn't he started crying again.

Heather remembered when Valerie had left that Teddy had wanted to feed then, and that Valerie had said it wasn't time. Maybe he wanted skin in his mouth. That's what he was used to.

A crazy idea came to her. Without thinking about it, Heather looked around, to see if anybody was watching her. Of course they weren't.

Then she put Teddy down and pulled her shirt over her head. Now clad only in her functional white bra, she looked around again. Reaching behind her she unsnapped her bra and let it fall off.

"This is silly," she said to herself. But when she picked Teddy up and cradled him in her arms, his mouth immediately sought out her right nipple and, when he found it, he latched on hard! His powerful little mouth sucked her in and his gums nibbled. Heather felt weak in the knees and sat down on the arm of the couch. She reached for the bottle and pushed it against the corner of his mouth, breaking the seal he had on her skin. He sucked lustily at the bottle for a few sucks, swallowed and then spit the rubber nipple out. She immediately replaced it with her own and he happily sucked on her warm nipple.

Heather couldn't believe the feelings this caused in her. Her nipple tingled in a most delicious way and that made her feel warm and itchy between her legs. Every so often she slipped the nipple from the bottle into his mouth, so he actually got some milk. Eventually he got full, but his little hands kept pushing at her breast, and his little mouth kept sucking. She changed him to her other nipple and sat, feeling warm and tingly as he slowly fell asleep in her arms.

Finally she was able to put him in his crib, where he slept happily on. Heather went back to the living room and got her bra. Her nipples felt full and tender. The idea of confining them in the bra was unappealing, so she shoved it in her backpack. She put her shirt back on and lay back watching TV until she too drifted off into sleep. Heather was startled awake by Teddy's crying and looked at her watch. It was almost one in the morning. She went to check on him and found he needed his diaper changed. Once that was done she cradled him in her arms again, rocking him back to sleep. He pawed at her breast, so she pulled her shirt up and let him suck at her nipple some more. He wasn't really hungry, he just wanted the soothing sensation of warm skin in his mouth. Her shirt kept pushing down onto his face, so she pulled it off again and stood, clad only in jeans while Teddy created butterflies in her belly ... below her belly, actually. She sat down in a rocking chair with Teddy and talked to him quietly as he sucked.

It was right then that Mr. Tracey walked through the nursery door.

"There you are" he said in a loud whisper, before his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room and he realized his babysitter was sitting topless in the chair, and that his son was sucking at her breast.

Heather took in a horrified gasp of air and then, from the hallway, came loud female singing. It was sung by someone who had obviously had too much to drink and was feeling no pain of any sort. Heather started to stand up but her boss waved at her.

"I'll divert her. You get dressed and then come help me get her in bed." He disappeared back through the door and Heather put Teddy down in his crib, patting his bottom until he settled down and went still.

Shaking, she grabbed her T shirt and pulled it back on. She thought about just leaving. She was too ashamed to face Professor Tracey. But he'd said he needed help with Mrs. Tracey, and she needed to plead with him not to tell his wife what he'd seen, so she went.

When she got to the bedroom Professor Tracey was pulling Valerie's dress up over her head. Valerie was still singing. It was a song about a girl named Brandy, who was waiting for some sailor to come back to her and all the other men were telling her how fine she was. Heather gasped as Valerie's breasts came into view. The bra she had on strained to contain the big milk-filled orbs. Valerie's hand flashed to the front and the bra sprang apart like a broken rubber band.

"Ahhhhhh" sighed the drunken woman. "Tha feels show mush better." Her hands cupped her breasts and lifted them. "But honeeeeeey" she whined in a little girl voice, "They're sooooo full. Where's Teddeee? He'll help me."

She hadn't seen Heather yet, but when she started looking all around the room for her baby she saw the young woman staring.

"Oops" she giggled, trying to cover her nipples with her hands, but swaying so much she couldn't. "Well look who's here" she giggled. Then she frowned. "Ooooo owww, Buck, my boobies hurt Honey."