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Subject: {ASSM} My First Babysitting Humiliation
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Date: Tue, 12 Nov 2013 08:10:02 -0500
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My First Babysitting Humiliation
by Annity Fair


At 17 I was proud to be the concertmistress (first chair
violinist) of my high school orchestra. One night right after I
had returned home from a concert I heard a pounding on the door,
just when I was about to change out of my concert outfit. Instead
of changing, I ran downstairs and opened the door in my white
silk blouse and long black velvet skirt. There was the father of
the family next door, looking really upset. He told me that
grandma was in the hospital with a stroke, and could I please
baby-sit their kids while he and his wife went to visit her. His
wife was already in the car, so there was only time to scribble a
note to my parents (they had driven home from the concert
separately, in order to return MY grandmother to her nursing
home). I was supposed to rush off to a post-concert party, but of
course did my duty and was soon next door waving goodbye to my
neighbors' station wagon, surrounded by their kids, a girl age
10, and two boys, 8 and 5.

So there I was, perhaps the most over-dressed baby-sitter in
history. And right away the kids started commenting on my outfit,
for they had never seen me so dressed up. The little girl
immediately pointed out that she could see the outlines of my
lacy camisole through my blouse, which of course made me blush.
Seeing my vulnerability to embarrassment emboldened them. Next
thing I know the 8 year old is using a big stick to lift up the
back of my skirt. I stopped him in time, but not before everyone
got a glimpse of my white slip, which mortified me to no end.
Clearly it was time to herd them all inside and turn on the TV!
But when I opened the door, out shot the cat. It eluded my grasp
and the next thing I know it was up a tree.

At first I welcomed this distraction. But then it hit me: it was
up to ME to get that cat down. No way I was going to call the
fire department, especially since the kitty was nestled on a
branch no more than 10 feet up. A ladder would have done the
trick, but then those brats would be free to look up my skirt, so
that was out of the question. After thinking for a moment, I
figured I'd use the element of surprise. Suddenly I kicked off my
shoes, hiked up my skirt, and scrambled up the trunk of the tree.
Before the kids knew what was going on, I was sharing the same
branch with the cat, sitting there next to it with my legs
tightly crossed, to insure that nothing was showing. True, my
long concert skirt was now way above my knee, but luckily my slip
was even shorter, so decency still prevailed. Now all I had to do
was this: lunge to the left, extend my arms, and cradle the
naughty cat to my chest, all the while keeping my body axis
roughly in line with the branch (otherwise I'd slip off).

I took a deep breath -- and pounced on the cat. To my surprise
and dismay the branch bent under my weight, causing me to lose my
balance just as I wrapped my arms around the startled cat. I
closed my eyes, bracing myself for the impact of my derriere on
the ground, but to my surprise when the pain came, it was in my
armpits. My fall had been broken. I was now hanging 4 feet off
the ground by my armpits, while my hands grasped a squirming cat
bent on scratching my face. Of course my first instinct was to
let go of the cat, grab the branch, and gently bring myself down
my extending my arms -- but then the cat would go even high up
the tree, and all my acrobatics would have been for naught. So I
just hung there, suspended from a branch in my expensive blouse
and skirt, as the three children gathered around me. "Get a
ladder!" I screamed -- but they just stood there, staring at me.
Or staring at what was beneath my skirt, to be more exact. I
shook with anger and humiliation when I realized what they were
doing, making nearby leaves rustle, then kicked in all directions
to try to shoo them away, but from their laughter and their
bedazzled expressions I knew that it was too late, that they had
all seen my fancy concert underwear.

Then the little girl said, "You heard, her, let's get Ann down
from there!" She whispered to the others -- my heart leapt,
thinking they were going to help me -- but what happened next
could not have been more awful. First, they circled my dangling
legs; then, in union, they jumped up and grabbed my skirt and
hung from the hem as an NBA player hangs from the basketball
hoop. The branch bent, my armpits ached, the cat, in a frenzy
now, scratched my face -- but none of that made an impression on
me, next to the terrible sound of seams splitting down the side
of my skirt waistband. I looked down in horror at my hip and saw
my zipper seam burst open, followed immediately by my skirt going
south. The three children landed on the grass, taking my skirt
with them, and leaving me suspended from a branch in just my
blouse and short white slip, squirming with shame! In a flash
they were back in their feet, hooting with laughter. I saw the 5
year old waved my skirt around like a banner, while the other
took a few steps back from me, in preparation of making another
leap. "No!" I screamed. "You're still overdressed!" the girl brat
said. I screamed and began to wiggle my way upward, hoping to
lift myself out of their replied. To elude their grasp, I
shimmied upward until that the branch crossed my waist, but that
only served to shift my center of gravity forward, so that I was
now bent like upside down 'V', with my slip-covered bottom
pointed skywards, and both my legs and arms within their reach.
At least the cat was now close enough to the ground to leap down
safely; gladly I let go of this ballast, thinking that now at
least my arms were free to defend myself. But immediately the
leaping girl grabbed my wrists, while at the same time her little
brother shot up and embraced my legs just above my knees. Next
thing I know, he has let go of my legs and is falling -- but not
before grabbing the lace hem of my slip with both hands. It was
just a half slip, its elastic waistband no match for the weight
of an 8 year old, so slid all the way down my legs in a flash.
The boy fell onto the grass, followed by my slip, alighting on
his face like a parachute. Everyone laughed at the sight of me
kicking and screaming, looking so embarrassed, straddling a
branch in just my blouse and bright white panties shining through
my sheer taupe pantyhose.

Next came a two-pronged attack, a pincer movement, with the
10-year-old grabbing my sleeves and the 8-year-old my pantyhosed
feet. Both at once lifted their feet off the ground and brought
all their weight to bear on my blouse and pantyhose. My top slid
over my head and down my arms, taking my flimsy camisole with it,
leaving me in just my white bra, while, simultaneously, my tights
stretched and stretched and finally gave way, slowly moving down
my waist, their waistband catching on the lip of my panty elastic
and yanking my underpants down as well, exposing my pale bare
bottom to the moonlight, as I writhed in humiliation. Then,
miraculously, my falling pantyhose let go of my panties. But too
late! For now they uselessly festooned my thighs, leaving my most
private region totally exposed. I winced, and looked away, only
to lock eyes with the 5-year-old, who was staring at me with such
intensity, his gleaming eyes like spotlights, roasting me alive,
that my body temperature shot up 20 degrees and my burning shame
became white hot, flaring up and consuming my consciousness. I
shuddered just as my bare puss pressed against the wood of the
branch. Right then and there, in the worst possible
circumstances, bare-assed in front of 3 children, I had my first
orgasm. When I felt my body shake like it had a will of its own,
I immediately realized what was happening to me (for I was
already a reader of Cosmopolitan). I mustered all the willpower I
could, to get the convulsions to stop, but it was too late, the
spasms just kept coming and coming. The thought of them seeing me
straddling a branch, skirtless, blouseless, pantyless, rubbing my
crotch, made me even more aflame with shame, and this blaze
further fueled my frissons. Caught in this vicious circle of
shame and ecstasy, I completely lost control of my body, and slid
off the branch, falling onto the grass in just my bra and
half-mast panties.

Somehow I was able to stagger indoors, into the living room, only
to collapse in tears on the oriental rug, my body heaving from
weeping and orgasmic aftershocks. Totally spent, utterly
disoriented, I could only lie there on my tummy as the children
unclasped my bra and pulled off my panties, leaving me totally
nude. I was so dazed that I was more like a life-sized doll than
a human being. They spent the rest of the evening "playing
house," with me as the baby. They even put a diaper on me and
forced me to suck my thumb. I did whatever they told me to do,
first out of sheer exhaustion, then because they threatened not
to give me my clothes back if I did not play along. They also
took pictures, to insure my silence. Finally the children grew
tired of playing with me, and permitted me to help get them ready
for bed, a task I performed with my boobs hanging loose, for I
was still wearing only pampers. It was not until I had tucked in
the 10-year-old that she told me where my clothes were hidden.

Fortunately, when their parents finally came home after midnight,
they were too distraught from their hospital stay to notice that
my skirt was held together by safety pins and that I was braless
under my sheer white blouse (for the children kept my underwear
as souvenirs). Nor did they notice the bustle under my skirt that
signaled that their baby-sitter was more baby than sitter,
complete with a diaper-encased bottom.

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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