Advanact's
Be Careful What You Wish For
Be Careful What You Wish For
“Oh, I can’t thank you enough for coming by on such short notice,” chattered Mrs. Roberts, as she hurried to bring her bags to the waiting cab. “This trip came right out of the blue, and William insisted we ask for you, specifically, to babysit.”
Placing her overnight bag by the front hall bench, Lulubelle Patterson smiled serenely as she replied “Think nothing of it, dear. I’ve plenty of knitting to catch up on, and I’m sure your son will be wonderfully behaved while I’m here.”
“Yes...” whispered Lisa, as she glanced down at her child. “I feel awful about leaving William alone this weekend, but my husband and I haven’t had the opportunity to... you know... BE together for such a long while...”
“Nonsense,” interrupted Lulubelle, as she stopped the woman’s worried talk with a friendly hand upon her arm. “It’s important for you two to spend time together, and ‘alone time’ is good for any couple.” Looking out the door to the woman’s concerned husband, the matronly babysitter smiled and said “Now, you’d best hurry or you’ll miss your plane. Just you enjoy your vacation and don’t worry about us. Everything will be fine.”
Smiling in relief, as if she’d just had a weight of worry lifted from her shoulders, Lisa Roberts lifted her suitcase and turned towards the door. “I really cannot thank you enough Mrs. Patterson. Please do help yourself to anything you would like while you’re here. My husband and I should be back early Tuesday morning.”
Bending down to hurriedly kiss her son on his cheek, Mrs. Roberts hugged young William and soothed endearments before admonishing “Now, be good for Mrs. Patterson! We’ll only be gone for four days, and I’m sure you can show how you’re a perfect gentleman.”
Nodding agreement and promising good behaviour, William waved goodbye as he watched his mother hand her suitcase to the waiting driver and enter the cab to join his father. Continuing to wave as the cab drove off down the street, the pyjama-clad boy shivered at the evening’s cold and turned to look up at his new babysitter.
“A little nippy out, isn’t it?” commented Mrs. Patterson, as she gently placed a guiding hand upon the lad’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back inside before we catch a chill.” Turning William back into the house, the babysitter lifted her overnight bag from its hallway resting place and gently closed the front door. Humming contentedly as she walked with the boy into the house’s voluminous living room, the woman adjusted the lights to her preference and turned the unobtrusive orchestral music to a quietly comfortable background volume.
Laying down on the carpet near the comics he had set about earlier, the young boy pretended to read over the coloured pages while surreptitiously watching his new babysitter’s every move. Smiling impishly as he watched the fat woman graciously settle her large bottom into an overstuffed easy chair, William could barely contain his excitement. After hearing about Mrs. Patterson for so long, he could hardly believe she was here!
Though his best friend Robert had certainly talked about this babysitter enough, William found it strange that her appearance did not fit with his friend’s description of her personality. Those stories led the boy to expect a playful, care-free young lady. However, Lulubelle Patterson seemed to be anything but that!
Standing at well over 6 feet in height, Mrs. Patterson was a stern, matronly woman whose tall and ample figure created a presence of maternal confidence that left little doubt as to who was in charge. Clothed in a brown ankle-length dress, the flattering slope of the woman’s sweetheart neckline provided the only sense of flourish to her modest gown, with her prim glasses and subtle makeup giving the woman airs of a strict school-marm rather than the friendly babysitter the boy had expected.
With her greying brown hair tied back into a neat bun and strong hands seemingly made for the gentle click-clack of her knitting needles, the woman was the epitome of motherly discipline and self-control. Not at all what William had expected. In fact, for a time, he wondered if his parents had arranged for the wrong babysitter to care for him during their vacation!
Staid and imposing when she arrived, William found himself intimidated by the woman’s bulk and actually shuddered in momentary fear when Mrs. Patterson first cast her stern gaze down over her immense bosom. Though she didn’t appear to be unkind, the matron’s ramrod-straight posture indicated a drill-sergeant discipline which would not be swayed, and her curt manner indicated to the despairing lad that she would not tolerate a moment’s disobedience.
Adding to the lad’s dislike of the woman was the infantilizing way in which she insisted upon calling him “Billy”. Bad enough to be labeled with such a childish name, it was made even worse for the boy by the condescending manner in which the plump lady spoke to him: Arrogantly pushing forward to stand almost on top of her charge, the sitter would require the lad to crane his neck up from his waist-high vantage point to meet her bosom-framed gaze. With hands firmly upon her hips and chest thrust confidently outwards during such exchanges, it was as if Mrs. Patterson were declaring her massive breasts alone granted an unquestioned right to obedience.
Already small for his age, William felt positively infantile in the presence of this towering giant and, whether intended or not, his sitter’s matronly arrogance intimidated William into placidly nodding silence. Adding to his discomfort was the news he would be expected home and in pyjamas by 6pm each evening. Wincing again at the condescending way in which his sitter delivered this news, the boy glanced up to meekly acknowledge the woman’s instructions and immediately regretted ever requesting her as a caretaker. Now facing an early bedtime under this stern lady’s supervision, the childish rules seemed ridiculous to a mature boy of ten, but William’s mother felt it best to defer to the habits of the nanny and directed that the lad follow Mrs. Patterson’s preferences to the letter. It was he, after all, who insisted upon this particular babysitter and his parents were more than happy to leave him with this firm disciplinarian.
It was only when the woman sat herself down in the front hallway to don her indoor shoes that William’s doubts were dismissed. Feeling his heart give an excited flutter as he saw Mrs. Patterson draw those red velvet mary jane slippers from her knitting bag, the boy quickly scurried to his room to don his night clothes before his parents departed. The descriptions fit perfectly now: This was definitely the babysitter which his friend had described to William dozens of times before.
And so it was that the boy found himself at the ridiculously early hour of 7pm reading comic books in his night-time pyjamas while cautiously regarding his new guardian. Feeling his heart flutter in excitement as his eyes rested again upon the woman’s plump slippers, the shy boy still couldn’t believe that the fabled babysitter was actually real. That she wasn’t a story his friend had invented for an afternoon joke. Those shoes proved it: Robert wasn’t making it up!
And now Mrs. Patterson was in charge of him. For a full four days.
But how to get acquainted with this stern matron? Friendly as she supposedly was, the woman’s no-nonsense demeanor left the boy to think this sitter would be as likely to send him to his room for interrupting her knitting as she would to casually reply to any questions the young lad might have. In fact, were it not for the contrastingly bright red shoes which plumped at the woman’s white hosiery, William would have thought her to be unquestionably dour.
Gulping apprehensively, the boy decided that, shy or not, he’d have to take the chance and strike up a chat. Standing from his comics and padding softly barefoot across the carpeted room, William stood himself a few feet in front of his babysitter and blushed shyly as he noticed her glance up from her knitting to regard him.
Continuing to hum along to the radio orchestra for a few moments more, the plump woman smiled warmly as she said “Hello dear. Are we having a nice evening?”
Blushing shyly, William replied “Y-yes, Mrs. Patterson.
“I was just reading some comics and... well...” glancing away from the woman’s face, the boy stared at her shoes instead as he mumbled. “I’m really glad you could come over. My friend Robert said you were a great babysitter...”
Smiling down at the young lad, the matron replied. “Ah, so that’s where the Stephenson’s recommendation came from! It was curious receiving your mother’s call out of the blue like that.
“I’m flattered you wanted me as your babysitter, Billy.”
Feeling himself blush deeper, William silently looked at the woman’s slippers for a few moments more before muttering. “Thank you, Mrs. Patterson.”
“Please, dear,” soothed the matron. “Call me Auntie Lulu if you’d like.”
Quietly nodding, William just couldn’t bring himself to meet the lady’s eyes. Small as the boy was for his age, standing before this voluminous woman made him feel smaller still, and his shyness wasn’t helping at all with the question he wanted to ask.
Gazing at the woman’s shoes for a few moments more, the quiet clickity-click of Mrs. Patterson’s knitting needles flowed hypnotically with the gentleness of the background radio orchestra, lulling William into a nervous silence he was finding himself too shy to break.
Steeling himself again, the boy looked up to the matron’s smiling face and said, perhaps a bit too loud “Robert says you like to play games when you babysit.”
“Oh?“ Silently regarding William as she continued the clickity-click of her knitting, Mrs. Patterson smiled for a few moments before asking “And what games does Bobby say I like to play?”
Nervously dropping his gaze to stare once more at the babysitter’s plump, red slippers, the boy shuffled his feet as he shyly replied “He says you like to play ‘Tickle’.”
Well, Robert had said more than that, of course. Much more.
For months now, William had heard stories from his friend about how this babysitter would snuggle the boy and tickle him absolutely hysteric. He heard tales of how Robert would laugh and laugh for hours on end, desperately begging to receive moments of tickle-free mercy from the fat lady’s wiggling fingers. He heard of how the boy would both anticipate and fear Lulubelle Patterson’s visits, both loving and hating her playfully nimble fingers and the helplessness she’d make him feel.
His friend said that she’d tickle whenever she could get her hands on him.
He said that she’d tickle him until he’d wet!
She’d tickle and tickle and tickle in an endlessly fluttering tease which could never be reasoned away. He’d try to run. He’d try to hide. But Mrs. Patterson would always seek Robert out, quietly stalking him in those soft, velvet slippers of hers, and inevitably trap the boy within her bosomy embrace before tickling and tickling and tickling him until he was beside himself with hysteria.
And then she’d tickle him some more!
Yes, Robert said this babysitter liked to play ‘Tickle’, and now William was about to find out if the stories were true.
His heart racing, his cheeks blushed red with embarrassment at asking such a thing out loud, the boy waited endless moments before he lifted his head to face the matron’s reply. Could this large, motherly woman really be the merciless tickler William had heard so much about?
Looking at her now, it seemed ridiculous to think such a thing. Though the matron’s nimble fingers moved her knitting needles with practiced ease, the thought of those large hands grasping him in a playful tease seemed so far-fetched as to be laughable. How could William ever have believed Robert’s stories? The boy had surely just embarrassed himself in front of this new babysitter and was mortified at what she might tell his parents. If he was lucky, his brazenness might only result in a stern talking-to and grounding for the weekend. At worst, he might face a spanking!
Watching the woman continue the nimble clickity-click of her knitting for a few moments more, William held his breath in dread anticipation as he watched the matron finally pause in her craftwork and set her needles aside.
Smiling as she regarded the small boy before her, the babysitter purred “Yes, Billy. I like to play ‘Tickle’.
“Would you like me to play ‘Tickle’ with you?”
It was true! It was TRUE!
Feeling blood rush to his ears in excited amazement, William couldn’t even bring himself to voice a reply. Nodding numbly as he watched his babysitter giggle at his reaction, the boy blushed again as the she teased “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that, sweetie.”
Jiggling the cleavage of her sweetheart neckline as she straightened herself in her seat, the matron began to softly pat her lap with one hand while gently beckoning with the other. Now completely transformed from the stern and serious schoolmarm his parents had greeted at the door, the babysitter smiled down at her charge and cooed “Now, will Billy be a good little boy and come to Auntie Lulu for his tickle?” Grinning foolishly, William nodded and stepped forward into the fat woman’s waiting arms.
Giggling as the babysitter plopped his bottom down upon her expansive lap, William felt as though he were dreaming. Was he really going to get tickled by this infamous sitter? Reeling as the matron’s arms enveloped him in a snuggling hug, the boy felt his cheeks turn crimson when Mrs. Patterson bent to adjust her seat and gently pressed William’s face into her ample bosom in the process.
“Oh, my,” remarked the sitter, as she looked down at her red-faced charge. “Such a blush! ... *giggle* ... Is Billy a shy little boy?” Nodding his answer, William blushed deeper as the sitter tittered in response.
“Well, then,” huffed the woman, as she pursed her plump lips in mock determination. “Auntie Lulu will just have to snuggle all of that shyness out of little Billy then, won’t she?” Bending over to hug the boy once more, the sitter proceeded to cuddle William in a smothering maternal embrace.
“Oh, we’re going to have such fun together!” cooed the matron, as she gently rocked the blushing boy. “Nothing but hugs and snuggles and kisses for little Billy all weekend long!”
Giggling childishly in his babysitter’s arms, William squealed in surprise as the woman began to messily kiss his face.
“Such a pretty boy! ... *smooch* ... So very pretty! ... *kiss* ... Oh, I could just kiss this handsome little boy all day long! ... *smooch*”
Giggling and squirming in half-feigned embarrassment, William was certainly enjoying Mrs. Patterson’s loving attention, but he’d be mortified if anyone ever saw him like this!
“Kissie kissie, pretty boy! ... *smooch* ... So pretty! ... *kiss* ... Shy little boys like Billy ... *smack* ... simply MUST be kissed! ... *SMOOCH*”
Playfully pushing to half-heartedly fend off the matron’s cloying affection, the pyjama-clad boy squirmed and giggled in his sitter’s arms for a few minutes more before the woman finally ceased her kissing assault and sat back in her seat to quietly regard her charge.
Dazed into numbness by Mrs. Patterson’s torrent of kisses, William lay back in her arms and smiled foolishly upwards at the woman’s friendly face. Quietly giggling to himself as he anticipated the playful evening to come, the boy couldn’t help but wipe his cheeks with an exaggerated brush of his hands. Though he knew there was nothing there, it was impossible to not visualize his face covered in cartoonishly red lipstick kisses after that endless series of puckers from Mrs. Patterson’s plump lips.
After letting the lad rest a minute more, the matron smiled downwards and purred “You’re such a skinny little boy, Billy!” Giggling in response, William blushed again as he felt the woman’s hands gently rest upon his waist.
“And you know what they say about skinny little boys now, don’t you?”
“N-no...” replied the grinning lad as he braced himself for the expected answer.
“Well,” continued the sitter. “I’ve heard that skinny little boys are the most... Ticklish!” Giggling as he felt Mrs. Patterson’s fingers tweak at his ribs, William squirmed about in her lap to provide an answer.
“I thought so!” continued the woman, as she began to tease the lad’s belly with her hand. “Billy’s a ticklish little boy, isn’t he? Hmm? Isn’t he?”
Beginning to laugh helplessly at the teasing tweaks, the lad could barely respond with a giggling “Y-yes!”
“Well, isn’t that lucky for Billy,” cooed Mrs. Patterson in her teasing pout. “Because Auntie Lulu just loves tickling little boys!
“Coochie, coochie coo!” Slowly moving both of her hands to grope at the boy’s belly, the fat matron smiled in satisfaction as she watched her charge erupt in a torrent of helpless, ticklish laughter.
William was amazed. He had never felt anything like this before! Far from giving a playful little ‘goochie goo’, the plump woman was teasing her nimble fingers in a slow, deliberate and perfectly executed tickle. Giving just the right pressure and just the right tease in just the right spot, each wiggle of the matron’s fingers sent the boy into a fit of shrieking giggles which left him completely paralyzed with laughter.
“Oh, isn’t he a ticklish one,” teased Mrs. Patterson, as she snuggled the lad for a few moments of tickle-free cuddling. “I think Billy’s the most ticklish baby Auntie Lulu’s ever sat!”
Grinning stupidly in the woman’s arms, William reveled in her attention for a few moments more before he heard “I wonder what his skinny little knees think of all this, hmm?”
Erupting again in a fit of helpless laughter as he felt the woman’s fingers gingerly tweak about his kneecaps, the lad squirmed in a genuine attempt to escape the sitter’s gentle hug. Though tickles were certainly welcome and fun, the magical contradiction of it all was that once the tickling started, one would do anything they possibly could to escape those teases. And William was trying hard!
“Uh, uh, uh!” scolded the matron in her playful sing-song voice. “I think a certain little boy is trying to get away from Auntie Lulu!
“Naughty, naughty!” teased the woman, as her fingers gently tweaked the boy’s ribs. “It’s not polite for little boys to leave a tickle! ... *giggle* ... Auntie simply won’t abide with such naughtiness!
“Maybe a little tickle on Billy’s feet will teach him to behave, hmm?”
It’s surprising what can recall a memory. Strange that Mrs. Patterson’s playful comment should bring to mind an encounter William had forgotten about years ago. How strange that he should only remember it now...
“N-no! Not my fee-“ halting the lad’s protests mid-sentence, Mrs. Patterson gently stroked a single finger up her captive’s bare sole and immediately sent her ticklish prize into a squealing fit of helpless laughter.
“Oh, my!” remarked the sitter, as she hugged the squirming lad to the muffling confines of her bosom. “Such ticklish little feet! ... *giggle* ... Tickly, tickly, tickly little feet!”
Yes, it was perfectly clear in his mind now: That warm summer day in his cousin’s back yard when she and her teenaged friends tickled poor William’s soles until he wet himself in humiliated laughter. The teasing. The taunts. The touches. How could he have ever forgotten the approving coos of those sadistic girls once they noticed that dark spot of wetness spreading at his waist? “No, please!” begged William, as he wriggled his feet to dodge the matron’s gently stroking fingers. “You don’t understand!”
Speaking faster as his sitter snuggly restrained first one squirming ankle and then the other beneath her strong arms, the lad’s manner had immediately switched from playful to desperate. “Really, Mrs. Patterson! Really! I’m not kidding!
“My feet are way too ticklish! Tickle me anywhere else you’d like, but don’t touch my feet! PLEASE!!!” Ending the lad’s protests with another finger-flutter at his soles, the fat woman giggled in amusement as she watched her charge squirm in helpless, ticklish laughter.
“Tickle tickle tickle Billy! ... *giggle* ... Coochie coochie coo!”
Humming contentedly to herself as she gently caressed her captive’s bare soles, the way in which the matron deliberately ignored the lad’s protests made it abundantly clear that his objections would have no impact upon her tickling decisions. This woman liked to play ‘Tickle’, and she was going to do so in any way she pleased.
Kicking his legs in an attempt to free his ankles from the lady’s soft grip, the boy’s protests grew frantic as he confessed “I’m not lying! ...*heeheehee* ... I’ll pee if you tickle me there! ..*Gaaaaahahahaha*... I’ll PEE!
“Please Mrs. Patterson! PLEASE!!! If you tickle my feet I’ll pee my pants!!”
“Really?” purred the babysitter, as she tittered in obvious delight. “A widdle biddy coochie’s gonna make Billy pee pee his PJs?” Tickling as she taunted, it wasn’t clear if the matron had simply missed the lad’s distress or was secretly enjoying his ticklish desperation.
“Yes!” squealed the boy, frustrated at his sitter’s mocking tone. “I will! I WILL!
“Please don’t! I’ll pee my pants if you tickle my feet! I’ll pee! I’ll peeheeheehee...” his protests again interrupted by gentle fingers at his soles, William shrieked in angered frustration as he struggled in the woman’s arms. Though she was plump and comfortably soft, Mrs. Patterson’s bosomy hug was also quite inescapable, with the boy’s strongest kick serving only to make the woman’s breasts jiggle from another of her amused chuckles.
“Poor baby!” teased the sitter, as she ticklishly fluttered her fingers. “Billy’s gonna pee-pee from a silly ol’ tickle, isn’t he? Hmm? Isn’t he?
“What a ticklish boy! ...*giggle*... Gitsiee gitsee! ... *giggle* ... Coochie, coochie coo!”
Squealing with laughter, William struggled helplessly in the woman’s embrace. “No! No! No tickle! ... *Gaaaaahahahaaha* ... No tickle! Please!” This was no longer the playful game he had hoped for, but now an urgent attempt to avoid wetting himself in front of his caretaker. “No! No! No! Nooooooohohohoho! Please no tickle feeheeheet! Please! ...*Baaaaaaahahahahaaha*... PLEEEEEEEEEEEheeheease!”
Humming contentedly as her hands gently caressed the captive bare soles, it was clear the matron didn’t care how horribly she embarrassed her charge. It seemed she was having far too much fun to even consider stopping her games and was going to tickle this boy in any way she chose.
“Tickle, tickle, tick-le!” teased the sitter, as she gently stroked the lad’s naked soles. “Tickly, tickly, tick-le-boy!”
Feeling tears of humiliation welling in his eyes, William looked up at the taunting lady’s face and begged “Please don’t, Mrs. Patterson. Plehehehease don’t make me pee!
“Pleeheeheease!” Pleading through his forced laughter with embarrassingly girlish squeals, William begged as frantically as he could for relief from his sitter’s touch. Frustrated to tears by the giggling woman’s taunts, squirming for all he was worth to escape her gentle hug, the helpless boy desperately hoped he could somehow convince this bosomy bully to cease her ticklish attack. Though he had dreamed of endless tickles before, William now found himself simply hoping he could survive the evening without the ultimate humiliation of wetting himself like a baby.
“Please?” mocked the woman as she paused her ticklish tease. “Please more tickles?”
“N-no!” replied the frantic lad, as he gasped to catch his breath. “No more! Please, no more! No tickle! No feet!
“Please Mrs. Patterson, I’ll do ANYTHING if you’ll stop tickling my feet!”
“Awwww....” Smiling in mock sympathy, the matron soothingly cooed to her captive and gently cradled the teary-eyed boy to her bosom. “Poor little Billy has ticklish feet, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, Mrs. Patterson,” answered the boy, as he choked back tears. “Yes, I do.
“Please don’t tickle my feet any more ...*sniff*.. I hate it ...*sniff*.. I really do!”
“Poor baby,” soothed the woman, as she gently rocked her blubbering charge. “I thought Billy liked being tickled?”
“I do!” replied William, hoping he could somehow be understood. “I just... I just... you see... it’s... it’s...” and then he started crying.
“Awwww...” Cooing a shushing lullaby as she hugged the boy close, the matron gently kissed his cheek and whispered “Why don’t you tell Nana all about it, hmm?”
Bursting into tears, William buried his face into the woman’s comforting softness and told her everything. About his cousin. About her friends. About how they would stalk him. About how they would catch him. About how they would tickle him, and tickle him, and tickle him, and tickle him, and tickle him until he would completely lose his senses. About how they would tickle him until he begged to comb their hair, to do their chores, to kiss their feet, to be their slave, to do ANYTHING they wanted in exchange for just a single minute of tickle-free rest.
One minute. Sixty seconds. A pathetically brief pause while the boy watched those evil girls wiggle their fingers above him. A brief pause of torment in exchange for anything the girls asked for.
And then they’d start again.
Yes, those four pretty girls would tickle poor William until, after they finally had their fill of bullying amusement, they would take turns tickling the boy’s feet until he helplessly wet his pants.
“Now, be a good baby,” Melissa would coo. “Show us how much of a sissy you are and pee your panties, hmm?”
“Oh, such pretty toes!” Patricia would giggle, as she admiringly tweaked about William’s pads. “Don’t forget ... *giggle* ... You promised to kiss mine all over when we’re done!”
“What a baby,” Heather would sneer. “You’re so pathetically ticklish it’s no wonder you laugh like a little girl! I’m glad you’re not related to ME!”
Finally, William’s cousin Jennifer would place her crimson fingernails upon the lad’s soles and coo “Come on, Billy. We both know you want to wet your undies.
“Little sissies just love to pee their panties in front of pretty girls ...*giggle*... Why not do it now, hmm? You know we’re just going to keep tickling until you do...”
And so he would. Desperate to stop his cousin’s torture, aware that he had no other choice, young William would obey his tormentor and wet his pants in hysterical, humiliated submission.
Now safe in his babysitter’s arms, separated from those girls by years of memory, the boy shuddered as he remembered the cooing approval of his cousin once he’d followed her command. How pleased Jennifer looked when she saw that growing spot of wetness at his hips. How her friends would clap in delighted glee to celebrate their victory. How they’d all “ooh” and “aah” at his obedient surrender, all while poor William continued to laugh helplessly as his giggling cousin kept tickling and tickling and tickling and... “...and then they’d kiss me!” added William. “They’d kiss my cheeks and tell me what a good little sissy I was. How weak and helpless I was. How babyish it was for a boy to pee himself in front of a bunch of girls!
“I-I-I-I mean they were TEENAGERS! They were GIANTS and they called me a-a-a-a-a ... *sniff* ... a weak little SISSY! ...*sniff*... They were so MEAN to me! They wer–mrrrURF?”
Expertly hushing the lad’s growing upset with the muffling softness of her bosom, Mrs. Patterson murmured soothing nonsense to her charge as she gently stroked his ruffled hair. “Oh, you poor dear!” sympathized the matron, as she affectionately cuddled the sobbing lad. “You poor, poor little boy. Those girls were simply cruel!”
Murmuring quietly, the babysitter looked down into William’s eyes and declared “Why, if I was there, I would have spanked those girls until their naughty bums were crimson red!
“... *tsk* *tsk* ...
“Imagine! Picking on a poor, helpless little boy like that. Goodness! What naughty young ladies.
“Don’t you worry, Billy. Auntie Lulu will protect her baby. ...*giggle*... You’re safe from little girls now, aren’t you?”
Though William would have normally objected to Mrs. Patterson’s implication that he was a helpless wimp who needed a babysitter’s protection from the tickles of bullying little girls, the boy put his complaint in check when he felt the woman’s hand affectionately stroke his tear-stained cheek. After all, snuggled as he was in the matron’s strong arms, comforted by the silencing muffle of a giant boob pressed to his lips, William could hardly claim to be otherwise. As he looked over the swell of his sitter’s bosom and up into her gently smiling face, the boy felt more helpless than ever.
“Hmm?” inquired the matron once more. “Auntie Lulu will protect her Billy from naughty little girls, won’t she?”
Pinned by the stern woman’s gaze, William felt compelled to obediently nod in silent agreement from beneath her muffling softness. Wasn’t he, after all, acting like a helpless baby in his Auntie’s arms?
Blushing profusely as he saw Mrs. Patterson grin in satisfaction, the fat woman didn’t help William’s embarrassment in the slightest when she cooed “Yes she will! Auntie Lulu will protect baby Billy from those mean ol’ girls and keep him safe and sound in snuggly hugs forever and ever!
“No little girls are going to kiss *my* Billy, will they? ... *giggle* ... Nuh-uh!
“Lulubelle gets to keep her kissable little pretty boy all to herself, doesn’t she? Hmm? Doesn’t she?”
Mortified by Mrs. Patterson’s cascade of treacly coos, William blushed deeper and again nodded in passive agreement. Now regaining some composure after his earlier tears, the lad wanted to assure his sitter that he really wasn’t as upset as he’d seemed. He’d only had a moment’s cry of emotion when reflecting upon an embarrassing past experience and didn’t want to be babied when a simple hug would do fine.
However, despite the boy’s squirming attempts to regain a smidgen of personal pride, there was no escaping the matron’s maternal snuggle. Hugged as he was into babyish silence by the woman’s strong arms, the only sound which escaped William’s bosom-muffled lips was a pathetically meek “Mrrph?”
Giggling in delight at the boy’s squirming antics, Mrs. Patterson pursed her lips in a mocking pout and cooed “Such a cutie Billy is! Does he want more kisses from Auntie, hmm? Does he?”
Trying to shake his head to the contrary, William managed only to gently wobble his bosomy muffle while emitting a quiet “Eeek” sound; an answer which amused the matron to no end. “Kissie, kissie!” whispered the sitter, as she lowered her lips closer to the boy’s cheek. “Kissie, kissie, kissie time!”
Wincing as he felt Mrs. Patterson plant another large, wet kiss on his face, William smiled despite himself as he watched the woman’s pursed lips return to bestow another smacking buss upon his forehead. “Kissie kissie!” teased the sitter. “Kissie, kissie, pretty boy!”
Giggling at the ridiculousness of her antics, it wasn’t long before William was once again wriggling about in the woman’s lap and playfully dodging the shower of affection she bestowed upon him. For all the frustration of her infantilizing ways, Mrs. Patterson was certainly expert at changing the boy’s mood and soon had William blushing and laughing in playful merriment.
“Kissie, kissie, who’s a sissy? Kissie, kissie, kissie time!”
Pausing in rest after a few minutes of being smothered in plump, wet kisses, William lay back in the woman’s arms completely dazed. Grinning in a distractedly happy stupor, the lad relaxed, limp and docile, as he felt his sitter adjust her position in the chair and comfortably snuggle him close. Numbed by Mrs. Patterson’s torrent of infantile affection, William had not a single thought or worry in his mind; he was well and truly relaxed.
Humming contentedly as she finished her adjustments, the matron giggled quietly to herself before devilishly smiling down upon her charge. “Now Billy,” purred the sitter. “I think we were playing with a certain little boy’s ticklish feet not too long ago, hmm?”
Snapping out of his daze, William realized that the woman had taken advantage of his stupor to completely immobilize him in her lap. Seeing his bare feet secured in woman’s grip, the boy frantically reached to free his ankles, only to find his arms restrained in a gentle snuggle. Now posed in the same helpless cuddle which Mrs. Patterson had used to restrain him before, William whimpered in despair and looked up once more into the woman’s twinkling eyes.
“Oh, please no!” begged the lad. “I thought I told you already: My feet are way too ticklish! Please don’t tickle me there, Mrs. Patterson. PLEASE!”
Pausing a moment to chortle in delighted self-satisfaction, the fat woman began to gently caress the lad’s bare soles as she purred “Yes, sweetie, we’ve already discussed that. You’re a pretty little sissy with ticklish little feet, aren’t you?
Stunned that the woman would tag him with that hated label after he tearfully confided his story to her, William blushed angrily as he answered. “N-No. No, I’m not!”
Giggling in amusement, the matron answered the lad’s denial with a gentle flutter of her fingers “Yes you a-are!” she teased in her sing-song voice. “Billy’s a ticklish little sissy with pretty little feet, isn’t he?”
William was mortified! How could this woman say such a thing after he’d shared his humiliating secret? Laughing despite his anger, the boy giggled “N-no ... *geehehee* ... No I’m not!” Kicking his legs in an attempt to move his sensitive soles away from the woman’s nimble fingers, William found that he was just as helpless as before; and just as ticklish!
“Isn’t he?” asked the lady through her devilish smile. “Isn’t Billy a pretty little sissy? Hmm? ... *giggle* ... A pretty little sissy who wants to play ‘Tickle’ with his babysitter?” Embarrassed to hear those words come back to haunt him, William squirmed about in an attempt to avoid his caretaker’s tease, but it was no use! Mrs. Patterson had him snuggled fast to her bosom, and no end of pushing would ever free him.
“Yes he is!” continued the sitter. “He’s a ticklish little sissy ... *giggle* ... and Auntie Lulu’s going to tickle his pretty little feet all night long...”
“N-n-nooohohohohohoho...” feeling the woman’s gentle tease move into a full-fledged tickle, William knew he was done for. As before, his sitter wasn’t toying in a playful game of ‘goochie goo’: She was applying just the right touch at just the right spot to torment the lad with a perfect tickle that drove him to babbling silliness. He tried to respond to his sitter’s taunts, tried to object to her accusation but, despite his full willpower being brought to bear, the boy could only look up into the woman’s smiling face and laugh the helpless, giggling shriek of the truly ticklish.
Tittering in delight at her charge’s helplessness, the sitter smiled in satisfaction as she maliciously fluttered her fingertips against the boy’s bare soles. “Yes he is, isn’t he? ... *giggle* ... Billy’s a ticklish little sissy who just loves his Auntie Lulu!”
“N-aah! Naah! Naaaaahahahahahaaha!” squealed the lad, as he squirmed in his tormentor’s embrace. “No tickle! No tickle feet! No Feeheeheeheet!”
“Tickle, tickle, toesies!” sang the babysitter, as she playfully tweaked her fingers up and down the lad’s bare soles. “Coochie, coochie, cooooo!”
“No! No!” shrieked the desperate boy. “Nofeet! Nofeet! I’ll pee! I’ll Pee! I’ll Peeeehehehehehehehee...”
Laughing in genuine amusement at William’s distress, the babysitter pursed her lips in a mocking pout and cooed “Awww, is Auntie’s widdle tickle gonna make the poor widdle piddle boy pee pee his pee jays?”
Pausing to listen in comical, smiling exaggeration, as if to discern an answer in the boy’s hysteric squeal of a reply, the sitter waited a moment more before gasping in mock surprise. “He will!? ...*giggle*... Oh, how precious!
“Billy’s not just a ticklish sissy, he’s a ticklish sissy BABY! ...*giggle*... Who would have thought it!?”
Vigorously shaking his head ‘no’, William attempted to contradict the woman’s taunts, but could only manage a girlishly squealed “Naahaa! Naahaaa! Naahaahaahaa!” in reply. He wasn’t a sissy. He wasn’t a BABY! He was just desperately ticklish and now wanted more than anything for his teasing sitter’s foot tickles to simply STOP!
Bad enough to be taunted, worse still to be infantilized by this bosomy bully, but now, with his sitter tauntingly putting words in his mouth, William was overcome with the full frustration of his embarrassed helplessness. He wasn’t a sissy or a baby – he was almost a teenager! -- but William was certain to wet himself and prove his babysitter right if she continued her torturous tickle. Worst of all, trapped in the snuggling arms of this bosomy giant, there was nothing William could do to stop her!
Reveling in her domination, smiling lovingly down at her hysteric charge, Mrs. Patterson cooed, “Well, don’t you worry, Billy. Auntie Lulu won’t make fun of her pretty sissy like his mean ol’ cousin did. ...tut-tut... Those naughty girls!
“When sissy pee pees his panties, Auntie will take off all his clothes and give him a nice warm bath instead, hmm?”
William was stunned. Undressed? A BATH!?!? He certainly didn’t want that!
Vigorously shaking his head once more, the lad tried to voice his objection to the sitter’s plans, but another skillful tickle turned his reasoned complaint into a girlish squeal of helpless laughter instead.
Listening a moment to the boy’s ticklishly babbled complaint, the matron affectionately smiled down upon him and cooed “Then, after Auntie’s cleaned her sissy baby from tip to toe, she’ll dry him off and powder his naked little bum with a pretty pink puff! ...*giggle*... Won’t that be nice?”
Powdered?!?! Aghast at the thought he might be genuinely babied by this monstrous woman, William again shook his head in objection and tried to reply, but the only sound he could make was a giggling “Naahaa, Nahahahahahaha...” as the woman continued to delicately tickle his sensitive bare feet.
“Oh, yes!” purred the lady in her treacly-friendly coo. “Then Auntie will dress her sissy in a pretty little suit and he can play ‘Tickle’ with his babysitter some more! ...*giggle* ... Won’t that be fun?” Pausing to blow a kiss at the babbling boy, the fat woman smiled in delight as a new idea came to mind. “Ooooh!”, she squealed. “Maybe I should diaper little sissy too, hmm?
“Oh, yes! ...*giggle*... A big fluffy diaper! Then we can dress sissy all pretty and nice without any worries about his silly baby accidents ...*giggle* ...”
“Na-ha, Na-ha, Nahahahahahahahahaha...” was all William could answer as he wriggled childishly in the bosomy matron’s clutches. “No tickle! No tickle! Nahahahahaha! No tickle feeheeheeheet!”
“Yes tickle,” nodded the sitter. “Yes tickle and tickle and tickle baby Billy’s feet. ...*giggle*... Forever and ever and ever!
“No! No! Naaaaaaahahahahahahaha!” hysterically laughing into the woman’s impassively smiling face, it was clear to William that his friend’s stories were true. Every last one of them! The staid, motherly Mrs. Patterson had a secret identity: That of a relentless tickler, and no amount of begging would ever get her to halt her tease once she started.
“Coochie, coochie, cooo!”
As learned from his friend, and as was horribly clear to William now, the only way to get the woman to stop her torment was to embarrassingly wet one’s pants in an expression of humiliated surrender. To admit one’s helplessness before this bosomy bully and demonstrate to her satisfaction an unquestioned obedience to her tickling wishes.
“Tickle, tickle, tickl-le boy!”
For William, his surrender would also acknowledge his sitter’s accusation: That he was a sissy. A baby. A pretty, ticklish toy. A plaything for this fat woman’s amusement.
Losing all hope of relief from the devious lady’s touch, the lad shrieked in laughing surrender and squirmed about in the matron’s snuggling arms.
“Such a lucky boy, Billy is,” purred Mrs. Patterson. “He always wanted a tickling babysitter ...*giggle*... and now he has one!”
“No ho! No ho! No hohohohohohohoho...” was all the lad could reply before his protesting laughter was muffled by the warm softness of his sitter’s massive bosom.
“Hush, sweetie,” purred the matron, as she snuggled the boy close. “It’s tickle time...”
Hearing the woman hum contentedly to herself, distracted smiling as if she were doing nothing more strenuous than an evening’s knitting, William squirmed about in a last-ditch effort to escape. Again finding his struggles thwarted by the distracting hysteria of the matron’s nimble fingers, the boy soon resigned himself to the mercy of his babysitter’s tickle and relaxed, defeated, in her arms.
Mufflingly laughing along with the matron’s contented musical hum, William knew it was over. As nimble and precise as the earlier clickity-click of her knitting needles, Mrs. Patterson’s ticklish finger-strokes moved rhythmically on and on and on in an endless, perfectly repeated tease which the boy knew could continue for as long as his babysitter wanted. Too weak to escape, unable to reason with his tormentor, the lad knew the only way he could escape his predicament would be to do as his sitter wished: To obediently wet himself like a helpless sissy baby boy.
Regarding the fat woman’s placid smile as she hummed along to the fingers teasing up and down his helpless soles, the boy reflected upon a saying he’d heard many times before but had never truly understood. Until now.
“Be careful what you wish for,” thought William, as he babyishly surrendered to his sitter’s wishes. “Someday, you just might get it!”
(To be continued..?)