Babysitting for Mr. Carver [M40s F19] [Church Girl, Daddy Dom, Slow Burn, Spanking]

New Hope Church’s Sunday morning service had been finished for almost an hour, and Levi was the last child waiting to be picked up. Kayla was sitting on the floor, letting him play with letter blocks when a bold voice asserted itself through the open half of the nursery room door. “Hi, I’m here for Levi.”

At the sight of his father, Levi dropped the block he was holding, and tried to crawl toward the door.

Kayla turned to find to a handsome middle-aged man standing behind the doorframe. His hair was gray, with streaks of black, and he was wearing a long-sleeve lavender button-down that conformed to his muscular arms. “Oh, hi! You must be Mr. Carver,” she said.

“That’s right.” He gave a big smirk. “Apologies for being late. I got talking on the way and almost forgot about pickup.” He chuckled with embarrassment.

“Oh—it’s really no problem,” Kayla said as she stood up and lifted Levi into her arms. “It actually happens more than you’d think.”

“Well, that makes me feel a little better.” He scratched the back of his head. “Still, I probably shouldn’t forget my kid.”

Kayla let out a nervous laugh, not really sure what to say to that. “*Yeah*—probably not.” She walked to the doorway and handed Levi to his father. As she made the handoff, one of Levi’s feet kicked her chest, causing her boobs to shake beneath her blouse. *Oh gosh. Really, Levi?* Blood rushed to her face.

Either Mr. Carver hadn’t seen, or he was feigning a blind eye for the sake of avoidance. Whatever the reason, he made no mention of the kick as he ducked under the doorway to cradle his son. “Hey, buddy. How ya doin’?”

Levi giggled and showed his gummy smile.

“You weren’t gonna stay behind without me, were ya?” Mr. Carver said, then redirected his attention to Kayla. His face tightened into an expression that accentuated the creases surrounding his brow.

The look on his face made Kayla tense up. *Please don’t apologize. It’s really okay.*

“Listen, I meant to ask the lady this morning. Does the church offer babysitting during the week?”

*Oh, thank God.* Kayla breathed an internal sigh of relief. “Un—fortunately we don’t.” Her mouth skewed to the side.

“Ah, shit… I mean, shoot… sorry.”

Kayla giggled. “Trust me, Mr. Carver. I’ve heard my fair share of cursing, even here.”

“I need to work on that.” He grinned. “At least on Sundays.”

“*That* might be a good,” she agreed.

“Well, I’ll have to work something else out then. But, thank you. I appreciate you looking after my son.” Mr. Carver looked around like he was preparing to leave.

“Of course. Levi was great.” *And—oh wait!* She was reminded of something. “You know, I do babysit part-time.”

“Really?” he asked.

The interest in his voice caused a flutter inside Kayla’s belly. “Yeah! Not related to the church or anything. But, I might be able to help you out if you need.”

“Well. Now that you’ve remembered. Maybe you can. Would it be possible to employ your services for Wednesday?” he asked, raising his brow. “I’m sure Levi would enjoy your company. Whaddya think, buddy?” He looked down at his son and gave him a nudge.

Levi looked up, unaware of what he was being asked but appearing happy to be recognized by his father. He giggled happily as his dad gave him a little tickle.

Kayla beamed. “Aww, he’s so great,” she said.

“He is, isn’t he?” Mr. Carver looked up. “And he’d be lucky to have you looking after him this week.” He motioned toward Kayla with his hand.

The temperature in the nursery increased, warming Kayla’s cheeks. Her smile grew. Without thinking, she lifted a hand to shield her delight, but stopped midway and instead rerouted to twirling a finger through her curly, black hair so that the lifting of her hand seemed natural.

“So, what do you think about Wednesday?”

*Oh right! Babysitting,* she thought. “Let me think.” *Monday night, I’m helping Angela. I’m free Tuesday. Wednesday, I’m free too.* “Yes! Wednesday works for me. What time would you need me for?”

“Full warning. I’m not exactly sure yet. But I *think* it’ll be five to eleven.”

“At night?”

“Yes.” Mr. Carver smirked as if he was confirming something that should have been obvious. “At night.”

Heat spread across Kayla’s face, scrambling her brain. She felt a sudden need to explain herself. “I—just—a-ask—” she stammered before composing herself. “There’ve been issues in the past.”

“I’m only giving you a hard time.” He stared down at her. “So, can I take your number?”

“Of course!”

Mr. Carver dug a hand into his pocket. Veins poked through his black and gray arm hairs as he scavenged for his phone, which bulged through his khaki pants. “Here.” He pulled it out and extended the device to Kayla. “It’ll be easier if you do it.”

Kayla grabbed it and entered her digits, then sent herself a text before handing the phone back.

“Great.” Mr. Carver put his phone away. “And, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” He reached for a handshake.

Kayla met his hand, allowing Mr. Carver’s grip to tighten around her. A tingling feeling streamed through forearm, leading to her legs. Her brain locked up for a moment, then kicked back into gear. “Kayla.” She did her best to smile back at him.

“Well, Kayla. Thank you *very* much. And, I’ll see you later this week.” Mr. Carver turned and walked away while Levi looked over his shoulder and put his hand in the air in what must have been his interpretation of waving bye-bye.

​

—

​

On Wednesday, at 4:45 pm, Kayla pulled her dad’s beat-up Honda Accord next to the gray BMW that was already in the driveway of 424 Estrin Street.

The exterior of Mr. Carver’s brick, three-story home contained several wide windows, each of which was topped with sleek black roofing that matched the pavement, creating a uniform aesthetic. The whole atmosphere of the place was daunting and made Kayla feel a little silly as she walked from her vehicle to the front yard pathway.

When she arrived at the doorstep, Kayla reviewed her outfit, doing one last check for lint on her chest and legs. Choosing what to wear had been a stressor for the better part of the day, but she ultimately landed on something that was both cute and professional: a rose top with black leggings and sneakers. *Alright. It’s fine,* she thought. And with a deep breath, she knocked on the door. *Tap! Tap! . . . Tap! Tap!*

A few seconds passed, and the door swung open to reveal Mr. Carver who was dressed more formally than expected. “Kayla, you’re early,” he said.

She smiled shyly, admiring the thin black tie he had on. “I—didn’t wanna be late.”

“Well, you’re certainly not that. Come on in.”

There was a crisp woody smell as Kayla stepped into the foyer of the house. Above her head, dangling imposingly from the ceiling, was a crystal shard chandelier. “You have a very nice home,” she said.

“And *you* have very good manners,” Mr. Carver replied while easing the door shut. “Shoes go there.” He pointed to an ebony shoe bin on the left.

Already feeling nervous about being in his home by herself, Kayla opted to lift her foot and place it on top of the bin. Even though the surface was very clean, it seemed preferable to kneeling in front of a man she hardly knew.

“Foot down, please,” Mr. Carver reprimanded.

Kayla pulled her sneaker off the bin as quickly as she could. Warm tingles gathered in her face. “Oh—sorry.”

“It’s alright. I don’t want it getting dirty. That’s all.”

“I understand.” Kayla knelt down. Afraid of meeting Mr. Carver’s stare from such a humbling position, she kept her nose pointed to the floor. *Why didn’t I just do this from the start?* she thought while undoing her laces.

“I don’t have to tell you where they go, do I?”

“Oh, no. *Haha.* I think I can handle that.” Kayla laughed awkwardly as she placed her shoes into one of the compartments.

“Very good,” he said, sounding pleased. His hand found the back of Kayla’s right hip, above where the curvature of her butt ended. A cluster of tingles spread from his fingertips to her lower body as he guided her to the stairway. “I’d like to give you the rundown before I go—if that’s alright.”

Kayla cleared the back of her throat. The pleasant smell, which she now recognized to be his cologne, filled her nostrils. “Uh huh.”

“Go ahead.” He signaled for her climb the stairs.

As Kayla walked up the carpeted steps, she worried about her butt being in front of Mr. Carver. She could feel it shaking through her leggings. Had that been why he asked her to go first? The top of the steps seemed far away. She became so preoccupied with the thought that a step snagged her foot. “Oh my gosh!” She tripped forward.

“I gotcha.” A strong grip squeezed into her ass, then relaxed.

“T-thanks.” Her breath faltered as she got back up and reoriented herself.

When they reached the second floor, Mr. Carver resumed his hold on Kayla’s side while he showed her around. “Here’s the upstairs bathroom. You’re more than welcome to use it. There’s one downstairs, too.”

But Kayla was hardly listening. There was a mixture of confusing thoughts and feelings that needed to be sorted out. *Did he really grab my butt? Was I going to fall if he didn’t? He was probably just being nice. But still.* She followed his lead and stayed silent while also trying to shake off the tightness in her throat and the whatever was going on between her legs. Neither felt like they were disappearing anytime soon. The objects that filled her vision weren’t helping either. If anything, they seemed to be taunting her, asking to be rubbed against her pussy: a pillow, a bed frame, Mr. Carver’s fingers. *Oh gosh, Kayla. Focus.*

“And, here’s Levi’s room. He’s in the crib. If he starts crying, check on him, make sure things are okay, but you can leave him in there.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Great.” Mr. Carver retraced his steps. He led Kayla down the flight of stairs and back into the foyer. Then he opened his closet and pulled out a jacket. “I’ll try to be back around eleven. Food is in the fridge. Oh, and that reminds me—so is the formula. If he’s having trouble, you might need to feed him.”

Pressure swelled in Kayla’s chest, and her mind drifted.

“And, I’ll have your money when I get back. Sound good?”

“Oh—yeah—absolutely.”

“Kayla, is everything okay?”

“I’m just… taking it in, that’s all.”

“You sure about that?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright.” Mr. Carver smirked. “Thanks again for everything. I really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Of course,” she replied.

“Call me if you need anything.” he said, while closing the door behind him.

With Mr. Carver out of the house, Kayla waited, listening. The growl of his car’s engine revved into gear, then pulled off, leaving the neighborhood. Inside, the only sound was the ticking of the kitchen clock. Kayla walked into the room next to the foyer and peered through the window to confirm that the BMW was indeed gone.

She laid herself down on the leather couch. Her hand moved toward the center of her thighs. In the little bit of time that she had been in Mr. Carver’s house there was already so much to process, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to do the job she was being paid for if she didn’t get this out of the way now. *Wait, no. I shouldn’t.* Her guilty conscious caused her to halt. *This isn’t my house. I can’t.* She scanned the room, looking for recording devices. Cameras, microphones, laptops, anything. It was always a possibility. Something could be hidden, and she was supposed to be a good example for the church, even if she wasn’t currently working for them. What if he found out? But, the sensitivity between her legs continued to pulsate, luring her fingers in.

“Foot down, please.” The words replayed in her head. His voice had been stern, very different from when they had first met. “I don’t want it getting *dirty*.” Had that been some sort of jab? If it was, why did it feel good to hear again? His bed. The pillows. His hands. His scent. Kayla felt ashamed, worried, and unable to suppress her innate desires. “Mmm.” She couldn’t resist.

After a pleasurable thirty minutes, Kayla recaptured her professionalism and pulled out *The Serpent King’s Princess* by Eleanor Cassidy. She read for most of the night, except for the two times Levi cried. On both accounts, Kayla went up and tended to the baby, then put him back in the crib.

Before she knew it, the kitchen clock was ringing to signal that it was eleven. There was a *ding!* on her phone. Kayla looked down. It was her dad. “When are you going to be home? I don’t want you staying out too late.”

“Shouldn’t be much longer. I’m just waiting for them to get back,” she replied.

Kayla had tactfully told her parents that she was babysitting for a married couple out of fear that they wouldn’t allow her to babysit for a single dad. Angela was the only person who was entrusted with her actual whereabouts, but that was only as a matter of precaution.

“Keep me updated.”

“I will.” She rolled her eyes, setting her phone down as Mr. Carver’s M3 roared through the neighborhood.

Kayla peered out the window as he drove into the driveway. She wondered where he had been. *Somewhere nice. That’s for sure, dressed like that. It wasn’t a date, was it?* She sat back on the couch, and opened her book, hoping that it wasn’t.

The door handle shook and opened without the turn of a key. Mr. Carver’s Oxford dress shoes clomped through the foyer. “There you are,” he said. “Levi didn’t give you too much trouble, did he?”

Kayla closed her book and set it down on the couch. She tried to act natural, but the sight of Mr. Carver’s hands made it hard to do so. “Oh no. Yeah, he was great,” she said.

“Good.” Mr. Carver removed his coat and placed it on a hanger before shutting the closet door. His brow became stern. “Listen, next time, you need to make sure to lock the door.” He pointed to the handle behind him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I—didn’t—know it was unlocked.”

“Did you check?” he asked, moving into the room where Kayla was sitting.

“Well—I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what?” he asked. “I’m paying you to babysit. Part of that means taking care of the house.” His volume increased. “I don’t want people coming in here. Not just for Levi’s sake, but yours as well!”

Shocked, Kayla stared up. Chills covered the back of her neck. Blood rushed between her thighs, creating a sensitivity underneath her leggings.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

“W-what?”

“I said, STAND UP!” Mr. Carver repeated.

Not sure what else to do, Kayla obeyed, but she didn’t dare look up at Mr. Carver’s face.

Mr. Carver took Kayla’s place on the couch. He sat on the edge of the cushion with his legs spread wide open, and he pushed Kayla’s book to the floor. “Bend over my knee.”

*What?!* Kayla froze.

“I said, bend over my knee. That means now, Kayla.”

The tone struck a chord, but Kayla remained locked with her brain racing in a million different directions, like a deer that was caught in the middle of a highway with no sense of what to do or how to make a decision.

“NOW!” he yelled, making the decision for her.

The bumps on the back of Kayla’s neck stood on high alert. She climbed onto Mr. Carver’s lap. Her elbows rested beside him, sinking into the couch. Her toes stayed on the ground. Most of her weight was supported by his thigh. One of his hands took hold of her side while the other trailed up the back of her opposing leg. His fingers gathered at the waistband of her leggings. He peeled them down, revealing a rose-colored pair of cloth panties that matched her shirt.

*Smack!*

The sound rang through Kayla’s ears. Stinging sensations traversed the right side of her ass. She hissed in pain and her jaw dropped.

“That’s one,” Mr. Carver announced. “Two!” he followed it up, harder this time.

Kayla felt his wide hand slap and pull away in a rapid motion. “Uhhh!” The pitch of her voice heightened.

“THREE,” he growled.

*Fuck!* *Oh my God.* Kayla sucked air in through her clenched teeth. “Ahhh, I’m sorry, Mr. Carver!” she blurted out, conceding that she was in the wrong.

“What are you sorry for?”

Kayla closed her eyes, anticipating another slap.

“Answer me, Kayla. Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mr. Carver pressed. “FOUR.” He slapped her ass again. His large hand left an imprint behind.

“Uh, uhh! Y-yes,” she replied.

“Then what is it!?”

“For not checking to see if the door was locked,” she whined.

One of his hands rubbed Kayla’s ass. He gathered her panties between her butt cheeks and pulled upward.

“Mmm,” Kayla moaned as the fabric wedged between her lips.

“And why is that a problem?” Mr. Carver tugged.

“Mm, mmm, because—” her legs shook “—mmm, we don’t want anyone coming in.”

Mr. Carver sneered satisfactorily. “That’s right,” he said in a mockingly encouraging voice. He released her panties and lifted his hand. “So, what are you going to do next—TIME?” His hand clapped down on her butt. “FIVE!”

A red flash filled the grain of Kayla’s vision. She squeezed her eyelids together to absorb the pain. “Ahhh,” she cried out, “I’m going to check the door!”

“AAAND SIX! That’s one for every *god damn* hour you left the door unlocked,” he yelled.

The severe hit scorched Kayla’s ass, coating her butt with burning pain that seeped into the rest of her rear. “Ahhh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she pled.

“Damn fucking right you are.” Mr. Carver’s squeezed Kayla’s ass.

“Mmmmm, I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

Both of Mr. Carver’s hands made circles around Kayla’s butt, then found the end of her leggings. He pulled the waistband back up and snapped it into place. “Leaving the door unlocked, that doesn’t happen again. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Carver.”

“That’s a good girl.” He patted her ass. “Now stand up.” His nails dug into Kayla’s sides as he guided her to her feet. He stood up, too, towering over while he reached into his back pocket.

Hot in the face, Kayla kept her eyes down. At this point it was questionable, if she even deserved payment.

“It’s a matter of Levi’s safety, but yours, too,” he said. “You understand that?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she said, with the softest sound that she had made all night.

The knuckle side of Mr. Carver’s hand grazed Kayla’s chin. He titled her head back. “Look at me when you say it. Do you understand?”

“Uh huh.” She nodded.

“That’s better.” There seemed to be a flicker of warmth hiding behind his harsh face. “Here you go.” Mr. Carver handed $180 dollars to Kayla. “Now, It’s late. You should get home. We don’t want your family getting worried.”

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/wzkx75/babysitting_for_mr_carver_m40s_f19_church_girl