The Playful Babysitter

by Gray Fisher

  The Playful Babysitter

  And Other Tales of Male Submission,

  Fetishism and Erotic Humiliation

  Stories of Sexual Teasing and Seduction from a Celebrated Contributor to Leg Show Magazine

  By Gray Fisher

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2014 by Gray Fisher Publications. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

  Table of Contents

  The Adjunct Professor

  The Playful Babysitter

  Model Humiliation

  The Playful Babysitter Returns

  Foot Worship Scrabble

  A Matter of Discrimination

  Fleet Feet

  The Adjunct Professor

  The excuse was in black and white in his e-mail. Jasmine, the blond-haired surfer girl, she of the Caribbean Tan hot body contest, claimed she missed class and a major assignment because she was stuck in Florida after a surfing competition. Her flight home was canceled, said the note, then her computer crashed with all her work on it.

  The professor was skeptical. How he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Those bright, wide blue eyes, the pouty lips, and those long, tan legs. The bejeweled navel he’d only seen in the Caribbean Tan contest photos when he’d Googled her name on the Web. And those well-groomed size 7 feet, sturdy like an athlete’s, but soft in spite of her passion for hanging ten. He’d noticed her manicured, red-painted toenails when she wore flip flops in class, her shoe of choice. He’d look discreetly underneath the open desk as he returned papers, or critiqued speeches. Quick, fleeting looks. It wouldn’t be good if any students caught their Speech professor leering. The embarrassment would be crippling to his budding confidence and adjunct teaching career.

  His moral obligation dictated he look into her excuse, and when he did so, he found she was likely lying. When he confronted her, via e-mail, she fessed up – although her computer did crash, she insisted – and in fact had sought counseling for her need to lie to friends and family. She basically threw herself on the mercy of the court, willing to accept reduced grades for the late assignments.

  The professor didn’t like being lied to, nor did he care for being manipulated, even by an attractive, leggy, athletic woman. Had the student in question been male, or an average looking girl, the decision of how to handle the situation might have been a no-brainer. Two zeroes, resulting in a possible failure of the course.

  But Jasmine didn’t deserve that. He liked her, and saw potential. In private moments, his mind raced with ways she might be willing to sway him, and salvage her grade. He tried hard to banish the thoughts. Teachers don’t have relationships with their students, not even those of legal age.

  The following week she did show up for class, late assignments in hand. But her appearance was different. She’d darkened her blond hair to a light amber, giving her a more studious – and in fact sultry – look. The professor was also struck by how she was dressed. A tight black shirt which did little to disguise her pert, well-rounded breasts, a faux leather miniskirt, also black, and in an astonishing change of pace, a pair of black pumps with sensible three inch heels. It was all he could do to avoid swooning during the three-hour lecture.

  They both knew she’d remain after class to discuss her situation – both the academic and personal aspects. At 8:20 at night, the floor of the building was virtually deserted, save for the petite, Latino cleaning woman making her rounds.

  “I’m truly sorry for lying about missing class,” she said straight out. “I hope you’ll let me make it up.” As she spoke, she arched one eyebrow.

  “Jasmine, you have lots of potential. I’d hate to see you waste it, but it’s not fair to the rest of the class if I make an exception for one student,” the professor said.

  He noticed she was slipping her right foot in and out of the pump, never taking her eyes off of him. “Uh, besides, I, uh, don’t like being lied to.”

  “OK, professor,” she said forcefully. “What will it take to preserve my grade?” She placed her hand on the professor’s left thigh, perilously close to the now obvious bulge in his slacks. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. He couldn’t let her know the effect she was having on him. Oh no! It was too late.

  “Oh my, professor. Naughty, naughty, professor. Don’t you know you can get in a lot of trouble sprouting a tent like that for one of your students?” Her voice was mockingly admonishing.

  “Um, uh, Jasmine, I think you should go now. Nothing has happened here,” he said, trying to maintain an even-toned voice.

  Jasmine raised her bare foot from her shoe and placed it on his growing bulge. She began moving it slowly up and down. “What’s the matter, hmm? Doesn’t professor like my cute little toes on his pecker? Maybe he wants me to slide them harder, hmmm?” she sang in a little girl voice.

  The professor felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach. He was torn, thinking this situation was getting well out of control, but enjoying the manipulations of her soft, shapely foot nonetheless.

  “Uh, you’re a very attractive girl, Jasmine. As I said, you have a bright future. I’ll really need you to stop, while there’s still a chance.”

  “Stop what?” Her foot continued its journey back and forth on his penis, gaining a bit more speed. The professor’s eyes were rolling toward the back of his head. This had to be a dream...

  “I can’t,” he whispered. “It’s wrong. You lied to me, and I have to give you zeroes.”

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the classroom door. Startled back to reality, the professor shoved her foot away. At the same time, he rolled his chair behind his desk, where his excitement was safely concealed.

  The door opened. It was Becky, a student he’d run across in the hallway, and president of the sorority to which Jasmine belonged. He’d always noticed how well she dressed, typically wearing black or nude stockings and strappy high-heels. He couldn’t imagine what she was doing here, but the vision did little to reduce his hard-on. She had on a red spaghetti-strap blouse, and a tasteful knee-length white denim skirt. Her legs were sheathed in coffee-colored hose, and her feet were graced with red, four-inch heel pumps with ankle straps.

  “Jasmine, we were expecting you at the rush party half an hour ago. What’s the deal?”

  “Sorry, Becky. The professor and I were just having a little talk about my grade,” she replied. “He doesn’t want to negotiate on a couple of late assignments.” She perked up. “Hey, I know, if you can help me out, then I can get this over with and join the party.”

  “Uh, that’s OK,” the professor muttered. “We were just wrapping up anyway.”

  “But he wasn’t giving me the grade I deserve,” Jasmine pouted. “In fact, you were getting all bothered and inattentive while I was trying to make my case.”

  The professor’s face started turning red.

  “I’d love to do whatever I can, Jasmine. You know, we Sig girls have to stick together,” Becky said enthusiastically, referring to their sorority, Sigma Delta. “What should I do?”

  “First, let’s get him on the floor – where he belongs. The professor here has a little thing for girls’ feet, isn’t that right? I’ve noticed you staring at my toes while you were pretending to pay attention to the class’ speeches. Don’t try to deny it.”

  “Jasmine, please, you can’t tell anyone. It would–”

  “Then down on the floor, now!” she barked. The sudden change in her demeanor unnerved him greatly. This young vixen, whom moments earlier had been pleading for her grade, was now well in command. He had no choice but to comply.

  No sooner was he prone at her smooth, high-arched feet than Becky was hovering over him. “Tell me, Mr. Professor,” she said w
ith a sneer, “what do you think of my feet?”

  “Oh, uh, mmmmm,” the groan coming as she planted her now stockinged foot over his face. The smell of sweat, nylon and shoe leather went straight to the pleasure center of his brain. His cock swelled exponentially, fully betraying his fetish to his tormentors.

  “I think pwofessor likes your stocking foot in his face, dontcha?” cooed Jasmine. Her baby talk was maddening. With that, she skillfully unzipped his pants and exposed his hardness, which had been just about ready to burst the zipper. “Hey, Becky, I think our little friend here – and I do mean little, ha! – would enjoy some rubbing too.”

  Becky undid the ankle strap of her right shoe and slowly, gingerly slipped it off her foot. Her stockings had reinforced toes and heel. She deliberately moved her foot until it came to rest on his cock, then pressed down. She began rubbing it back and forth, slowly, seductively, against his stomach, as if she had no place to be at all.

  “Mmm....mmmm,” was all the professor could get out.

  “Oh for heaven sake, just blurt it out,” Becky admonished, taking her beautifully scented left foot off his face.

  “Please...stop,” the professor begged pitifully. It was a token plea, as his ever hardening cock indicated he clearly was enjoying it.

  “Well none of this would have been necessary if you’d just given me a fair grade,” said Jasmine. “Now, you’ve been exposed as the foot freak you are. And I can’t wait to tell Tina.

  The professor’s eyes widened. They were friends! Tina was an awful gossip. How many times had he overheard her before class talking about guys she had been out with, and their performances on dates? She was always the last to stop talking when he began class.

  “Noooo!” he yelped. “You can’t tell anyone!”

  “We’ll see about that,” Jasmine whispered. “It’s really up to you. While you consider my grade, it would be nice if you sucked my toes.” She forced her big toe and second toe into the professor’s mouth. His natural, self-debasing instinct took over and he began sucking for all he was worth.

  Becky continued her foot’s assault on his hardness, which was now slick with pre-cum. The professor groaned through the sides of his mouth as she worked him over, slowly, gently, with her soft nylon foot.

  “Professor, I can tell you’re enjoying this. But that’s not the point. We’re not going to let you enjoy it too much,” Jasmine said. “In fact, Becky here has lots of experience teasing men, being the head of the best sorority on campus and all. So she’s going to keep you right on the edge of cumming for a long, long time, and we’ll enjoy every minute of it. If you do a good job cleaning both my sweaty feet, and if you give me full credit for those two assignments, then she might just bring you over the edge. But we’ll reserve the right to share your little predilection with the rest of the girls in the class. And any physical evidence you leave on Becky’s nylon stocking may and probably will be used against you in any case.”

  “Please,” he groaned between slurps. He was now swirling his tongue around her big toe.

  “Please, what?” Jasmine said. “Please make you cum, or don’t tell the class?”

  His head was swimming. He didn’t know what he wanted, or didn’t want, at this point, other than to spurt his juices, preferably on Becky’s insistent foot. The threat about physical evidence barely registered, and if it had, it would have just been an afterthought to the relief he so badly needed.

  Becky had moved in such a way that the professor now had a clear view up her skirt, and the sight further inflamed him. Sheer pink panties, her cunt clearly visible through them. It had seemed impossible for his cock to get harder, but his reaction was clear. Becky’s foot, after all, was as sensitive to these things as it was merciless.

  “Ooh, professor! You shouldn’t be peeking up students’ skirts! Jasmine, show the professor what we do to bad boys who look where they shouldn’t be looking.”

  Jasmine knelt down beside him, her top riding up and exposing the shiny bangle in the shallow of her navel, the one he’d seen in the photo online. With the fingernails of both hands, she began very lightly tweaking his nipples.

  “Aagh,” the professor groaned. The sensations just kept building atop one another, as if having a beautiful coffee-hosed foot rubbing his cock wasn’t enough. His eyes literally couldn’t focus, and the burning of his balls was now causing him exquisite pain.

  “Hold it back, professor,” Jasmine said soothingly. “If you cum, we’ll definitely tell the rest of the girls in class.”

  But there was little the professor could do to stop from shooting, although it was an outcome he desperately wanted to avoid. His teaching career would be finished. Not only that, the humiliation would be intense. He could never so much as walk on campus again. But at the same time, his groin area was desperately trying to reach the natural, messy conclusion that both women were insistently trying to bring forth.

  Jasmine shoved her toes deeper into his mouth, and his very being was occupied by the acrid, sweaty scent of her foot. At the same time, Becky moved her other foot to his scrotum. She began thumping his balls, as if trying to coax his fluids out with greater force. He had only dreamt of being in a situation like this, but now that it was at hand, what little rational part of his brain was still functioning wished it would end and he could walk away with some part of his dignity still intact.

  “Look, Jasmine, he likes two feet on his privates better than one,” observed Becky, as his cock inflated even more. “Does the pwofessor like having his little dicky wicky massaged by the soft feet of a young sorority girl?”

  He could only groan in response. His juices were on the edge of exploding out in what would surely be one the great ejaculations in modern history. Just a few more strokes of Becky’s lovely, silky smooth foot would bring him over the edge, consequences be damned. “Oh yes,” he managed to blurt out as Jasmine repositioned her foot.

  But it was the wrong thing to say. Becky removed both her feet from his cock and balls, just as a stream of pre-cum dribbled out of his bloated head. “What? No!”

  “Listen, professor. Jasmine here needs full credit for those assignments.”

  “Yes, of course. She’s got it. One hundred points,” he stammered around Jasmine’s succulent toes.

  “And, I get an A for the semester. I do deserve that, don’t I, Professor?” Jasmine cooed sweetly.

  “Yes, yes, an A. Definitely an A.”

  “Well all right, then,” said Becky as she took a seat. Her stockinged feet grasped his cock once again. Very slowly, they resumed their up and down movement, his pre-cum making them slick. “But there’s still the matter of telling the class. We can’t have you leering at all the pretty girls’ feet, now can we. We’ll have to warn them.”

  “Noooo,” the Professor groaned, though it was unclear if he was agreeing with her statement or dreading the humiliation.

  “Oh, Professor, stop whining,” said Jasmine. “You know you’re loving it, and you’re going to cum at this point no matter what, so you might as well enjoy yourself and take it like a man.”

  “But, but...oh, my,” this last word as Becky aggressively squashed his penis against his belly and started to rub hard. “Don’t make me...I’ll be ruined.”

  “Well you brought it on yourself,” admonished Jasmine.

  “Hey, Jasmine,” Becky chimed in, “do you want to tell the girls at the sorority about this, or can I?”

  Hearing this struck even more fear into the helpless professor. Oh, god, he thought. He might have some of the Phi Sigma girls in future classes – if there were any future classes. And he had no way of knowing who belonged to the sorority and who didn’t. Which meant he could never get up before a female student again without wondering what she’d heard...

  “We’ll both tell them! I can’t wait! But we have to finish up here if we’re gonna get to that party.”

  With that, Becky increased the speed of her foot movement. Meanwhile, Jasmine wiggled her toes arou
nd inside the Professor’s mouth while staring down at him, pursing her lips and arching one brow in that manner that always made him weak in the knees. Her navel jewelry glistened in the fluorescent light of the room.

  “It’s time you belittle yourself for us, Professor. Would you like to cum on Becky’s sexy stockinged toes, hmm? Don’t they feel good, moving back and forth like that?”

  “I think he’s about to spurt, Jasmine.” Becky giggled. “I guess he’d rather cum than ever teach again.” Then, looking right in his eyes, “Come on Professor. We’ve got a party to go to. We didn’t dress this way for you, ya know.”

  Almost on her command, the Professor arched his back off the floor and with a loud grunt projected his cream in an arch that settled on Becky’s hosed instep. He continued to cum for at least a minute, all the while his eyes locked on Miss Caribbean Tan’s glimmering navel piercing.