"Sandy, come down--the baby sitter is here."  He pretended like he'd been in his room and took his time starting down the stairs.  When he got to the foyer, his Mom introduced him to Clara.  "Hi," he said sheepishly.  "Well, hello there young fella!" Clara beamed out.  "Um, what time should I make sure he's in bed by, Mrs. Trenton?"  "10pm at the latest," his Mom confirmed as she turned to look for understanding in Sandy's eyes.  "Well, I gotta get back to my homework now," Sandy whimpered, and he scurried off back to his room.  He'd already completed all of his work, but he felt a little uncomfortable and wanted to get away.

Sandy's parents left and Clara went into the living room, turning the TV on.  Sandy could hear it and sighed to himself.  Another lonely Friday, with nothing to do but read books or work on his sci-fi models.  His mother didn't like him surfing the Internet when she and her husband weren't home, so she used a special remote controlled switch to disconnect the phone jack in his bedroom whenever she wanted.  Running an extension cord wouldn't work either, as the line noise created from linking too many cords together lowered the speed to an unbearable crawl.

After leafing through a few pages of his new book, Sandy started paying attention to the sound coming from downstairs.  There was regular music coming from the TV.  Maybe Clara was watching something entertaining after all, unlike the soap opera and chick-flick watching baby sitters he usually gets?  Sandy came downstairs and stood at the entrance to the living room.

What he saw before him took him completely by surprise.  Clara had moved the furniture around a bit, leaving a nicely sized open space in front of the TV.  On the screen were a bunch of women prancing about in shiny tights and leotards.  And there was Clara, similarly clad, following in step.  She looked almost goddess like--her perfect body precisely defined by the snug clothing she wore.  Those bright purple tights and shimmery white leotard... Sandy couldn't stop staring at her.

A few minutes had gone by and the first part of the tape was over.  The next part was some sort of stretching cool down.  Clara sat down on the mat she had laid out on the carpet and took off her shoes and white anklet socks, exposing her purple nylon-Lycra clad feet.  Sandy's heart skipped a beat and he felt flushed.  A sense of anxiety, nervousness filled him with the urge to run off.  But somehow he couldn't.  He just kept staring.  Clara began to stretch out her legs.  Those gorgeously sculpted legs extended themselves into the air and swirled around, with pretty feet pointed outward.  In the next move, Clara sat up and spun around.  And found herself facing directly at Sandy.  "Hi there!" she blurted out with a smile, not even startled.  Immediately, like a subconscious reaction, Sandy took off up the stairs as fast as he could.  He jumped onto his bed and picked up his book, rushing to get back to the page he left off, while his heart raced faster than he'd ever imagined.

As his breathing subsided, he calmed down.  And tried not to think of what had just got him so excited.  "Hey Sandy--what's wrong?"  She caught him completely by surprise.  Clara was standing at his doorway.  Being clad in only tights and a leotard, she was naturally ultra quiet--he hadn't heard her approach.  "Huh?  What??"  "You seem really startled; is anything wrong?"  "Oh no.  No, no.  Everything's fine.  Just wondered what you were watching on TV.  That's all.  Sorry."  She watched him as he squirmed in his anxiety.  His eyes were all over her.  Especially her legs and feet.

Now Clara is not your everyday teenage girl.  She's kinky.  Sexy.  And loves it when she knocks boys off center, whether they're overwhelmed by her good looks or ovewhelmed with shyness from her straight-forward boldness.  Sandy was just 10 years old.  Definitely way out of range for her conquest of men.  But... it didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun...

She approached Sandy's bed and sat on the far corner.  He quickly shifted a bit as if to make room, but he was trying to shrink away without making it too obvious.  "Whatcha reading," she asked.  "Oh... just some stupid sci-fi book."  She smirked.  "You like reading stupid books?"  He tried to answer but became distracted as she swung one of her legs up onto the bed.  That incredibly sexy foot was less than two feet away from his face.  He had to stare.  "Stupid books?  No... well, they're not all stupid.  Sometimes it's fun to get into easy reading.  Umm... You can finish exercising if you want.  I won't bother you."  Clara wiggled her toes, and watched Sandy's reaction as he stared at her foot. "Oh you're not bothering me.  I was just cooling down.  Hmmm... you like my foot?"  He turned and looked at her "What?"  "My foot.  You just can't seem to stop staring at it.  I'm lucky, aren't I?  I have really pretty feet.  Most boys just love to touch them.  You want to?"

Sandy perched up on his shoulders and moved a little further away.  He couldn't go very far--he was now pinned up against the wall.  "Uh-uh-uh--no, no.  That's ok."  She lowered her smile.  Then swung her other leg up so that she was on the bed with him.  "What's wrong?  You're acting so nervous.  Why don't you just touch my foot and get it over with.  I promise you'll feel better."  He instinctively reached out a hand and touched it.  She was right--her foot was so pretty to look at.  And it felt so smooth and luxurious all snug in those shiny purple tights.  "Use both hands.  And rub back and forth.  I could use a little rub down after my workout."  At this point, Sandy had nowhere to go.  He obliged and started rubbing her foot, cautiously.  He was afraid of doing it wrong.  "That's good.  A little harder.  Mmmmm... more.  A little firmer than that."  Sandy applied a little more pressure.  Clara began to moan a little as he did this.  And he couldn't help but notice that he was starting to get a hard-on.  Just rub a bit more, then it'll all be over, he thought.  But the minutes wore on.  

"Ok, is that good enough?"  She opened her eyes and gazed at him with a very sexy smile.  "Yes.  That was really nice Sandy.  Thank you!"  He felt relief, as she got up and placed her feet on the floor.  Before she stood up, she turned her head to him.  "Now it's YOUR turn!"  "What?"  "Let me rub your feet."  He felt his face become flushed again.  "Um, no--that's ok.  I feel fine, honest."  "Have you ever had your feet rubbed," Clara inquired.  "Uh, no."  "Well, then.  How could I possibly let you down like this?  You've given me a rub.  At the very least, I should do the same for you.  Especially since you've never had one.  Here--take off your socks."

Before Sandy could even do anything, Clara had shifted over to his feet and pulled off his socks in one single swift motion.  She placed his feet on top of her lap, his soles resting comfortably on those tights clad thighs.  He wasn't that cooperative--she had to pull to get his legs over as he resisted.  "C'mon now, relax."  Before he could say anything, she had begun sweezing the tops of his feet with her perfectly manicured hands.  They were strong and muscular hands, yet still had a very feminine shape to them.  She lifted his right foot into her hands and began kneeding them.  He found this felt surprisingly good!  Sandy let his head fall back as he let himself enjoy this unexpected pampering.  Next she moved to his left foot.  But it didn't feel like she was using her hands.  It was her feet doing the rubbing.  Those incredible purple tights clad feet were both rubbing his left foot, while her hands continued to work his right foot.  He looked up to see what was going on, and Clara turned to look at him at the same time.  She instantly noticed how excited Sandy was, by the slight bulge forming between his legs.  A devilishly wide grin beamed from Clara's face.  Sly, and yet warmly inviting.  If Sandy was a few years older, he'd be yearning for her to engage him in a sexual romp.  "Doesn't that feel nice?"  "What?  Uh... yes, that's good," he replied.  He quickly closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and let her continue the massage.  He didn't want to think about anything else.

"Want to feel something even better?"  His eyes snapped open.  Uh oh, he thought.  He instantly tightened up, fearing what might come next.  Sandy lifted himself up onto his elbows.  "Uh, that felt great.  Thanks!  I'll let you get back to, to, what you have to do," as he pulled his legs back to his side.  Clara got up and left the room, looking back with a smile.  He wondered why she let her question go unanswered, but was relieved that nothing else happened.  He couldn't understand why he'd gotten so nervous.  That pre-pubescent confusing all kids go through... the unanswerable questions.  The fear.

But it wasn't over yet.  Clara had returned.  He looked up from his opened book to see her standing there with a big smile.  In her hand was--what?  "Here.  Put these on!"  She handed him a wad of material.  Stretchy.  Sky blue tights and a black leotard!!  "What??  I can't put these on, are you crazy?  I'm not a girl!"  He threw them back at her, nervously.  The smile melted away from Clara's face.  "Of course you're not a girl.  Whoever said you were?"  "You want me to put on girls clothes!"  "Excuse me, but men wear these too, you know.  I thought you might enjoy trying a sensation you've never felt before."  Sandy had no idea why she was doing this.  But Clara knew.  Before the night was over, she planned to have him pracing around in her tights.

"That's quite alright.  Now I'm getting back to my book.  Can you please close the door when you leave?"  She turned and walked to the door and closed it.  But remaining on his side of the door.  "What are you doing?"  "Sandy, I'm your baby sitter.  BABY.  Get it?  You have to listen to me."  Sandy started getting really nervous; what the hell was she planning to do?  "Take off your clothes."  He shook his head.  Clara stepped forward swiftly.  Before Sandy could even take a step, she had him up in his arms, then she plunked him down on the bed.  Sandy kicked his legs, struggling while she tugged at his pants, trying to get them off.  "Stop.  Stop, please!"  She stoppped.  "Look, I'm not going to hurt you.  Just do what I say, ok?  I'll let you have ice cream and stay up until 11pm!"  "But I don't want to wear any sissy tights!"  Clara firmed her grip and tugged hard--the pants finally slid off, despite Sandy's objections.  She quickly whipped the pants across the room.  His white briefs couldn't hide the fact that he was aroused.  Clara sat down next to him and smiled.  She lifted her hand up. Sandy flinched his hands up to his face for protection, but she gently took hold of them, caressing, telling him to relax.   She tugged a little more so his face was free of his hands, and gently touched his cheeks.

Sandy couldn't deal with the conflicting messages.  Overpowering fear and control, yet soothing and gentleness.  Who is she?  What will she do to me?  "Now Sandy, I want you to try something.  You'll do it once.  If you don't like it after that, fine.  You can take them off. Here," she said, handing him the blue tights.  "Put these on."  She laid them across his hands.  The silky, stretchy, shiny tights caressed his hands.  The felt nice, and yet... he also saw them as something girly.  But all he had to do was put them on, say he didn't like them, then off they'd come and he'd be free.  "How do I...  how do I wear these?"  Instantly, Clara came back with her warm smile.  "First what you do is roll up the material of one leg, like this" as she demonstrated.  "All the way up to the toes.  Then you slip the toe part over your toes and glide the rest of it up.  But first, you'll have to take these off."

His eyes widened nervously as she snapped the waistband of his underwear.  "W-w-w-what?  You want me to get NAKED??"  "Sandy, men don't wear that kind of underwear under tights.  You have to take them off."  "Not in front of you," he exclaimed.  "OK, that's fine.  I'll just turn around.  Take off your underwear and then put on the tights like I showed you."  Clara turned and faced the door, standing still.  Sandy hesitantly stood up, staring at her.  "Just don't turn around, ok?"  "I won't--I promise."  He slid his briefs down to his ankles and kicked them off.  His penis stood almost straight out, still slightly engored from the earlier excitement.  He sad down on the bed and slid his right foot into the bunched up tights leg.  Gradually, after pulling up on the material, his right leg was almost completely clad in blue Lycra.  He repeated the same step with his left leg.  Now, with the waistband of the tights just below his groin, he stood up.  His penis was starting to rise, throbbing.  He pulled the waistband all the way up and let go.  And there he was--standing completely naked except for those shiny blue tights.  He looked down at himself, watching the throbbing motion of his trapped penis.

"Ok, are you done," she asked.  Sandy stammered a little. "W-w-w-well... almost.  It's just that you can still see me.  I really don't--"  Clara turned around, cutting him off.  "You did it!  You got them on all by yourself.  That's great.  Here, now the next part is the leotard."  She stepped forward with the leotard open--she had it all ready for him once he had the tights on.  "Step one leg here.  Right here."  He nervously stepped forward through one leg hole.  "Great, that's it--now the other one..."  He did the same with his left leg.  As soon as both feet were down, she quickly lifted the leotard up beyond his waist.  "Now slide your arms through the arm holes."  He put them through, obediently.  It was a semi-short sleeve leotard, with the arms stopping just over his elbows.  "Now sit down on the bed so I can straighted your seams out."  She reached down, touching his feet and aligning the seams so that they ran nicely along the edge of his toes.  Next, she smoothed her hands upward, making sure the material was stretching uniformly.

As her hands glided up his thighs, he couldn't help but feel more excitement in his crotch.  And Clara loved to see this, how she managed to con this little boy into her tights, getting him all nervous and excited at the same time.  "Almost perfect, except.  Well, I'm going to have to straighten this.  Don't move."  And before he could, her hands slipped behind the front of the leotard, grabbing the crotch seam that was askew by an inch.  She worked the tights around a bit, trying to get the last seam straight.  And of course, she made sure her hands brushed up against his penis a few times.

Sandy felt so strangely ashamed and turned-on at the same time.  But when she touched him on his privates, that old familiar tingle began to swell within his maleness.  The feeling he'd get when he'd occasionally pleasure himself while laying in bed.  Clara could see the stirring in his eyes, and between his legs.  She eased him back onto the bed.  He leaned back with her pressure, in a cloud of confusion and dreaminess.  Then Clara lowered her pelvis down onto his left leg, so her swelling clitoris felt the pressure of Sandy's thigh.  Her feet anchored themselves on his calf, keeping the leg right where she wanted it.  Next, she leaned forward, gazing her hypnotic smile into his eyes, and gently started rubbing his penis.  He flinched slightly, but somehow just couldn't resist as she continued her pulsing motion.  She could feel his penis engorging with more blood as she continued.  And this just fed her excitement as she increased her pelvic thrusts.  She rocked them both, back and forth, back and forth.  Sandy trembled, murmuring, while Clara gently moaned "Oh Sandy, you feel so good in your pretty blue tights".

And that was all he could take.  She felt his penis, so stiff from excitement, explode with hard rapid pulses.  Sandy let out a loud moan as he climaxed.  And with this, Clara came too, but being a woman already in the throws of puberty, her climax was a wet one.  She gushed forward, drenching her tights and leotard, leaving a wet spot on Sandy's tights clad thigh.  "There," she gasped, breathing heavy.  "Didn't I tell you that would feel good?"  Sandy couldn't say a word, still consumed with the sexual rapture Clara brought for him.  And she would continue to do so, as he begged his mother for Clara to baby sit for him from now on.  Clara completely shaped Sandy's sexual future--he was hers, for years to come.

~Seamless~

• Re: the babysitter - PC Police - 19.05. 04:26:32
  • Re: the babysitter - Dep - 20.05. 00:13:22
    • Re: the babysitter - Seamless at - 21.05. 18:05:09