The Nanny, Part 2 (Cynthia)

I thought it was a dream. Or more like a nightmare.

But it wasn’t.

I woke up the next day with the vision of him hovering over me, the feeling of him inside me, and the taste of his tongue in my mouth. And on my clit.

Fucking monster.

*I’ll leave. I’ll go. I’ll pack my things and go straight to the police.
He raped me. He fucking raped me.*

The more I thought about it, the more enraged I became. I didn’t sign up for this shit. I should have punched him in the face and clawed his eyes out; I wanted to grab a knife from the kitchen and cut out his raping heart.

The door to my room pushed open. It was Joel, sweet Joely. He jumped on my bed and wrapped his pudgy arms around my neck, showering me with kisses and melting away the anger.

“Cynthia, can we go to the sprinklers today? I want to go, just you and me.”

I ruffled his dark blond curls. “Sure. We can do anything you want today. But we can’t leave Cassie behind. She’ll be sad.”

He pouted. “She’s being mean this morning. She hid my Iron Man and my Captain America, and I can’t play Avengers without them.”

I grinned. “I’ll talk to her. In the meantime, you go back to your room.
Did you have your bath?”

He nodded. “Mommy gave it to me. I love Mommy, but I love you best, shhhhh.” He put his finger to his mouth, leaped off the bed, and ran back to his room.

I looked skyward, tears filling my eyes. How could I leave my sweet Joely?

I thought about it later as the kids ran through the sprinklers in the park. I *had* to leave. I only had a little money saved, but it was enough for me to get a room for a few weeks while I looked for another job.

*This is the way it has to be. I can’t stay and be sex slave to a psycho rapist.*

After I took the children back home, I went straight to my room and began packing. I would slip out tonight while everyone was asleep. I’d leave a note apologizing to Julia and the children for the abruptness of my departure.

I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t realized someone had entered my room.

It was him, Kyle Lawson. My torturer. He was handsome, or so I once believed. Trim yet hard-muscled. Blond hair a shade or two lighter than his son’s, eyes the color of sapphire. Those eyes were now fixed on my bags.

“Going somewhere?”

“Yes, you rapist fucker, ” I spit out. “And if you come near me again, I’ll scream so loud that Julia, the kids, and everybody within a five mile radius will hear!”

He held up his hands. “Rapist fucker, huh?” He was quiet for a moment. “You told me…it felt good.”

I felt rage exploding in my chest. “I told you to STOP. You should have stopped. You never should have started! And if you try to stop me from leaving, I’ll tell Julia everything.”

“I won’t try to stop you, ” he said softly. “But if you want to talk to Julia, you’ll have to call her at her parents. She’s taken the children to visit them until tomorrow.” A mischievous gleam was beginning to creep into his eyes. “We’re all alone.”

“You’re alone. Because I’m leaving.” I threw the rest of my clothes into a suitcase. “If I’ve forgotten anything, frankly, I don’t give a fuck, because –” Before I could finish, he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to him, crushing his mouth down on mine. I felt his hands travel down my back to my butt, pressing me against his penis, which was already rock hard.

I wrenched myself away, hating myself for how fast my heart was racing and that I hadn’t scratched his eyes out as I’d imagined.

“Listen. You can go. I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars for your services” – I glared at him – “as my children’s nanny. That should be more than enough to get you on your feet. On one condition.”

I shook my head in disgust, already knowing what was next.

“One more night. Just one. You don’t fight it. You just enjoy it and let me make you feel good.”

I guffawed. “Be your sex slave for one more night and I’m out of this hell?”

“You wouldn’t be a sex slave,” he said wryly. “But, yes.”

I bit my lip. I’d have to let this man touch me again but then I’d be free. I’d never have be near his repulsive ass again. Never have to think of this awful chapter in my life. And I’d have ten thousand in the bank to start over.

“Fine. I’ll go from rape victim to prostitute.” I laughed bitterly. “But at least I’ll be done with you.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here.”

We drove to a five-star hotel downtown. There, I was pampered. Facial, massage, manicure, pedicure, the works. I could almost pretend that I’d taken a spa day. Almost.

*I’ll do this again for myself when I’m out. And I won’t have to fuck anyone afterwards.*

Kyle had booked one of the penthouse suites, and had laid out a silk green negligee on the bed.

It was beautiful, I had to admit. He was a monster, but he had good taste.

I got dressed and went out to the balcony, sampling some champagne he’d had sent up. I heard him come in but I didn’t acknowledge him until he was right behind me, nuzzling my hair. He slid his fingers lightly up and down my arms.

I wanted to feel repulsed. But his touch was so soft that I could not.

He spun me around, desire in his eyes. “You look incredible.” He was dressed in a dark terry cloth robe and silken boxers. His muscular chest looked golden in the moonlight. He was an attractive bastard, to be sure.

“Thank you,” I said curtly.

He kissed me very tenderly, and I didn’t fight him, as was our agreement. My hands went around his neck almost involuntarily, and I returned his kiss. I liked it, and I hated myself for it.

He pulled away first, his forehead touching mine. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone in my life more than I want you. What spell do you have over me, Cynthia?”

I turned away from him and walked over to the balcony railing. “You’re paying me ten thousand dollars to fuck you after you raped me. Not to mention, you’re cheating on your wife. Your family. Let’s not make this into something it’s not.”

“Fair enough.” He reached for my hand and led me back inside. We drank more champagne and I tried to get a grip on my emotions. I hated him, but liked the kiss. I despised him, but his touch didn’t repulse me. Why?

He shed his robe and we laid on the bed. He slid my spaghetti straps down, my breasts tumbling out. He softly kissed and licked them, one after the other, before coming to my nipples and sucking them sweetly. I gasped, electric jolts shooting up and down my body.

He plied my legs open, moving aside my lacy underwear. I was wet with desire; he could feel it, and he grinned at me triumphantly.

I hated him.

“You want this,” he said huskily. “You can deny it, and you can hate me. But, your body responds to my touch.”

“It’s just a physical reaction,” I told him, averting my eyes. “It really means nothing.”

He rubbed his thumb against my hot, wet clit while I sank into the pillows, the ache of need filling inside me.

“I want to taste you.”

He pulled my underwear off and kissed me from my breasts to the lips of my vagina. He flicked his tongue over my clit, softly, slowly.

“That feels so fucking good.” I couldn’t stop myself from running my fingers through his blond curls, while he licked and swirled and sucked. I stretched my legs wider so he could taste me more fully, telling myself that this was just a physical response to being sexually stimulated. Kyle, bastard that he was, knew what he was doing in the bedroom.

“Yes…oh, yes…don’t stop…”

I came so hard, I thought I’d pass out. It felt fucking incredible. I hated how much I enjoyed it.

Kyle threw off his boxers and lifted me on top of his swollen penis; I rode him while he grabbed my breasts and squeezed, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy. I galloped back and forth, moaning with pleasure I could not contain. I put my feet up against the headboard so he could feel me more deeply.

“Oh, baby…Cynthia…that pussy was made just for me,” he said raggedly.

He pulled me down to him and wrapped his arms around me, his body crushed tightly against mine. I reached for him and kissed up and down his neck. His cock felt amazing inside of me, and the truth was, I had enjoyed every minute of our lovemaking. When we finally climaxed, we fell into each others arms in laughter and sweet exhaustion.

He stared at me with unexpected warmth and tenderness in his eyes. When he spoke his voice was deep and low. “Cynthia…don’t leave.” I let out a huge sigh. “I know I fucked up,” he continued. “I forced myself on you and you hate me, and you’re right to do so. But this time was different for us both, and I think you felt it, too. This was real.”

I shook my head. “Do you know what’s real? Your fucking wife. Your two kids. That is reality.”

“You really want to give this up? How it feels to fuck each other and hold each other? I’ve been sleepwalking through this charmed life of mine and now I finally feel alive.” He cupped my face in his hands. “I can’t lose you.”

We kissed, wrapping ourselves in each other’s arms. Somehow all of this had become more insane than ever before.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/9s8mgl/the_nanny_part_2_cynthia