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Babysitter 2: False Accusation
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: October 15th, 2014


It's 9 a.m.; there's a knock at the door.

I open it to find two police officers standing on my porch.

"Mr. Keith Mathe?"

"Uh...yes?"

"Please come with us."

"What is this about?"

"Mr. Mathe, there's a warrant for your arrest, are you aware of that?"

"I...no...what?"

"Yes, sir, we're going to have to take you to the precinct."

"But...what? What are the charges?"

The cop looks at his warrant paper, "It says, suspicion of rape and sex with a minor."

"What?! I've never done either of those things! This has to be a mistake."

"I'm afraid not."

And just like that, they cuffed me and put me in the back of a police car on the way to the station.

 

A cop in a shirt and tie, bangs the desk; it wakes me from a stupor. I can't believe this is happening.

"What do you want to tell me?" He asks, for the thirteenth time.

"Nothing. I didn't do anything. My answer is always going to be the same."

"Okay...okay, what about this?" He tosses a paper towards me, it's a copy of Lydia's check from the night I babysat her Jenny and...Shelly.

"Yeah, I did a babysitting job, so what?"

"That puts you at the scene buddy; jury is not gonna turn the other cheek to that."

I put my head down, tired of this.

"So, tell me your version."

I look up just a little.

"You disagree with the official statement; so, what's your version, tell me what happened," he asks, seeming interested enough to care.

I think back but it strokes a chill down my spine as vivid flashbacks rush back to my memory. Jenny, Shelly....oh God, Lydia...I involuntarily gag a bit; I shake the thoughts away. What the fuck could I tell him from that? Why would he believe any of it? They think I'm a rapist!

"Nothing, I just was babysitting like I usually do. Quiet night."

"Ah okay, so perhaps we should talk to your other clients; maybe they'll corroborate Ms. King's story."

I'm angry now, "I never touched anybody!"

Silence fills the room as the cop still tries to sum me up.

"I want a lawyer," I say, breaking the silence; cops usually shut up when someone says that on Law & Order.

The cop growls through his snarly smile; he leaves.

 

But getting a lawyer was no help, I sat in jail until my court date.

"All rise! The honorable Judge Lison."

"Please be seated," the judge says hurriedly; all in the court sitting as she sat.

"This case is very clear cut for me and after hearing the testimony from Ms. King and Mr. Mathe; I find the defendant guilty of unlawful sex with a minor."

I put a hand over my mouth to keep me from crying.

"In the matter of punitive damages, as Ms. King is no longer a minor and thus can be awarded damages, this court orders the defendant to pay Ms. King in the amount of $25 million for irreparable damages and psychological harm; as well as child support for the six year old Lexie King until she is 21."

Shelly tears up, looks fake to me but I could be bitter because I fucking just lost a rape case! "That sounds fair, your honor," she says.

I interject, "Your honor, I can't...I can't pay that."

The judge slams the gavel down hard, eyes piercing through me, "You will remain quiet in my court room unless you are spoken to."

I just look down at the table; I'm not going to win with anyone here.

"I'm well aware of your financial situation at this moment, or lack thereof, Mr. Mathe. As such, this court orders you to declare Chapter 7 personal bankruptcy to liquidate whatever assets you do have to pay Ms. King."

They've ruined me. I didn't even do anything and they are taking away what little I have to rectify some crime I never committed.

"Furthermore," the judge continues, "I will be ordering Mr. Mathe to become a personal butler of Ms. King for as long as deemed necessary. This matter is now resolved; case is dismissed."

Another bang of the gavel and the judge leaves. Eventually everyone files out, even my lawyer but not before leaving me a printout of his bill on the table next to my slumped head.

I just sit in the court, still at the defendant's table; feeling at a total loss.

"Hey," a soft voice behind me.

It's Shelly. I say nothing.

"You ready to go home?" She asks, rattling a pair of shackles; she doesn't smile like I expect she would. I expected she would gloat her win over me but she didn't.

 

In the car, I look down at my shackled ankles. I'm in the backseat; Shelly is driving. She's not speaking; there's no music playing from the radio. She drives in silence.

At some point, watching the trees on the side of the road pass, I fall asleep.

What a day.

 

The car stops, stirring me awake; a garage door, light above shining into the car.

I open my door, and Shelly watches to ensure I follow her to the house.

On the dark porch, I wait for her her to fish her keys from her purse.

As I cross the threshold into Shelly's rather large house, I feel her hand on the back of my head; she pushes me to the ground.

I fall to my knees, they scrape painfully on the hard stone floor.

"You'll remain on your knees, slave; understood?"

"Yes," I answer with attitude.

She raises her voice, "You'll address me as Mistress; you'll end all your responses with Mistress. And anything I ask, I expect you to say, 'Yes, Mistress.' Got it?

"Yes...Mistress."

"That's better. Now take off my shoes, slave."

She lifts her high heel up near my face; I lift my hand to remove it...

"Use your mouth, slave."

I look up at her in disbelief, I say quietly, "I don't think this is what the judge had in mind when she made me your butler."

Her face turns to anger and she throws a quick kick across my face.

"Don't talk back to me, you little shit!

"Yuh...yes, Mistress."

"Better! Now take my fucking shoes off before I stick this heel in your fucking eye socket!"

I'm not sure what to do...but I freak, I use my teeth to grip around her foot and catch the shoe, dragging it off.

But I accidentally bite her. I feel her skin, different than shoe leather, between my teeth but it's too late.

She slaps me across the face so hard I fall onto my back.

"Please..."I plead.

"Still talking back?!"

"No, no...no Mistress. I'm sorry."

"That's right, you are sorry."

I cower on the floor there; a sight that I guess makes her smile.

She takes off her own shoes, staring at me the whole time with an awful smile on her face.

And then she walks out.

I sob silently on the floor there, still cowering and shaking. Eventually, I fall asleep.

 

A swift kick to the gut wakes me up; I cough as I double over.

"Wake the fuck up!" Shelly kicks me again.

"I'm up!" I scream.

"Watch that fucking tone! I'll call the judge and you'll be in jail so fast. And you know what I'd do...I'd tell her to make it an all women's prison and suggest you be slave to all of them."

My eyes widen; she can't do that, right? Why would the judge do that? Isn't that the height of cruel and unusual?

"So, if you want to just stick to pleasing me, you can get the fuck up and make breakfast!"

"Yes, Mistress."

I scramble to my feet and dart around looking for the kitchen until I finally find it.

I try to turn on the charm, might as well make the most of this, right? "What can I make for you, Mistress?"

"Oh, my little shit is so polite."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You think that's going to get you out of smelling my farts?"

I pause, I look at her as if to beg but I know my face is blank, expressionless, "No, Mistress."

"That's a good boy, you know your place."

"Yes, Mistress."

When I finish cooking and dish eggs onto her plate, followed up with bacon and wheat toast; she just looks at me, smiling, "I think you're forgetting something."

She points to her chair, underneath her.

I'm stunned for a moment, angry the next, then complacent, "Yes, Mistress."

I put myself on the floor, my head back on her chair; I watch her naked butt, pulsing towards me as she sits.

"Mmmm, this isn't bad; actually passable food."

"Thank you, Mistress," I mumble from under her.

BRRRRRRRrrrrpppp!

"I don't think I addressed you, slave."

"Sorry, Mistress," I mumble out again; the smell from her fart so potent and smelling of cauliflower, I choke trying to speak; I wheeze, every inhale agonizing and noxious.

"Mmmm!" She says, rising; she steps on my penis, I think accidentally. "That was delicious; make me another!"

"Wha..."

"Excuse me, slave?"

"Yes, Mistress; of course, Mistress," I say, recovering and rising to my feet; subtly rubbing my nose in a vain attempt to get the smell from my nostrils but it's baked in there, for God knows how long.

And like Groundhog Day, I make the same breakfast for her again; dish it out with her smiling, only this time, I knew where she wants me.

Back under her, she sits while taking a big spoonful of egg; she makes satisfied chewing sounds.

PRRRrrrrrrrppppppp!

She sighs, lifting up slightly as I turn and take in all the fresh air I can, while I can before...

She sits again; sealing me in her crack with all the worst of her smells. I making gaping, gasping breathing sounds; gurgling and choking underneath her as she continues to scarf down the breakfast I made for her.

Finally, she finishes; she sighs, content from her eating, "That was simply delicious, slave. Did you enjoy it as well?"

She lifts up off me, I open my mouth to answer...

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrppppppppppp!

But she rips a massive, egg smelling fart right in my face and immediately sits down again.

"It's okay, I know you did."

I gasp and gulp like a fish out of water, taking in her gas like a drowning man about to breathe.

I feel my head grow light, the fumes invading my nostrils with such potent force...and I pass out.

 

I wake with a startle, jumping slightly. I'm still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor near the chair; it's dark outside, the house is quiet.

I walk to the foyer; Shelly's light is on upstairs.

Upstairs, at her door, I see her, sitting on the bed; I walk in.

"Mistress, do you need anything?" I ask.

She looks up, she seems perplexed.

"I'm sorry I was out so long."

"Oh, it's okay...um...no, I'm fine...you can...I don't know, whatever you'd like."

That seemed odd, but who was I to question a break, "Okay, Mistress; you can yell for me, if you need me."

"Thanks."

 

Things seemed odd with Shelly; I wanted to make her feel better. Wait, what? This bitch farted on my fucking face and accused me of rape! Why would I want to make her feel better? But...I don't know, something...I think I might...love her. And, I mean, if I'm stuck here anyways...still, I'm her slave; she'd never love me back.

Maybe if I did things around the house; I'll cook and clean, whatever I need to do. I'll care for them like they are my own family; maybe that would show her I'm more than just a person she owns for life. I can be a lover.

So that's what I do; I keep the house in order. I have tea with Lexie one afternoon, wearing a dress. No one ordered me to do it; it just seemed right for a tea party; and it was a gorgeous shade of purple. Love it.

Shelly saw from the doorway, I looked to her in a bit of shock. She smiled and disappeared down the hall.

 

Then I didn't see Shelly at all. And as the day got later, I decide to check her bedroom.

There she is, sitting on the bed; she looks up, seeing me.

"Keith, come here."

It had been a while since I heard my name...it sounds weird. I walk over to Shelly.

"Yes, Mistress?"

She laughs as if she's been crying, "You can stop that; it's okay. I just wanted to say, I'm sorry; you can leave whenever you want. Here."

She takes a key and uses it on the shackles, they drop with a hard metal thump.

She forces a smile, then looks down at the floor.

I look at her for a moment. Then I turn to leave.

But I stop.

"Is she my daughter?" I never thought I'd say that sentence in my life; it feels so foreign, so wrong when the biggest question I ever wanted to ask was 'Is this my bag' at the Del Taco counter.

She doesn't look up from the ground, "No. It's Brad's. Some football ass; he offered to pay for an abortion."

I don't know what to say...and she's silent again.

"Uh...I'm...I'm not really ready to take care of a kid."

"Oh no, I wasn't asking...no, I understand," she sits quietly but I know she's crying.

I look at her, sitting there, I want to help her so bad; even after everything she did to me, I still care for her. Maybe it was because of everything she did to me.

"I'll stick with you, Shelly."

"Keith, don't...if you don't want to, if you can't..."

"I want to Shelly; I don't know if I can...but I will try, for you."

Shelly tears up, "Why, why would you love me after all I did to you?"

I smile slightly, "Would you have done any of it if you hadn't loved me?"

She smiles too, crying now. I sit down next to her and we embrace, holding each other tight as we fall back on her bed.

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