The Babysitter f/f
"Are you going to tell my mom?", Angela whined. The tomboyish 18-year old looked pleadingly at her current babysitter, Nancy. Most girls at least have sitters who are young, Angela thought, and can sympathize with doing girl things. Nancy was too old to remember what it was like to be 18. "Of course! You could have been arrested!", Nancy insisted. Nancy was 40 years old (which was about ten years older than Angela would have guessed) and married to a travelling salesman. Besides babysitting the neighborhood kids, all of her time was spent exercising, and she had a lot of time. Her long, curly hair was bleached blonde and she had a very deep tan. She believed in hard work and stringent rules. Nancy was sure that Angela's parents would want to know right away. Stealing a car, even if it was your parents', was illegal. Angela sulked. Nancy pointed to her bedroom door. "Get to bed, young lady. You have a lot of explaining to do tommorrow morning when your parents get home." Angela slowly padded to her room, thinking about how she could possibly explain to her parents why she'd taken the car. As she undressed, her mind raced, thinking of ways to convince Nancy not to tell her parents. She's so straight, Angela thought. there's no way I'd be able to talk her out of it. Angela turned the light out and went to bed. After tossing and turning til almost midnight, Angela got out of bed for a drink of water. Her mouth was dry; she was dreading to talk with her parents when they returned. She walked through the family room on the way to the kitchen. Nancy was asleep in her father's recliner, the remote control in her lap. Angela flipped her off, and walked into the kitchen. I should torture her, Angela mused, like they did in the old days. Angela chuckled to herself. She was almost desperate enough to do it. She got her water, and left the kitchen. Angela hoped something would come to her. She walked up to Nancy's sleeping form. Angela thought to herself, She thinks she's so hot. Perfect hair, perfect tan, perfect nails. She probably even gets pedicures. Angela's eyes flashed to Nancy's bare feet, fully extended in the recliner. Her tanned feet were impeccably pedicured,with a dark red polish on her toes. There wasn't a dead skin cell on her feet. As she stared at Nancy's feet, a half-baked idea came to her mind. She stood fixedly, a slow smile spreading on her face as she pieced her plan together. Angela was an uncommonly smart teenager. She had a good plan. And it was worth the risk. She hurriedly gathered the things she needed, and piled them on the floor next to Nancy's sleeping form. The nylons got tied to the frame of the recliner's footrest. The other ends of the two nylons Angela carefully tied to Nancy's ankles, right below the hems of her faded blue jeans. Angela also had two lengths of duct tape. She was pretty sure she wouldn't be ableto put the tape on Nancy without her waking, so she figured that speed was the key. She pressed the tape to one side of each of the leather armrests, and quickly brought both pieces down across Nancy's forearms and pressed them hard into the other side. As Angela expected, Nancy jerked awake, groggily. Working quickly, Angela managed to tape one wrists and part of another before Nancy started struggling. And by the time Nancy said, "Angela Sue Plummer, what are YOU DOING?!", Angela had secured Nancy's wrists. Angela grinned at Nancy sweetly, and ignored her. She had taken her father's web belt off of his fanny pack and started slipping it under Nancy's knees. Nancy shrieked, "What are you doing! You're going to make it much worse on yourself, Angie. Untie me!" Angela easily slipped the nylon belt around Nancy's thrashing knees, and cinched it tight. Looking at Nancy thrashing mightily but vainly against her bonds, Angela decided to forgo tying Nancy at the waist. Angela was sure it would hold. She shot another smile at Nancy. Nancy was still threatening her. "Angela! You have no idea how much trouble you're in. Untie me this instant, young lady!" Angela finally spoke to her, "I wish you'd stop yelling. I'm going to have to keep the noise down in here." Angela used her father's big bandanna, after struggling with Nancy's thrashing head and her blonde mane, to gag Nancy. SHe didn't want to suffocate her, of course, but it was bound to get loud in her house. Angela looked squarely at Nancy, and noted fear in her eyes. Good, she thought. Angela had watched "The Marathon Man" at least twice before. She knew how to do this stuff. It was all in the mind. Angela bent down in her pile of stuff. "I don't want you to tell my parents about the car. So, I'm going to let you know how serious I am about that tonight." Angela picked up her mother's pumice stone that she used on her heels occasionally. She walked over to Nancy and held it in front of her face. Nancy gazed at it and looked pleadingly in Angela's eyes. Angela continued, "By looking at your feet, I guess you've seen one of these before. I've never had a pedicure, so tell me, what does it feel like to have it scrub across the bottoms of your feet?" There was confusion in Nancy's eyes. "Here Nancy, let me show you." Angela walked over to Nancy's bare, tanned, helpless feet. Nancy curled her toes, and crossed her feet together. Angela frowned; Nancy's feet would wiggle too much. A little piece of tape around Nancy's big toes took care of the problem. Now Angela could begin in earnest. "So, Nancy. When they do your feet, do they rub the pumice with quick, light strokes, like this.." Angela bent to Nancy's elevated feet, held her left toes, and ran the instrument all over her bare sole, gently and quickly. Nancy's foot jerked, but was held fast."..or do they draw it slowly and firmly, like this." Angela slowly dragged the stone from Nancy's toes to her heel. Nancy yipped through her gag. Angela smiled at her. "God, you're feet are soft, Nancy. Right now, you're probably regretting it, though. Okay, time to get started. Do you think you know what I'm going to do to you yet?" Nancy nodded her head quickly. "Alright", Angela said, "let's have some fun, shall we? Observe my fingernails." Angela held her long fingernails up for Nancy to see. Nancy struggled with renewed vigor, muffled words sneaked through her gag. Smiling, Angela wiggled them in the air, and slowly started moving her wiggling fingers down to her sitters arches. "Kitchy kitchy coo...", Angela started, and gently danced her nails on Nancy's bare soles. Nancy reacted as if she'd been shocked; she shreiked and heaved maniacally at her bonds. Angela oh so gently grazed her nails along the tops and heels of Nancy's feet, forcing her to unclench her toes. When she did, Angela would firmly draw a long nail up and down her arch for as long as her toes were relaxed. When she clenched them again, she would tickle her heels and the tops of her golden feet again. After about thirty seconds, she stopped to taunt Nancy. "WOW!", Angela said, grinning, "that was wild! I just can't get over how soft your feet are. Don't you ever walk on them?" Nancy's voice was muffled through the gag. "Well", Angela continued, "that was kids stuff. What's coming is pure, complete, tickle-torture. Are you up to it? Speak now or forever hold your peace!" Nancy shook her head wildly back and forth. Angela continued brightly, "Oh, so you say you can take anything I can dish out, huh? Well, we'll just see about that. Let's play with some toes, okay? Tickle, tickle, tickle..." Angela gently tickled the bottoms of Nancy's toes. Nancy's hard body bucked mightily against the recliner. She tried curling the toes of both feet, but the tape and Angela's firm grip held them open, vulnerable to Angela's whimsical fingers. Angela grinned unconsciously as Nancy screamed with hysterical laughter into her gag. Angela played with each toe, gently holding each with one hand as she carefully tickled it with the fingertip of the other hand. "This is awesome!", Angela gasped, in childish wonderment, "You are sooooo ticklish, Nancy. Now I'm gonna take that gag off if you promise to be nice and not yell, OK?" Nancy, breathlessly, managed a nod. Angela walked over to her and removed the gag. She continued taunting Nancy, "Ok, now, I want to hear you beg me not to tickle your feet anymore. I want you to tell me how ticklish they are and how good I am at tickling them." Nancy gasped, "n-noo, Angela, please. No more tickling. I won't tell your parents, I promise.." Nancy's voice trailed off. "That's not what I asked you!", Angela yelled. "I want you to beg! Now! Start begging!" Angela made her hands into claws and began ruthlessly scratching Nancy's heels. Nancy screeched, and started laughing again. "OK!.... Aaaaaaaaahhh.. OK, OK, I'll beg!", Nancy screamed. Angela paused. Nancy began, hysterically, "Oh.. uh...Angela, please don't tickle my feet, I beg you, please don't tickle my feet..." Angela waited.. "That's it? Come one, you can do better than that, Nancy. Tell me how ticklish your feet are and how good a tickler I am. Hurry, I'm looking right at your, your..what do you call em? Oh, yeah, arches. I'm looking right at your arches and I'm getting impatient." Nancy, who had caught her breath by now, began quietly, "My feet are so ticklish, Angela. Oh my God, are they ticklish. And you know right where to tickle them, right under my toes and my arches. It drives me crazy, Angela. And you know what else? It makes me horny, Angela. About thirty more seconds of you tickling my feet is going to give me an orgasm. Have you ever had an orgasm?" Angela stood there, astonished. Nancy had just deflated, no, popped her bubble of euphoria. Now, Angela knew that any more tickling would make Nancy excited, and have an orgasm. Angela kind of knew what an orgasm was, but of course she had never had one. Angela recoiled in horror, "Of course I've never had one, I'm only eighteen! You're disgusting..!" PART TWO Nancy grinned and cooed, "Come on, Angela. Tickle my feet. You can watch me have one. Just a few more minutes should do the trick. I've always thought you were really cute. Give me an orgasm, Angela." Nancy knew she had the upper hand. Ever since she had awoke to find herself tied, she had plotted a way to get out of the mess. She knew if she could get Angela to take the gag out of her mouth, she could find a way to get her to stop the maddening tickling. Of course, the tickling did not make her horny at all, and she did not think of Angela, or any other woman, as a sexpartner. But she had guessed correctly that by pretending to enjoy it, Angela would stop tickling her. So what if Angela thought she was a lesbian. Angela bent down to untie her, grumbling, "It figures you would be a lezzy. If I tickle you any more, then I'll be one too. But you better not tell my parents about the car.", Angela finished, with feigned menace. After Nancy was untied, Angela dashed to her room, seemingly afraid of Nancy now. Nancy let her go. She knew about plans too, and she was very organized. The following week, Nancy was on the phone to Mrs. Plummer; not to tell her about the incedents of that night, but to announce she would be chaperoning a slumber party at her house and invited Angela. Her parents, concerned that Angela wasn't getting out with her friends enough, and to have a little time off to themselves as well, accepted the invitation in Angela's behalf. Nancy had everything set when Angela arrived. For the first 30 minutes, the party was seemingly normal. Then, after the last parent had left, Nancy clapped for attention, "Okay, girls. I agreed to supply the food, drink, and no curfew. Now, lets take care of your end of the bargain." Angela looked confused, and then mystified when all 15 or 20 girls at the party started coming towards her, slowly. "Soooo," her friend Debbie said, "Nancy says you're really ticklish. Lets just FIND OUT!" The girls all squealed and made a mad rush toward Angela. Angela was big for her age, but she was simply overpowered. She was soon pinned to the floor by girls at her arms, legs, and one sitting on her waist. Nancy walked slowly over to Angela, smiling. She knelt down, and whispered into Angela's ear, "You know, Angela", she lied, "only one thing turns me on more than getting my feet tickled. And that's when I get the occasion to tickle the bare arches of a girl with my long, manicured fingernails. So, excuse me if I go a little bit overboard." Angela screamed, "No!!!!!! SHe's crazy, don't tickle me, don't tickle me!" Nancy stood, "Okay girls, I get her feet first, then you can take over. Now, someone hold her feet for me. Four girls jumped over. "Hold her feet up in the air a little.. Yes, that's it.", Nancy directed. Angela shrieked. Nancy smiled, "Wow, she's strong. Now someone needs to hold her toes so they don't wiggle all over the place." Four more girls jumped into the tangled mass of legs and arms. Finally, Angela was completely pinned; fully four girls on each leg and ankle, and two more holding her toes. Nancy nodded approvingly, Angela's bare soles were completely immobile and accessible. Nancy sat by those helpless feet, and yelled, "Okay, on the count of three, everyone say 'kitchy kitchy coo...' Ready? One.. Two.. THREE.. KITCHY KITCHY COOO!!!!!!!" The room was deafened by the girls making tickly sounds. The rest of the girls who weren't helping hold Angela gathered behind Nancy. Nancy didn't mess around. Nancy attacked Angela's soft white arches with her nails. She dragged them wickedly across Angela's soles. Angela's initial shreik and giggling was overwhelmed by the other girls chatter. The girls fought mightily, and Angela's feet never moved more than an inch or two. Nancy wanted to make her laugh, the was no other motive. Her nails continually flashed from heels to toes and back while Angela exploded with laughter. Every time, her nails would hit a "hot spot" on Angela's arch, a place where Nancy's nails would elicit a big hitch or a loud guffaw. She noticed this, and began concentrating on it. Angela took about five seconds and then lost it. She gave up struggling and just laid there, giggling like a schoolgirl. Nancy was amazed but alarmed at the lack of resistance, still, she couldn't pull herself away for a few seconds. When she finally stopped, Nancy got up and announced, "Okay, girls, she's all yours!" The girls fell on her at once. Angela was near panic. Quickly, her friends jumped on her and began diabloically tickling her everywhere. Her arms were still held up by two girls; meanwhile, two more gently tickled her underams, and still two more played with her ribs, gently prodding and kneading. One girl was trying to pinch her knees gently, and another pair were at her feet. Angela was in sensory overload. She was laughing hysterically, trying to utter the words *stop!* but without any success. And finally, when one girl bent down and playfully nibbled around Angela's bare tummy, she lost it.... Fully recovered the next day, Angela stomped over to Nancy's house. Her husband was, of course, not home. When Nancy answered and saw Angela there, she steeled herself for a fight. Actually, Angela wasn't the least bit interested in fighting. "Well, you got me back, Nancy. Truce?", Angela stuck her hand out. Nancy looked at the offered hand, and shook it, thankful that Angela bore no grudges. Maybe she was an okay kid after all. "Truce!", Nancy replied. "Can I come in?", Angela inquired. Nancy smiled and said, "Sure, come on in." Angela stepped inside. Angela sat on Nancy's couch and began, "Well, you know how you told me that me tickling you turned you on?" Nancy smiled, and was starting to explain that it didn't turn her on, it tickled like hell, and that she wasn't a lesbian, but Angela interrrupted her. "To tell the truth, I kinda liked it too. I mean, it did tickle like crazy, but I felt a little weird too, if you know what I mean." Nancy played along, figuring it was a game or something, "Yeah, it really does excite me. Do you want me to tickle you again?" Angela answered, shyly, "Uh huh.. I'll lay on the couch and you tickle the bottoms of my feet, OK?" Nancy thought, Oh, so it is a game. A game of chicken. Who can take it the farthest. Well, she's no match in a war of nerves with me. She replied aloud, "Sure. I'd like that. Take your shoes off." Angela's stomach tightened at the thought of a repeat of the previous day. She kicked off her clogs, and lay face up on the couch, her feet hanging over the edge. Nancy began tickling her soles gently, tracing her nails up and down Angela's soles. Angela sighed. Nancy kept it up, and after a couple of minutes, Angela began to moan. Nancy smiled, wondering how far Angela would go. She kept her soft, gentle tickling up, and looked in wonderment as Angela unzipped her own shorts, and plunged a hand within. Nancy grinned at the girls determination, and tickled under Angela's toes with both hands. Angela's moans grew in volume, "Mmmmm.. yeah... ooohhhh....God, that feels great, it feels soooooo great.." For the first time, doubt creapt into Nancy's mind. "Is this for real, Angela? Are you really serious?" Angela moaned, "Oh, yes... Mmmmm....Nancy, do me a favor. Tickle my toes with your tongue. Please, Nancy...." Now Nancy was firmly between the proverbial rock and hard place, and a young woman had put her there, outwitted her in the end. If she refused, she was both caught lying and she would lose the 'game'. If she did it, well..... Nancy chose the lesser of two evils, and lovingly licked Angela's bare toes and soles. After about ten seconds, Angela groaned, "Oh, God...unnhhh....unnnhhhh.....unhhhhh....unhhh..." Nancy thought, giddily, She sure fakes an orgasm well for someone who has never had one. Nancy got up and was on her way to the bathroom when Angela said three little words to her that were spoken with such feeling an emotion that they couldn't be a lie. "I love you", Angela said, dreamily. THE END
VERY, VERY HOT!
Now if you'll excuse me, I hear a cold shower calling my name.
(Please submit more stories!)
Kinky is with a feather; Perverted is with a chicken.
I've seen this before at the TMF, and I love it! Love to see oldies.
Great story! I love babysitter stories.
We remember reading this story from Josie the ticklish Pussycat. Love,
Anna and Heather
Yes, I read it at Josie's site also, but it was worth seeing again.