Jeffrey's Adventures in Babysitting

Jeffrey's Adventures in Babysitting 5

By David

The author prefers not to display any email address. Please direct any feedback to puericil@hotmail.com and it will be forwarded

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter Five – An Awkward Situation

Thirteen year old Jeffrey Walton felt like a little child. Wearing nothing more than a small hand towel wrapped partially around his waist, the reluctant babysitter stood before his employer, Mrs. Judith Martin, and wished he was a million miles away. She had caught him, fair and square, sneaking about her house in his birthday suit, cornering him in her bathroom where he was hiding in the shower. A failed attempt to explain away his nakedness left the terrified lad in the most awkward if not amusing predicament.

“My goodness, I wonder where those girls have gone off to,” the pretty lady said with mock concern. “I can’t believe it takes this long for them to find your clothes. I’m so sorry, Jeffrey. I will give them hell when they get back, I promise!”

“That’s all right,” Jeffrey croaked. He struggled to stretch the towel over his bare bottom, but it was no good; his cheeks were fully exposed to his employer’s view. If he let go of the towel she would be able to see everything.

“I ... I’m ... I’m okay, I guess. I just ....” He took a deep breath and sighed. “This is really embarrassing, Mrs. Martin! Please don’t look at me!”

Despite the blushing boy’s plea, Judith Martin leaned over to get a long, lingering look at his bare butt. She then gave him a little smirk and a wink.

“Aw, you poor thing. You’re being a very good sport about this, Jeffrey. But don’t you worry, I will not leave your side until we get you all fixed up, all right? All right!”

“Um, you ... you d-d-don’t have to ... do that, Mrs. Martin,” Jeffrey stammered. “I ... I’ll be ... um ... okay.”

The pretty woman raised an eyebrow and gave his bottom another look. “Oh, but I want to stay here with you. Trust me ... I don’t mind at all! This is a lot of fun, don’t you think?”

While they waited for the return of the girls, Mrs. Martin chit-chatted aimlessly, asking Jeffrey all sorts of questions about school and his mother, as grown women are prone to do. She was especially interested in his private and habits, what kinds of books he read, the games he played, everything; she even asked if he knew any pretty girls and if any of them were his girlfriend! That was so embarrassing – especially in his disadvantaged condition – it was almost like listening to his mother. Almost.

What is it with these women, he thought silently. It’s like they’re always going out of their way to be so annoying!

Needless to say, Jeffrey felt so weird, standing just a few feet from Mrs. Martin, he practically in his birthday suit, she in her feminine finery. He tried his best to not look too closely at his employer, but he was practically eye level with her bounteous bosom, which was just inches away from his nose and eyes. His legs started to cramp from where he was pressing his thighs together and keeping his penis from popping out from its hiding place. To distract himself he allowed his mind to wander. He immediately thought about how his employer had seen him completely naked only moments ago; aside from his mother and his doctor, he realized she was the only other grown woman to see him naked.

Oh crap, he thought with incredulity. Mrs. Martin actually saw me with a hardon!

The shamed lad reflected on his predicament for a moment and felt his stomach churn with nausea as another thought crept into his brain.

Geez ... she even saw me almost jacking off! Geeeeezus ... not even my mom or the doctor have seen me do that! How sick is that?!

As Jeffrey fidgeted uncomfortably with naught but a skimpy wet towel to hide his nakedness, he noticed his employer’s eyes flick playfully up and down his body. He turned away from her only to see his reflection in that dumb old dressing mirror; and, of course, he saw his employer’s eyes staring back at him from over his shoulder, and the huge smile on her face as she took in the comical sight before her. His reaction was to press his aching thighs together extra hard to keep his penis from slipping free and causing him even more embarrassment.

Geez, how long is she going to stand there looking at me, he asked himself. She’s almost as bad as her stupid daughters!

The beleaguered boy wondered what his employer would say if he turned and fled back into the shower. That would be ridiculous, of course, and solve nothing; no doubt she’d just look at him through the frosted glass. That’s what he would do if she was the one in the shower. But she wasn’t. He was. And that was quite unnerving, to say the least.

At long last the girls finally showed up with Jeffrey’s clothes, arriving at the bathroom with a thundering rumbling of bare feet pounding on the hardwood floor. All three had mischievous grins on their cute faces, their hands covering their mouths as they fought the urge to burst out in laughter. Jeffrey felt like dying and he stood helplessly before them, clinging awkwardly to the skimpy towel around his waist and keeping his weary thighs pressed against one another to hide his erection.

Please don’t pop up, he prayed desperately as he clamped his knees together as hard as he could. Please don’t pop up, please don’t pop up ... please don’t pop up ... please don’t pop up ....

“Well, it’s about time you girls showed up!” Mrs. Martin said in a pretend scolding voice. “Poor Jeffrey has been standing here forever waiting for you little imps. I think you owe him an apology for your rude behavior, don’t you?”

The girls all smirked in unison and nodded obediently. “We’re sorry, Jeffrey,” they sang in chorus. “We were just having a little fun,” they added with a flutter of girlish giggles.

Mrs. Martin looked down at Jeffrey. “Well, what do you think, Jeffrey? Do we accept their apology?”

The nearly naked boy blinked, then shrugged.

“Um, that’s all right, I guess,” he whispered weakly.

The flustered teenager sighed as Anita and Rita and Tina all burst out laughing. He knew those little brats weren’t sorry about anything, they were just acting all innocent in front of their mother. Oh sure, they said they were sorry, but they didn’t mean it. It was just a big dumb joke on the big dumb babysitter!

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized ... Mrs. Martin really was just as bad as her daughters! He made an awful face as he thought about how she seemed to enjoy seeing him squirm, and the little looks and remarks she made were ... well, they made him feel almost as embarrassed as what the girls did to him.

She really does like teasing me and making me look stupid, the blushing boy thought to himself. She’s as mean as her dumb old daughters!

Jeffrey gritted his teeth as he realized Mrs. Martin had even maneuvered him into forgiving the girls for their “rude behavior.” Rude behavior? After all he’d been through, after one humiliation after another, he erased it all with a stupid, “Um, that’s all right”?

How the heck did she do that, the bewildered lad wondered. Why did she do that?

I really gotta get out of this house!

“Come on, darlings, give poor Jeffrey back his clothes,” Mrs. Martin said with a delightful voice. It’s time for him to go home, so we shouldn’t keep him any longer.”

One at a time the girls presented his things, first Anita with his pants and his socks, then Rita – or was it Tina? – with smirks and grins and giggles. Mrs. Martin patiently gathered them up, laughing happily in the process. The remaining twin made a dramatic effort as she whipped Jeffrey’s whitey-tighties from behind her back, holding them out by the waistband and waving them up and down as though she was signaling with a flag.

“Here’s your panties, Jeffrey-Poo!” she said in a teasing, mocking voice. “I bet you can’t wait to get back into them.”

“Oh, stop it, you silly thing!” Mrs. Martin laughed as she snatched the boyish undies from her daughter’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Jeffrey. I know these girls are a handful. I just never expected them to do anything quite like this.”

Jeffrey nodded. He glanced shyly at the girls, who – behind their mother’s back – stuck out their collective tongues and made the most comical faces at him. Tina – or was it Rita? – stuck out her butt and pretended to spank it. The other twin pretended to cry and wipe away her fake tears. Anita just made funny faces, sticking out her tongue and looking at him through his eyeglasses with crossed eyes and trying to make him laugh. It would have been funny if ... well, if he wasn’t in so much trouble.

“Girls, really? Haven’t you done enough to the poor boy?” Mrs. Martin plucked Jeffrey’s glasses from Anita’s face. She peered through them and shook her head. “My goodness, Jeffrey, you poor dear, you’re practically blind without these things, aren’t you?”

Well, that didn’t make our hero feel any better; it was bad enough he didn’t even have any pants on, but getting teased about his glasses only made him feel worse. Ignoring the tittering and snickering from the trio of brats before him, the frustrated lad shrugged and nodded.

“I guess so,” he croaked in a hoarse voice. In his head, however, he was fuming!

What does any of that have to do with letting me get dressed?! I just want to put on my pants, dang it!

The pretty woman smiled as she handed Jeffrey his spectacles, along with his clothes. He forgot himself for a moment and he accidentally let go of his towel as he reached out to receive his things; the towel fell to the floor with a wet “plop!” leaving him completely naked before four sets of leering eyes. A gust of air on his bare bottom was accompanied by a cacophony of girlish laughter and shrieks of delight.

Uh-oh ....

“What happened to Jeffrey’s weenie?!” the girls all cried out. “It’s not there!”

Jeffrey glanced down to see that his erection was still locked in between his tightly pressed thighs. He pushed them together even harder, very nearly causing himself a serious cramp. He then looked up with pleading eyes at Mrs. Martin, who merely shrugged and winked at him; she then laughed and turned to the girls.

“What do you mean, girls? What weenie?”

“Oh, Mommy, you’re being silly!” Anita said with a giggle. “Jeffrey’s weenie is gone! It looks like he has a ‘cookie’ between his legs instead of a weenie!”

Mrs. Martin looked over at Jeffrey and winked – again. “‘Cookie’ is our code word for vagina,” she said slyly. “They’re right, you know. You do look like you have a cookie down there instead of a weenie. Just like I said a little while ago ... you look just like a girl.”

The blushing boy gritted his teeth. He was so ashamed of the mess he’d gotten into, he wanted to run away and hide.

“I am a boy, not a girl,” he mumbled softly. “I don’t have a ... cookie ... I have ... a ... a ....”

“You ain’t got no weenie!” squealed Rita-Tina. “You got a cookie!”

“You sure do have a cookie, Jeffrey-Poo!” Anita yelled as loud as she could. She stepped behind the naked teenager and turned him toward the dressing mirror. “See? A cookie and no weenie! That’s what I see? Is that what you see, Mommy?”

Jeffrey looked in the mirror to see Mrs. Martin looking down on him. There was that mischievous smile again.

“Oh yes, that’s what I see,” she sweetly sang. “A cookie and no weenie. That’s what I see, all right.”

Before the horrified boy could do anything, the other two Martin girls jumped into the picture, standing behind him and appearing in the mirror with their older sister and mother. What Jeffrey saw was his naked self surrounded by three jubilant little girls and an amused adult woman; it was a sight he was not likely to ever forget!

“A cookie and no weenie!
That’s what Jeffrey’s got!
A cookie and no weenie!
A girl he is, a boy he’s not!
A cookie and no weenie!
That’s what Jeffrey’s got!
A cookie and no weenie!
A girl he is, a boy he’s not!”

“I’M NOT A GIRL! I’M A BOY!” Jeffrey shouted. He was tired of being made fun of and he was going to put a stop to all of this foolishness, even if it made his mother’s friend mad. “STOP TEASING ME! I AM NOT A STUPID GIRL!”

“A cookie and no weenie!
That’s what Jeffrey’s got!
A cookie and no weenie!
A girl he is, a boy he’s not!”

Just then the naked lad shifted his legs and his penis – as tight and erect as it had ever been – suddenly sprang up from its hiding place and smacked him on the belly with an audible “slap!”

Oh ... god ... no ... not now ....

“Well, I guess he’s got us there, girls,” Mrs. Martin said with a girlish giggle. “Jeffrey apparently is a boy after all.”

“Look sisters!” Anita squealed with glee. “Jeffrey’s weenie is sticking out! Hahahaaaa!”

“Wow, it is sticking out!” Rita – or was it Tina? – yelled. “It looks really funny that way!”

“We see Jeffrey’s weenie!” Anita shouted.

“We see Jeffrey’s weenie!” echoed the twins.

“We see Jeffrey’s weenie!
We see Jeffrey’s weenie!
We see Jeffrey’s weenie!
We see Jeffrey’s weenie!”

All of a sudden, Mrs. Martin let loose with another of her braying, donkey-like laughing fits. It was so loud, so noisy, even the girls stopped to listen.

“BWAAAHAHAAAAAW! *snort!* BWAAAHAHAAAAAW! *snort-snort!* BWAAAHAHAAAAAW! *snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAAAAAAW!”

“Uh-oh! Mommy’s snorting again,” Anita yelled with a giggle. “She’s so funny!”

“BWAAAHAHAAAAAW! *snort-snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAAAAAA! *snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAHAAAAAWWWW!”

“Nobody likes laughing like our mommy!” Rita-Tina proudly proclaimed, giving Jeffrey a gleeful look. “She must really like you, Jeffrey-Poo!”

“BWAAAHAHAAAAAW! *snort-snort!* HAHAHAHAAAW!!! *snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAAAAAAW! *snort!* HAHAHAHAAAAAAW!”

Judging from the light in their eyes, this was one of the girls’ favorite things and they didn’t move a muscle as their mother laughed and laughed and laughed until she was all laughed out.

“HAHAHAHAAAW!!! *snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAAAAAW! *snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAW!”

By the time Mrs. Martin was done laughing, Jeffrey was numb with disbelief. He looked up at his employer with wide eyes. He had absolutely no idea what to do other than just stand there and wish he were dead.

“Oops! I’m so sorry, sweetie. That was my fault.” Mrs. Martin straightened her blouse and her hair and shot a wink at the naked boy. “I know you hate me laughing at you, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s just that you’re so funny and adorable.

“This is really embarrassing,” the flustered boy squeaked. “Everybody keeps making fun of me!”

The pretty lady reached out and playfully mussed his hair. “Oh, don’t be so sensitive, Jeffrey. Trust me, you don’t have anything they haven’t seen before. And besides, we wouldn’t be laughing if we didn’t like you.”

“Mommy, you were so funny!” Tina-Rita cried. “You were almost as funny as Jeffrey’s weenie!”

“I don’t know,” countered Anita. “Jeffrey’s weenie is pretty funny.”

“All right, all right, that’s enough, girls. Calm down, please. No more talking about Jeffrey’s weenie, okay?” Mrs. Martin began herding her rambunctious daughters out of the room. “Come on, girls, let’s give Jeffrey some privacy. Lord knows the poor boy needs some peace and quiet after dealing with you little imps.”

“‘Bye Jeffrey-Poo!” Anita called out. “Nice SEEING you!”

“Yeah, nice seeing you, Jeffrey-Poo!” one of the twins sang happily. “Nice seeing your teeny weeny wittle weenie!”

“And your big fat butt, too, Jeffrey-Poo!” squealed the other.

Mrs. Martin looked back at the devastated teenager and sighed. “You poor thing. Tell your mother I’m so sorry.”

Jeffrey shrugged bashfully and nodded. “Um, yes ... y-yes ... m-m-ma’am.”

Once he was alone Jeffrey rushed to the door, shut it and set the lock. He knew it probably wouldn’t do much good against the girls when they were unsupervised, but he hoped that with their mother in the house they might just leave him alone for once.

“Stupid brats,” he whispered to himself. “I’ll get them one of these days.”

The naked lad looked at his naked reflection one last time before turning his attention to where his clothes laid on the toilet seat. He almost burst out in tears. It had been a long day. He looked forward to escaping this madhouse. With any luck he’d be in his own house, hiding in his bed in the next fifteen minutes. All he had to do was get into his clothes before something else stupid happened ....

I’m never coming back here again, he thought to himself. I don’t care how much they pay me.

***

“Jeffrey? I asked you a question, sweetheart. Wake up, honey ... your mama is talking to you!”

The dazed teenager blinked, then look up at his mother. He half expected her to be mad at him for not paying any attention again, but instead she had the queerest look on her face. It was as though she was trying to read his mind.

“Sorry. I was just thinking ... about something.”

“Oh really?” Marie Walton raised an eyebrow. “Penny for your thoughts. Whatever it was, it must have been pretty important.

Jeffrey thought about the shameful events of the day. He felt an alarming tingling in between his legs and he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “Not really.”

The smiling woman nodded as if she understood. “Well, as I was saying, I think this babysitting thing is really working out for you. You get to make a little money and hang out with some cute girls. And if you manage your time right you can get your homework done so you can spend more time with your dear old mom. And not stare into space.”

“I guess. Maybe.” The blushing boy thought for a moment, then bit his lip. He looked up at his mother with a pleading expression on his face. “I really don’t like being a babysitter, Mom. I don’t wanna do it anymore. Please don’t make me go back there! Please?”

Jeffrey watched as his mother started at him. She swirled the glass of wine in her hand, not saying a word for several seconds. Her silence was unnerving.

“I thought we already went over this. What are you saying, sweetie? Did the girls do something bad? Did they do something to you that you don’t want to talk about? Or maybe you did something. You can tell me, you know. I won’t get mad or anything, I promise.”

Sighing heavily, the frustrated teenager shook his head. He couldn’t tell his mother what was on his mind. He thought about all that had happened that afternoon, how Anita and her two idiot sisters had ambushed him and knocked him down and took away his clothes, how they humiliated him in the bathroom ... and then playing that stupid game of “It” and getting tickled and groped and spanked whenever he lost.

Holy crap ... I can’t even tell Mom about Mrs. Martin and how she made me stand naked in front of her and ... and ... and how ... she tricked me into almost jacking off. Geez, not even I would believe that story!

Yes, it had been the worst day of Jeffrey Walton’s young life ... but he couldn’t tell his mother about any of it. Not no way, not no how!

“No Mom, we ... we didn’t do anything bad,” he croaked. “I ... I know I didn’t do anything ... wrong. I ... I ... just don’t like being a babysitter, that’s all. It’s stupid and those stupid girls are stupid. They’re always yelling and screaming and being mean. And I can’t make them mind me or leave me alone! I just don’t wanna do it anymore!”

Mrs. Walton drained the last of the wine from her glass and tapped the rim with a perfectly manicured fingertip. She had a subtle, knowing smile on her face; for an instant Jeffrey wondered if Mrs. Martin had told her what had happened. Did the girls’ mother tell on him, how she caught him in the shower and how his clothes were missing? Did she herself know more than she was letting on?

That would be just awful, the terrified youth thought to himself. If Mom finds out about me being naked in front of those stupid girls, she’ll kill me, I just know it. That is, if I don’t die first!

Thank goodness, there was no sign of anybody knowing anything they shouldn’t. To the contrary, it seemed that Jeffrey’s mother had received a glowing report on his performance, cementing his employment in the one profession he despised ... and feared.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re talking like this. Mrs. Martin and I had a nice talk on the phone after you got home and she just thinks you’re the best babysitter she ever had. She’s had quite a few, high school girls, older ladies, next door neighbors, you name it. And you are the very best, it seems. You didn’t know that, did you?”

The red-faced lad shook his head. This was not what he wanted to hear.

“You should be honored, honey. Judith doesn’t give out praise lightly. She said the house is always in order when she gets in from work, the girls just love you and they’ve been on their best behavior the last two nights after you sat with them. I think that’s something to be quite proud of, don’t you? Hmm? Hmmm?”

Jeffrey shrugged. It could have been worse. Maybe. Mrs. Martin could have told his mom the truth.

“You’re not going to make me go back there, are you Mom? I really don’t wanna do it anymore. I really don’t wanna ....”

“Oh, that’s silly talk,” Mrs. Walton interrupted. “Yes, you are going back and you’re going to be a great babysitter. I just know it.”

“But ... but Mooooooooom ....” wailed the worried teenager. “Please ... I ... I can’t ....”

“Oh sure you can, Jeffrey. It’s not that hard. No, as I see it, you’ve got a good thing going here. You’re just not used to being in charge, that’s all. But you’ll get used to it, sweetie. You just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll be fine. Pretty soon you’ll have those little girls wrapped around your finger. You just keep being you!”

Jeffrey didn’t say anything for a moment. He had plenty to say, but none of it would do him any good. He just looked down at his plate and shrugged.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll keep being a babysitter. If you say so.”

Mrs. Walton beamed with delight. “Oh, I say so, all right. Don’t be such a pouty puss. You’ll do great. Just wait until the end of the week. You’ll have this all down to perfection. You’ll be happy, the girls will be happy, Mrs. Martin will be happy ... and most important, your mama will be happy.”

Jeffrey bit his lip and nodded.

“Yes, Mama. Whatever you say.”

***

A little while later Jeffrey was in bed, trying his best to not think about the events of the day. He wished he could just erase his memory, like so many words on a chalkboard. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, weird and scary and wonderful images crept into his thoughts.

“I can’t believe all that actually happened to me,” he whispered aloud to himself. “Those crazy girls ... tricked me out of my clothes ... looking at me ... touching me ... all over ... like that ....”

He then thought about Mrs. Martin and how she had dumped all that lotion in his hand and pushed it against his belly and down to his penis. He shivered as he remembered taking his erection in his hand and rubbing lotion all over it ... just as he’d been encouraged to do.

“She ... she tricked me. She wanted me to jack off,” he said aloud to himself. “I can’t believe ... she did that to me. I can’t ... I can’t believe ... all that stuff ... it actually happened ... to me ....”

A wave of shame, tinged with more than a little excitement, swept over the flustered boy, sending a rush of blood to his face, causing him to blush. His face, his neck and his ears all burned red hot as he replayed all of the things he experienced. The fear he felt ... the helplessness ... the pain ... the tickling and the involuntary laughter ... the leering smiles and knowing looks ... all rushed through his mind, triggering conflicting feeling and emotions.

“Oh gosh, those stupid girls ... they saw me naked ... made me get naked ... and touched me ... all over ... stupid girls ....”

Jeffrey squirmed as images and memories rushed about in his head. The picture of himself being wrestled down and his pants being taken away both angered and shamed him. And the memory of sitting on the toilet while the girls all stood about leering and laughing made him feel ... well, like a helpless little child, not at all like a teenaged boy.

“That was really REALLY embarrassing ... I can’t believe I actually did that in front of them!”

Among the flurry of images that flickered through his thoughts was that of the girls’ mother, Mrs. Martin. Jeffrey bit his lip as he remembered trying to hide from her and failing miserably; the frantic desperation he felt as he emerged from the shower and stood before her, completely naked and without an explanation of how he got into such a predicament; the knowing smile, the raised eyebrow and the teasing, tantalizing questions the made him feel so uncomfortable and ashamed. All of those memories triggered a familiar tingling sensation between his legs. Before he knew it, his penis was erect and poking against his pajama bottoms. The sensitive tip rubbing against the soft cotton was incredibly distracting and annoying.

“Oh, geez ... not now ... I don’t really wanna ... do this,” he whispered. “Not now ....”

Try as he might, Jeffrey could not ignore his aching appendage. He tried thinking about other things, his comic books, movies, school ... his teachers ...

But then his thoughts strayed to the girls in his class ... Suzanne Whittaker, Maryann Clarkson ... Bobbi Sue Curtis. It wasn’t but a few seconds and the image of him being naked in front of these girls he knew ... girls he had a crush on ... hit him. And so did another overpowering electric twinge at the tip of his stiffening penis.

“Oh wow ....” Jeffrey smiled at the thought of being naked in front of the girls in his class. “That ... that wouldn’t have been ... so bad ....”

In an effort to delay the inevitable, the restless teenager rolled over on his stomach and let his imagination run wild. In his mind he played out many of the events of the day, only he substituted the girls from his class in place of those stupid freckle-faced Martin brats. As much as he hated being humiliated and teased by a bunch of dumb girls, it didn’t seem all that unpleasant when he imagined Suzanne and Maryann taking off his clothes ... or Bobbi Sue standing over him, smiling and laughing and having fun at his expense.

“That ... that might have ... actually been ... fun,” Jeffrey said aloud. “A lot better than that ugly ol’ Anita and those freaky twins!”

The story in his thoughts played out similarly to what happened in real life. The blushing boy smiled at the thought of being the center of attention of so many pretty girls, being forced to stand before them in his birthday suit ... to let them touch him in places no one else had ever touched before ... and to even be more than a little mean to him, bullying him about, spanking his bare bottom and even slapping his face.

“I ... I wouldn’t have minded that,” he whispered softly. “It would have been better than those stupid little girls ....”

In his fantasy he imagined Maryann and Suzanne holding him down and teasing him while Bobbi Sue played between his legs. That was easy, especially because Bobbi Sue was a little too much like Anita and her sisters; she was, in real life, a bit bossy and even a touch of a bully. But that would be all right. She was pretty enough ... getting stripped naked and pushed around by her wouldn’t be so bad. It might even be fun ....

But the real excitement came when Mrs. Martin strayed into his thoughts. Being caught naked by his mother’s friend was one of the most frightening and exciting things that ever happened in his life; while a part of him wished he was dead, another part – that being his penis, of course! – was so happy, it stood up and practically begged for attention from the pretty lady.

“That was so scary ... but so cool,” Jeffrey whispered to himself. “It would have been fun if it hadn’t been for her stupid daughters! I mean, she almost tricked me into jacking off!”

A rush of blood heated his face as the excited young replayed that moment in his mind. He squirmed restlessly as he again thought about Mrs. Martin squirting that huge dollop of lotion into his hand and pushing it up against his body. Of course he rubbed it in between his legs; that’s pretty much what she wanted him to do, wasn’t it?

He bit his lip as he replayed the instant that he realized he’d touched his penis in her presence and looking up to see the amused expression on her face, how she curled her lip and raised an eyebrow, as if to dare him to go ahead and jerk off while she watched.

“Geez ... I ... wonder what she would have done if I did?” he whispered into his pillow. “I wonder ... would she have told my mom? Would she have made me stop? Or would she have just stood there and watched me?

After thinking and squirming for several restless minutes, Jeffrey finally gave in to temptation. He rolled over on his back, sighed, and kicked off his sheets. He then unbuttoned his pajama bottom and shoved it down about his knees, exposing his erect penis to stand up in the cool evening air. It felt so good, to be almost naked ... in the dark ... in his bed ... knowing he could do whatever he wanted and not be bothered. It was almost like heaven.

And so, with a mixture of thoughts, both real and imagined, running through his fever-pitched brain, young Jeffrey Walton put his hands together and began masturbating like there was no tomorrow. In his mind Mrs. Martin stood over him, carefully watching his every move, her eyes flickering between his hands buried in between his thighs and looking him directly in the eye; a broad, mocking smile stretched her red-painted lips and she began taunting him ever so cruelly.

“Such a naughty boy,” she sang sarcastically as the blushing boy pulled and tugged on his aching organ. “Just wait until I tell your mama what you’re doing. She will be so very proud of her perverted pretty little angel, won’t she? Oh yes, so very proud, indeed!”

“No ... don’t ... please ... don’t look at ... me,” Jeffrey whispered shyly ... shamefully. “Please ... don’t tell ... my mom ... please ... don’t ... tell her ....”

“Oh, I’m telling, Jeffrey-Poo,” the phantom Mrs. Miller cooed in the darkness. “I’m going to tell your mama what you’re doing and we’re going to laugh and laugh and laugh ... Jeffrey’s a naughty little boy ... Jeffrey’s a spoiled little baby who can’t keep his clothes on ... Jeffrey’s a nasty little pervert who loves pulling on his teeny weeny wittle weenie ... and your mama and me are going to laugh and laugh and laugh ....”

“BWAAAHAHAAAAAW! *snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAAAAAAW! *snort-snort!* HAW HAW HAW HAW! *snort!* HAHAHAHAAAAAAW!”

The ugly, donkey-like braying is what did it. Jeffrey was barely minutes into his fantasy when the blast of humiliation and excitement overpowered his body and an electric shockwave took hold of him, causing him to tremble and shake as though he’d been electrocuted. Helpless in the spasm that seized his body, our hero arched his back and strained from head to toe as a thick stream of warm, sticky jism discharged with fantastic force from his aching penis.

“BWAAAHAHAAAAAW! *snort!* HAW HAW!” The imaginary Mrs. Martin continued her mockery as Jeffrey ejaculated into the night air. “Nasty, nasty boy! Just wait ‘til your mama sees the ugly mess you’ve made in your bed! HAW-HAW HAAAAAW! *snort-snort!* HAHAHAHAAAAAAW!”

A sharp, almost painful contraction lit up somewhere up inside his bottom – at such a young age he had not yet discovered the wonders of his prostate – and it shot a painful stream through his boyish appendage, resulting in a sensation like no other that he had experienced. As a result, the stringy, slimy goo surged forth like an out of control fountain of hot, heavy cream, continuous, abundant and heavy in weight. Jeffrey never had been a fan of the messy emissions from his body as they were so gross and difficult to clean up after; this time was the worst yet, his young body shooting out such a tremendous amount of semen that it felt as though he was peeing all over himself and his bed.

“EWWW! GROSS!” Jeffrey cried out as the slippery goop spurted upward into the darkness and then fell back onto his bare skin, his pajamas and his bedclothes. “No no no no no no ... oh gosh ... oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh ....”

“HAW-HAW HAAAAAW! *snort-snort!* HAHAHAHAAAAAAW!”

After gushing forth with such extreme force, Jeffrey was exhausted. It took the spent youth a while to return to his senses. In fact, he even dozed off, he was so weakened and drained of his energy. But the feeling of warm wetness on his bare skin and his bed roused him and he lay in awe – and revulsion – of the aftermath of his orgasm.

“Yuck,” he muttered with disgust. “This stuff is all over me! It’s so nasty! Oh geez ... it’s all over my sheets and my covers, too! How am I gonna clean this up? My mom is going to kill me! I am so fucked ....”

But boys will be boys, and the intense pleasure Jeffrey experienced overpowered his self-loathing; as he languished in the afterglow of his exertions, his thoughts returned to Mrs. Martin and he eagerly imagined her standing over him, smirking at him as he lay covered in his own filth.

“Such a nasty, stinky little mess you got yourself into, hmm?” The imaginary woman winked as she surveyed the damage Jeffrey did to his bedclothes. “Oh, your mama is so going to love what you’ve done to her sheets and covers. She’s going to be so proud of her dirty little boy, you can be sure of that!”

Jeffrey smiled wryly at the ridiculous scenario in his head. He did not know why he felt this way, but the fact was, he was fascinated with the idea of his mother’s friend teasing him. Was it all because of the way she acted when she caught him in her bathroom? Was he ... actually liking ... the idea of being mocked or even being bullied?

“This is so weird,” the youngster thought aloud. “I should hate this ... but ... it’s just make believe. I wonder ... what if ....”

Taking a deep breath, Jeffrey’s fertile imagination took his self-indulgent fantasy to a new level; in addition to Mrs. Judith Martin standing over him as he masturbated, he pretended that the girls from his class had entered the scene ... Suzanne Whittaker, Maryann Clarkson and Bobbi Sue Curtis, all dressed up as if they were headed for Sunday school ... standing over his bed, looking on and reacting in ways that evoked shame and mortification and fear in the excited lad’s mind.

“EW! How nasty!” Suzanne said with disgust. “Jeffrey Walton, how could you?! I thought you were a nice boy, not like this at all! Yuck! You are such a pervert!”

“He’s so gross,” Maryanne cried in agreement. “Pulling on his wiener like that ... how pathetic can you get! Boys are so weird!”

Bobbi Sue, of course, had a different reaction to the scene. “Aw, I think he’s kinda cute, Mrs. Martin! Yanking on his itsy-bitsy teeny weenie and looking like a big fat baby ... I’d like to take him home with me and make him my pet! Do you want to come home with me, Jeffrey? Hmm? Do you want to be my little jerk off pet?”

Jeffrey smiled at the thought of the three girls looking at him and mocking him as he masturbated. He renewed his efforts, taking a deep breath and responded aloud to his imaginary audience as they leered and looked on with glee ....

“Nooooo ... don’t look at meeeee. Please ... give me my clothes back ... please? Don’t look at meeeeee ... please stop teasing meeeeee ....”

“What’s the matter, Jeffrey?” Mrs. Martin leaned over and nodded toward Jeffrey’s friends. “Why are you being so shy? Your little girlfriends really like what they see. You should be proud of yourself ... hmmm? All you need now is your mama to come in here and see you like ... wouldn’t that be fun ...? Wouldn’t she be soooooo proud ...?”

“No ... mmmmm ... noooooo ...,” Jeffrey gently sobbed in response. He struggled as nimble fingers continued to tease and stroke his turgid appendage. “Please ... stop looking at me ... noooo ... please doooon’t ... stop looking at me ....”

And so, our dazed hero returned to his ministrations – reluctantly at first, but then with enthusiasm. And in a matter of minutes he would be spent and drained and feeling bad about himself. And in truth adolescent fashion, the cycle would repeat itself again and again.

“Nooooo ... don’t look at meeeee,” Jeffrey repeated in his fantasy. “I want ... please ... give me my clothes back ... puh-leeeeeeassssse .... Don’t look at meeeeee ... please stop teasing meeeeee ....”

For nearly an hour Jeffrey would be embroiled in an adolescent orgy of excitement and shame and happiness and self-loathing. By the time he was finished for the night he’d be exhausted and drenched in sweat, and his pajamas and sheets would be stained with a volume of boyish stickiness never before seen. Flipping between joy and guilt, his little brain imprinted on the experiences and sights that ignited his boyish lust, and his vulnerable, impressionable psyche was programmed in ways that would affect him for days and years to come.

“Don’t look at meeeeee ... please stop teasing meeeeee ....”

A masochist was born that night, at such a tender, awkward age, and there was nothing anyone on earth could do to reverse that.

***

Outside Jeffrey’s bedroom door, just a few feet away from where our young hero lie squirming in self-induced ecstasy, Marie Walton stood silent – and mesmerized by the sounds in the darkness. She had been headed for her own bed when she heard suspicious creaking and moaning noises coming from her son’s room. Being a savvy mother, she pretty much knew what that meant; her precious little boy, the love of her life, was taking part in the dubious joys of pleasuring himself.

Oh joy, again with the jacking off, she thought wryly. What is it with this child? Can he not keep his hands off his little wiener for at least one evening?

This was, needless to say, not the first time Jeffrey’s mother had caught him masturbating. To her knowledge he had been practicing his newfound skills for several months now, since long before his thirteenth birthday. Hardly a day when by that Marie didn’t find the sticky signs of her son’s revolting habit, which she initially found to be gross and despicable. Besides the obvious, knowing that her little boy was growing up way too fast – in her eyes, anyway – there was the fact that her husband was a chronic masturbater, often preferring to pleasure himself rather than share the act with a loving wife.

“That perve!” she complained to her friends on more than one occasion. “You’d think that he’d prefer having sex with a real woman instead of looking at those stupid girlie magazines and jerking off! Oh no ... he spent more time jacking off than he ever did in bed with me! Well, I’ll tell you what ... I will NOT have Jeffrey growing up to be like his father! Not if it’s the last thing I do on this earth!”

Being a concerned mother, Marie followed through on her word. Determined to block her son from following his father’s footsteps, she made a practice of barging unexpectedly in on Jeffrey whenever he was alone, and especially if she thought he was up to no good. She did this as often as possible, even if he was in the bathroom sitting innocently on the toilet or changing clothes in his bedroom; her hope was to get a glimpse of him pulling on his penis, but instead it led to countless awkward confrontations, complete with shouting and crying, but no actual sightings of penis pulling or other deviant acts.

“MOM! Don’t do that!” Jeffrey would squeal whenever his mother surprised him. “Stop spying on me! I’m not doing anything wrong!”

“I don’t know that,” she would counter in frustration. “I know what you’ve been doing, so don’t act so innocent with me, young man! I know what kind of things little boys do behind closed doors!”

“MOM! PLEASE STOP IT!”

I’m not a bad mother, Marie would tell herself after making a scene with her tearful son. I’m just watching out for his well-being, that’s all. I’m doing what’s best for him, pure and simple!

This was all very frustrating for the young single mother, not to mention her understandably shaken son. Her plan, of course, was to interrupt young Jeffrey in the middle of jacking off and then scold him and lecture him until he was so traumatized that he would never want to masturbate again. She was practically doing that now, but she wanted to catch him in the act to make her point stick, so to speak.

“That’s exactly what he needs,” she said, to the amusement of her friends. “A good shaming from his mother, to embarrass him and make him feel guilty while his pants are down. Maybe then he would think twice before tugging on his little thing and making such a nasty mess on my good sheets. That would teach him a lesson for sure!”

Marie’s instincts were correct, of course; despite her constant prying and pestering, Jeffrey continued masturbating as often as he could get away with it, the opportunities for which were quickly diminishing due to his mother's unceasing vigilance. Amazingly, she kept up the pressure, though she became increasingly sly in her thinking. Discretion, she eventually learned, was more rewarding than direct confrontation, and after exercising a little patience she was successful in surreptitiously spotting him in the midst of his illicit activities.

And that’s when things took a curious turn; rather than immediately confront her son and put a stop to his perversions, Marie had a sudden change of heart. She became intrigued, fascinated even, by what she discovered. She had been prepared to be grossed out and angry, but after spying on her son over the course of several evenings she was amused and, well, more than a little charmed, especially when she saw the look on his face following each orgasm.

Aw, he’s so adorable, she thought to herself as she thought about Jeffrey’s dreamy expression in the wake of his jacking off. He looked so helpless, so childlike, as he struggled with his feelings, she didn’t have the heart to upset or shame him.

Poor little thing, he’s so confused by what he’s done, he doesn’t know what to think. Maybe this isn’t as bad as I thought.

Marie admittedly felt more than a little bit evil, peeking in on her son like a thief in the night; but he wasn’t really hurting anyone, and neither was she, she reasoned. So, rather than end his self-abuse she decided to simply monitor his little habit ... you know, to see just how dangerous it really was ... and to satisfy her own curiosity.

Maybe I’m a bad mother after all, she thought with a sheepish grin. Poor little Jeffrey ... poor little baby boy. Mama’s precious angel would just die if he knew she’s seen him playing with his little dickie-wickie. She had to laugh at her own silliness. Ah well, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

And so Marie Walton continued to keep an eye on her son, watching from a safe distance as the unsuspecting lad pleasured himself freely and unfettered. The meddlesome mother’s peculiar pastime took on the conspicuous characteristics of voyeurism, but she didn’t care; she had many opportunities to watch Jeffrey as he went through the entire process of masturbation from beginning to end, and what she saw each time brought her joy and happiness. In silence and in awe, she would stare as Jeffrey would go into the most amazing spasms and squirt all over his bedclothes or the bathroom floor. Marie herself found to be both fascinated and disturbed by all of this, but she bit her tongue and kept her observations to herself.

Why do men and boys have this ridiculous obsession with jerking on their silly little things, she thought with amusement. I just hope Jeffrey hasn’t inherited his father’s perversions ... it’s my job as his mama to make sure that they’re kept in check!

And so, on this particular evening Marie Walton waited patiently as her eyes adjusted to the darkness so she could take in the curious scene before her; just as she suspected, Jeffrey was writhing and wriggling about on his bed, his pajamas undone and partially discarded, his hands buried between his thighs and jerking up and down as fast as they could. The sight of her little darling pulling and tugging on his penis in such a comical manner nearly caused the single mother to laugh out loud.

That naughty child, she thought with wry amusement. He’s so caught up in his little fantasy world, he’d pee himself if I turned on the lights and surprised him. He’d probably be traumatized for life if he knew I was watching him!

She was actually thinking about testing her theory and flipping on the light switch when she heard something that sparked her curiosity ... a soft, muffled noise that would make her think ... and reconsider the path that fate would take her.

It was a whisper, faint and weak, followed by a soft muted moaning:

“No ... mmmmm ... noooooo ...,” a trembling voice gently sobbed. “Please ... stop looking at me ... noooo ... please doooon’t ... stop looking at me ....”

Marie blinked. What it the world was that? She licked her lips and leaned in closer, being careful not to make any noise or movement that would prevent her from hearing

“Oooooh ... nooooo ... don’t ... don’t look ... at ... meeeee ... stop laughing at meeeee ....”

For an instant Marie thought Jeffrey had dozed off and was talking in his sleep, as if in a dream. She watched carefully for several seconds, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness; a smile formed on her face as she saw that, no, her son was awake and masturbating as he spoke.

“Please ... give me back my ... my clothes ... stop looking at me ... stop touching me ... I don’t like being naked ... please ... don’t ... don’t ... don’t ....”

What in the world ...? He’s most certainly not asleep, the curious woman thought to herself. It sounds ... it sounds as if he’s playacting, or playing out some little fantasy in his head.

“Nooooo ... don’t look at meeeee,” Jeffrey repeated. He sounded like he was in real distress as he whispered the words. “I want ... please ... give me my clothes back ... puh-leeeeeeassssse ....”

This was certainly an unexpected development. In addition to the joy she took from watching her son masturbate, Marie Walton now had a mystery on her hands.

“Nooooo,” the squirming lad whispered. “Don’t look at meeeeee ... stop teasing meeeeee ....”

The delighted woman licked her lips as she watched her son pull on his boyish appendage and whisper to himself. As with so many times before, she was intrigued by the sight of her precious angel pulling on his little soldier and discovering one of life’s little pleasures. Where most mothers would find it obscene grotesque and perverted, well, she had to admit that it was quite endearing if not amusing. Oh sure, the thought of all that nasty, boyish spunk ruining her sheets and Jeffrey’s superhero pajamas was more than a little repulsive. But to see her baby boy wiggling and wriggling about with such passion and pleasure ... and whispering such mysterious phrases ... she couldn’t help but smile.

Ah, well ... it’s nothing a little extra detergent and an extended run through the washing machine can’t fix, she thought with a quiet giggle.

As if on cue, Marie watched in the dim light as her son stopped pulling on his penis, gasped, and then gave a fierce, spastic shudder; his young body twitched and twisted and he arched his back as though he was in great pain. She licked her lips and grinned as something white and shiny glistened in the air, falling on the spent lad and his bed; another stream of glittering silver shot up and fell, and still yet another.

Marie rolled her eyes and sighed. She would most definitely be washing Jeffrey’s sheets tomorrow. Perhaps she needed to teach the boy how to do his own laundry.

“I’m sorry,” Jeffrey said with soft sobbing, repentant voice. “Please ... give me my clothes ... stop looking at me like that ... please ... stop looking at me ....”

For several minutes neither mother or child moved and the house was completely silent. Marie didn’t move a muscle for fear of giving away her presence. At long last she heard the steady breathing that signaled that her son was asleep. With the stealth of a feral cat, she stepped backward into the hall, leaving the bedroom door partially open; there was no use risking making any unnecessary noise. Best to let Jeffrey alone with his dreams ... and his fantasies. For now, that is.

As she headed toward her bedroom the thoughtful woman played back her son’s comments in her mind:

“Please ... stop looking at me ... noooo ... please doooon’t ... stop looking at me ... stop laughing at meeeee ... give me back my cloooothes ....”

“I wonder where he got that?” She pondered the idea as she entered her bedroom. In the dark she shed her dress and loosened her brassiere. “He sure didn’t get it from me. And that doesn’t sound anything like his dear old daddy, or those awful girlie magazines he used to keep in the basement. I wonder ....”

An idea suddenly hit her. An idea so ridiculous, so out there, it couldn’t possibly be true. Well, it could possibly be true, but the unlikelihood was so absurd, so silly ... it just as well be impossible.

“I wonder if this has anything to do with him babysitting the Martin girls? Judith said they could be a handful, that they did have a mean streak in them. And he was whining about not wanting to babysit for them again. I wonder ....”

While she put her underthings in the hamper and performed her nightly toilet ritual she gave her theory some more thought. She laughed and shook her head as she slid naked between her bedsheets.

“Oh Marie, you’re just being silly. Those little girls couldn’t have anything to do with that! We’re talking about a teenaged boy jacking off and his silly adolescent fantasies. Judith’s daughters can’t have anything to do with that. They’re just little girls, for pity’s sake. My goodness, woman, you have got to get your head on straight!”

Still, as she lie staring at the ceiling above, she had her suspicions.

Something is going on in that pretty little blond head, she thought to herself. And I’m going to find out what it is.

Suddenly, she could hear a creaking noise from down the hall; Jeffrey was awaked and apparently at it again, his young body bouncing up and down on his bed as he masturbated for the second time that evening. Well, the second time that she knew of. Marie Walton rolled her eyes and giggled.

That child ... he’s going to yank his poor little wiener clean off if he’s not careful ....

And though it might have been her imagination, she could have sworn she heard his soft, trembling voice whispering, “Please ... stop it ... don’t do that ... please give me back my clothes ... don’t look at me ... don’t ... don’t touch me ....”

“Well, that does it,” she whispered with a smile. “I have got to get to the bottom of this! That little stinker has a secret and I’m going to find out what it is if it’s the last thing I do!”

To be continued ....

(End of File)