An Unexpected Nanny. Constance Masters

       “I’ll manage,” he said. He unzipped his jeans and shifted her panties to the side. “There now, give me that sweet thing.”

       “Yes,” she whimpered as she felt him slide all the way inside her. She rocked gently, savoring his every move. He sucked and nibbled at her neck. Vi knew she would be marked but at that moment all it did was urge her on. “Oh, Hunter, baby,” she cried.

       “Move your pussy faster.” He dug his fingers into her ass cheeks and bounced her up and down, showing her the pace he wanted. “That’s it,” he said as she quickened her pace.

       “Do you like that?”

       Hunter knew how to show her how much he loved her, and she wanted in turn to please him. “Uh huh, baby, just like that.” He slapped her ass cheeks and pushed deeper into her. “Yes, baby, you know what I like.”

       She clung to him, no longer in control as he fucked her hard. He was trembling, and she knew he was close. “Hunter!” she called out as she felt him fill her. Then he’d held her tightly, while she rested her head on his shoulder, savoring the last few minutes of their fun.

       “Hmm,” he said happily. “It’s late, will you be in trouble?”

       “Maybe,” she said with a giggle, “but it was worth it.”

       “I better take you home.”

      It never occurred to her that Hunter wasn't as concerned with pleasing her as she was with him. Not that Vi didn't get her own pleasure, she did but more than that, she got what she really needed at the time. She got to escape her miserable existence and Hunter held her— he made her feel wanted. Sooner or later though, she always had to go home and face the music.

       “Are you going to be okay?” Hunter asked.

       “I’ll be fine.” She would. It wasn’t the first time she’d faced her stepfather’s wrath and it wouldn’t be the last. It didn’t last forever, and it was the price she had to pay for a short time of freedom. Still, anxiety built with each of the steps Vi took towards the front door. When she got to the last step the door was flung open to reveal her stepfather and he wasn’t happy. The first thing she noticed was his pants had no belt and the second that his hand was behind his back, hiding what was obvious.

       “What have I told you about that boy?” he hissed, as she stood stock still in the doorway.

       “Not to see him,” she said, her whisper so quiet it was almost silent. Vi hated that voice, the meek, invisible one that barely escaped from her lips when she answered him. Why couldn’t she be brave and stand up for herself?

       “And yet, here you are, creeping in like an alley cat coming back for its dinner. Well, it won’t be dinner you’ll be getting, my girl. Get yourself upstairs and wait for me.”

       “No, Daddy,” she said quietly. She hated calling him Daddy more than she hated her simpering voice. Daddy was a name earned by a well-loved child. “Please, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

       “The fact you don’t recognize your sin makes it even worse.” He looked at her with disgust. “Get upstairs.”

       She didn't argue but instead decided to try and outrun him. She darted through the door, but as she passed him the belt cracked across the back of her legs hard. “Ow,” she squealed. “Daddy, no!” He had her arm and as the door slammed shut she knew she was in for more of the same.

       “I won't have a daughter of mine out doing God knows what with boys.”

       The belt kept swinging as she danced around him, trying to get away from the burning leather.

      She lay in bed that night, her nightie hiked up to her waist so the cool air from the open window could blow over her and cool her welts. Vi had tried to think of what was worse, the belt or the hatred that the man that wielded it had for her. She couldn’t decide. All she knew was she had to get out of there.

       As it turned out, weeks later the choice was made for her.

       “You’re pregnant aren’t you, Viola?”

       Cold fear washed over Vi and she was unable to speak. She was pretty certain her mother was correct in her assumption but had put off even acknowledging the possibility. Her stepfather would kill her, and Hunter had broken up with her the week before. He told her he wanted a girlfriend who was allowed to go to prom. The sneaking around wasn’t fun anymore.

       “Answer me, girl!”

       “I… I don’t know.”

       Her mother produced a test. “Go and pee on this stick. I’ll be waiting right here.”

       There was no indication on her mother’s face of what she planned to do if the test was positive. As for her, she wasn’t even sure she was ready to know one way or the other. Still, she took the stick and walked to the bathroom like a person on their way to the gallows.

       When she emerged with the stick in her hand, her mother did something she never thought she would do. She cried. “How could you? Have you seen how hard my life is? I didn't want you to be saddled with a baby while you’re still in your teens.”

       “We don’t have to tell Daddy.”

       “He’s the one that suspected it. He bought the test.”

       Vi slumped onto the bed. “He’ll kill me,” she said.

       “No, he says that you will stay inside this house until you’ve had the baby. We will raise the baby as our own. Nobody has to know.”

       “No,” Vi said. For the first time since she suspected she was pregnant, Vi felt an overwhelming urge to protect her baby. “I will not let that man anywhere near my child.”

       Her mother scoffed. The softer side already gone. “What other choice do you have? Do you want everyone in the church, in the neighborhood, to know what kind of girl you’ve become?”

       “If they want to judge me like that, then I don't care what they think,” Vi said. “Don’t you worry about me; I’ll do this on my own.”

       “No, you won’t,” her mother said. “He won’t let you.”

       “He can’t stop me and neither can you.”

       “I don’t want to stop you. Do you think I want to spend the next eighteen years raising another bastard child? You can stay with your grandmother.”

       The words surprisingly didn’t even sting. Her mind was hung up on what could only be described as hope. Hope that would only come in the form of her beloved grandma. “Do you think she’ll let me?”

       “Yes, but you won't be able to come back here, and I can’t help you financially, you’re on your own now, my girl. You better just hope she can afford to feed you.”

       “Okay.” She didn’t want any of her mother’s money or anything else she had to offer. Especially when anything her mother owned came from him. Just lead me to