The Babysitter And The Toilet Seat

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER -- How many urban myths involving babysitters have you heard? There's the one about the babysitter receiving menacing phone calls, only to find they are coming from inside the house. There's another involving a babysitter and a creepy clown statue that seems a little too lifelike. And how about the one where a babysitter sits down on the toilet not realizing the seat has recently been varnished, and winds up stuck to the toilet with her panties around her ankles?

While the phone call and clown statue urban myths make for great horror stories, the one about the babysitter stuck to a toilet seat makes for a great fetish story and as such I present to you 'The Babysitter & the Toilet Seat', a kinky fetish story part of Literotica's April Fools' Day Contest for 2021.

Travel back in time and find out what happens when innocent 18-year-old babysitter Janine sits down on the toilet not knowing the seat has recently been varnished, and the dysfunctional family's 19-year-old daughter Karen -- a tempestuous lesbian -- has to help her with her predicament. What will Karen and Janine do?

Please note that this is a strong fetish story that involves urination, scat and menstruation, and if these themes aren't your thing this probably wouldn't be the right story for you. All characters and situations are fictional with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional. For any readers unfamiliar with Australian slang, fanny means vagina, dunny means toilet and a poofter is a male homosexual. Please enjoy this urban legend coming to life, and rate and comment.

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MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA, 1981

"Mum, how many more times do I have to tell you that I didn't teach David or Lucy to use the word 'poofter'?"

"Stop it with the lying Karen, just stop it right now. I know it was you, because as usual you are a terrible influence on the younger kids." As was typical, Mum didn't believe a word I was saying but this was nothing unusual in the house in the northern suburbs of Melbourne, Australia where I lived with my mother Alice, my stepfather Ross, my idiot twin brother Wayne and our much younger half-brother David and half-sister Lucy, aged seven and five respectively.

Mum and I had locked horns as soon as we were both home from work on this fine and sunny autumn Friday afternoon, this time over a call she received from the school the younger kids attended, saying that both had been using the word 'poofter' in class and in the playground, teaching it to the other kids who thought it cool and then were using it themselves. Mum of course blamed me, I was the 'bad' older sister who could do nothing right. Certainly, Mum wasn't going to nominate me for her favorite person award in the current year of 1981, but then again I hadn't won it in any other preceding years either. Mum and I squabbling was nothing unusual, and accordingly none of the other residents of the house had reacted to it.

David and Lucy were watching TV in the family room, while my stepfather was going around applying varnish to the window sills, the fucking dickhead singing some song off-key as usual. This would have been irritating enough but the smell of the varnish was far worse. At age 19, I was a hairdresser in the final year of my apprenticeship, having left school at the end of Year 10 to take up the trade. Working with smelly chemicals at the salon was part of my job, especially today as the order of the day seemed to be perms, but it pissed me off having to put up with the stench of varnish at home.

I pushed my dark brown hair back from my face. My hair was shoulder length, and styled a bit like British pop singer Kim Wilde although she obviously was blonde, and rummaged through my handbag for my packet of cigarettes and my lighter, but so strong was the smell of varnish that I decided against lighting up.

"Better not light up, the house might catch fire given those varnish fumes," I said with a laugh. "Jesus, is that husband of yours going to take much longer?"

"Your stepfather is working around this house after a busy day at the office," my mother stormed. "We could all do without your attitude, young lady. Some time without a cigarette in your mouth might do you good, in fact keeping your mouth closed for 24 hours would be ideal. When you do open your mouth, it's only to shove in a smoke, drink booze, chew gum with your mouth open, eat with your bad table manners or talk the absolute crap and bad language that comprises your vocabulary."

"I can think of something else I like to do with my mouth," I said defiantly.

Mum's face looked like she had sucked an unripe lime, and her skin went as red as her hair. "What was that Karen?"

I put a smart-arse expression on my face. "I like to whistle. You do that with your mouth. Or did you think I meant something else, Mother?"

"You can wipe that smart-arse expression off your face Karen," Mum said. She glared at me, and I glowered back at her. My mother was only 38-years-old, but she had always looked older than her age, and now looked more like a woman aged close to 50. "Your stepfather and I have been looking forward to his company's evening river cruise for some time, we will not have it ruined for us by you and your attitude problem. So Karen, what are your plans for the evening? What great things are you going to achieve? Going out into Melbourne to get blind drunk as usual with your cheap friends? Remember Karen, if you throw up again you'll be cleaning it up."

I sighed. "Mum relax, all my friends have different plans for tonight. I'm staying home, watching television and listening to some new cassettes. Happy?"

"I think you should spend this evening watching young Janine Riley, the girl we employ as a babysitter for David and Lucy. She is a most wonderful girl, so responsible and nice. We would ask you or that brother of yours to do it, but we wouldn't trust either of you to take care of a goldfish, much less babysit your younger brother and sister."

"Half-brother and half-sister," I snapped back. "Ross isn't my father or Wayne's father. If he was I'd chuck myself under a fucking train."

"Karen, do you think you can for once go a day without answering me back?" Mum demanded. "And you're right about Ross not being your father, you are your father's daughter through and through and the same goes for Wayne. And do you know if Wayne even got up today?"

"How should I know? I'm his twin sister, not his keeper. I was at the salon all day, working my arse off. How about you go and give Wayne a hard time instead of giving me the shits? I pay rent to you every week, not bludging off the dole like Wayne. He hasn't had job since 1979, and that one lasted three fucking weeks before they fired his lazy arse."

Before Mum could say anything more, we caught movement out of the corner of our eyes and in the doorway stood the tall, skinny, bespectacled form of my stepfather Ross. Fuck, was he a square. He stood there looking uncertainly at Mum and me.

"Um, Alice, Karen, hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said.

Mum shook her head. "No Ross."

"I've um, finished doing the varnishing, so um Karen, please don't touch them otherwise you might get your hand stuck to the window sill, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" said Ross, laughing nervously and looking like the complete and utter wimp he was. I couldn't believe how much fucking money he earned, doing some shit job with computers or some fucking shit. I thought that he would at least need to have a spine for a job paying that month, and my stepfather was a spineless cunt. He was scared of me that was for sure, and I stood at an average 5 feet 5 inches with a skinny frame. When he and Mum had married Wayne and I had the chance to change our surnames to Coleman too, but we both refused and stuck with our original surname of Miles.

As usual, fucking cockhead Ross looked at my mother for guidance as to what he should do next. "So Alice, do you want me to get washed up and put on my suit for tonight?"

"Yes, go and put on your suit Ross, I'll get ready too, we don't want to miss the boat," she said.

My stepfather turned and headed out, and Mum and I heard the sound of a car pulling into our driveway. I looked out through the front windows, and saw the small white car with P Plates displayed. The car door opened, and out stepped Janine, the babysitter who often took care of David and Lucy, carrying a cloth bag under her arm. Due to Mum working at a hotel which at times meant she was unable to take care of the kids after school, and Ross working long hours at his computer job, a babysitter was often necessary, and Janine was perfect for the role.

Mum glared at me as Janine rang the doorbell. "Now Karen, as I said earlier I suggest that you observe Janine tonight. You might learn some tips as to how to behave like a decent human being."

"Don't worry, advice taken, I'll be watching Janine tonight, taking lots of notes," I said, as Mum went and answered the front door.

"Hi Janine, thank you so much for babysitting for us again tonight," said Mum.

"Hi Mrs. Coleman, it's my absolute pleasure, David and Lucy are such great kids to babysit," said Janine, her voice reflecting her young 18 years, her Australian accent slightly stronger than mine.

Mum and Janine walked over to me, all three of us contrasting thanks to differing hair colors -- mine dark brown close to black, Mum a redhead and Janine having silky long blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders, a blue hairband keeping it in place and making her look prim and proper. With her big blue eyes, pretty face and perfect teenage body standing about my height, young Janine Riley was a stunning sight to behold. Her beauty today was accentuated by the fact that she still wore her school uniform from the private Catholic school she attended as a Year 12 student. This was a blue dress that came down to just above the knees on Janine's perfect legs, on which she also wore white ankle socks and shiny black girl's T-bar school shoes.

"Hi Karen," said Janine, the babysitter giving me a friendly wave and polite smile.

"Hi Janine," I said, also returning the friendly smile. I noticed that Janine was sniffing the air, reacting to the smell of varnish in the house, so I elaborated. "Ross was varnishing the window sills just before I got here."

"Yes, I noticed the smell as I came in," said Janine.

"We can open up some windows to clear the fumes," said Mum, as David and Lucy came running out of the living room in a state of great excitement at the arrival of their babysitter.

"Janine!" they yelled out, running up to her and giving her hugs.

"Hi David, hi Lucy, you get taller each time I see you," said Janine, embracing her charges for the evening.

"We love you babysitting us, Janine," said David.

"Are you going to read us a story before bed?" asked Lucy.

"Well of course I am," Janine promised them. "And I just love having fun with both of you. It's my favorite part of the week when I come to spend time with you."

My cynical and sarcastic mind thought that perhaps Janine actually preferred the Australian bank notes she received from my mother and stepfather to actually spending time with the children, but for once I kept my big mouth shut and went into the kitchen to get a drink of water, while Mum went through a few things with Janine.

In the kitchen, I ran into a surprise -- my twin brother Wayne. His skinny frame clad in a pair of football shorts and wearing a wife-beater vest, his long hair looking like it hadn't been brushed in a year, Wayne stood at the fridge, holding a milk carton to his mouth and drinking from it.

"You pig, don't drink from the milk carton like that!" I snapped, getting a glass of water.

My twin, with whom I shared the same skinny stature, looked at me, appropriately grunted like a pig in response, before returning the carton to the refrigerator.

"Karen, why does the house smell like varnish?" Wayne wanted to know.

"Because Ross was varnishing some window sills, maybe if you got out of bed sometimes you might have known that," I replied as my brother scratched his balls through his shorts, not caring I was there.

"And why is that Janine girl here?"

"Babysitting. Mum and Ross are going out tonight, remember?"

My brother looked confused. "Strange for them to go out on a Thursday night?"

"It's Friday today, Wayne," I reminded my brother.

"Huh?" Wayne grunted. "Could have sworn it was Thursday."

"Well, when you spend all day in bed you lose track of time," I pointed out. "Tell me Wayne, is this the first time you've gotten up today?"

"Uh, well I needed to chuck a piss around lunchtime, but otherwise nah," said Wayne. "Hey Karen, could I have one of your smokes? I'm running short."

"You want smokes, go and get a job and earn money to buy them," I shot back. "You're not having any of my cigarettes."

"You're a fucking selfish bitch Karen," Wayne complained, as he scratched his arse and made his way back to the messy sleep-out he inhabited, spending so much time in bed that I was surprised he didn't have problems with bed sores.

"And you're a lazy spastic," I shot back. "You couldn't work in an iron lung."

Wayne vanished from sight and I went into my bedroom, getting some nail polish and nail polish remover. My finger and toenails, both covered in pink nail varnish were looking a bit messy, so I planned to put on new polish.

Kicking off my open shoes so I was barefoot, I walked back to the living room, where my younger half siblings were most impressed by one of Janine's calculus textbooks that she had brought along to study from when the kids had gone to bed.

"Wow Janine, you do sums with numbers and letters!" David exclaimed.

"Yes, all big kids like me do maths with numbers and letters," said Janine. "It's called algebra and calculus."

"When will we have to do sums with letters and numbers?" Lucy asked. "It looks really hard."

"Not until you go to high school, I promise," said Janine.

I hadn't liked maths at all at high school, in fact I hated school from pre-school until the day I finally got out of that shithole high school at the end of Year 10. I hated most subjects and most of my teachers and was always in trouble, not being able to keep my foot out of my mouth for more than a day at a time. Wayne similarly hated school and like me left at the end of Year 10, but at least I passed Year 10 and had an apprenticeship to go to. Wayne got all F's -- although he probably should have got all Z's -- and dropped out without a single qualification to go on the dole.

I sat down in an armchair to do my nails and Mum and Ross came through, now dressed and ready to go out for the evening. Mum looked at Janine then at me before they left, and it was clear who she would prefer to call her daughter.

Re-painting my toes while Janine fed the kids their tea, I thought about how my mother would probably prefer it if Wayne and I would simply vanish from her life. But Mum had nobody else to blame but herself for having a young adult twin son and daughter who were complete disappointments to her. Mum was the one who aged 18 back in 1961 and going to an agricultural show in Geelong with her friends let a handsome young carnival worker named Eddie get into her knickers. Given Mum's ovaries had released two eggs that month and one of Eddie's X sperm found one and one of his Y sperm the other, Wayne and I made our way into the world in 1962 and making Mum a single mother at age 19.

This was nothing unusual in Mum's family it seemed; Mum's sister had four kids to three different fathers. Our Dad didn't have much to do with us in our lives, being a 'carnie' or 'showie' to use the Australian or New Zealand term, he was on the road all time throughout Victoria, and into South Australia, New South Wales, the Australian Capital Territory and Queensland depending where the shows went. He would send money from time to time, but he and Mum weren't in a relationship and he was far from a responsible parent.

Therefore, at various times growing up in Melbourne's Western Suburbs raised by our single mother Wayne and I called home a caravan park in Sunshine; Mum's parents' house; some crappy old weatherboard housing commission home out near Yarraville that was like an oven in summer and a freezer in winter; another crappy commission home, this time half of a duplex in Altona that I swore was haunted; and a block of high rise housing commission flats in Williamstown. I actually didn't mind living in the flats -- if nothing else there were plenty of other kids to play with and we enjoyed million dollar views of Port Phillip Bay and the Melbourne city skyline, but when Mum met that dork Ross everything changed.

Suddenly Mum was 'middle class' living in a nice home in the suburbs with four bedrooms and two bathrooms, two new children, a husband earning a packet and a much better job herself. Unfortunately, Wayne and I were constant reminders to Mum that she had gotten herself knocked up by an itinerant carnival worker as a teenager, and given we both looked more like Dad than her I think she would have liked to banish us to Tasmania or the Northern Territory and forget our existence.

Despite usually not listening to Mum's advice, this night I did and spent the time I was fixing my finger and toe nails observing young Janine Riley, the pretty little 18-year-old everything I was not. She was polite, friendly and a straight A student at high school. However, my reasons that I observed Janine were not for any that my mother suggested I might want to watch Janine. I watched Janine for the reason that was my greatest secret in life -- I was a rug muncher.

To be accurate I wasn't a total lesbian, I had been with plenty of guys. I had jerked off their dicks until they came all over my hands, I had sucked their cocks and let them ejaculate in my mouth and I had let them get into my knickers and let them fuck me up my cunt, taking more precautions than my mother did at my age. I had even let a guy fuck me up my arse one time, although not again as sitting down on the toilet to take a shit the next morning was not a pleasant experience. It was most uncomfortable, and as we hadn't used a condom I found out the hard way that combining a girl's poo with a guy's stale cum produces one of the worst smells known to man.

However, while I did like screwing guys, girls were my favorite partners in bed. There was just something so sensual about being intimate with another girl, putting our hands down each other's knickers, making out, and eating out each other's hairy pussies, drinking the girl juice and enjoying the feminine smells between each other's legs was heaven. Often I would sniff my own smelly knickers from the hamper while masturbating and pretend that they were another girl's knickers and that she was finger-fucking my fanny.

I would have plenty to sniff on my lacy pink bikini style knickers I was currently wearing. My tight jeans sent the double-cotton crotch up my cunt to absorb my girly smells, my pussy getting plenty damp as I observed young Janine as the babysitter went about her business.

Looking so hot in her school uniform, I observed Janine's nice bum, the teenager sporting a visible panty line through her school dress. Her perky teen tits pressed against the fabric of her uniform, and I could see the outline of her bra. She was perfect in every way, definitely at the front of the queue when looks were handed out to girls born in 1963, and I day-dreamed about getting into Janine's knickers and seeing her pubic hair, the evidence that the young girl was a natural blonde. If I was a guy, I couldn't have stood up without embarrassment, but as I was obviously a girl I had no problems aside from sticky knickers. However, the prospects of me getting into Janine's pants were not so much slim as anorexic as the teenager has a serious boyfriend called Paul, who was a fellow Year 12 at her high school, and in any case it was unlikely she was a dyke like me anyway.