Chapter 21: Babysitter Rape

Dory recovered and shortly after she returned home, she and my father went away on vacation for several days. It was then that my babysitter moved in to take care of the house and keep an eye on me.

My keeper was a twenty-one-year-old local college student named Ron and according to my dad, he was something of an athlete and a star of his college swim team.

Things went pretty well for the first few days. Ron did his thing (beer drinking) and I mostly ignored him. When not ignoring Ron, I hung out around the apartment’s cloudy bleach smelling swimming pool, flirting with a sunbathing girl about my age named Amber. I was pretending to get a suntan when in truth I just wanted to be close to her. The first stirrings of puberty were at work.

Amber was a petite girl with moderately developed breasts and a slim figure. She had a natural tan and a beautiful smile and looked fantastic in her red bikini. She seemed amused by my abysmal attempts at flirting.

I was too shy and tongue-tied to say anything that imperiled Amber’s innocence. I did manage to sneak a few quick glances down the top of her bathing suit, and my reward was a fleeting glimpse of what I think was a nipple.

A burning sensation on my back told me I had overdosed on UV and needed to call it a day or find shade. I called it quits, packed up, retreated to our air-conditioned apartment, and headed for the shower. I lowered the water temperature to tepid and stepped under the spray. I relaxed in the relief of water cooler than the forest fire burning on my back and neck.

When my toes and fingers started to look like dried prunes, I stepped out of the shower just as my babysitter came into the bathroom. Ron took one look at me and said, “Dennis, you got too much sun today. That is a severe burn.”

“Awe, I’ve had worse; it only stings a little,” I lied as I wrapped a towel around my waist.

“I’ve got just the thing for sunburns. We use it on the swim team when we get too much sun. Come into the bedroom and I’ll put some on you. First, I’ve gotta to take a quick shower,” he said.

I grabbed a New Yorker magazine from the coffee table, went into my father’s bedroom, and lay down. I found New Yorker’s cartoons to be fascinating insights into the mind of adults. I got about a third of the jokes; I think I got most of the other third of the humor but the final third left me utterly baffled.

A couple of minutes later the sitter walked in, drying his crew cut with a towel. Another towel was wrapped around his waist.

“Let me see what I can do about that sunburn,” he said as he dug through his gym bag and produced a bottle of lotion.

He sat down next to me, opened the bottle, and poured a splash of oil into the palm of his hand. He began to rub it onto my sunburned back. I had not realized how much I was hurting until I started to feel better. The cold lotion felt very soothing on the heat of my sunburn.

Ron complimented me on my physique, telling me I could become an excellent athlete if I worked out and developed my natural ability. I felt a rush of pride at his praise.

“Becoming an athlete means learning how to take care of your body,” he explained.

Again I felt pride and very grown up talking about “man things.” Getting treated as something other than a child by an adult is a pretty heady experience for a boy of twelve.

We talked about my stepmother’s recent suicide attempt. Ron was understanding, thoughtful, and considerate. It felt good to have a real conversation about current events. My dad had become preoccupied and distant while brushing the whole thing to one side as if it was a minor event not worthy of note.

Ron patted the bed and said, “After everything that has happened to you, it is not surprising that your muscles are tense. Lie down, Dennis, and I’ll give you a special massage to help you relax.”

I lay in the center of the bed and rested my head on the pillow. I was curious about the “special massage.”

Ron the sitter liked young boys, and his “special rub” was just another name for rape.

As I remember the events of that day, I can recall my babysitter’s body in great detail. I can hear the sound of his voice. I can remember everything except Ron’s last name and his face. In my memory, he is a nameless and faceless shadow...

The towel around his waist dropped to the floor as Ron lands. Seeing my look of surprise at his sudden nudity, he laughs and says, “Don’t worry. There are no girls around and it’s just us guys. Nothing we’ve not seen before.” The way he speaks makes everything seem cool. It feels good to be one of the guys instead of just a kid.

Ron continues to chat away as he climbs onto the bed and straddles my back with his knees on each side of me and begins to massage my shoulders. I relax as his warm hands spread the soothing oil across my body.

Taking his time, he works his way down to my lower back and pauses, “Dennis, we are going to have to get rid of that towel. It is getting in the way.”

Before I can respond, he pulls the towel away and I am naked. He begins to spread oil on the cheeks of my ass. No one had touched me there since I was out of diapers. His hands send a thrilling tingle through me, which is hard to describe. I feel a sense of uncomfortable pleasure at being naked and exposed.

After caressing the cheeks of my ass for several minutes, he shifts position and I feel his private parts rubbing against my bare bottom as he starts to massage my shoulders. Not knowing what to say, I say nothing.

After rubbing my shoulders, he shifts position again and returns his attention to my exposed bottom. His soft hands trace circles on my ass and the sides of my thighs. With each pass, he slides his hands further and further under my hips. I feel his fingers reaching for my private parts. I tense up.

Ron feels my discomfort. His stops rubbing me and with a laugh and a quick slap on my ass, he says, “Dennis, there’s no need to worry. It is all part of the personal massage athletes get. Just relax and enjoy it.”

Although the sensation of his hands massaging my back and bottom is pleasant, it it is also somewhat creepy having a man’s private parts resting between the cheeks of my ass.

Part of me knows that what was happening crosses every boundary of regular babysitting. I have never been naked with another naked person since the day I stopped taking baths with my sister when I was eight years old. The feeling of his erection moving between my legs is uncomfortable and arousing at the same time. Half of me wants to run away, and half of me is curious and wants to explore the new feelings stirring within my body.