Babysitting The Brat

Veronica sat in her quiet house, restless. She picked up the phone and ordered a sitter, telling the service that the girl at the address was willful and needed a firm hand. When she hung up she smiled, already picturing the evening she’d arranged. Emma arrived ready for a child and found only Veronica, an adult lounging in the doorway with a list of rules. The page read like a joke—food stays off the furniture, no backtalk, and under no circumstances any lesbian behavior. Every rule carried the same punishment: a spanking. Emma needed the work. She swallowed her surprise and accepted. Veronica started testing her immediately, leaving crumbs on the couch, talking back, brushing fingers against Emma’s thigh on the way past. Each slip earned another firm smack over the knee. Emma’s palm stung; Veronica’s breath came quicker after every strike. By midnight the slaps had turned into caresses. Veronica’s shorts slid down, Emma’s hand slipped between smooth thighs, and the so-called sitter’s fingers worked inside the blonde until the room filled with the wet sound of it. They moved together on the couch they were never supposed to dirty, skin flushed, the last of the rules forgotten.