I, Babysitter - Part 26


by Sawyer

With the start of the new school year the life I had been so use to that summer had (what seemed to be) come to an abrupt halt. For not so obvious reasons, part of me was really not too thrilled to see that particular time in my life end. The idea of High School was actually scaring the hell out of me.

Since I was never the most popular or outgoing boy in Elementary School or Junior High School, there was no way I could guess that my fortunes might actually change once I entered 9th grade; besides, you hear so many horror stories about how Freshmen are abused by the older kids, I didn't really want to see if they were true, especially considering that (as I entered H. S.), my only real friend (Lee) was still at the top of my _s_h_i_t_ list.

Still - I couldn't afford not to have friends in this scary foreign territory.

I took a deep breath, and decided to try and make things right, knowing full well that a friendship with Lee is always on his conditions - I fully expected to be ignored once his "cooler" friends showed up, but that might be tomorrow, and this was today.

"Hey," I said that first day, when I saw him at his locker.

"Hey there," Lee said back. "Long time no see."

"Yeah. How's it going?"

"All right," he said, nodding his head. "How 'bout you?"

"All right."

"Cool."

"Yeah, cool." I looked around for a moment, then said, "Ok, I guess I'll see you."

"Hey, Matty," he said, as I turned away.

"Yeah?"

"Which lunch do you have?" he asked, shocking the hell out of me.

"The second one."

"Me too."

"Oh." Knowing him, I was expecting the other shoe to drop - he was never this nice to me when we were at school in Junior High!

"Want to eat with me? We could sit together."

"At lunch?"

"Yeah."

"Sure!"

"Cool. I'll see you there."

"Cool!"

Wow!

That was definitely a change for the better! At least it SEEMED to be...maybe he was Pod Lee? Or maybe I was dreaming? Or maybe he was dreaming? Or maybe I'm just a fictional character stuck in some pervert's computer? Or maybe I didn't hear him right? Or maybe he was going to ambush me at lunch with guilt about stealing the video game? Or maybe it would all wash away once he started becoming friends with other kids? Or, maybe (just maybe) this wouldn't be so bad after all?

UGH! I didn't know what to think about it - for the moment, I had a friend!!

Full disclosure time: I later found out that Lee was pretty much as lost as I was at the new school - of his four friends he had back at Junior High, one moved to Idaho, one got transferred to a different school district, another got held back, and the fourth was a year younger, so still an eighth grader!

"What are you doing the 24th?" I asked him later that week (Thursday) at lunch.

"September 24th?"

"Yeah, it's a Friday."

"No clue, why?"

"Want to spend the night?" I asked. "It's my birthday."

"Sure, " Lee said. "Just us?"

"I guess so," I shrugged.

"What about your friend, Gavin?"

"Oh, I don't know if he would want to come over," I said. Actually, I wasn't sure if I wanted him to spend the night on my birthday - after the way I tricked him into getting spanked by my Dad on his birthday, I was sure he would have payback on the brain.

"Why wouldn't he want to come over?" Lee asked. "Did you two have a lover's spat?"

"Ha-friggin-ha," I said, glaring at him. "It's just that Gavin has never spent the night at my house."

"No way!"

"Yeah, he's weird like that."

"Sounds like he's on the rag."

"Maybe," I chucked. "I think it has something to do with me."

"Why?"

"Even though he's been over at my place a billion times, he must be weirded out at the idea of staying over at an older kid's house."

Lee snorted a laugh when he heard that one. "Must be!" he said sarcastically. "It's all about YOU!"

"Can't think of any other reason."

"Oh well, Baldy," he laughed. "You just have that way about people, I guess!"

"Hey, you can't call me that any more!" I said, pointing at him, with a smile on my face.

"You got hair?"

"I got hair."

"Down there?"

"Down there."

"You got hair down there?"

"I got hair down there."

"Congratulations, my friend," he said, sticking his hand out to shake it. "You are now a member of the hair club for men!"

I laughed and shook his hand. "Are you the president or just a member?"

"Actually, my member was the president," he said, cracking himself up.

"Good one. Almost as good as your Czech joke."

"Ah, you loved it."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Anyway, back to you and your little boy friend..."

"He's not my..."

"Calm down, it was just a joke, sheesh!" Lee took a sip of his coke. "You get a little bush going on between your legs and you get all sensitive. Just like a woman."

"Lee!"

"It's just that I was sure you two were joined at the hip, or at least something more fun, the way you two spent so much time together."

"Only in your perverted imagination, dude."

"Ahh, but what a perverted imagination it is." He shot me a killer smile. "You should ask me some of the stuff I had you two doing in my fantasies!"

"That is quite enough!" I said, laughing from the shock. "There was nothing between us. Period. He was just some little kid I babysat last summer!"

"But you are still babysitting him, right?"

"Not as much, just after school and sometimes Saturday mornings."

For other, more obvious reasons (if you have bothered reading the first 25 parts - and SHAME on you if you haven't! It is simply the best thing that has ever been written by anyone ever! Well, since the Chuck Barris autobiography back in the 1980s) I was happy to see the summer of 1999 end. As much as I cared about Gavin (despite what I said to Lee), and as much as I adored getting paid for babysitting him, maybe it wasn't healthy for either of us being together almost 50 hours a week. I sure as hell knew it wasn't healthy for my ass!

In the 12 weeks that I had been babysitting him (June 21st through September 6th), I was spanked by 10 year old Gavin Spencer Weaver a total of 20 times.

Twenty times...!

Twenty friggin times...!

Twenty mother-friggin times...!

I was spanked 20 times by a child that was about three to four years younger than me!!!

From the time(s) I had to teach him how to spank me in Atlantic City (July 10th & 11th), to the bathtub when I had my first wet and sloppy orgasm (July 13th), to the day I cussed at him (July 21st), the time in the garage (July 27th), to that Saturday Dad was pissed because I scratched one of his CD's (August 1st), to that time on my back in the living room (August 6th), to the time he used two fly-swatters at once (August 10th), and I can't forget the broken vase incident (August 12th), or the time he spanked me right before I went to bed and then the next morning when I woke up (August 18th & 19th), and then there is that retched week before his birthday when I was spanked every day - sometimes multiple times (August 23rd - 27th), to the two times the day I babysat Eric (September 4th) and (lastly) on to Labor Day (September 6th), right after the telethon.

Yeee-OUCH!

My butt is hurting just thinking about those! Was that all? Was it really twenty? Mmmm... didn't want to look back anymore. Yeah, yeah, yeah - I know I didn't really talk about a whole bunch of those stories there in the first twenty-five parts (the month between July 21st and August 21st). Maybe I will one day, but the less I remember the happier I am. Trust me, you aren't missing much, but who knows...maybe one day, when I run out of other crap to talk about, and only if you have been very naughty, then maybe I'll feel like telling you about those too.

So, where was I...?

OH YEAH!

Like I said to Lee, with the new school year I was left babysitting Gavin right after school. I got home before he did, and I would wait for him for about fifteen minutes before his bus from the elementary school. showed up. Then, by the time we walked to the house, it was about 3:30 in the afternoon, and we would do homework until his Mom got home about 5pm. Not a whole lot of time for fun or spankings, even though Gavin was determined to find reasons to keep practicing his routine. Still, it was going to be a huge adjustment for all of us; especially with me, financially.

The fewer hours babysitting Gavin meant less money. I begged Dad to let me get a real job bussing tables at some place like T. G.I. Fridays, but he said that since I only had my learning permit, there wasn't a chance. He wasn't about to get into the habit of driving me there.

"Maybe by next summer," he suggested.

So, in the meantime, I (semi-reluctantly) accepted a regular Sunday babysitting gig watching another neighbor kid. A really cute boy named Vincent Taylor - one of Gavin's friends who was living with his grandparents. They were big into church, and I guess he wasn't. I knew that they use to have another neighbor watch Vince (the same girl that usually watched little Eric Blyton), but evidently there must have been some falling out because that first Friday of the school year Dad got the call from them shortly after he got home from work, and (before he botherd to ask me!) accepted on my behalf.

"It will only be for about three to four hours every Sunday morning, starting this week," Dad explained.

"This week?" I sniffled, looking up over my shoulder as he came into my room. He had caught me with this information at a pretty bad time. I wasn't really in a position to really protest.

"You said you wanted to work," Dad said, sitting down next to me on the bed.

"But that's so soon," I said, burying my head in the pillow, and sniffling some more. I really didn't want to be thinking about babysitting right then. "I was going to get my hair cut Sunday morning, like you told me. Before the Steeler's first game!"

"What's wrong with Saturday?" he asked. "That would make more sense."

"I just had other plans."

He rubbed his big hand over my bare, red ass. "I can always call them and they can find someone else," he said. While his soothing hand felt good, the thought of him spanking me didn't have the same appeal it did earlier in the week - hopefully that telethon bit was simply a phase.

"I don't really think I'm any good at babysitting, Dad," I sighed. "Maybe - maybe it's time I found some other way to make money. What do you think?"

"We talked about it, Matt, but if you don't want to babysit, that's fine. It's up to you. It's always been up to you."

Hmmm...what did he mean by that? "I just don't think I'm ready for another kid, especially considering how the current boy I have treats me."

"Suit yourself, son," he said, running his hand up the small of my back, where he then started to scratch the base of my neck. "For what it's worth, his grandmother said that Vincent REALLY wanted you to watch him."

Oh, that felt good! - keep scratching!!

"Really?" I said, tilting my head. "Why is that?"

"I don't know?" Dad said, as he stopped scratching and stood up.

"I barely know the kid," I said.

"Well, he knows you, and he wants you. That's ok. I'll tell them."

I sighed. "Fine, I guess one morning a week isn't going to kill me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Then you should call them, son."

"Didn't you already confirm for me?"

"Oh yeah," he laughed. "Never mind."

"But I swear, Dad," I said, grabbing my Aunt's quilt, and tossing it over my naked bum. "This preteen will NOT get to spank me like the other one!"

Dad laughed. "Do I even want to know what happened?" he asked, pointing at my rump.

"No," I mumbled. "I'm sure you can guess, though."

"Gavin looked pretty pleased with himself when he left," Dad said, smirking himself. "And by the glow, I guess he has pretty good reason to be, huh?"

"Yeah, well, he thinks so anyway."

"I'm sure he does."

"What time do I need to be there?" I asked, changing the subject. Talking about the twenty-first (maybe?) time that Gavin spanked me was not what I wanted to be doing with my father that Friday evening.

"They need you there about 7:30 in the morning, and odds are you would be done about noon - one at the latest, so you can come home and watch the Steelers pound the Browns."

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll be there."

I needed the money, and I would be home early enough to be with Dad. On Sundays, in the fall, Dad knew I would want to be home to watch football with him - it was one of the few things that we ever did together. And this Sunday would be one not to miss - it's the first game of the season, and the Steerers are going to be playing the first game against the NEW Cleveland football team.

Vince seemed like an easy kid too watch, and I figured it couldn't be that tough. Well, I thought that at least - about thirty six hours later, just getting up on time was a bitch! I barely made it out of the house by the time I needed to be there, and the fifteen minute walk did nothing to wake me up.

"You timing couldn't be perfect," Vince's grandfather said, contrary to what I was expecting at 7:45 am. "We are getting ready to leave."

His wife, Vincent's grandmother, walked in, fiddling through her purse. "Do you have your keys?"

"No dear," he answered.

"I could have sworn...oh wait! Here they are!" she said, retrieving them from her bag. "How are you, Matthew?" she asked.

"Fine, thank you Mrs. Taylor," I said. The two of them laughed.

"No, son," Vincent's grandfather said. "Vince is our daughter's boy."

"Was out daughter's boy," his wife corrected.

"That's what I said," he insisted. "Anyway, we don't have the same last name."

I laughed; of course, I had forgotten that!

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hanson," I chuckled. "I forgot."

"Not a problem, Matt," the old man said. "It's early, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I laughed some more.

"Vincent is so happy to finally have a boy babysit him," Mrs. Hanson said. "He will be down in a moment!"

"He thought he was getting a little too big to be around a girl babysitter," her husband whispered. "Especially Sunday mornings."

"Angela is a lovely girl," Gandma said. "But he was obviously getting a little embarrassed around her, well, you can understand."

Actually - I couldn't. I nodded anyway.

"It wasn't so bad when he was little," Grandpa Hanson said.

"But you know growing boys!" she finished for him, as she looked up to see their grandson walk into the room. "Here's the little man now!"

Oh my!

Vince didn't look the slightest bit shy as he came into the kitchen, wearing nothing on but a t-shirt that was two years too small. I tried not to stare, but when a half-naked 10 year old boy comes into the room (especially since it's the good half that's nude!), it's hard not to give his bod the old once over.

"See," Mrs. Hanson said, lifting up the front of the shirt - not that she had to. "He's starting to become a man, down there."

Yup - I had to agree with her - at only ten, (and a SHORT ten for that - he was not a tall boy) the little bastard had as much hair as I did! _d_a_m_n_ my genetics!!

"Grandmother!" Vince said, putting his hands on his hips, but not resisting.

"And doesn't it looks like his little testes are about ready to drop like a couple of bags of oranges?" Grandfather chimed in, nudging me in the ribs. "LOOK OUT BELOW!" he bellowed, cupping his hands to his face, then laughing like he was Jerry Stiller.

All three of them cracked up at that one...I took a step back.

I suddenly felt much sympathy for poor Angie, and was wondering if I could escape.

"Ahhhh...I guess," I said. I looked at Vince - his pecker was fat too, like Gavin's pecker. A good fist full of pecker, that boy had. _d_a_m_n_ HE WAS HUNG!! That was one big, beefy pecker that little kid had!!!!

(Ok... stop looking at the kid's dick, Matt... just because everyone is pointing at it... and talking about it...and talking TO it... it doesn' t mean that... ahhhh...what the hell...!)

During all of this public inspection, Vincent didn't seem the slightest bit phased by any of it. If anything, the kid had a very content look on his face.

"Vince knows the rules, Matt," she said, sitting down at the table. "He's not allowed any friends while we're gone. No computer and no phone. He can only watch television if it's something on the Family Channel or TNN."

"What about Nickelodeon or Disney Channel?" I asked.

"That Nickelodeon has become nothing but trash!" Grandpa Hanson chimed in. "And Disney is just a sinful bastion of homo_s_e_x_uals, Jews and liberals!"

Yikes!

"Amen," Granny said.

"Amen," Vincent also said.

Be careful what rocks you look under - Lord knows what kind of answers you'll find under there!

"And, most important, Vince isn't allowed to wear any undershorts or pants until we come home, isn't that right, Vince?"

Ahhhhhh! THAT'S why he was suddenly getting embarrassed around his old babysitter...the girl babysitter...the "most important" rule...!

"Yes, mam," he said, his hands now crossed, and behind his back.

I didn't really want to ask why that was, but felt I should know. After all, if I was to be babysitting him...but, I don't know...was it really my business??

Anyway, before I could say anything, Grandpa explained: "You see, Matt. Sunday is the one day a week where Vincent gets punished."

"Punished?" I asked.

"Yes," Granny Hanson said. "Me and Pa are too old to be keeping after him all the time, but we know he needs his discipline, like any good Christian boy."

"Uh-huh." I was totally lost.

"So we agreed," Vince said, amid an angelic smile, "That there would be one day a week where I would get spanked for anything that I might have done, or might have gotten away with, during the previous week. "

"You only...he only gets spanked once a week?"

"On Sundays."

"On Sunday mornings?"

"Not always just in the morning," Vince mumbled.

"But always in the morning," Mrs. Hanson said.

I really felt as if I had landed in the Twilight Zone.

"I have a report I give them once a week, and every Sunday, before church," he said with a gulp. "Then, based on the report, Grandmother paddles me."

"But what if...?" I was about ready to ask, before I stopped myself. I didn't need to know ...this was their little family bizarreness. I had my own bit to contend with without being dragged into another family's wacky traditions.

"But what if there is a week he DOESN'T do something wrong?" Grandad asked for me.

"Yeah, or..." I began.

"Or, what is to stop him from lying and saying that he didn't do anything wrong?" Mr. Hanson continued. He seemed to have all the angles covered!

"Yeah," I said.

"You are still a boy, Matt," Vince's grandmother said, "But you are old enough to realize that during the course of a week a boy - ANY boy - has done something -anything - or gotten away with something - anything - that he should be spanked for."

Ooooh, boy! It's tough to argue with that Catholic logic ...even if I wanted to!

"Vincent gets spanked, then, regardless of what he has done then?" I asked.

"Yes, and, if he gives us a weekly report with little or nothing on it, well," Mr. Hanson said, "Then I skin him instead of my misses, because he MUST be lying."

"And I don't like that!" Vince said, smiling as he rubbed his bare butt.

"No, I am much tougher on his tender, little backside than his grandmother is!" Grandpa laughed. "He will do about anything to avoid me coming after him!"

"Amen!" Vince said.

"Although, I can still use that paddle like it's no one's business," she said, pointing to center of the kitchen table. Sure enough, there is was - a little wooden paddle, with a big red "V" painted on the center of it. "Can you hand that to me, darling?" she asked me.

"Sure," I said.

As I reached over to get it, Vince climbed over his grandmother's lap. I handed it to her - my heart was racing. I could not believe I was going to witness an actual spanking first thing in the morning!

THIS WAS GREAT!!!

But it was weird...

BUT IT WAS STILL GREAT!!!!

I couldn't believe that I almost didn't want to come over here!!


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