Bimbo Babysitter [Mind Control / Sinister Stepford / Bimbofication / Breeding] - Menoetes

Bimbo Babysitter

The wrought iron gates loomed taller than any Sophia had ever stood beneath. They suggested security, but also power. Ivy curled through the metal like it had grown there for generations, as if even plants had pedigrees in this neighborhood. Beyond them, the drive slithered toward a house that didn’t just sit on the hill—it ruled it.

Sophia adjusted the strap of her tote and took a breath. She didn’t belong here. That thought looped in her mind like a broken record. Her scuffed flats crunched on the gravel as she approached the callbox. Her fingers hovered.

“Just press it, dammit.”

She wasn’t timid, not really. Just careful. She’d avoided the traps so many freshmen fell for—no parties, no useless electives, no debt for things she didn’t absolutely need.

Babysitting some silver spoon-fed nepo-baby for a couple of disgustingly rich socialites? That, she needed if she wanted to pay her way through college.

Still, her eyes darted around as if someone might scold her. The neighborhood was a parade of privilege: white stone walls, manicured hedges shaped like chess pieces, and not a single car older than three years. Even the silence felt expensive.

She caught her reflection in the polished brass intercom.

Homely. That’s how her aunt Diane often described Sophia. Pretty, but like a daisy—bland, forgettable beside the roses. Brown hair in a no-nonsense braid, minimal makeup. A beige cardigan, a pleated skirt that reached past her knobby knees. Bony hips, pale skin, no curves to speak of, hidden beneath unflattering layers.

If her cousins were blossoming into young womanhood, Sophia remained a stunted weed.

But she was there out of a steely sense of resolve. And resentment. Resentment at the ignominious fate of spending her late teens and early twenties accruing student debt.

She exhaled and pressed the button.

Static. Then a sultry voice purred, “Yes?”

Sophia straightened. “Hi. Um—hello. My name is Sophia Mendel. I’m here about the babysitting position?”

A pause. “Of course, Sophia. Come on up the drive. We’ve been expecting you.”

The gates whirred open.

Sophia stepped forward. The house was three stories of sprawling grandeur, all cream stucco and French windows, framed by climbing roses in full bloom. The lawns and manicured gardens were immaculate.

She could do this.

The ad had been posted on a campus job board. A powder-pink sheet with fancy curling font that caught the eye. It whispered of money. The hourly rate was absurd. A dozen hours per week could net Sophia a debt-free future.

As she passed into the shadow of a stone portico, the front door swung open.

“Sophia, welcome! Please do come inside, sweetie!”

The vision of beauty greeting Sophia was not what she expected.

She’d imagined someone older, more refined. Clutching pearls. Hosting garden parties. But this woman looked fresh from a fitness shoot, with her glowing skin, slender limbs, sumptuous curves and glossy amber hair piled in a stylish quaff.

She was lean, stunning, and... young. Perhaps only a year or two older than Sophia's eighteen years.

A barely-legal knock-out attired in a short tennis skirt and crop top which clung to her covergirl figure, exposing a swath of toned midriff. White sneakers with a slight wedge heel and frilly socks completed the country club look. An elaborate gold necklace glinted at her throat, dragging the eye to her sumptuous chest with the inevitable pull of a gravity well.

Sophia froze, suddenly stricken by feelings of inadequacy.

“Yes–uh, hi,” she said. “Sorry. I thought I’d be meeting, um, someone older. Mrs. Hapsburg?”

“Bless your heart. I get that all the time. And yes, I’m Adrianna Hapsburg. Come in, sweetie!”

Sophia hesitated, then stepped inside. The foyer was twice the size of her dorm suite—marble floors, a chandelier, faint scents of citrus and lavender.

Adrianna shut the door. “You’re right on time. I was playing a few sets with Hubby dearest. He has so much energy these days. It’s tough to keep up, but what can a girl do?”

She shrugged with a coy smile before strutting forward, her hips swaying sensually.

Sophia’s brain snagged on Hubby dearest. Adrianna didn’t look old enough to rent a car, much less be married or own this extravagant home.

Adrianna glanced back. “You okay, sweetie? You look like someone dumped cold water on you.”

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Sophia said quickly. “I just didn’t expect… I mean, you’re very… young.”

Adrianna laughed. “Aren’t you a doll? Thank you, but I’m older than you think. Healthy living and a positive attitude, that’s my secret. We girls must always put on our best face for our menfolk, no?”

That last part hit Sophia in the chest.

Best face…

Adrianna had nothing to fear there. She was sculpted perfection. Smooth skin, high cheekbones, kissable lips—airbrushed into existence. A modelesque beauty like her wouldn’t have been out of place on a yacht cruising the Mediterranean. Her hoarfrost blue eyes rimmed with thick lashes were almost too much.

Sophia could lose herself in them.

“Sweetie, you’re staring,” Adrianna teased. “I must look a fright after tennis.” Not a hair was out of place.

“Now, I know you’re dying to see the nursery—what woman wouldn’t? But alas, my precious lamb is sleeping.” She sighed dramatically. “Instead, let us adjourn to my parlor and discuss renumeration, responsibilities, and the terms of your employment.”

“T-terms?” Sophia blinked. “Beg pardon? I’m only here for an interview—”

“Of course you are, sweetie!” Adrianna linked arms with her. “And you’re doing fine. What are you studying?”

“Early childhood education.”

“Wonderful! Teaching is a respectable role for an unattached young lady. Come now. I’ll give you the tour, then tea. If you’re still interested.”

Sophia nodded, clutching her tote tighter.

Still interested?

If Sophia could earn even a whiff of the abject wealth on display, she’d be committed.

---

“This is Hubby’s smoking room.” Adrianna pushed open a heavy oak door, and a different world unfolded before Sophia. “You will not enter unless invited.”

The room was drenched in masculinity. From the rich, wood-paneled walls to the burnished leather wingback chairs gathered near the fireplace, every inch had been crafted to project old-world refinement.

The fireplace, carved from sandstone with a mantle the color of aged bone, housed smoldering embers. Above it, a portrait hung in a gilded frame featuring an older man with tugsten gray eyes, a swarthy build, and a sly smirk.

Sophia took a tentative step inside. The air was infused with scents she couldn’t quite place—cigar smoke clinging to the drapes, a trace of brandy, leather polish, and something else… something heady, primal. A musk. Subtle, but undeniable.

It should have been off-putting. And yet, something about the smell pulled at her. Soothing, nostalgic.

Then she saw the hunting trophies.

A stag’s head, antlers sprawling like a crown. A boar’s snuffling snout. The glassy eyes of a fox caught mid-snarl. Dozens of them. Frozen expressions of animals long since silenced, their deaths mounted as macabre décor.

Sophia’s stomach twisted. She quickly looked away, willing her features to remain neutral.

However, Adrianna noticed.

“Your reticence is understandable; they scared me at first, too. You get used to them after a while,” she rolled her eyes, wrapping a supportive arm around Sophia’s waist. “Men and their trophies, am I right?”

Trophies… The word sparked a haptic tingle in Sophia’s brain.

Adrianna was a trophy. A picture-perfect housewife who dressed like a country club member and played tennis all day and called strangers “sweetie.” She didn’t have to worry about silly things like studying or paying the rent.

Sophia gave a weak laugh as her gaze slid back to the lion. There was something about it—too lifelike, too knowing. She pulled the cardigan closer around her skinny frame.

“Well,” Adrianna said, breezing toward the door, “you won't spend much time in here, anyway. Unless you’re a fan of boring business talk and taxidermy.”

“Not especially,” Sophia murmured, following her into the corridor. “What does your husband do, besides hunting big game?”

“Hubby mostly complains about inflation when he isn’t acting as the research executive for Grayson-Nixon pharmaceutical. He’s something of a genius. The luckiest day of my life was when he scooped me up and told me to be his.”

“He… told you? Just like that?”

“Oh yes, sweetie. Real men–powerful men don’t dither or question. They command.” Adrianna waxed nostalgically, her hoarfrost eyes misting. “I was like you once, steeped in the foolish notions the self-proclaimed adherents of progressivism ****-feed us. Then Mr Right walked in off the street and poof! None of it mattered anymore.”

Sophia frowned; something about that felt wrong, though she couldn't pinpoint what exactly. “Walked in off the street?”

“That’s the funniest part.” Adrianna giggled. It sounded nice. “I used to work at a diner. Can you believe it? Me. Slinging burgers. What was I thinking?”

That was funny. As the door closed behind them, Sophia allowed herself to giggle too. Felt good—a release of tension.

The aroma of musk and old smoke still clung faintly to her clothes as they moved on.

She couldn’t shake it off.

---

“Here we are. Much better than that stuffy smoking room, don’t you agree?”

The parlor was very… pink.

“I-I guess?” Sophia hazarded, blinking owlishly.

The parlor looked like someone had taken the inside of a jewelry box and expanded it into a full-sized room. Pink—soft, shimmering, deliberate—was everywhere in fuzzy layers. Chaise lounges, love seats with plush upholstery, and gauzy curtains that danced ever so slightly in the filtered light. Silver frames lined the walls, some displaying watercolors, others empty but no less ornate.

The air was heated, liberally perfumed with something herbal, intoxicating—a dizzy blend of rose, lavender, and something darker. The odor assaulted Sophia before she’d even entered the space. Classical music whispered from invisible speakers, as if the room itself sighed contentedly in the presence of company.

At the far end stood two tall, blonde women in French maid uniforms: short skirts, lace aprons, thigh-high stockings–almost too scanty to be practical. Their features were exquisite, their bodies toned yet imminently busty, like bikini models cast as domestic help.

They stood motionless, expressions unreadable as steam curled from a fine china tea set on a nearby table.

“This is my parlor,” Adrianna said with a small smile, lingering in the doorway behind Sophia. “It’s where I come to relax. To be… reset.”

Sophia barely registered the words—her senses were overwhelmed by the scent, the softness, and the warmth. She stepped cautiously toward a pink velvet loveseat, but Adrianna was already beside her, hand at her elbow.

“Here,” she said, her voice lowering. “Sit. It’s designed to hold you just so.”

Sophia sank into the chair. The cushions were impossibly inviting, welcoming her like an old friend. She hadn’t realized how tired she was until her limbs settled onto the armrests. Her body responded instantly, growing leaden, her thoughts fraying around the edges.

Adrianna, perched on a chaise across from her, reached for the teapot.

The maids had not moved a muscle. Their faces blank. Barely breathing.

“You two can go now,” Adrianna said with a wave of her fingers. Her voice was light, but there was steel underneath. “Hubby dearest will want his scotch. Make sure you attend to him properly this time. He found last week’s performance… lacking.”

The maids bowed demurely, murmured, “Yes, ma’am,” before gliding from the room.

“Honestly,” Adrianna muttered, watching them leave. “They’re all so beautiful when they arrive. But it rarely lasts. That pair has maybe another six months before the shine wears off.”

Sophia blinked. The words registered slowly. She frowned, but said nothing.

Adrianna turned back to her with a smile that was too bright, too rehearsed. She poured the tea carefully, an amber red liquid that caught the light unnaturally.

“You look flushed,” she said, handing over the china cup. “Are you feeling alright?”

Sophia shook her head gently. “I mean—I’m not sick. Maybe a bit flustered. The chair, maybe. The smell…”

Adrianna tutted softly. “Oh, sweetheart. That’s just the air in here. You’re probably not accustomed to an atmosphere so... refined.”

She leaned in, her hoarfrost eyes narrowing.

“This will help,” Adrianna said, nodding to the tea. “Drink it. You’ll feel better. It’ll clear away the fog.”

Sophia hesitated. The cup was warm in her hands, grasped before she realized it. She brought the rim to her lips and sipped. The flavor was floral with an earthy undertone, sweet… too sweet.

Adrianna watched her drink with vulpine satisfaction.

“There,” she purred. “Much better. We like our girls to be amenable. Not jittery. Not distracted. Simply… acquiescent.”

Sophia blinked again. The heat in her chest spread outward. Her limbs were loose and comfortable, though her thoughts were too scrambled to digest. She tried to set the cup down but misjudged the distance, clipping the saucer.

Adrianna didn’t flinch. She kept smiling like a cat in a cage full of canaries.

“You’ll find,” she said, voice steamy and rich as the tea, “that things here work a little differently than you’re used to. But that’s alright. You’re adaptable. I could tell the moment you walked through the gate.”

Sophia opened her mouth to speak, though unsure what to say, but Adrianna stood, brushing invisible dust from her tennis skirt.

“Let’s begin the process, shall we?” she said brightly. “You’ll want to look your best before meeting my darling husband, no? First impressions are so important, sweetie.”

Sophia didn’t nod. Not exactly.

But she didn’t say no either.

---

The parlor was illuminated in the afternoon's golden light, air dense with floral incense and the faint music. Tasseled pillows spilled across the fainting couch where Sophia sat, her cheeks pink and thighs pressed modestly together.

Across the room, Adrianna stood before an open armoire. The interior was lined with lace, satin, and pastel silk, and each hanger held a more scandalous confection than the last. Adrianna hummed softly as she scrutinized a lavender crop top edged in frills.

“Oh, this one’s darling,” she mused, holding it up. “But will it show off your new figure enough?” She turned, eyes twinkling as she looked over Sophia again, gaze gliding slowly over the soft swell of her bust, the subtle but undeniable curve rounding out her hips.

New figure?

Sophia squirmed on the couch. Her clothes felt tight, unfamiliar. Her bra pinched. Her blouse gaped. Her skirt clung. Every breath felt weightier in her chest, her flesh flushed and tender as though her body was waking up in ways it never had before.

Adrianna selected a pale pink skirt—pleated, micro-mini, with a violet ribbon belting the waist. She held it up. “Mmm… this might be too flirty,” she said with a theatrical sigh. “But then again, why not enjoy looking delicious?”

Sophia bit her lip. The heat in her core was spreading, tingling through her thighs, fizzing beneath her breasts. The tea made everything feel soft and floaty, as though she were suspended in a dream.

A hot sticky dream where blood pooled in her slickening sex, dampening her plain panties.

“I used to be like you, once,” Adrianna said, glancing over her shoulder with a knowing smile. “So serious. So eager to prove myself. All that work, slaving away at a dead-end job, hoping to impress a deadbeat manager… it never made me feel wanted. Not really.”

She sauntered over, trailing the outfit in one hand. “And then I met my beloved husband.” Her voice dropped to a reverent whisper. “He saw through me, past the drab, busy girl I thought I had to be. He peeled it all away and showed me what I was meant to be. A woman. A wife.”

Adrianna sat beside Sophia, so close their knees touched. She placed the skimpy skirt in Sophia’s lap, slowly brushing it with delicate fingers. Fingers that were dangerously close to another place that yearned to be stroked.

“He taught me to let go. To stop chasing and start receiving. I don’t worry about serving stinky customers anymore. Or choices. Or ‘making something of myself.’ I already am something–I’m His. I love, support, and serve my Man so he, in turn, can strive for greatness. His success is my success. My value is derived from His accomplishments. His pleasure is my reward.”

Her voice was honeyed, melodic, hypnotic. Sophia’s thoughts felt distant, slippery. Her body was heavy and drunk with sensation. Her breasts were somehow fuller, pushing insistently at her bra. Her waist cinched like it was circled by invisible hands, hips flaring outward. Her pussy ached, thighs churning. She squirmed again.

Adrianna’s hand found her leg and gently squeezed it, sliding beneath the bunched skirt.

“Isn’t it freeing, sweetie? To imagine yourself as His girl? A perfect servile doll. Pregnant and pampered. No pressure. No plans. Just pretty dresses and womanly duties.”

Sophia’s mouth opened slightly, as if to protest, but only a tiny, breathy sound came out.

Adrianna leaned closer, moist lips brushing the shell of Sophia’s ear as manicured fingers traced the gusset of her panties. “You don’t really want to spend your life writing term papers and sucking up to crusty old professors, do you? Not when you could be glowing and adored… dancing in the kitchen with a happy baby bump…”

Sophia whimpered, legs snapping shut and trapping Adrianna’s wrist before she could venture into forbidden territory.

Virgin territory.

“You shouldn’t… You can’t…” Oh God, what was happening? Sophia’s body burned like a forest fire, consuming her ability to reason in an inferno of sensual stimuli. “I’m not… this isn’t… something’s wrong–”

“Nothing is wrong, sweetie. Your responses are well within expectations. You’re doing fine.” Adrianna cooed, pulling back just enough to proffer the teensy crop top with her free hand. “Let’s see how this looks on you. After all, we must ensure you’re done when He summons you…”

Done, she said it like Sophia was a roast dinner, not someone seeking gainful employment.

Her icy gaze drilled into Sophia’s spinning skull like augers. The sudden humidity prickled her itchy skin. The pervasive perfume and gently insistent music saturated everything.

She couldn’t…

She shouldn’t…

But under those mesmerizing hoarfrost eyes, Sophia floundered, lost at sea in the heart of winter.

---

Sophia stood stiffly at the center of the room, half-dressed, half-aware, garbed only in her ill-fitting underwear, bare feet sinking into the white shag carpet.

She didn’t understand how matters had reached this point. Sophia was cripplingly body-shy and would never expose herself before a complete stranger. But Adrianna was insistent. Charismatic. Gorgeous. It seemed best to do as she said.

The stifling room didn’t help, fogged with a wealth of saccharine sweetness. Every breath sheared away another layer of resistance. Dissolved another battery of concerns.

The heat from the tea still roiled in Sophia’s center, dripping into her nethers, which dripped in turn. Her panties were a soiled misery.

Adrianna circled Sophia like a predator, a measuring tape looped around her neck, her elegant fingers occasionally caressing Sophia’s sweaty skin or adjusting her posture. Each touch carried sparks, imparting exquisite shivers.

“Let’s try lingerie next,” she said, plucking a matching bra and thong from a drawer. “I think the ruffles will look just adorable on those new hips of yours.”

Sophia shivered. Her hips had changed, hadn’t they? Curvier. Lusher. She wavered momentarily, on the verge of divesting herself of what modesty yet remained, then folded like a cocktail napkin.

Complying was simply… easier.

Adrianna made it easy with her melodic voice and entrancing eyes. Losing the constraining bra was a relief, though Sophia gasped upon peeling off her wet panties, taking her short thatch of public hair with it, and air kissed her naked folds.

The sensation was so sharp, so unexpected, she came on the spot. A brief but toe-curling orgasm rocketed through Sophia, squirting juices that polished her slender thighs.

“Good girl. Good girl.” Adrianna purred, running two fingers through Sophia’s quivering cleft, making her mewl like a kitten. “You’re coming along nicely. There’s pleasure in obedience, see? Whole galaxies of bliss. This is only the tiniest taste. Now get dressed, sweetie.”

The high-cut thong Adrianna squeezed her into hugged tightly, as though the rest of her body had swollen. She could feel her pulse between her sodden thighs as the silky fabric slid up her long, long legs—uncomfortably aware of her sensitive skin and heaving breaths.

“Why am I... why am I even doing this?” She burbled, voice barely audible, glassy eyes fixed on her reflection. The mirror showed a girl starting to pout coquettishly when she wasn’t speaking, whose lashes fluttered too much when she blinked. Her hair had lengthened and lightened into a caramel blonde without her noticing. Rosy gloss shimmered on her plumper lips. “This isn’t me…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Adrianna’s voice dripped with condescension, resting a dainty hand on Sophia’s bare shoulder, and leaning in close enough to kiss. “Of course it’s you. It’s just a better version of you. A softer, sweeter, prettier you. One who doesn’t think or question and knows her place. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Sophia shivered. Something in her stomach coiled and seethed. Her cheeks burned with shame—and something else she didn’t want to name.

Behind the walls, somewhere deep in the house, came a dull, rhythmic thudding. It started in slow pulses, quickening like a heartbeat. The sound of a headboard pounding into drywall. Accompanying it were faint, animalistic sounds. Feminine cries. Masculine grunting. The unholy rhythm of carnal sin.

Her nipples stiffened under the bra she hadn’t realized had been clipped on. The pastel pink cups lifted her enlarged tits just so. The mirror showed her looking bubbly. Flushed. Slightly dazed. Almost doll-like.

Nonononono~

“You’re doing sooo well,” Adrianna cooed, dragging her lacquered nails lightly down Sophia’s spine. “My darling hubby is going to be thrilled with the progress we’ve made. I mean, look at you. You’re practically ovulating for him.”

Ovulating.

The idea that she might be fertile, biologically primed to reproduce–to be bred by a strong, virile man sent another short burst of explosive bliss through Sophia’s virgin body. A split-second climax that felt like a prelude of bigger, more mind-melting ecstasies to come… or was that cum?

Hot little cummies for hot little mommies.

Sophia’s breath caught. “I’m not—this isn’t—”

“Shhhh...” Adrianna whispered, and there was honest excitement in her voice. “He’s going to be so pleased with you. Trust the process.”

She blinked, momentarily distracted by the distant thumping noise.

Thud!

Thud!

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A feminine shriek, muffled but unmistakable, resounded throughout the house, tapering into breathless laughter. Something inside Sophia crumbled, toppling like a sand castle before an inexorable tide. Her last dregs of reservation disintegrated—not with a scream but a breathy sigh.

She whimpered, grinding her slick thighs.

Adrianna clapped her hands, delighted. “Oh, I knew you’d be a natural. Let’s try the heels next, sweetie. We’ll need to teach you how to walk properly.”

---

Sophia tottered behind Adrianna like a wind-up toy, all wobbly ankles and glossy lips, her body buzzing with every step she took in her ridiculous glass stilettos. The heels were so high—so stupidly high—they made her sway like a stripper on stage, her hips swivelling wildly, tits jiggling under her barely-there top with each dainty click on the polished marble.

Her outfit was, like, super cute. Totally tight. Utterly… perfect.

The backless halter top was bubblegum-pink and paper-thin, stretched sinfully across her big bouyant tits. The deep V of the neckline plunged almost to her sternum, each wobble of her walk threatening to spill them out entirely. A rhinestone tag sparkled on the choker circling her throat.

It read: "SWEETIE"

The gaudy fabric rubbed her, in the best-worst way—gentle as a kiss, but also clingy. It felt like her slutty top was licking her nipples, and she was too braindead to stop enjoying it.

Her skirt—oh God, her skirt—was even worse. The glossy, candy-pink latex number was barely long enough to hide the taut hemispheres of her butt. It hugged her new hips like a second skin, creaking with every exaggerated step.

Every inch of her felt shiny, hot, and ridiculous. But when Adrianna looked over her shoulder and smiled—that luminous, cryptic smile—Sophia could only blush, giggle, and try to walk even sexier.

The perky brunette had changed into a strappy black gown, which conformed to her dynamite figure like the darkest melted chocolate. The slinky number was ruched, with swooping neckline and long slit up the thigh to bare plenty of her flawless, toned flesh.

She didn’t totter in her four-inch knife-heels–she glided.

“You're doing so well, sweetie. Just like I taught you.” Adrianna’s voice was pure sugar, full of wicked promise. “Look at that strut!"

Sophia gasped softly, lips puckered into a pout. “R-Really? You think He’s gonna… like me?”

Her voice came out soft and silly, girlish and high-pitched. She twirled a lock of platinum-blonde hair around a shaky finger, trying not to trip.

Adrianna laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, He doesn’t ‘like.’ He takes. My darling hubby is a man’s man—brilliant, powerful, hungry. He’s the kind of man who owns pretty playthings. You’re not here to be liked.” She pressed in close, her moist lips brushing Sophia’s ear. “You’re here to serve.”

Sophia moaned under her breath, her pussy throbbing in anticipation.

As they approached the wide corridor at the end of the hall, the air thickened, somehow growing heavier as the heady musk returned. The walls seemed to close in, as if they too were holding their breath.

“Yes… yeeeeesss~!”

A muffled squeal from behind the smoking room door.

Then deep grunts followed by a low, breathless moan. Then a slap, and another cry—feminine, ruined, euphoric. There was fucking happening in there. Wild, unapologetic, bitch-breaking sex.

Sophia’s mouth sagged open. Her legs nearly buckled.

“Hmmm… sounds like He’s punishing the help.” Adrianna kept walking, hips rocking like a metronome. “Don’t pout, sweetie, your time’s coming. He always leaves room for dessert.”

Sophia giggled helplessly, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and empty. “I-I wanna be dessert…”

Adrianna patted her athletic ass fondly.

“You already are, sweetie. Just the delectable little treat he craves after a long day of work. You’re perfect for him. Young, sexy, obedient…” Her fingertips traced along Sophia’s jaw. “And so very easy to train.”

Sophia moaned again. She couldn’t help it. Every word made her hornier. Needier. Her pussy was soaked, brain dissolving into warm, pink foam.

As they reached the door, the fucking behind it rose to a crescendo. A muffled scream, a grunted command, the unmistakable rhythm of dominance and surrender.

Adrianna placed a hand on the heavy brass handle, turned it, then poked her head in. She looked back at Sophia, frosty blue eyes gleaming.

“He’s ready for you now, sweetheart. Let’s show him how well his new babysitter performs.”

With that, Adrianna flung the door open. A wave of manly odor practically bowled Sophia over. She staggered under the sensual ****. Smoke, fine liquor, and raw sex enveloping her. Potent and unapologetic. Seeping into her nubile flesh and stinging her eyes.

“That’s right. Take it! Take my hard dick, you bimbo cunt. Beg for it!”

“Sir… Yaaa! Yes, sir! Please, sir… Aaaah!”

The scene within was as depraved as it was shocking.

The same man from the painting over the mantle had one of the blonde maids bent over a vast walnut writing desk, her frilly skirt flipped up and stunning face shoved into the leather topper. Naked but for an unbuttoned business shirt, he plowed wailing beauty from behind with brutal thrusts.

Sophia stared dumbly at the chiseled muscle on his rippling torso, layered in a dense thicket of chest hair. He was, like, totally ripped for an older guy. A testosterone-fueled sex machine. Each blow of his pelvis shook the weighty desk and would have sent the noisy maid flying if not for his beefy fist locked around her neck.

Another hot blonde was sprawled insensate on a leather lounge, her skimpy uniform in tatters as though savaged by a pack of feral hounds. She moaned weakly, exposed breasts glowing with angry welts while yummy cum oozed from her battered snatch to puddle on the polished upholstery.

Cum… His cum…

Sophia had never smelled semen before, but this strong, studly Man’s pungent aroma made her drool. Gosh! She wanted to roll in it, bathe in it, lick up every gooey drop, and plead for more.

There was an abundance of sticky spunk coating the passed-out maid’s face, tangling her golden tresses, pooling in her superb cleavage…

“Darling!” Adrianna’s delighted voice snapped Sophia from her dreamy state. “I brought the new babysitter for your approval. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

The enchanting brunette positively danced across the room, graceful as a ballerina, pressing close to her husband’s side and peppering adoring kisses on his bearded cheek.

She was soooo~ lucky to be married to a shredded mega-hunk. Sophia simply stood there, giggling and swishing her fat knockers side to side like a nervous schoolgirl.

“Good timing, hon.” He growled, hammering the howling help. “This slut… is almost… cooked!”

"MAAAASTERRRR~!” The blonde screamed, spasming climactically as Adrianna’s handsome hubby hilted himself and erupted.

Her spine arched and muscles convulsed in a picturesque performance of rapturous gratification. Instinctively, Sophia realized the display was wholly for His pleasure—a show of appreciation and subservience to Him.

She was gagging for her turn.

Panting like a blown horse, Sophia watched as the Man tossed the gurgling maid aside and settled into a high-backed chair. The cum-drunk bimbo landed in a boneless heap, already forgotten, as Adrianna slid onto his lap, precisely where she belonged.

Sophia’s gut twisted with envy, her empty pussy yearned to filled by the meaty member jutting above the edge of the desk. Adrianna smirked knowingly at her, smugly stroking His girthy length.

“Another blonde, huh?” He said, barely glancing at Sophia, rummaging in a drawer. “Don’t know why you keep making them blonde, hon. She’s had complete treatment?”

Making them… Sophia’s skull buzzed with that strange haptic tingle again, but she shook it off.

“Naturally, darling. You burn through them rather quickly, and I’m your autumn wifey.” Adrianna husked, nuzzling her handsome husband’s neck. “Once we’ve fashioned a summer blonde who can endure your forceful presence, I’ll create a springtime redhead or some… body more exotic for winter to slake your tireless passions.”

Sophia trembled, falling to her knees, desperately hoping the aforementioned body would be hers. Her insides felt hollow as she salivated over His massive prick.

That super-duper, virginity-busting, uber-dick, which Adrianna was pumping so brilliantly, perfectly poised and beautiful in his lap like a showgirl demonstrating the latest model of top-tier baby makers.

“Eh, doesn’t seem like you left her much in the brains department, hon.” Mr Hunky Fuckstud shrugged nonchalantly, producing a plastic pescription bottle and tearing the lid off with his teeth. “You want that looking after our kid. I wouldn’t trust her with a rubber band, much less a baby. Look, she’s touching herself already.”

Huh. She was?

Sophia glanced down to discover she totally was.

Without even realizing it, her hands had crept under her crazy-short skirt to tease her needy clitty. She was kneeling, legs splayed and chest out, jilling her puss-puss like a stupid skank in front of the hottest, bestest married couple ever.

Sophia would have been mortified if she wasn’t cumming so hard.

”HYAAAIII~!”

Merely existing in His proximity was overwhelming. Her electrified body screamed to be squeezed. To be groped. To be roughly used and abused. To be claimed by this cunt-splitting avatar of machismo…

“She could make a fine wet nurse,” Adrianna suggested, winking at her strapping hubby. “With a little help from you, darling dearest. Why not sample the tasty lil’ morsel? If you don’t like her, we can always find another. I’ll keep her somewhere out of the way until you need a handy cocksleeve to vent your frustration.”

“Worth a shot, I guess.” The ultra-hung Adonis grumbled, knocking back a fistful of pills with a tumbler of brandy. “Come here, girl. Let’s take a proper look at you.”

Unable to stand, Sophia crawled. Awkward as a three-legged dog with a hand still buried in her sodden snatch, she scrambled closer, reeled in by an invisible leash.

Adrianna’s husband lounged in the office chair, muscular frame barely contained by the leather upholstery. His languid posture broadcasted disinterest as he watched Sophia approach, that thick, veiny pussy-pounder glistening from his previous conquests. The air was rich with dominance, a palpable **** that made Sophia’s breath hitch.

“Well, well,” He rumbled, deep and gravelly, sending shivers down Sophia’s spine. “She can follow basic instructions. Not a bad start.”

Adrianna perched on his knee, her lithe figure draped against him like a villainous cat. She combed fingers through his beard, her grin sharp as she watched Sophia squirm.

“She’s my gift to you, darling. A pretty plaything to unwind with.”

Sophia’s cheeks burned with a mix of shame and arousal as she finally reached their feet. Her hand left her pussy to splat onto the floor in front of her, her head bowed in submission. She could feel His gaze on her, stripping her bare, assessing her worth.

“Look at me.” He commanded.

Her unfocused gaze snapped up, and she felt her resolve crumble. His aura was all-consuming, a tidal wave of primal physicality that left her gasping for breath. His anvil of a jaw, His mountain of a chest, that glorious spunk-bubbling fuckshaft—every part of Him threatened to consume her.

“What’s your name, girl?” He asked, tone casual but laced with authority.

“S-Sophia,” she stammered, voice trembling.

“Sophia,” He repeated, only breaking eye contact to seize Adrianna's lips in a ravenous kiss. “Are you ready to serve me? To submit yourself entirely to me as Master?”

She nodded frantically, her platinum locks bouncing with the motion. “Yes, sir. I… I’m super excited to serve. I’ll submit… please…”

“See, darling? I’ve brought you a perfect little bimbo doll.” Adrianna murmured, squirming eagerly when His hands slid under her silky gown. They were big as catcher’s mitts, grasping her lissome figure possessively. “Go on, sweetie. Show him what a good girl you’ve become.”

Good girl…

Sophia moaned, low and guttural, the phrase triggering a visceral, pussy-clenching response. Dragging herself between his legs, she stared in drooling stupification at the towering monument that was her new Master’s indomitable dick.

It twitched and lurched, spurting a stray glob of manseed across Sophia’s cheek. The smell was beyond intoxicating. Ambrosia. Completely irresistible. She inhaled deeply, then dove in, mouth first.

A flavor explosion blitzed her tastebuds, overloading them with salt and musk.

He was big. Sophia’s slobbering lips stretched wide to accommodate her studly Master’s jaw-creaking girth. She hadn’t gone this far with a boy before, nowhere near, and after this baptism in erotic fire, never would.

Sophia belonged to a Real Man now–a thousand percent spoken for mind, heart, and soul.

She could feel it in the physiological responses lighting up her neural pathways, nerve centers, and feverish flesh. Every part of her was being streamlined. Simplified. Smelted down to her purest, basest self by the scrummy, supersized cock ravishing her tonsils, incinerating any extraneous elements.

”Mmmmnnph!”

Worries about her future, her degree and its burdensome debt were the first to wash away like suds down a drain, directly into Sophia’s shiny tits.

They bulged and swelled as she gagged and swallowed her face-fucking Master’s deluge of delectable seed, filling the flimsy top to overflowing. Two heavy, gravity-defying teardrops capped in rubbery pink nipples aching to be pinched, fighting free.

“Does she please you, hubby?” Adrianna asked, resting a hand on Sophia’s suckling skull. “The poor thing is young. Inexperienced. A virgin, in fact. I wouldn’t dream of sully our household with used goods. She’s extremely pliable, though. With suitable training and your guidance…”

“Pipe down, woman. Can’t you see I’m busy? We’ll discuss brass tacks later.”

“Apologies, darling. Here, allow me to instruct the silly girl in the proper way to service you.”

Sophia’s years of education went next.

College and high school classes, vacuumed out of her increasingly smooth brain to turbo-charge her reproductive system. Math, literature, and modern history evaporated like steam as Adrianna shoved Sophia’s mewling mouth deeper down Master’s immensity.

She shuddered and shook, unraveling around his domineering dick. Not even touching herself as his magical cum reshaped her, landing like an atom bomb in her shrinking stomach.

“That’s better…” Master grunted. “She’s getting hotter. Almost good enough to fuck a baby into.”

Almost good enough!

Sophia’s pulsing pussy gushed at the possibility. She moaned reverently around her Master’s throat-plumbing prick, wracked by carnal shockwaves.

If she could last a moment longer, if she could **** down another few spurts of miracle cream, if she could submit more completely… Master might christen her virgin teen cunt.

The very notion of filling the clawing emptiness with a child–Master’s child plunged Sophia’s whole world into a rapturous spiral.

“Glmmnnff! Hmmmm!”

“Someone sounds excited.” Adrianna whispered in Sophia’s ear. “Good girls should be bred by their handsome masters. And obedient little babysitters should carry their masters’ babies, don't you think, sweetie?”

Good girl babysitters having babies?

That made sense. Adrianna was sooo smart. Like, totally correct and super awesome!

Sophia nodded dopely on Master’s gullet-plugging prong as cognitive processes evaporated to power her revved-up ovaries. Freely surrendered for a chance at motherhood.

She floated in a state of perpetual climax, one mind-bending orgasm landing before the previous subsided like a highway pile-up of sinful, squirting gratification.

Master was thoroughly fucking Sophia's snug throat, savagely stuffing her esophagus. She gulped and gurgled, her nose pressed against his pelvis, snorting his dizzying scent.

“She's ready. Get her on the desk, hon.” Master grunted, abruptly withdrawing with a sucking slurp. “I’m in the mood to sow some wild oats.”

Sophia felt rough hands tear off her slutty skirt and thong, then she was drifting like a blown leaf in a daze to land somewhere hard. Her legs were pried apart–not that she could have resisted–before something thick and stiff and hot slapped down on her flat stomach. It measured the length of Sophia’s tinyfied abdomen to prod her at copious underboob.

Master’s amazing cock!

“Jesus, you always make ‘em so skinny,” He grunted as Sophia basked in his heat and leaking seed. “Except for the tits. Look at those funbags. They’re goddamn huge.”

“All the better for feeding the litters of progeny you’ll plant in us, darling.” Adrianna cooed, shimmying out of her fancy gown to reveal the naked magnificence beneath. “You wouldn’t want me to suffer cracked nipples or saggy breasts. Besides, any milk I produce is solely for my wonderful hubby.”

She was a goddess.

Perfectly proportioned to steal a man’s soul with her lean lines, ripe contours, poreless complexion, and angelic beauty that a lifetime of rigorous exercise, starvation dieting, and a king’s fortune worth of cosmetic surgery couldn’t hope to replicate.

Simply gazing upon her radiance, plastered against Master’s rocky side, cast Sophia into fresh throes of urgent passion.

“Pleeeease… Pleeeeeease~!” She blubbered, bucking and thrashing under the scalding weight of His mighty fuckrod. “I need… neeeed it!”

“Stop torturing the poor girl, darling.” Adrianna murmured, nibbling Master’s ear. “Delay much longer, and she won’t retain enough basic functionality to serve as anything but a mindless fuckdoll.”

“That’s what I love about you, hon.” Master’s turgid tip slithered down towards Sophia’s greedy entrance. Her spine bowed, hips jerking with anticipation. “Always looking at the big picture. That eye on the prize mentality. This’ll have to be quick. I’ve got a teleconference in twenty.”

“We can take our time enjoying her together later.” Adrianna agreed, squishing her immaculate breasts around His beefy bicep. “Bless you, Hubby dearest. Thank you for indulging my foolish whims.”

“I got you, babe.”

Sophia screamed when Master split her sopping slit. Not in pain, as expected, but with ecstatic fulfillment. Her hymen was obliterated in a single stroke, sundered completely by His titanic cock, laying waste to her final bastion of innocence.

He stretched her to the ****. Crushing every hyper-sensitive nerve cluster and pleasure receptor with merciless thrusts into Sophia’s pristine womb. She was a weak, helpless thing in Master’s grasp. Utterly dwarfed by His subjugating strength and brutality. Speared deliriously upon His pussy-creaming totem to masculinity.

“M-m-master! Ooooh~... yes, Master! Yaaaaa! F-fuck me… use me!”

He stabbed at Sophia’s center, ringing her bell like a punch to the gut. She was buffeted by storm waves of euphoria, swamped in brain-numbing bliss. Her head grew light, stuffed with cotton candy and sweet little nothings, completely consumed by Master’s fiery passions.

“How does she feel, hubby?” Adrianna husked, riding His pistoning hips like a rodeo princess. “Should we keep this one? Is she worthy of your valuable time and attention?”

Sophia wailed and wept **** tears. She hung by a thread, her sanity balanced on a razor's edge. Master’s next words–His final judgement would decide her ultimate fate. She understood that much even through the fluffy pink clouds of hedonistic delight.

The tyrannical cock blistering her insides meant everything. Master’s command and control were absolute. Without it, without Him, Sophia was nobody.

Just another stupid bimbo, drooling saliva on her big, stupid melons, praying for a hunky Man who’d claim and own her like the dumb slut she was.

“She’s tight… really tight.” Master huffed, plowing Sophia deeper. Harder. Carving his mark into her core. “Not nearly as good as you, hon. But she’ll learn.”

“Of course she will, darling. You’ll teach her.” Adrianna gasped, grinding sinuously against him. “She’ll be your eager little breed-slut. A pretty empty-headed decoration made to be fucked and bear your children.”

Made to be fucked… bear Master's children…

Sophia badly wanted that. She needed it. More than her next breath of air. More than the seismic orgasm shaking her apart.

If not for Master’s big hands circling Sophia’s lissome waist–slamming her smaller, frailer form back onto his piledriving prick–she might have fallen to pieces, utterly deconstructed.

“Pleeeease, Master… Aaaah! P-pleeeeease!” She pleaded, heavy tits slapping her drooling chin. “Breed me… Ooommff~! Breed me, breed me, breed me, BREEED MEEEE!!”

Master wasn’t listening.

He was preoccupied with furiously making out with Adrianna. The dark-haired angel wrapped around His side, kissing and moaning, the center of amorous attention while Sophia wailed like horny banshee.

She immediately felt guilty, tarnishing an intimate moment between the two sexiest and totally wonderful people ever with her caterwauling, but couldn't stop. Master kept drilling Sophia into the desk, pinning her beneath His muscular bulk as their tongues entwined like the main characters in a Hollywood romance.

He was relentless, a champion fuckstud who could rut for weeks on end, steamrolling Sophia through a chain reaction of critical climaxes that sent her addled psyche into a meltdown. She arched and convulsed in exquisite agony, her long blonde tresses whipping her face.

“Alright, babe. She can stay… for now.” Master grunted when the kiss finally ended. Sophia’s pussy gushed with joy. “Gotta pump and dump though. Duty calls. Clean her up for later, okay?”

“Gladly, darling.” Adrianna sounded pleased. “Leave everything to me.”

“Good girl.”

Those words–two magical words–were the last straw.

Sophia howled in ecstasy as Master exploded inside her deepest depths. A flood of fecund seed inundated her fertile teen womb. Stars detonated behind her fluttering eyelids as Adrianna also cried out, cumming brilliantly for her hunky hubby.

White-hot spunk branded Sophia’s insides, claiming her forever in the most primal way possible. Immediately, she understood. Instinctively, without a shadow of doubt…

Master had planted his flag in her belly.

Bone-deep fatigue and satisfaction blanketed Sophia like a cozy duvet. Master withdrew, but his sticky heat lingered within. Warm and comforting. Slender arms scooped her into an embrace, dainty hands stroked her back as she drowsed sleepily.

“You were amazing, sweetie.” Adrianna crooned, hugging Sophia to her sumptuous bosom. “I think you might be wifey material. Isn’t that great? I’m so happy for you.”

Sophia sighed in agreement, rubbing the squishy bulge in her tummy. She was happy too.

A blindingly bright future lay before her—carefree, full of mind-blowing sex and children.

What more could a bimbo babysitter ask for?

---

The End