The Professor and the Hippies (part 1)

By jersey_tickler & Nickdust


INT: Dr. Kensington's Classroom - Day

Dr. Barbara Kensington stood up at her white marker board, and made a list with a black marker while lecturing to her class. She was currently teaching her English Lite class, and the book they were currently working on was George Orwell's Animal Farm. Most of her students were college freshman, with a handful of sophomores included. Aside from American Lite, Barbara also taught English 102, English 103, and during the fall semester she taught a Creative Writing class. For seven years, Barbara had been teaching at Hamilton University, since obtaining her Ph.D in English Lite. The English professor was thirty five years old, conservative, intelligent, kind, yet curt when it came to teaching the eager young minds of tomorrow. Barbara stood 5'9', blonde hair wrapped up in a professional bun, and a pair of dark framed glasses rested on her ears and the bridge of her nose. She wore a dark brown business suit, with a baby blue blouse, and she even wore a navy ascot around her collar. Her students listened attentively while the English professor.

Barbara: So, after the Rebellion is when Napoleon, the pig, takes power. Now, who in the book, does Napoleon represent? Anyone, c'mon, don't be shy.

Jason, a blonde haired athlete, who rarely raised his hand, decided to do vice versea. After raising his hand, Barbara gave him a nod and gesture with her hand.

Barbara: Yes, Jason?

Jason: He represents Joseph Stalin.

Barbara: Very good, Jason, you are correct. The character of Napoleon is meant to be a satirized version of Joseph Stalin, the famous Russian dictator. Now, I know this isn't World History, but since there are elements of history in this story, we might as well cover it. Who knows, it may come in handy, should any of you take Professor Williams class next semester.

A few students gave a chuckle at that comment, because Barbara wasn't exactly a humorous teacher. But the English professor continued on with her tangent.

Barbara: Now, as you already covered in the previous chapter, Napoleon has overthrown Snowball, just like Joseph Stalin overthrew Leon Trotsky after the Russian Rebellion. Only Napoleon's army consists of his nine attack dogs, that he raised in secret when they were puppies. Then what rule of law does Napoleon break once he's taken power?

A pretty girl named Anna raised her hand, she was a C student, but she tried hard. Barbara gave Anna a nod after seeing her hand go up.

Anna: Napoleon moves into Farmer Jone's house, and it was against Animal law for an animal to live in a house.

Barbara: Exactly, good call Anna. Napoleon feels that because he's a dictator, that the rules of Anima Law don't apply to him. It's the beginning of him becoming-

While she spoke, Barbara couldn't help but notice something that was becoming a reoccurring theme in her class as of late. A theme that Barbara deemed "improper and UN-ladylike.

One of her best students, in fact it was her only straight A student, Violet Starr.

Violet was nineteen years old, had long brown curly hair, stood 5'7' and constantly wore tye dye, ripped jeans, or bohemian dresses with no underneath. Today, Violet wore a tye dye shirt that she actually dyed herself, and a pair of faded jeans that had holes at the knees. That and she normally wore sandals, but today she had not even worn shoes. Her bare feet were resting on an unoccupied desk in front of her desk. The soles of her size eights were dusty but not too dirty. Each one of her toenails were painted a different color to contrast with her tye dye shirt, they almost looked like Skittles. She had a toe ring on each one of her middle toes and right now she was wiggling them in delight to Barbara's lecture, as Animal Farm was one of her favorite stories.

Barbara: Uhhhhh, Napoleon becomes more human-like

Violet curled her toes.

Barbara: More human-like and-

Violet wiggled her big toe as if she was waving at Barbara.

Barbara: And less of a

Violet now wiggled both her big toes, making them wave.

Barbara: Piggy.

Then she realized what she said and gave a small chuckle, it was her only defense mechanism.

Barbara: Errr, excuse me class, he becomes more human-like and less of a pig.

Then she glanced at the clock, it was ten minutes until class got over. It was Friday though, perhaps letting them go early would be alright. Besides it would give her time to flag down Violet and remind her of the rules of her classroom, and maybe even offer to buy her a pair of shoes if necessary.

Barbara: Well, that's it for today, class. Please read Chapter Four and Five for Monday, we'll be having a quiz on those chapters during the last half of class. Enjoy your weekend.

All the students got up and left, but Barbara singled out Violet.

Barbara: Excuse me, Violet?

The hippie girl turned around and smiled.

Violet: Yes, Professor?

Barbara: Could you meet me in my office in five minutes, I just want to have a moment or two of your time.

Violet: Of course, just let me use the ladies room.

Barbara: By all means, see you in five.

She felt like a Nazi, but it had to be done! (My homage to the late Hunter Thompson)


Barbara sat at her desk, waiting patiently for Violet. She impatiently tapped her leather booted feet, because Violet was more than five minutes late. After a deep sigh, Barbara reached into her purse and pulled out a vile of pills. This was her Xanax, something that calmed her down when she was stressed out. And when one of her students violated one of her cardinal rules of the classroom, it did a number on her stress level. How dare she come into her classroom barefoot with her dirty feet on a vacant seat. If she was a guest at someone's house, would she dare put those flithy things on a coffee table while drinking lemonade? Popping the tiny white pill in her mouth, she washed it down with her bottled water. Giving a sigh of relief, she placed the lid back on the vial.

Then she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Almost instinctively, Barbara placed the vile back in her purse and without thinking, she stuck the purse under her desk. In waltzed Violet. All chipper and perky, which was the norm of her bohemian disposition. She was still barefooted, much to the English professor's dismay.

Violet: Hey Professor, you wanted to see me?

Barbara: Oh, you're finally here. Please, won't you take a seat?

Violet: Thanks!

The hippie girl took a seat across from Barbara's desk, and placed her hands down in her lap.

Barbara: You know, out of every student in your class, you're the only one with an A. Your contributions are always well-written, and I just wanted to tell you I'm very glad to have you as a student.

Violet: Why, thank you, Professor.

Barbara: That being said, we do have a little issue to discuss about your feet.

Violet: My feet?

Barbara: Don't be cute, Miss Star. What are you thinking, coming barefoot into class? We do have a dress code here, Ms. Starr.

Violet: Well, I'm sorry, Professor, but I just can't stand shoes. I assumed it would be alright, because none of my other professors find it offensive.

Barbara knew that wasn't true, but decided not to argue with Violet about it.

Barbara: Regardless of what the other professors say, I can't have you frolicking in here barefoot. You're supposed to provide an example for the other students! What inspired this little stunt of yours in the first place?

Violet: Well, I love my feet, and I like the way they look all decked out with different color polish and my toe rings. I love making my feet pretty, and showing them off. I get a lot of compliments on them too, so I really dare to be bare for my fans, hehe.

This was more difficult than Barbara anticipated, but she was not about to forfeit this debate just yet.

Barbara: But this isn't a beach, Ms. Starr, it's my classroom. You should try to take the rules of a classroom seriously. Besides, a true lady never goes barefoot in public.

Violet: Wait a minute, are you trying to tell me that whenever you're alone in your office, you never shed your footwear and prop your naked feet on your desk and take a load off?

Barbara: Certainly not, this is my professional setting. I would never imagine putting my bare feet on the same place I grade your papers, it's inappropriate.

Violet: That's so sad, Professor, you work so hard and are on your feet all day long, in those uncomfortable looking boots.

And on that note Violet tapped the tops of Barbara's boots with her bare toes, as if inviting her teacher to take them off.

Barbara: Please refrain from trying to play footsie with me, Miss Star. You may play that silly game with your groovy friends, but I don't find it cute or funny. Am I clear on that, dear?

Violet: Crystal, Professor. But I do have a tiny suggestion. Why don't you put my theory to the test and take off your boots. Go barefoot like me, and in return I will give you my famous foot massage.

Barbara: Ummm, i don't think so, Miss Starr, that would not be appropriate.

Violet: Awwww, don't be shy, Professor, I'm sure you have beautiful feet. A successful college professor like you, I'm sure you get pedicures once a week.

More like once a month, and it was something Barbara did when experiencing PMS. But still, there was no way in hell that she would strip off her boots and socks in front of a student. In her own office no less, what if the Dean happened to come down the hallway and stick his head through her door? How inappropriate would that be, how inappropriate would that look? It would look like Barbara was giving Violet an A on a paper in exchange for massaging her feet. Any speculation of a college professor using her power and influence to maniupulate a student could result in termination. But Barbara shook the thought out of her head and continued to lecture Violet.

Violet only half listened, because her toes had found Barbara's purse under her desk, and were poking around in there. Finding what felt like a tiny bottle against her toes intrigued her and formed a gleam in her eyes.

Barbara: I understand your need to express yourself, but there have to be limits. As much as you love it, your bare feet are a distraction. Would I let Anna come to class in daisy dukes? I think not! It's nothing personal, Ms. Starr.

Violet: Well, I see your point, Professor.

Her toes picked up the vile of Xanax and removed it from her professor's purse. Viole had set her purse down next to the professor's desk, so she reached down and quickly placed the Xanax in her own purse. Then her head popped back up and she faced Barbara.

Violet: Sorry, had an itch on my foot that needed a scratch, hehe. Anyway, I hear what you're saying, and I dig where you're coming from. I respect your rules, I respect your classroom, and I love your class too. I promise next Monday, to wear shoes in your classroom.

Barbara: That's all I can ask for. Thank you for being reasonable about this.

Violet: You're welcome, Professor, sorry to have been a drag. Have a wonderful weekend!

Barbara: Oh I will! I finally have a whole weekend to myself where I don't have to go to some conference or grade a million papers. See you on Monday, Ms. Starr.

They shook hands, and Violet couldn't help but notice how soft they were and wondered if her feet had the same softness. Then she excused herself and slung her purse over her shoulder. Exiting Barbara's office, with a sly smirk on her face.

The perfect bait to set a trap for dear Dr. Barbara Kensington.


One hour later.....

Barbara had finished grading papers for the week, it was her usual Friday ritual. If she stayed an hour or two later, she could just go home and leave her work at the office. Tomorrow night she had a date with a gentleman who was a few years older than her. He was a psychatrist, clean cut, Republican, and had a great relationship with his mother. He was also an avid reader too, like Barbara. The ink on Barbara's divorce had been dry for far too long, after the day she found a credit card bill for the Holiday Inn. Her cheating bastard husband, now ex husband had no choice but to pay alimony for five years of marriage. Which ultimately had helped Barbara get her Ph.D.

After placing the graded papers in her manila folders, Barbara turned off her computer and began to pack her briefcase. Even though she didn't have homework for the weekend, she wanted to clean it out and organize it better. Reaching down under her desk, she grabbed her purse and placed it back on top of the desk. Barbara then decided to do a pill count and see how many Xanax she had left. But to her surprise, the vial was gone. Her eyes widened and then a horrific thought went through her mind, only one word came to mind.

Violet.

That sneaky little thief had somehow gotten in her purse when Barbara's guard was down, but how? The girl never even reached under her desk. But then, she remembered seeing the hippie girl bending over to itch her naked foot. She must've used her toes to dig into her purse and steal the bottle.

Barbara (angry): That little bitch! Coming into class barefoot was bad enough, now she's taking my medication?!

Well, there was only one thing left to do, go to that hole in the wall frat house she lived in and retrieve her stolen pills. After all, it was just a mile from campus and on her way home. Quickly gathering her things, Barbara locked her office and walked quickly to her Range Rover. She would use the fear of authority to scare that hippie young girl into giving her Xanax back, and promise to not call the police if she simply handed them over. A part of Barbara worried about Violet too, she was a brilliant student who could write a thousand word straight A paper, and if she was into drugs then it could be the beginning of a domino effect that could ruin her college education. As furious as she was, Barbara still cared about Violet, as she did all her students. Unfortunately Violet had also stolen from her, and getting robbed by her students was extremely inappropriate.

Ext: Gonzo Delta House - Dusk

Walking up the steps to the frat house's porch, Barbara could hear the floorboards crack underneath her brown leather boots, the house needed a few minor repairs. Ignoring the annoying creaks of the boards, Barbara knocked loudly on the front door. A minute later, the door opened, but it wasn't Violet who answered it. Instead, it was another girl. A rather larger girl, who towered over Barbara, making her feel like David to Goliath. A student that Barbara didn't really care for, and had given her a C for her class last semester, Ivy Green.

Ivy was 6'3', had jet black hair, and had a stocky build. She had some thickness to her body, but she wasn't a fat. She wore a long purple skirt, and a black tank top. She actually looked glad to see Barbara.

Ivy: Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise, Dr. Barbara Kensington, to what do i owe the pleasure of this visit.

Barbara: I need to talk to Violet, immediately. It's rather important if you don't mind.

Ivy: Oh you're here to see, Violet? Groovy, come right in, she's in the conversation pit.

The conversation pit turned out to be the lower level to the living room, which was about four steps down from the living room. There was a long round couch which had a table in the middle. And sitting on that couch was Violet. She had changed from her tye dye shirt and jeans to a pink dress. Her naked size eights rested on the table while she took hits from a water bong. As soon as she exhaled, she gave a slight cough and looked up to the top of the stairs to see her favorite college professor standing with her her arms crossed.

Violet: Oh hi, Professor (cough). How nice of you to visit, please, come down and have a seat.

Barbara stormed down the steps and walked over to where the girl sat. She would be curt with Violet, but not lose her temper in the process. She could smell the aroma of marijuana coming from the bong as Violet took a another hit. Barbara waved a hand in front of her face to fan the smoke. Her suit would need an earlier date at the dry cleaning, after leaving here.

Barbara: Don't play games with me, young lady, you know perfectly well I am not here to visit. You took my Xanax and I would like them back. If you comply and give them to me, I shall forget that it ever happened, and I will especially forget about what I'm seeing now. You DO know marijuana is illegal, Ms. Starr, don't you?

Violet exhaled and blew out a small cloud of smoke, away from Barbara when she did so.

Violet: Well, that's a kind offer, Professor. Although I should warn you that myself and other members here have written documents signed by doctors for medical marijuana.

Barbara bit her lip, so much for leverage.

Barbara: Regardless, this is not what I expected from a straight A student. Is this what you do when you leave class, prop your filthy feet on that godforsaken table and smoke dope all day? 1968 was a long time ago, young lady.

Violet gave a chuckle, most of it was from the weed, but it was too funny.

Violet: Oh, my dear, Professor, I didn't take your pills so that I could take them for myself. I don't do pills or powders, only organic plants that grow in the ground. I took them so that you'd show up here, and sure enough you did. I'll be happy to give you back your precious little white pills, if you do something for me.

Barbara: And what exactly would that be?

Violet: Grab a seat, remove those uncomfortable boots and socks if you're wearing any. Then place your feet on the table, and let me rub them.

Barbara: I already told you once Ms. Starr that there is absolutely no chance of that EVER happening. While you might enjoy your little hippie commune here, I don't understand why you can't just wear shoes like a normal human being. Why are you so interested in feet, anyway?

Violet: I love feet, ever since I was little. I love everything about feet. All various sizes, the toes, the soles, the shape, the smell. I almost get wet down south, just thinking about feet.

This was too much information for the English professor, who wasn't exactly repulsed by feet that were well taken care of. But still, how dare she extort her with an ultimatum like that. Giving her back the Xanax if she stripped her feet bare and let this drugged out hippie rub them. Barbara did not like her feet being touched, unless it was someone she was intimate with. Violet was not in that category.

Barbara: No means no. I am not here to expose my feet, they are perfectly fine in the boots. You should invest in some, along with a few repairs to this shack!

Violet: Please, pretty please, let me see your feet? I've been fantasizing about seeing you barefoot since the first day of class.

Barbara: Fantasizing about ME barefoot? You have crossed the line, young lady! I will not sit here and listen to whatever deranged foot fetish fantasies you might be entertaining! Good day, Ms. Starr!

She turned around to leave and bumped smack into Ivy.

Ivy: Leaving so soon, Dr. Barbie.

Barbara: Excuse me, Ms. Starr? You know, that was always your problem- too much snark and not enough sense! Now could you please stand aside?

The hulk girl grabbed Barbara and held her in a bear hug. Then she bent down and sniffed her hair.

Barbara: What the...hey! Let me go!

As she tried to break the larger woman's strong grip, Barbara regretted not attending those self-defense classes the women's center had offered two months ago. All that time spent in the library and not the gym left her utterly helpless in Ivy's bear hug.

Ivy: Loreal, is it, your shampoo. You shouldn't wash your hair every day, the natural fragrance is so much better.

Barbara: Fragrance? I could smell you from the third row every day last semester! Now let me go before you all get yourselves in a heap of trouble!

Ivy: I don't think so, Barbie. Oh and you're off the clock, you can let that pretty blonde hair down now.

The tall raven haired girl undid the bun in Barbara's hair, and let it fall down to her shoulders. Then she tussled the blonde's hair, messing it up in the process. Barbara didn't care for that, but her struggles only served to make more of a mess.

Barbara: Now that is uncalled for, young lady! Please, set me down and I'll be on my way out of this dump. I'm about out of patience with you, Ms. Green!

Ivy: You're so sexy when you're angry, Barbie. I fucking love it!

Then in walked another girl, Farran. A dirty blonde with purple streaks in her hair, and wore a tye dye dress. The sight before her was both shocking and yet a little exciting.

Farran: What's going on?

Ivy: Hey Far, we have a guest, the good Dr. Barbie Kensington. Violet here was politely asking the sophisticated professor here to remove her footwear, which is against the dress code here in our house. Which I think Violet neglected to tell Barbie here, am I right.

Violet: Hey, I'm high right now, besides I was getting around to it.

Ivy: Well I just did it for you, babe. Now, Farran honey, be a dear and grab Professor Conservative's legs.

Farran: Sure.

The young girl eagerly grabbed Barbara's legs. The blonde college professor struggled and lost her temper finally. Farran had all she could handle trying to keep Barbara from kicking free, but kept her hold.

Barbara: STOP IT RIGHT THIS INSTANT! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE ANTICS! I am your professor, damnit!

Ivy: Hey now, you're a guest in our home, show us some respect, Barbie

Farran: Where are we taking her?

Ivy: The couch will do just fine.

Ivy and Farran sat the struggling blonde down. Ivy held Barbara's wrists in each of her huge hands. Farran still held her booted ankles, and looked at Ivy for further instructions. Ivy saw this and smiled.

Ivy: Put her dogs up on the table and place your cute little tushy on her knees, so that Barbie will stop kicking.

Farran obeyed and plopped down on Barbara's knees, making the college professor wince from discomfort.

Barbara: Ow! You're hurting me! Stop this foolishness!

With Farran resting her weight on the professor's knees, all of Barbara's desperate struggles were of no use..with no leverage, she was going nowhere.

Ivy: She's all yours, Vi, off with her boots!

Barbara: Those boots cost more than your paycheck at Hot Topic, Ms. Starr! Don't you DARE take them off!

Violet: Take a chill pill, Professor. Oh wait, you can't, because I took them, hehe. Relax, your poor feet have been in these boots all day, and I feel obligated to taking them off for you.

Barbara: I want nothing to do with your freaky fetish! Please, leave them on!

Ivy: Her poor feet? What about the poor cows who were killed to make the material of those boots. I hate leather and have no respect for those who wear leather. Take them off, Violet.

Violet grinned and gave a tiny clap with her hands. Then she got down on her knees and snaked her hands up Barbara's pant leg until she found the zipper to her boot. Gazing at Barbara with a devilish grin on her face, Violet slowly pulled the zipper down, making a tiny chainsaw noise as did so. Seizing the heel and instep of the boot, Violet pulled the boot free, and it came off with a pop. Then after another zipper find, and another chainsaw noise, off came the other boot, leaving Barbara in her navy trouser socks.

Tossing the boots over the couch, Violet looked down at the sight before her, two large wide foot encased in a navy blue trouser socks. Picking up the left foot, she began to slowly massage it.

Violet: Oh my, your feet got so warm in those boots, aren't you glad to be out of them?

Barbara: Absolutely not, now get your hands off my feet before I have you expelled!

Violet used both her thumbs against the ball of Barbara's foot, massaging it ever so gently.

Violet: I love your socks, Barbie, they contrast nicely with the color of your eyes.

Ordinarly Barbara would take that as a compliment, but under these circumstances, it was impossible.

Barbara: Don't try to butter me up, and stop it. This is downright weird and inappropriate.

Violet: I'm curious about something though, and that is how your feet smell after being in those boots.

Bending her head down, Violet placed her nose on Barbara's stocking toes and dragged her nose across.

Barbara: Ms. Starr! That is disgusting, I cannot believe you would actually SMELL someone's feet!

Violet: Ahhhhhhhh, Ooooooh, I love the smell of your stocking feet!

She continued sniffing the tense professor's stocking foot, while Ivy and Farran looked on and perhaps enjoying Barbara's discomfort. Then Barbara felt something sharp on her heel, which felt like a fingernail. She looked over and saw where Violet's hand was, and sure enough it was on her foot. Barbara then felt the fingernail slowly drag up and down her stocking sole.

Barbara: EEEEEEEEEK!! C-cut that out!

That was the reaction Violet was hoping for, she then used her thumb and middle finger to tickle the captive foot more.

Violet: Yes, I knew it, you have ticklish feet, far out!

Then she used her other hand to tickle Barbara's right foot too. With both of her feet being tickled, and the fact that her trouser socks were made of polyester and nylon, it was almost too much for the English professor to bear.

Barbara: NOOOO! HEHEHEHEHEHE SOMEBODY PLEEEHEEEHEEEEASE HELP MEEHEHEE!


Ivy watched with delight as Barbara tried to move her feet away from Violet's deadly fingernails, and failing miserably in the process. Hearing her former professor's laughter was music to her ears as well, because Ivy had fantasized about tickling Barbara's feet since taking her class. The blonde professor had stopped trying to break free from Ivy's iron grip hands, because she was too distracted from Violet tickling her stocking feet.

Violet: Cutchie, cutchie, cutchie, my sweet Professor!

Barbara: Heeeey! Hehehehehe stop this!!!

Violet: That's right, keep laughing, I love it!

Ivy: Ditto.

The problem was that Barbara kept pressing her soles against the table to protect her feet, forcing Violet to fight back and try to steady them.

Violet: C'mon, Professor Barbie, gimmie those feet!

Barbara: Not a chance, you hippie freak!

Ivy: Violet, hun, why don't you put her in an ankle lock, to keep those dogs from running.

Violet shrugged and grinned at the idea, and wrapped her right arm around Barbara's ankles. Now there was no way she could move her feet at all, giving Violet easy access to her navy socked soles, as she scribbled her fingernails all over the bottoms of Barbara's left foot, and then switching to the right foot. Then she would go back to the left, and the right again.

Barbara was in hysteria hell, her thin trouser socks offered no protection and made her feet even more ticklish. She howled and giggled at the same time.

Barbara: AHHH HEHEHEHEHE LET MEEEHEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE GO!

Violet: Awwwwww, my poor English Professor is too ticklish on her feetsies.

Ivy: Hey Vi, you're doing a great job, my protege. But how about raising the stakes and stripping off Barbie's cute blue socks.

Barbara's eyes widened in horror, but Violet was gung ho on the idea.

Violet: I couldn't agree more, especially since no one has ever seen them. This is history in the making, we're the first students to see Barbara Kensington's bare naked feet.

She rolled up Barbara's pant leg, until she found the top of the trouser sock. Then she slowly peeled the sock down, exposing the professor's pale white ankle. Pulling more of the sock down, she could see the top surface of her foot, equally alibastor as the ankle, and then down to her heel. Then she did the same to the other foot, and admired her handiwork. Both socks were halfway off Barbara's feet. Unable to resist, Violet briefly spider tickled the exposed bare heels, making Barbara squeal. Then she seized the tips of both socks and looked deep into Barbara's eyes.

Barbara: Eeeek! Violet, please don't!

Violet: So sorry, Professor, but we all want Barefoot Barbie.

And with that, she yanked both blue trouser socks off, and sent them sailing over her head. Violet, Ivy, and Farran all stared in awe at the sight before them.

Two wide bare feet, that looked like they'd never seen the sun. Size ten feet to be exact, round shaped toes with no polish, and well proportioned in size and shape. The soles of her feet were slightly tan with a few tiny wrinkles, and every inch of her feet were warm and sweaty from being in socks and leather boots all day. Barbara closed her eyes in shame and curled her toes definsively. Violet took Barbara's big bare foot in both her hands and gently massaged it with all ten of her fingers.

Barbara: Stop touching my bare feet!

Violet: Awwwwwww, you have such beautiful feet, Professor. They're so warm and soft, and look at these toes.

Ivy: Very sexy feet, indeed, but her toes look tense, like they need to relax. Help those toes, relax, Vi.

She rubbed all five toes with one hand next, and uncurled them. Then she let go and watched Barbara's toes wiggle and stretch, as if they were happy to be free from the confines of her footwear.

Violet: That's right, little tootsies, wiggle for me.

To keep the toe wiggling, Violet used each of her five fingers to indivdually tickle each toe on Barbara's left foot. It worked too, Barbara's toes wiggled like mad, and she laughed like a mad lunatic.

Barbara: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHA NOT THE TOES!

Violet (singing): Who has ticklish toes, who has ticklish toes, Professor Barbie has ticklish toes, and I love to tickle cute ticklish toes!

Ivy cracked up at her friend's song and the fact that Barbara was whimpering softly at her torture. Now that she was barefoot, Ivy was curious about something else too.

Ivy: Hey Farran, why don't you hop off Barbie's legs there, and help Violet bend them back a bit.

The dirty blonde did so and quickly held a leg, as did Violet. Then both girls bent her legs back so that her toes pointed straight up at Ivy. Grinning evilly, Ivy bent her head down and placed her nose on Barbara's right sole and then her left, inhaling deeply. Then her head shot up instantly, and the Amazon girl wrinkled her nose.

Ivy: Pheweeee, your feet stink, Barbie!

Barbara: They most certainly do not, and my name is not Barbie.

Ivy: Am I right, ladies, do Barbie's feet stink?

Farran: Hell yeah they do.

She smirked down at Barbara and held her nose.

Farran: Peeeee uuuuuuuu, Barbie has stinkfoot!

Violet: Hehe, who would've thought that the classy, sophisticated Dr Barbara Kensington would have such smelly feet.

Barbara: I'll have you know that I work for a living, at a job that requires me to wear shoes all day. This is NOT funny!

Then all three of the girls laughed out loud, as if sharing a private joke.

Ivy: We're just fucking with ya, Barbie.

Farran: We love your feet.

Violet: And especially your foot odor. In our world, there is no such thing as smelly feet.

Barbara didn't particularly like their world, but hoped that she could surely leave it, now that they saw her feet and got to touch them.

Barbara: Girls, please! You've had your fun, now let me go and we can forget about this whole barefoot business.

Ivy: Let you go, ha, that's a riot.

Violet: We're just getting started, it'd be fool hearty to let you go now.

Ivy: That and you're still over dressed.

After making that statement, Ivy pried the suit coat off Barbara's arms and back. Then she tossed the expensive coat to the floor.

Ivy: Farran, go get my shawl and use it to bind Barbie's ankles together.

Farran nodded and went to go do so. When she came back, she crossed Barbara's legs and tied her ankles up.

Ivy: Good, now you and Violet hold each one of her arms.

The two girls obeyed without hesitation, and held her steady. Barbara looked at Ivy with fear in her eyes, as the tall raven haired hippie ran her fingers all over her baby blue blouse, admiring the fabric.

Barbara: W-what are you doing? Listen, I'm sorry I gave you a bad grade!

Ivy: Don't be afraid, Barbie, I'm not going to hurt you.

Seizing the blouse by both ends of the collar, Ivy pulled with all her might, ripping the blouse in two.

Barbara gave a yelp as the shirt left her body, exposing her white lacy camisole.

Barbara: My blouse! Do you have any idea how much that cost?

Ivy: Ha ha ha, you and your expensive clothes, Dr. Barbie! A part of me feels bad though, because that blouse looked great on you. Such a shame that you won't be able to wear it again.

Then she cupped Barbara's chin in her huge hand, bringing her up to eye level.

Ivy: You're mine, now, Barbie, and we're going to play with you for as long as we like. Do you have a problem with that?

Barbara gulped, and realized how dominant the Amazon really was. Nodding her head slowly, she held back tears of frustration. She was starting to regret the fact that she gave Ivy a C now.

Ivy: Good, now come, girls. Let's lay Barbie down on the couch, so we can all have fun now.

Barbara didn't like the sound of that, and had a feeling it meant more tickling.

She was right.