Message-ID: <35076asstr$1012882212@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "John Ashcroft" <johnashcroft22@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} The Baby-Sitter Escort Service, ch.6 {jashcroft}
Date: Mon,  4 Feb 2002 23:10:12 -0500
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Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This is mine. I wrote it; you can read it. (N.B.: "Read" is not synonymous 
with "steal," "repost," "archive," "rewrite," "redistribute," or "use on a 
pay site.")

Okay, I get the point--lots of people still reading. That's the last time I 
pull a stunt like that. Never mind. <g> A few people pointed out problems 
with extracting my e-mail address from the header. Sorry about that.

---

Missed a previous chapter? Click here:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2002/34807
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2002/34836
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2002/34883
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2002/34931
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Collections/Alt.Sex.Stories.Moderated/Year2002/35011

---

The Baby-Sitter Escort Service

by John Ashcroft (johnashcroft22@hotmail.com)

Ch.6

_Angel's_'s ending; here come the credits. Now you can find out the name of 
the actress who played that cute blonde in bar scene and look her up on the 
'net. No--fuck it, they're squashing the credits again so they can run a 
promo for the eleven o'clock news.

The credits are scrunched up along the side by a clip of bombs exploding on 
an Afghan hillside, and a voice-over cuts into the closing music: "Coming up 
on Action News at eleven, the Department of Defense says it now believes 
that Osama bin Laden may be dead, the victim of  bombings raids on Tora Bora 
last month!"

The bombing clip is replaced by stock footage of George W. Bush, and the 
voice-over continues: "Meanwhile, back at home, President Bush appears to 
have another near-fatal run-in with a pretzel, while Vice-President Cheney 
appears to be on the verge of reversing his stand on the Enron meeting 
records!"

The credits end, and the news intro graphics begin, beaches and palm trees 
flashing over the screen. The anchors appear, an old guy with a bad rug and 
a cute Latina hired to keep the newscast from being too lily-white. The old 
guy fixes his gaze on the camera.

"But first, our top story tonight: dramatic new developments in the Platinum 
Beach Baby-Sitter Escort Service case! The FBI said today that it is opening 
an investigation into possible violations of federal law in connection with 
the activities of the junior-high call girl ring. Our reporter Bret Charles 
is live at the federal courthouse in Platinum Beach now."

The shot of the anchor desk is replaced by a shot of a field reporter 
standing in the dark before some kind of government building. There's 
nothing going on in the background and no apparent explanation for why they 
need an on-the-scene report, but along the bottom, the graphic still says 
"Channel 5 -- Live!" The reporter positions his mike under his chin and 
begins his report.

"Hal, the FBI is apparently investigating allegations that much of the 
prostitution ring's business was conducted via e-mail, which would violate 
federal laws against using the internet to entice minors into sexual 
situations."

The screen cuts back to the old guy at the anchor desk. "Steve, are they 
looking into the reports about the virginity auction web site?"

Back to the reporter: "That indeed is one of their main concerns, Hal. I was 
told by an agent this afternoon that the girl in question used her account 
on America Online to create a web site that operated much like the auction 
site eBay. America Online officials are reportedly launching an internal 
investigation into how this happened, and they insist that they will 
cooperate fully with federal authorities."

"Steve, we've been hearing reports that this site may have contained forms 
of child pornography. What's the latest on that?"

"Yes, Hal, as incredible as it may sound, the girl who set up this site 
actually provided photographic evidence of--"

---

"--my virginity," Lauren said. "I mean, why would anyone believe I'm really 
a virgin unless we proved it?"

I sat there gaping at Lauren in complete shock. Not because what she wanted 
to do was that crazy--it actually made some twisted sense--but that _she_ 
had come up with this idea.

"You want me to take a picture of your cherry?"

"Yeah. What else could we possibly give them?"

I'd come over to her house to work out what we were going to do with Mr. 
Taylor tomorrow afternoon, and she'd wanted me to check out the design of 
her virginity auction web site. As I said before, Lauren was a computer 
geek, but I was still pretty fucking impressed with what she'd put together. 
She'd written a java script to handle the bids and designed a whole bunch of 
graphics around it, something that looked almost like a real adult web site. 
She'd borrowed her dad's digital camera, and she wanted me to take some 
pictures of her for it, which I was fine with--until she explained what else 
she wanted.

"How am I supposed to take a picture of it?"

"I'll just lie down and open my legs. You take a picture of my puss. I tried 
to do it myself, but it didn't come out."

Jeez--every time I thought I'd reached my weird-out threshold with this 
call-girl business, something else came up. But she had a point. Without any 
evidence that Lauren was a virgin, there was no telling whether anyone would 
be interested. I hadn't thought about that at all when she first proposed 
the idea. But _with_ this picture she wanted me to take--Jesus. My head 
started to spin just thinking about it.

"Um. Okay. How does the camera work?"

She shot a couple of test pictures to show me how to frame the shot with the 
screen on the back. Then she started getting undressed.

"I want you to take some nude shots of me first. Don't worry about my face. 
I'll blur that out later."

"Okay."

When she was naked, she posed in front of her computer. At first, she looked 
like a dork and I told her so, but after a few minutes and about a dozen 
wasted shots, she started to relax. I took some of her standing up nude in 
front of her bedroom window, some of her posing in front of the mirror in 
her bathroom, and a bunch more of her lying down on her bed. It was a good 
thing both her parents were at work--her mom would have murdered us both on 
the spot if she'd caught us doing this.

"That should be enough," she said finally.

"We should take a few of you getting yourself off. All the porn stuff I've 
seen shows the girls fingering themselves."

She looked down at her puss. "Okay." She lay back and put one hand on her 
tits and one between her legs. She started playing with herself, and I shot 
about six pictures of it.

"How much space is left on the card?" she asked.

I looked at the display. "It says sixteen."

"Wow, we took a lot. I want to do the virginity one now." She sat up and 
pulled up her knees. I squatted down at the end of the bed, and--feeling a 
little nauseous--looked at her puss to see if I could see her cherry.

"I don't see anything. Maybe open yourself up a little."

Lauren reached down and pulled her lips apart. I still didn't know what I 
was supposed to take a picture of. I mean, yeah, I knew I had one once--it 
had hurt enough when it popped--but I'd never really taken a good look at 
it. It hadn't ever occurred to me to do it.

"More."

She fiddled with herself a second and pulled her puss open again. Okay--now 
I could see something, a kind of web stretching between her lips. But I 
wasn't sure the picture would show it.

"Lie back some more. Spread your legs apart as far as you can."

She did, pulling her puss about as far open as it would get. I squatted down 
and got it squared in the display. Then I shot off about five pictures.

"I think that should do it," I said.

Lauren got dressed and transferred all the pictures to her computer. She 
picked the best cherry shot and pasted it right smack in the middle of her 
web site. The fucking thing took up like three-quarters of the screen.

"Jesus Christ," I said.

"That's what I'm selling. We should give them a good look at it."

I sat there watching in amazement as she finished the site, pasting the nude 
shots (with her face blurred out) all over the rest of it. Now it really did 
look like a porn site--except I'd never seen one before that said "This 
Virgin Can Be Yours!!!" and "Here's What You Get to Pop!" Then she took one 
of the jilling-off shots I'd suggested we do and put it under a banner 
saying "I'm So Horny I Can't Wait Much Longer!"

And to think I'd always thought Lauren was _shy_. I wondered what else might 
be going on in her head. For the first time, I began to have second thoughts 
about this whole call girl business.

"Damn," I finally said. "When are you going to upload it?"

"I don't know. Not yet. Not until we've got more clients. Oh, hey, check 
this out." She switched out of the web design program and pulled up 
something else. "I started this spreadsheet for the call girl stuff, just 
like for the baby-sitting. So we know who we did what with, and which dads 
like what. That way we can stay organized."

Lauren had always kept the records of our baby-sitting club, so this wasn't 
much of a surprise, but it was still pretty fucking weird to see entries 
like "November 12 | Kaitlyn & Tricia | Mr. Dillard | Lesbo, blow job | $2000 
| Likes to watch us swap his come."

"Fuck. I told Tricia not to tell you about that. I don't want to do that 
again."

"You don't have to do it. I just want to keep a record of everything."

Under that entry was our date with Mr. Taylor tomorrow: "November 15 | 
Kaitlyn & Lauren | Mr. Taylor | Lesbo, fuck, blow job | $1800 | Lauren's 
first trick!" Along the bottom was a total of all the money we'd made so 
far: $4000.

Damn. Damn! I suddenly realized I had like fifteen hundred dollars stashed 
in my purse. I'd been too busy to spend much of it. Definitely time for a 
mall run. There was this Kate Spade book bag I'd always wanted, though I'd 
have to tell Mom it was a knock-off. And this totally hot Prada blouse. And 
these Gucci sunglasses I saw at Neiman Marcus.

"So what should we do for Mr. Taylor tomorrow?" Lauren asked.

"Oh. Probably nothing, or at least nothing as tweaked as what we did for Mr. 
Dillard. Just act like you've never done anything at all but you want him to 
show you. I think he gets off on that."

"Huh. Well, I can do that. It's not like I _have_ done anything."

"But there was something really fucking weird he asked me. He wanted to know 
if you had pubes yet. Don't fucking ask me why."

Lauren's eyes went all spacey. "What did you tell him?"

"I didn't. I was so surprised, I asked him why he wanted to know. He got all 
nervous and didn't really tell me."

"I know why. I bet he thinks I don't. I bet he's hoping I don't. You know 
how porn girls shave theirs."

"Yeah. You think he wants you to shave it?"

"No. I think he's hoping I don't have any yet, you know, like I'm not old 
enough."

That--even though I felt sick to my stomach thinking about it--made some 
sense. If Mr. Dillard wanted me and Tricia to dress up like Catholic school 
girls, I could totally see Mr. Taylor hoping Lauren looked like a 
twelve-year-old between her legs, since she pretty much did otherwise. She 
got hassled every time we tried to get into a PG-13 movie, even though she 
hadn't been thirteen in like six months.

"So do you want to shave it?"

She sat there thinking for a few seconds. "I'm afraid he'd be able to tell, 
if I shaved it. Wouldn't there be stubble?"

"So forget it."

"No. If that's what he wants, I want to do it."

"Then what? It's not like you could get a bikini wax. You'd get arrested."

"They make home waxing kits."

I suddenly saw where this was going, and fuck me, but that was about the 
last damn thing I wanted to help her with.

"Forget it! I'm not waxing your puss for you."

"But I can't do it myself," she whined. "It would hurt too much."

"No. Fuck that."

"Please. Please."

I flopped back onto her bed. "When the hell could we do it? Mr. Taylor is 
coming to my house like right after school tomorrow. There's no time."

"We could do it right now. My mom has a kit she uses on her legs."

I looked at her. "You really want to do this?"

"Please?"

I groaned. "Fuck. Go get it. Let's at least read the directions."

---

That was how I wound up kneeling between Lauren's legs in her bathroom, with 
her naked on the counter and me with my fist around a strip of cloth that 
was glued to the right half of her puss.

"Are you ready?"

She screwed her eyes closed and held on tight to the towel in her hands. I 
took a deep breath and jerked off the cloth.

Lauren let out a yelp, grabbed at her puss, then began sobbing in pain. From 
what I had in my hand, it looked like I'd ripped out just about everything. 
I wanted to ask if it hurt, but that was pretty fucking obvious.

"Are you all right?"

She cried for a few seconds, but nodded. She kept rubbing at herself, and I 
handed her the lotion you were supposed to put on afterward. When she took 
her hand away, I could see that she was just about bald, on the right half 
at least.

We did the other side a few minutes later, and when we were done, she really 
fucking looked like a little kid. Not a single hair was left that I could 
see.

"Wow."

"Do you think he'll like it?"

"If it's what he's into, yeah. Jesus."

---

That night I had to take a break from all the call-girl crap because I had a 
bunch of homework to catch up on, but there I was in the middle of finishing 
this essay for English class when the phone rang, and even though I was 
praying it wasn't for me, sure enough Mom stuck her head in the door.

"Honey, it's the Wellingtons. A sitting job, I think."

If it was Mr. Wellington, I was pretty sure what it was about. But I picked 
up my phone anyway.

"Hi."

It was him. "Hi, Kaitlyn. Um, I was calling to see if you might be free to, 
you know, sit for us."

"Tonight?"

"Well. Not necessarily."

That more or less answered my question. "Tonight's not good. But look, if 
this is what I think it's about, you need to be careful about calling me 
like this. Do you have AIM?"

"AIM?"

"AOL? Instant messenger?"

"Oh. We have an AOL account. Why?"

"Just log on and IM me. My screenname is kittygrrl94540."

"Nine-four--"

"Five-four-oh. I'm online now."

"Okay. Sorry. Give me a minute."

I hung up and switched into AOL to turn my IMs back on. I had to turn them 
off when I was doing homework, otherwise I never got anything done with all 
my friends and all these other people I knew online bugging me. Pretty soon 
Mr. Wellington popped up. His screenname was WellngLaw949.

<Kaitlyn?>

<Hi =)>

<How are you?>

<Just doing homework>

<I'm sorry about calling you. I didn't know how else to get a hold of you.>

<Well now you do =)>

<I'd like to see you again, when it's convenient.>

<Whenever, just not tonite>

<Tomorrow night?>

<Sure>

<I got you something. I hope you'll like it.>

Whoa. This I hadn't expected. <What did you get me???>

<I'll show you tomorrow>

<I hope it's not the jacket. I already bought it =)>

<No. Something else, but something like that. Several things actually>

_Several_ things? Woo! <kewl, I can't wait>

<So can you come over tomorrow night around eight? Rachel is going to be 
with her parents again.>

<ok>

<Thanks. See you then>

Somehow he'd logged off and I'd gone back to work before I remembered what I 
was _also_ doing tomorrow. I already _had_ a trick with Mr. Taylor and 
Lauren from four to five. I was going to have to fuck two guys in one night. 
Plus Lauren.

I figured I could do it, but, whoa. This was getting intense.

---

Lauren and I came back to my house after school the next day. She was acting 
really nervous, but I was feeling okay. I was more interested in what Mr. 
Wellington had bought me and whether I should ask him for money on top of 
it. I figured I'd wait and see, since I didn't have a lot of choice.

"How's your puss?" I asked Lauren.

"Still a little sore, but okay. It was _so_ damn weird when I took a shower 
this morning. I sure hope my mom doesn't see it."

I snorted. "Your mom inspects your puss?"

"No, but--"

"She's not going to see it. Fucking relax."

"I wonder what Mr. Taylor will think."

"I was thinking," I said. "You can't act like you know he's getting off on 
it. You have to act embarrassed about it."

"What do you mean?"

"Pretend like you really don't have any. How would you feel about doing this 
if you didn't? You know?"

"Oh. Oh. Yeah. I see what you mean."

"Otherwise it will blow it."

"Okay. What about the lesbo stuff?"

"Whatever he wants us to do, I guess."

We sat around my room for a few more minutes before he showed up. We met him 
at the door and went back up to my room. He kept looking back and forth 
between us like he couldn't believe this was happening. When we got to my 
room, he handed me a roll of money. I counted it quickly--eighteen 
hundreds--and shoved it into my purse. Meanwhile, Lauren was starting to 
look even more turned on than he was.

"So what do you want to do?" I asked him.

He took a deep breath, wiped his forehead, and sat in my desk chair. 
"Undress each other."

Lauren giggled a little and turned to me. We started pulling each other's 
clothes off, trying to be teases about it, not that we really knew anything 
about stripping. When we were down to our panties, Lauren began acting--and 
I knew she was acting--more coy and nervous about it. She pulled down my 
panties, and when I knelt to do hers, she stopped me at first.

"Come on," I said. "He's going to see it eventually."

Mr. Taylor's eyes bugged out. Lauren laughed nervously. "Can we wait a 
minute?" she asked.

I looked at Mr. Taylor. He shivered, and his eyes danced all over Lauren. 
"What's the matter?"

"You remember what you asked me?" I said. He gulped and nodded. He was 
staring right at Lauren's puss. "She's afraid you're going to laugh at her."

By now his face was all pale and sweaty. "I won't. I promise."

I pulled Lauren's panties down slowly. She covered herself with her hands at 
first, but then slowly let him see. His eyes looked like they were going to 
pop out of his head.

"I thought you were fourteen," he gasped

"I am," Lauren said. "I don't know why it's like this. I'm sorry." She shot 
me a sly glance, which thankfully Mr. Taylor didn't see, but then he was 
looking too hard at Lauren's bald puss.

Then he slid to the floor and moved right up next to her. He held out his 
hand and held it over Lauren's puss. She got very still for a moment, and 
when he touched her, she shivered slightly. Her hand went into mine and 
squeezed it.

And then Mr. Taylor grabbed her butt and started eating her. He dove right 
in and started sucking and slurping on her. Lauren almost lost her balance 
for a moment but then grabbed onto his head. Her face got all dizzy, and she 
shivered again. But she let him do it.

I stood there watching them for about a minute, not knowing what else to do. 
Mr. Taylor came up for air, seemed to notice me next to them, and turned to 
me. Now he was eating me like he'd done to Lauren. Lauren had gotten all 
flushed from what he'd been doing, and when Mr. Taylor starting sucking my 
puss, she leaned against me and kissed my neck. I wasn't sure what she was 
doing, but I couldn't think straight with what Mr. Taylor was doing to me.

Lauren kept kissing me softly, and her hand came up to cup one of my boobs. 
I realized Mr. Taylor was watching her while he ate me, so I turned to 
Lauren and started kissing her back. Mr. Taylor began making these grunting 
and moaning noises against my puss, and a few moments later, he stood up and 
started pulling off his clothes. Lauren and I kept making out until he 
pushed us toward the bed.

Getting the message, we lay down with him, one of us on each side. He kissed 
us back and forth and played with our tits. Every now and then he'd reach 
down and finger us. His dick was standing up like a flagpole now, all red 
and swollen, and I decided to slide down and give him some head. He let out 
a moan as I sucked him into my mouth. Lauren tried to come down and help me, 
but instead he pulled her up to sit on his face. So he started eating her 
hairless puss again while I blew him.

I'd finally had a chance to study our sex book, so I tried to work on Mr. 
Taylor's dick the way it said to, nibbling and licking all over him first. 
Meanwhile Lauren was whimpering and moaning and squirming around, and I 
could see Mr. Taylor's tongue lapping up at her. He didn't even seem to be 
paying attention to what I was doing. But that was fine, because I didn't 
really want him coming in my mouth again.

Lauren came after a few minutes more and flopped down onto the bed. Mr. 
Taylor pulled me up, and Lauren and I switched places. Except I wanted to 
watch her, and I'd seen this position in the sex book, so I sat on Mr. 
Taylor's mouth facing the other direction. He let me.

Lauren just slurped him up and began bobbing over him. I leaned down further 
and tried to whisper some advice to her. She looked embarrassed for a second 
but did what I told her to. Mr. Taylor was really starting to get me off by 
now, sucking my clit and sticking his tongue into me and even licking up to 
my butt, which freaked me out at first but felt good. I leaned way down to 
watch Lauren blowing him close-up, and as I got closer to coming, I started 
helping her. Mr. Taylor shivered under me and let out a moan, then started 
eating me even harder. That was as far as I could go, and he got me off 
about ten seconds later.

It was a good come, and I wanted to let it sink in, so I rolled off of him 
and lay on the bed catching my breath. I felt them moving around, and then I 
felt a face pushing between my legs. I thought for a second that it was Mr. 
Taylor coming for seconds, but I realized as I felt her hair that it was 
Lauren. She started licking me, all pointed and fluttery, just like she'd 
done the other day. I opened my eyes just long enough to see what Mr. Taylor 
was doing--just watching us--then lay back and let her get me off.

But Mr. Taylor had other ideas. Lauren was lying against me facing the other 
way, and he got her to climb on top of me just like I'd been on top of him. 
That put Lauren's bald puss right over my face. I closed my eyes, thought 
about the thousand bucks in my purse, and started eating her right back.

Now--okay, understand something a second. I was not not not not not a lesbo. 
But doing Lauren while she was doing me was really weird at the same time it 
was really fucking good. It felt so good that I completely forgot about Mr. 
Taylor and the money and the fact that I was fucking another girl and pretty 
much everything else, and just ate her. She seemed to be doing the same 
thing, and we just went around and around and came and came in a circle for 
I don't know how long until I finally came so hard that I just lost my grip 
on what was happening. Lauren lay on top of me shivering and shaking, but 
not until she fell to the side did I remember that Mr. Taylor was there 
watching the entire thing. And then I felt kind of icky. But only for a 
moment.

"That was wonderful," he said. "I never expected something like that."

I nodded, still pretty weak. "Do you want to fuck me now?"

He slid off the bed and went for a condom. I squirmed around and lay beside 
Lauren, who was still in orbit or something, and when he came back, I just 
spread my legs and let him in. I was so wet and orgasmed out that I hardly 
felt him, but he didn't seem to care. He grunted and moaned and pushed his 
dick in and out of me for a few minutes. Lauren came to and watched us, eyes 
all wide, but he came pretty soon after that, stabbing into me and 
shuddering.

---

"Wow," Lauren said when he was gone.

"Yeah, wow."

I wanted to say something about what we'd done to each other but I couldn't 
find the words. She seemed to have the same problem. I gave her the eight 
hundred, and she went home.

And I _still_ had to do it with Mr. Wellington tonight.

"Fuck," I said to no one.

---

[Ch.7 coming in a few days]

---

Hey you! If you liked this (or if you didn't and have suggestions for 
improvement), let me know.

_________________________________________________________________
Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.com

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