Lisa saw that the figure was her mom. Marge knelt next to Lisa and smiled.
"Good morning" said Marge. "Mom, I think Bart tied me up. Quickly, untie me before he comes back and figures out that I'm awake" said Lisa, figuring Bart had done this to tickle her poor bare feet. "It wasn't Bart who tied you...it was me" said Marge. "What? Why'd you do that?" asked Lisa. "How else am I gonna tickle your feet?" asked Marge. Lisa gasped as her mom got up and knelt down near her now squirming feet. "Ooh, look at those little feet go. Are you nervous?" asked Marge as she began gently and ticklishly stroking a single finger up Lisa's left sole, then the right. "EEK...Mom no, NO. NOnonononoNOOOOOnonono" panicked Lisa as Marge stroked up and down slowly and teasingly. "Oh, but I think you ARE nervous. Itchygitchygitchy" teased Marge. Eventually, Marge stopped. "Alright, you've had your fun and tickled my feet. Now untie me" said Lisa. "Not yet. The fun has only just started" grinned Marge before leaving, obviously to get something else to tickle poor Lisa with.
Lisa was in disbelief. Her own mother was planning to tickle her silly, to torture her poor bare soles with ticklish sensations while she suffered in ticklish agony. She'd never have suspected her mom of doing something like this. Her brother, sure. Milhouse, perhaps. But never her own mother. She knew from experience that her mom could REALLY tickle, and she knew ALL her panic spots. She dreaded what would be next for her poor feet.
When Marge returned, Lisa's eyes grew wide in terror. She'd fetched...
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