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The Babysitter

jordan

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Joined
May 6, 2001
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The Babysitter:

Amanda parked her bike out in front of the Johnson’s estate and stood starring up at the huge mansion. Amanda couldn’t believe the enormous size of it. Amanda stood there a few more seconds before she shook her head and jogged through the large steel gates and up the front stoop. Amanda tucked her helmet under her arm, and rapped on the door.

Amanda heard shuffling of feet inside and, suddenly the door flew open. Mrs. Johnson stood in front of her with a large smile on her face, and invited her inside. “Thanks for coming!” She said, closing the door behind them. Amanda nodded and noticed something familiar about the mansion already. Instead of the front door being connected to the mansion, it was in a separated in another room.

Mrs. Johnson led Amanda into another room where a girl, about her age sat reading a magazine. “Here she is!” Mrs. Johnson said, lightly shoving Amanda in front of the girl. The girl wasn’t paying attention. “Here’s your babysitter Brittany!” Mrs. Johnson said, in a louder voice. Brittany sighed and looked up, only for her face to turn beat red.

“YOU WERE SERIOUS!” Brittany shouted! Mrs. Johnson jumped when her daughter screamed at here, but composed her self and leaned forward, their noses nearly touching. “You scream at me again, like I’m a dog and I will whip you all over this house!” Mrs. Johnson said in a whisper of rage.

Brittany rolled her eyes and returned to her magazine. “A hollow threat...” Amanda said, to herself. Mrs. Johnson pushed out some hair from her eyes and smiled. “Listen, we have to take a piece of glass to be fixed, or remade.” Mrs. Johnson said, turning and pointing at a table in front of a couch. “The origin of Brittany’s babysitting needs.” Mrs. Johnson said in a low voice.

Amanda nodded as Mrs. Johnson ran through the do’s and don’t for Brittany like she was two-year old. Amanda was feeling a little embarrassed for Brittany, a little... Suddenly Mr. Johnson bounded from a large flight of stairs, in his hands he held a large piece of glass, a large crack in the middle.

Mrs. Johnson turned and was about to leave with Mr. Johnson, when she turned and pointed at Brittany. “If she misbehaves, I don’t care what you do!” Mrs. Johnson said, in a stern voice. Amanda nodded and the couple left. Amanda sighed and walked towards a large window, as Mrs. and Mr. Johnson started there car and left.

Amanda turned to face Brittany, who was now starring menacingly at her. “Lets get a couple of things straight...” Brittany said, getting to her feet. Amanda took a step back as Brittany came closer. “I don’t care that Mom, and Dad put you in charge.” She began. “I don’t have to listen to you no matter what you say!” Brittany said.
“You play it cool, you won’t bother me. You can get your fifty bucks and leave!” Brittany said, now inches away from Amanda. “You got me?” Brittany said, shoving Amanda in the shoulder. Amanda didn’t like to be shoved, so she sucked in her anger and nodded. “GOOD!” Brittany screamed, shoving her again.

Amanda lost her cool and grabbed Brittany around the waist and wrestled her to the ground. Brittany let out a cry of surprise as, the two fell to the ground in a small heap. Amanda, some how wrestled Brittany and pinned her on her stomach, and held her hands behind her back with her knee.

“I’m telling Mom you’re playing rough!” Brittany giggled. Amanda however wasn’t listening as she pulled off her own shoes and took out the shoelaces. Taking one hand out from under her knee and wrestling the lace around it and tying it to the other. Soon Brittany’s hands were bound from behind.

Amanda stood as Brittany tried to stand, but Amanda grabbed her ankles and dragged her to the table, without the glass. Taking out her other shoelace, Amanda bound Brittany’s legs together and than tied them to the table. Brittany lay, there struggling against the tie, but couldn’t escape. “Let me up!” Brittany demanded.

Amanda shook her head. Standing above Brittany now in socks, Amanda began to giggle. “Don’t laugh at me!” Brittany screamed. Amanda only laughed harder. “Who’s tickling you?” Brittany asked, annoyed. “What did you say?” Amanda asked. “Who’s tickling you?” Brittany repeated, in a confused tone. “Why?” She asked. Amanda didn’t say a word for a moment.

“Brittany...” Amanda began, “are you ticklish?” Amanda asked. As the words left Amanda’s lips and hit Brittany’s ears, her eyes went wide and she began to wiggle harder. Amanda stepped through the middle of the table, where the glass should have been and sat starring at her feet. “She wore high-heels, with black stockings, and a pretty red dress and dirty blonde hair, with dark streaks that ran from the top of her head.

As Amanda seized the bottoms of Brittany’s heels and began slipping them off, Brittany screamed and giggled. “No...Please!” Brittany giggled. “So... that means you are ticklish?” Amanda asked. A teasing seconds later, Brittany black stockings starred longing to be tickled at Amanda.

Leaning forward, Amanda sniffed the feet causing more giggles from the captive. “No...” Brittany begged, in a baby tone. “You shouldn’t have acted so spoiled!” Amanda said, accusingly. “What would you do, if your parents forced a girl the same age to baby-sit you?” Brittany asked. Amanda sat thinking. “I would have taken off my shoes, and prepared myself for a tickling!” Amanda, teased as she ran her fingers over Amanda’s feet.

“HEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Brittany screamed, as she wiggled and begged for Amanda to stop.

Brittany always hated when her feet were tickled, and since she wore stockings this intensified the torture. Brittany kicked her feet, as she tried to fight off Amanda’s tickling fingers, but since her toes were hitting against the top of the table, it was impossible. Brittany screamed louder and her begging intensified.

“PLEASE...GOD...PLEASE...GOD...STOP...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....STOP...STOP!” Brittany giggled.

Amanda was pleased with this reaction, and she didn’t realize that tickling could teach anyone a lesson. She remembered all the other babysitting jobs she had, with similar brats and how she had to wait until the parents got home to take care of her problem, but now just a couple of quick strokes with her fingers and already she’s sorry.

Amanda attacked the arches a while, and than between the toes. Every place Amanda tickled seemed to intensify the torture. Brittany’s face was red and seemed a bit strained as she tried to get used to all the tickling, but since Amanda kept changing positions tickling her feet, it was impossible.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Brittany laughed, even harder as the minutes ticked by. Hours seemed to have passed. Brittany wiggled as hard as she could to get free, but it seemed to be impossible.

Amanda danced her fingers all over Brittany’s ticklish feet, and every minute that passed seemed like hours. Amanda sighed to her self and stopped. “About time!” Brittany breathed deeply. Amanda shook her head and giggled. “Who said I was done?” Amanda asked, stepping out of the table. Brittany began to struggle hard against the ties, but it was helpless.

Amanda made a quick run of the house grabbing a fork, a comb (the one with a lot of bristles) and a couple quill feathers. Skipping back into the living room, she passed a pair of scissors and picked them up and finally made her way into the living room. Amanda walked around the table, and teasingly laid the items in front of her. Except the scissors she kept in her back pocket.

Brittany’s eyes went wide as Amanda took her place in the table. Taking out the scissors she cut a large hole in each of Brittany’s stockings and than tore them off completely. Brittany the whole time kicked her feet. Amanda scratching her chin picked up the comb. Brittany laid still as Amanda began to rack it down her feet. As the tickle began, Brittany screeched in ticklish laughter.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Amanda held back her toes and racked it faster and than slow. It was torture! Brittany’s voice kept getting louder and louder and soon her, “OH...PLEASE...STOP!” and “GOD...MERCY...PLEASE!” Seemed like it was a record being ran at high speeds. Brittany’s face was redder than it was when she was angry.

Seconds passed when Amanda put down the comb and picked up the fork. “Please stop...” Brittany pleaded. Amanda wasn’t listening her mind was focused on her tickling. “I wouldn’t move if I were you.” Amanda warned. Brittany held her breath and bit into her lower lip as Amanda began to rack the fork over Brittany’s heels.

Brittany rocked back and fourth, suppressing her laugh. Minutes slowly ticked by and as Amanda moved up the middle of Brittany’s foot a laugh tried to escape. “Please...” Brittany begged, not wanting to move her foot in fear she might get hurt. Another minute passed and Brittany couldn’t hold her breath any longer. Amanda quickly dropped the fork and attacked Brittany’s feet with her fingers.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Brittany screamed. Her mind didn’t feel and better and her sides began to hurt.

Amanda than stopped and picked up the quill feathers and held one each hand. As quickly as she could Amanda racked the feathers over both feet at once, Brittany screamed and rocked as hard as she could, tears streamed down her face. Brittany’s laughter became more constant and she didn’t scream as often.

Suddenly the front door opened and Brittany’s parents walked in. “MOM, DAD!” Brittany screamed, for help. “Hi honey!” Mrs. Jones said glancing at her daughter. Her smile didn’t change when she saw her tied, with Amanda standing over her with two quill feathers. Mr. Jones walked in and leaned the glass against a sidewall and stood next to Mrs. Jones.

“Well look at you two!” Mrs. Jones said, in surprise. “Mom help!” Brittany begged. “Ah, good the twos getting along good.” Mr. Jones said. “Dad please!” Brittany turned her attention to him. “Honey, we will be out longer than we thought. So we though we should tell you two. You will Amanda dear, you will be paid extra. And Brittany mind Amanda!” Mrs. Jones warned. Both parents waved and left the house, with Brittany begging and calling for help.

“I guess now we can continue!” Amanda said, as she began to tickle Brittany’s feet harder this time. “NO....HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Brittany screamed, with the sound of her parents car driving away...

THE END
 
Good job. Very unique bondage, not to mention story line. It's also rare to find a story where the babysitee is being tickled instead of the babysitter. There is one inconsistency in the story though you might want to look at in case you ever go to repost this story. At the beginning of the story, the parents are identified as the Johnsons, but when they return home (briefly), they are identified as the Jones. Great story!

pantsonfire
 
Nice story!!!

I also like the shoelaces!!!

Would love to read a continuation, and if you can place some more tickling spots other than merely the feet!
 
nylon tickling...

I have a question. Why is it, that whenever a ticklee is in nylons, usually a great deal of detail is used in describing how great their feet look in the hose, and how much it intensifies the ticklishness, etc., etc., ....then they cut or rip the nylons off.:confused: :confused: It doesnt make sense to me. If you want bare feet, that's fine. But if you have nylons on.... let's keep them on! I have tickled woman in nylons hundreds of times and let me tell you, they are just as ticklish at the end as they were at the start. And their feet look just as sexy when I finished tickling them in nylons as they did when I started!!!:D Am I missing something here?????:sowrong: :(
 
Simple question simple answer

People cut the nylons off (in movies/stories) so it appeals to a larger majority to people who like plain bare feet. When I do it I show the tickling going somewhere. "Hard to explain"

Thanks for the replies and questions, I hope you liked my story!
 
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