The Best Babysitter in Town Vol. 2 Ch. 4 (Patreon)

Gordy has younger siblings, I reminded myself when we got to the bathroom and saw bath toys on the rim of the tub. The guest room has an en suite bath, and given that Gordy is the oldest and his needs, you’d think he’d have that room, but I could also see Mrs. Rooney reserving the room for guests just to keep up appearances.

“How often do you have houseguests?”

“Not often. Why?”

“No reason.” He was one unhappy camper; I gave him a hug. Not a long one; just a quick one to remind him he would be fine. Not so happy for the next hour or so, but fine. “I’m sorry I have to do this. Be brave, and it’ll over quick.”

He nodded with this not-a-smile that reminded me he knew that already. It’s easy with Gordy to confused myself about whether I’m trying to reassure him or reassure myself. Both, maybe.

“Does she just use the soap in the dish,” I asked.

He shook his head. “Under the sink. Mine’s the blue box.

“Yours?” I bent down to look under the sink and saw three plastic soap boxes, the kind my dad takes on vacation, in green, pink, and blue. Gordy has two younger siblings. “She actually does this to Jamie and Jackie?”

“No. Their boxes are empty. It’s supposed to a warning. They don’t swear. They tell fibs, but they’re too little to tell lies, so …”

“Makes sense, I guess.” I didn’t like what Mrs. Rooney was doing with Gordy, and I despised her if she was doing it with the little ones. I surprised myself. I’ve never had strong feelings about physical discipline and spanking before, but then, I’d never known anyone who does it the way Mrs. Rooney does.

“Does she … When she spanks them, is it like when she spanks you?”

A blushing Gordy answered with a question. “How do you mean?”

“As hard and long as when she puts you over her knee.”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Yeah; age appropriate. That’s what she said the first time, after we came to our agreement. The first time, she never spanked me like that hard before.”

Makes sense – he may get spanked like a little boy, but at his age he needs a big boy spanking. Or at least that’s probably what Mrs. Rooney thought. I’d have thought the embarrassment of being put over a knee as an adult would be punishment enough even if she smacked his bottom with a feather.

I could see he was – surprise – uncomfortable talking about that, so I turned back to the almost-as-uncomfortable topic at hand. Yet uncomfortable as he was, and no doubt feeling sorry for himself, he asked, “Need me to talk you through it?” Such a sweet 20-year-old boy. Offering to help; how naughty could he really be to need this whole arrangement? Seriously.

“I’ve had this done to me before before. Been a while, but I remember,” I said with a feeling not quite nostalgia. Just trying to make him feel confident I knew what I was doing … which probably didn’t make him feel any better or worse. Made me feel a little better though.

“Sit down on the toilet … with the lid closed, silly.” I know toilets aren’t area of expertise, not that I’d ever say that to him, but kinda obvious, right?

“My stepmom has me stand,” he said as he sat down.

“Well, this is how I do it,” I said and added “apparently” under my breath as I opened the soapbox. I hadn’t ever done this, but apparently I had a way I do it already. I recognized the brand of soap from the scent. Between the overlapping teeth marks and the logo that had been washed away, I could tell this either an old bar or else this wasn’t a wholly rare event. “How often do you get your mouth washed out with soap,” I casually asked as I turned on the faucet because I’m not as careful with my words as I mean to be sometimes.

I got a muffled answer back, and when I turned toward him, there was Gordy pulling his shirt over his head, his torso just, ya know, out all of a sudden. “Gordy, what are you …”

His head popped out and he looked sheepish. No other way to describe it. “Um, I always …”

“Why?”

“It gets messy. Do you want me to put it back on?”

“No; it’s fine. Just surprised me, that’s all.” I think it just threw me for a moment because it took me by surprise; I mean, a naked torso is nothing. I’ve seen the whole boy naked before. Spanked his bottom, wiped his boy hole, touched his … thing. All of which I’d be doing again shortly, I reminded myself.

I took what I hope was an inconspicuously deep breath to calm my nerves a bit. It’s easy to get whiplash with Gordy. The first time I babysat him, I was surprised to find him in his jammies before dinnertime, and then I was way more surprised that he didn’t even cover himself when he was standing in front of me getting scolded before his spanking. And then I saw him on campus the week after and did a mental double-take like I’d forgotten he's a college student.

I quickly put the soap under the running water and rolled it in my hand a few times to lather it. Gordy watched me do it very intently. I shut the water off. The shirtless boy was still staring at the soap as I walked two steps to stand in front of him. Without anything else to do, it was time to start his punishment, but first, a scolding. I’d decided to save most of it for the spanking, but I had to say something, right? Didn’t seem right to just rush into the punishment without saying something.

“Do you know why you’re getting your mouth washed out with soap?”

He sighed and looked off into the middle distance. I couldn’t tell what his sigh meant; here-we-go-again self-pity, or just tired? “Because I lied.”

“Lies are dirty; that’s why they get washed out of your mouth.” I think maybe possibly I sounded like I meant that. I’m pretty good at sounding sincere when I’m scolding for things I don’t feel so strongly about but the parents do. “What are you going to do in the future?”

“Tell the truth.”

“Tell the truth. We can’t help you if you don’t tell the truth.”

As soon as I said it, I asked myself who the hell is ‘we?’ Did I just make a rhetorical team out of myself and the stepmonster, because I didn’t mean to. Did I mean women in general? No. I guess ‘we’ is the people who care for him. Which is different than aligning myself with the stepmonster … somehow, in a very important way. So very glad I have a poker face and didn’t project any inner turmoil to Gordy. He probably wishes I had though, because there wasn’t anything else to do or say, just a mouth to wash out.

“Open wide.” The obedient if a bit mischievous twenty-year-old opened wide, and not liking what I had to do, I put the bar of soap in his mouth.

The very last time I’d been on the receiving end of a mouth soaping – and here’s a tip: you can never curse so far under your breath that your mom can’t hear you call her a bitch, which I regret but in my defense I was in the throes of hormonal teendom, a time when we all say stuff we don’t mean – my mom held the hair at the back of my head so I couldn’t pull away, so I reached around Gordy and gently but firmly held on to his hair. He didn’t try to get away or turn his head or close his mouth. I guess his stepmom has him well-trained at mouth soaping. He groaned; he shut his eyes tight; and he looked like a very sorry boy, but he didn’t resist.

I wasn’t very aggressive with the soap. I pushed it back and forth on his tongue a couple times and circled the inside of his cheeks, but that was it. I didn’t scrape any onto his teeth or work up a serious lather.

“Bite down,” I told him, and he did, still without opening his eyes. “Hold that there. Two minutes.” I got out my phone and set the timer for two minutes with the hand that wasn’t covered in soap and then rinsed my hands off. I leaned back against the wall.

Gordy was breathing audibly through his nose, and he was right to take off his shirt. Quite the mess was running down his chin and onto his chest. We’ll call it soap instead of drool because that’s better than saying he was getting soapy drool all over himself. And maybe it’s the effect of growing up with entertainment no farther than a phone – at least, that’s what older people would say – but two minutes with nothing at all to do feels long. But it’s even longer when you have a bar of soap in your mouth. Next time – if there is one and how weird would that be, no thank you very much – I’d make it thirty seconds instead.

The timer went off, and I pushed myself off the wall. I took the soap between my thumb and forefinger and said, “You can open now.” She must have him super well trained because he just sat there. He moved his jaw and smacked his lips and opened his eyes, but he didn’t rush to the sink. The submissive, half-naked boy sat obediently while I pulled the hand towel off its bar and wiped Gordy’s mouth, chest, and tummy. We made eye contact for a moment, and talk about your puppy dog eyes. He was practically pleading with those eyes, not that I was making him wait on purpose. I just didn’t want that mess to get on his pants.

“You can rinse.” Good thing I stepped out of his way as I said that or else he might have bowled me over. He bent over the sink and rinsed straight from the faucet. His diaper was peeking out from the back of his pants. He looked small. A not very nice word that starts with a T and ends in ‘wink’ came to mind. That’s what he looks like, and add to that the diaper peekage and how bashful and submissive he is. He’s cute, like a puppy who wants so badly to please but gets in trouble and makes great big forgive-me eyes at you.

I leaned over him with my hand on his back and gave his shoulders a rub. “You did really good. Thank you for being so cooperative. Rinse some more and maybe brush your teeth, and I’ll be waiting in your room to give you your spanking.”

I didn’t swat him on the butt to preview his spanking. I patted him on his butt because it’s in a diaper. It’s like some kind of atavistic need! You see a butt in a diaper, and you just have to pat it.

I turned and looked at him again, just a quick glance. The way he sat so still and followed my instructions and just seemed so small sitting in front me all but pouting and didn’t even try to move away during his punishment. I’d known what a submissive is for a month. I wondered if Gordy knew the term. I couldn’t ask, of course, because he’d ask me why I was asking, and the truth might hurt his feelings. I don’t ever want to hurt Gordy’s feelings.