I was just another bored teenager, spending my summer babysitting for extra cash. But things got a lot more interesting when I started sneaking in some extra fun on the side.
Call it a rush, call it a kink, call it whatever you want. I loved the thrill of seducing my friends’ dads, stepdads, and even the cute divorced dad next door. They came to me all sweet and innocent, asking me to take care of their kids. Little did they know, I had some very adult plans for them.
It started with a few sneaky calls when the parents were out. Whispering in a sweet, innocent girl voice, I’d wrap them around my little finger with flirtatious giggles and offers of “one-on-one time.” They could never resist my “helpless little girl” routine.
Soon I was the talk of the neighborhood. Parents all raved about the charming teenage babysitter who was so responsible and trustworthy. But their husbands knew the truth – that sweet face hid a naughty little destroyer.
The real fun came when I’d slip into their beds at night and give them a “special massage.” They’d moan so quietly, hands roaming my young body, completely enthralled. I loved the power I had over these grown men. They were so helpless to resist my charms.
Sometimes I’d even “accidentally” get caught. Letting out a fake gasp, I’d feign surprise as a husband caught me in a compromising position with his wife’s best friend. The look of shock and anger would melt away when I pouted those innocent doe eyes at them. “Oopsie, you weren’t supposed to find out, Daddy…”
The thrill of almost getting caught, of knowing their marriages were crumbling because of me, only revved me up more. I was addicted to the taboo thrill.
My friends started fighting over me, each begging me to babysit their kids and “destroy” their daddies. I guess there’s just something sexy about shattering the image of the perfect family. I loved being the forbidden fruit.
Of course, not everyone was a fan of my extracurricular activities. Questions started popping up – why were there so many “sleepovers”? Why did certain dads seem a little too eager to hire me?
I knew I was playing a dangerous game, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was drunk on the power and the dirty thrill. These men needed me. Their lives were like clay in my hands, waiting to be molded and discarded.
Maybe I had daddy issues, maybe I was just bored, maybe I was born to be the “innocent destroyer” stereotype. All I know is I had to keep playing. I’d never stop being the babysitter incubus, no matter how many families I broke.