Dare Me (new 5/11)

[Darky]

Great presentation. Could hardly believe you can ever beat this story again. Very hot

[perseus]

This chapter was amazing! Each installment gets better and better! This has been one of the most creative and enjoyable stories I've read!

I really hope you keep this going, I really want to see what you come up with next! The interest is high with me

[neverdoubted]

About a month later, when the time came to expect another dare request from Lucy, I didn't have anything lined up. Nothing like the spectacular history club dare I had given her last month. I was still anticipating it though, hoping to prove my theory that her urges followed some sort of biorhythmic pattern. I already deduced that something within her shut down in the winter and heated back up in the spring. It followed the seasons. With the calendar turning to May, I expected her to come to me any day now. But she confounded me with silence.

Maybe I had gone too far with her last dare? Had the humiliation been too much? Was it scaring her off? The rumors had been swirling at her school ever since her performance. Every boy in the history club had spread his own account of Lucy's mostly naked slave girl show. I'm sure she had to field many embarrassing and teasing questions from her classmates after that. But the stories got jumbled and twisted until they sounded more like speculation and rumor. And, as rumors tend to do, each retelling tended to come with exaggerated embellishments until it was so fantastical that no one really believed it had happened.

Lucy's humiliating performance faded into a schoolyard legend, only truly known by the seven boys who had been there. And since I had stolen the video tape, the only other evidence was the pictures Mr. Clark had taken. And at that time, I didn't know what had happened to them. I did have one guess. Every year, on the history department's page of the yearbook, there was a section about the contest along with a picture of the winner’s costume as well as a history club group photo. I thought it would be hilarious if a naked picture of Lucy somehow made it into her sixth-grade yearbook. But I wouldn't know anything until the they were released on the last day of school.

There was one other factor that I strongly suspected of keeping her from asking for another dare. Last month, I had added a major new requirement. Once she uttered those two fateful words to me, she was not allowed to pleasure herself for the duration of the dare. After last time, perhaps she was reluctant to hand over so much power without knowing when she would get it back. I knew for a fact that type of uncertainty drove her crazy.

I reckoned she would come to me around the one-month anniversary of her previous dare. But she did nothing of the sort and avoided me all that evening. But from that point on, I paid close attention to her and started to detect signs of her itch returning. She started to act kind of strange. She stopped eating and was antsy all the time. I caught her eyeing me up more than once. I think she was trying to hold out and resist the temptation to ask me for a dare even as the withdrawal took its toll on her system. As hard as she tried not to give in, I doubted it would work.

I also strongly suspected she was blowing off steam every night in an attempt to stave off the urge. But from experience, I knew that strategy was doomed. She would get no real quality diamonds that way. It was only a matter of time before, perhaps in a moment of weakness, she would come to me asking for help.

Life was far from paused while I waited, though. I had made the basketball team. As a seventh grader, I never got any playing time. But the practices were fun. I had also turned 14 and made an utter fool of myself in front of a girl I liked. That was a first for me, but by no means my last time.

Her name was Rebecca Foster and she was my first real girl crush. She was popular and beautiful, and I figured I had no chance with her. I had no game and no confidence when it came to girls. But when she found out I was on the basketball team, I guess she decided to give me a chance and agreed when I nervously asked if she wanted to be my girlfriend. We weren't really old enough for dating or anything, but we did hold hands in the school hallways all that week.

Then, that Friday, we stood outside the school to say our goodbyes for the weekend. That’s when disaster struck. She said she would miss me, and I somehow picked up her strong hints that she wanted a goodbye kiss! But stupid me, when I went in to kiss her, for some reason, my hands automatically reached up and grabbed her boobs! I swear, I have no idea where that came from! But she immediately broke off the kiss and slapped me hard across the face. That was the end of my girlfriend adventures for the rest of the school year.

I suppose there is one other thing worth mentioning. Somehow, I got roped into being our family's clothing police. Lucy really hated being cold. But as the weather got warmer, she started wearing less and less. She was like a snake shedding the layers she had depended on to stay warm through the winter and spring. And now with summer fast approaching, she just wanted to let her skin breathe and soak up the sunshine.

Unfortunately, school wasn't out for summer just yet. And some of her chosen outfits certainly did not meet the school's dress code. More than once I caught her walking out the door in a too short skirt and made her go back and put on tights or leggings. And she particularly seemed to enjoy the fact that she was growing an actual cleavage. She loved to wear loose neck tops which would flash her entire bra and more whenever she bent over. Several times, I had to make her put a light sweater or extra shirt on.

But it wasn't just Lucy with wardrobe problems. One day, I was camped out by the front door waiting to see what outrageous outfit she had picked out when mom came out to leave for work. At first, I thought I was imagining things. But it was not my imagination. Mom was wearing a dark colored silk top with no bra or slip underneath. She was usually so self-conscious about her oversized breasts and typically wore clothes to de-emphasize their mass.

The sight didn't bother me. I mean, I had seen breasts before. I had even sucked on her breasts when I was a baby. More concerning to me, it was completely inappropriate for a business setting and out of character for her.

"Uh, Mom?" I asked, "You sure you want to wear that to work? I mean, I can kinda see your boobs. Shouldn't you at least put on a bra?"

"Benny told me to wear it like this today. He said it looks better without a bra." was her strange robotic response.

Benny? Since when did she start calling her boss by his first name? And when do bosses get to decide what you wear? And what boss tells his female employee not to wear a bra to work?! But she was such a pushover. People were always taking advantage of that fact. I had to stick up for her.

"I don't think so," I replied, "At least go put a bra on."

About then Lucy came down about to head to school in a crop top and I had to intercept her. The next day was even more outrageous. Mom came out in a blazer top with nothing underneath. Not even a blouse! Only two buttons separated her massive boobs from total exposure. Lucy came down in a white tee shirt with no bra on. What is it with these girls? Are the allergic to underwear? Anyway, that's how I spent my mornings. Guarding the front door to make sure one or both of my female family members didn't leave the house in something that would get them into trouble.

Whenever I questioned mom about it, she always said it was Benny's idea. I was agreeing with my Aunt Julie more and more every day that Benny really was a first-class scumbag pig. When mom came home that Friday evening, I knew something had to change.

Instead of looking forward to a stress-free weekend like most employees, mom said Benny was planning a luau for some clients the next day and she was required to attend. She came out of her room the next morning in the costume he had provided for her. It was ridiculous!

The entire outfit was nothing more than a coconut bra and grass skirt along with a flower lei. Only they didn't make coconuts big enough to hold mom's massive mammaries. her breasts bulged out obscenely in every direction around the coconut halves. The grass skirt was even worse. It was super short, more like a grass tutu. And of course, he had told her not to wear anything underneath.

For someone in their mid-thirties, mom was objectively a gorgeous woman. She attracted more than her share of men and could have had her pick of them. But she had no confidence. I think dad might have had something to do with that. He had shattered her self-esteem and made it so she didn't trust men enough to form a meaningful relationship.

Even with her butt hanging out the back and her breasts threatening to escape their confines, she was not ashamed for me to see her. I think she saw me as an ally, one of the few people in her life who had her back and wouldn't hurt her. And she was right. I had to put my foot down. Authority was the only thing she would listen to.

This was a long time coming and it was time somebody stood up to Benny. It went beyond just making her work overtime on occasion. He had manipulated and twisted her mind into pretzels. He could probably announce some ridiculous new policy like "Topless Thursdays" and mom would comply without question.

The supposed "business trips" really brought out the worst in him. I had overheard some of her phone conversations with Aunt Julie complaining about those trips. Under the auspices of having to save money, he always got only one hotel room, with one bed. I didn't want to think about what all he had made her do on those trips.

"Mom, you're not going to that luau." I said with as much authority as I could muster. She nodded then stood there like a lost puppy, waiting for me to tell her what to do next. She looked so tired, more than usual. The stress of working for Benny was wringing the life out of her. Something had to give.

I remember hearing Aunt Julie advising her to start collecting evidence of his wrongdoings after a particularly horrendous experience last Halloween. I asked mom to tell me if she had anything like that. I know that sounds a lot like blackmail, but I didn't know what else to do.

She said "no", but she did know where he kept the key to the files in his desk at work. There had to be a ton of evidence there. That sounded like a good place to start, but mom didn't want to do it. It meant risking her job and she was worried about money. We were already so deep in debt. Lucy, in particular, had expensive tastes and was constantly wringing money out of mom for new clothes and stuff. And mom was such a pushover, she always gave in even if it meant not paying a bill that month.

If she lost her job, she feared we might have to sell the house, our only remaining thing of real value. I told her it was foolish to cling to a job that she hated and was not rewarding, emotionally or financially. It just wasn't worth it. I assured her we would find a way to make things work. We could cut back our expenses and I could control Lucy's egregious spending habits. I could even get a part-time job to help out. It was high time for me to step up and pull my own weight anyway.

My speech and offers to help carry the burden of our family's finances emboldened her greatly. She agreed to snoop around his files and make copies of anything she found that looked suspicious. She admitted today was a good time to do it since Benny would be busy at the luau. She walked confidently out the door, ready to head straight to the office and ruin her corrupt boss. There was only one problem. She was still dressed in nothing but her ridiculously skimpy luau costume! I had to catch her at the car and make her go back in and change first. Man, that woman's brain was really fried! perhaps a break from work would do her some good. What she really needed was a vacation…

She returned a few hours later and laid out what she had found. I didn't really understand it, but she said it was clear evidence of something called "embezzlement". He was skimming money off every deal he and mom closed, cheating both his clients and his employer in the process. It sounded like the files she had copied were perfect! There was only one problem. Her name and signature were all over those pages, just as many times as Benny. That was his insurance plan. Mom couldn't blow the whistle because she would be in just as much trouble as him, even though she had never received a penny of the stolen funds.

Benny had devised a clever deterrent. He had turned a beautiful and pliant woman into his personal plaything. He exploited her in every way knowing she would never confront him on her own. He would have been content to keep wringing everything from her until there was nothing left. But he had not accounted for me! I was strong-willed and motivated to protect my mom and free her from his clutches.

He couldn't intimidate me. And I suspected he wasn't really willing to go to jail. He would fold if she confronted him and showed how desperate she really was; that she had nothing to lose, and he better cut a deal with her or face the consequences. I only hoped mom was up to the task.

[perseus]

Very glad to see you are continuing this story and have another chapter in mind after the swimsuit saga. This chapter looks like it going to shake things up quiet a bit. Excited to see where this goes!

[neverdoubted]

Very glad to see you are continuing this story and have another chapter in mind after the swimsuit saga. This chapter looks like it going to shake things up quiet a bit. Excited to see where this goes!

I pretty much have the whole thing outlined. I could post all the chapter names (subject to change) but thought it would have too many spoilers.

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 11 - Severance Package (Part 2)

I kept the phone unplugged all weekend so Benny couldn't get to her, and made mom practice her delivery of the evidence. I played the role of Benny. I knew it would be hard for her since she was not good at confrontation; thus, the practice. I had no idea how he would react, but I tried to verbally manipulate her in every way I could imagine. By Sunday evening she had accepted that fact that, by doing this, she was burning bridges. Her job was already a lost cause. That freed her to be more ruthless and parry every attempt at intimidation.

I couldn't concentrate and didn't learn anything at school the following Monday. Mom was supposed to confront Benny that afternoon. I started to get scared. What if the plan backfired? What if I got home and discovered that mom had been arrested and was going to prison? Lucy and I would be sent to live with Aunt Julie and my cousin whom I had only met a couple times.

I was so worked up, I pedaled hard the whole way home expecting the house to be surrounded by cop cars and police tape like in the movies. But there was nothing out of place when I arrived. Finally, around 6:30, mom's car pulled into the driveway, only a little later than usual.

She looked like she had gone ten rounds in a heavyweight boxing match - an emotional one, not a physical one. But she was smiling and had a look of relief on her face. I think she was glad to finally be freed from that miserable job.

She sat down at the kitchen table and told an abbreviated account of what happened. Benny was furious and had rained down all manner of insults and accusations upon her. But she held her ground. Eventually, when he saw he wasn't going to cow her into submission, he made her an offer.

He called it a severance package. She would resign from her job immediately and return all the files she had copied. Their working relationship would be terminated, and she must never tell a soul what she knew of his wrongdoings. Then he pulled out an envelope of cash from a safe in his wall and offered it to her, in exchange for her silence.

Mom pulled it out of her purse to show us that she had accepted the deal. Inside was a big stack of money! I had never seen so much in one place before. I felt like a millionaire! Lucy also squealed with delight when she saw it. I'm sure she immediately started dreaming up all the things she could buy with it. We helped her count it up, a mix of twenties and hundreds, and found it came to just over $12,000!

We listened in as Mom called Aunt Julie to tell her the exciting news. She was overjoyed to hear how mom had finally made that "scumbag pig" squeal. She also had some good advice to offer. Mom was worried about finding another job, but she told her to stop and enjoy the break. There were always sales jobs available for smart, attractive women, she told her. I had to agree. Mom needed to rest and recharge. The bills could wait.

Aunt Julie wasn't exactly a financial guru, but she did have some strong opinions on what to do with the severance package. She suggested lottery tickets, or a casino could really turn it into a jackpot. But that didn't sound very fun to me. I was more intrigued by her suggestion of a family vacation. She said mom should pull Lucy and I out of school for a couple weeks and get away.

That's how our first ever Jenkins Family Vacation was born. I liked the sound of a couple weeks off school and Lucy squealed at the prospect. Everyone around the table heartily agreed with Aunt Julie's suggestion. We excitedly talked over each other through dinner as we brainstormed possible destinations. Lucy and I had never even been on a family vacation before. We were always too poor and couldn't even imagine going anywhere. But spoiled by the unexpected windfall of the severance package, we were freed to dream and began spending it in our minds in earnest.

Mom said we could visit a travel agent after school the next evening to gather information. There was no such thing as a travel website back then. And getting ideas usually meant flipping pages in a tour book or magazine. She said they had traveled some when she and dad were first married before I was born, on their honeymoon, in fact. Then she got real cagey and changed the subject.

My interest was piqued, though, because she rarely talked about dad or their relationship. Later, in private, I got her to tell me what had happened on that trip. Dad had taken her to the French Riviera for their honeymoon, a popular vacation destination for the rich and famous. They stayed at a fancy, all-inclusive place. It was incredible, she said, until they got down to the beachfront and she realized they were at a nude beach resort.

He swore to her that it had been a booking mix-up, but wanted to stay and stick it out; insisting the French have a much more laissez-faire attitude about public nudity. When she balked, he put his foot down, insisting her only options were to spend the rest of the trip in the room or stop being such a prude and take off her suit so they could continue down to the nude beach. She reluctantly agreed, then watched in dismay while he threw her brand-new swimsuit in the trash right there on the boardwalk.
She spent every day of their honeymoon nude on the beach being ogled by amorous naked Frenchmen. There were some women, too, but none so self-conscious as the big-breasted, newlywed American girl who had never been naked in public before.

After hearing her tale, I could understand why she wouldn't want to go back to the French Riviera anytime soon. But she was not opposed to someplace warm and sunny. Judging by Lucy's squeals anytime it was mentioned, I knew she would cast her vote for a beach trip, too. What young lady wouldn't like two weeks in a tropical paradise?

She was disappointed that I made her stay home the next evening while mom and I, the two decision makers, went to visit the travel agent. I didn't want immature Lucy with her expensive tastes to take us in a direction we shouldn't. And I needed to focus so I could keep mom from being taken advantage of. I was there to provide budget discipline. Besides, I knew where my sister stood on the matter of destination opinions. I could cast a vote on her behalf.

Having never traveled before, I was overwhelmed by the exotic posters on the wall of the agency. Even the majestic pictures of airplanes in flight put butterflies in my stomach. Our agent was initially uninterested in helping us. She had a few brochures lazily spread out on her desk when we arrived for our appointment. But when she learned about our surprisingly robust travel budget, thanks to the severance package, she perked up.

She insisted we call her "Kiki" after that and swept the brochures off her desk as if they had settled there by accidentally like a layer of dust. She pulled out some binders from a nearby cabinet, and excitedly took charge as if she was part of the family and not just about to make a fat commission.

When we mentioned our desire for someplace warm, she showed us images of impossibly clear blue waters with glittering beaches. The accommodations were no less stunning; gilded monstrosities packed with every luxury imaginable. She took advantage of our naivete on the matter and kept recommending upgrades and perks that would make our family vacation perfect. With our budget, she assured us we would be treated like royalty.

Perhaps it would have been wise for me to pipe up and suggest a more modest proposal. We could have paid quite a few bills, saved some for a rainy day, and still had enough left over for a shorter, but still fun trip. But I admit I got caught up in all the excitement. The royal treatment sounded like a once in a lifetime opportunity, and "King Mikey" did have a nice ring to it!

By the time Kiki was through with us, every penny had been allocated. She sold us on this new foreign travel partner company which was trying to break into the lucrative American market (and was likely offering her a hefty finder’s fee). We were booked for a first-class flight to Fiji, a place I had never even heard of before, where we would spend two glorious weeks being pampered on what looked like a most luxurious remote island. Fiji was definitely a stretch for a lower middle-class single-parent family. But we had just enough money and I couldn't resist the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The pictures looked out of this world!

One picture showed our private bungalow. It sat in the water on stilts and you could literally step outside onto a deck and dive right into the ocean! Or you could turn the other way and access your own private white sand beach which curved around to make a perfect little lagoon.

Every meal would be catered and delivered, and fresh fruit and snacks were refilled daily. Unlimited drinks were included and delivered from the bar right to you on the beach if you wished. The bungalow had an entire spa's worth of equipment and a personal masseuse would visit every day if you wanted to give massages and other treatments. Mom particularly liked the sound of that.

We were planning to spend most of the time relaxing in paradise. But Kiki convinced us to add a few excursions as well; horseback riding along the beach, a boat tour around the island, a trip to see a waterfall, and reservations at a world class restaurant on a nearby island. But my real moment of weakness came from a flyer of a well-reviewed show put on by locals.

In the flyer, there was a picture of several topless performers wearing grass skirts. It was hard to tell the girls' exact age but judging by the size and perkiness of their naked breasts, I guessed they were in their late teens or early twenties. It sure looked like paradise to me, so I insisted Kiki add it to our agenda!

We made a 20% down payment of $2,440, from which Kiki surely extracted her fees, then returned home, drunken with visions of grandeur and heavy laden with binders of info. Lucy met us at the front door. She was buzzing with excitement and screamed when she heard the news. She had been on the phone all afternoon with Alexandra, her rich friend who traveled a lot, asking for travel tips and advice.

Before mom went to make dinner, Lucy gave her the biggest hug of thanks. Then she started to go and call Alexandra with the news. But before she left, she got overjoyed once more and stopped to do a little happy dance. Her feet tapped out a patter of sheer elation. I guess just then her excitement level, which had been growing all day, overwhelmed her. Turning to me with a huge smile on her face, she finally said it.

"Hey Mikey, dare me!"

I don't think she had meant to let those words slip out. Because she immediately snapped her hand over her mouth and stared at me with big eyes. But it was too late. A blush started forming on her cheeks as she realized the implications of what she had just uttered.

[perseus]

Dare me is starting to become my two favorite words in the English language. Can't wait to see what Mikey comes up for Lucy this time.

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 11 - Severance Package (Part 3)

I was caught just as off-guard by her dare request as she was. But I wasn't about to let her off the hook. She should know the rules by now. Once she asked, there was no backing out. But she might have to wait a while. The actual dare could come at any time and not knowing when was part of it. In addition, once she asked me, she was prohibited from pleasuring herself for the duration. That's likely what had caused the blush.

As usual, her timing could have been better. I would much rather be spending my time focused on our upcoming vacation than concocting another elaborate dare for her. That is partially what motivated me. Surely one day, she would reach her limit and give up. Until that day, I intended to keep pushing the envelope until that stubborn child learned to control her recklessness. I just had to use my secret weapons; heat, pressure, and time.

I smiled back at her and nodded then waived her dismissively away to go ponder her fate. I decided the kitchen table would be our vacation planning war room. After lunch, I cleared the table then started to organize all the documents and information. There was a lot of fine print and legalese that I knew was important to read through and understand. Mom checked in and noticed me studying it and smiled in pride. She was so happy to see me stepping up to help fill the void left by dad and carry the load that should have been shared by two parents all along.

I tried to stay on task but got distracted when I found a world map Kiki had thrown in, probably for the exact purpose of distracting us. I unfolded it and marveled at how far away Fiji was from America. It still didn't seem real that within a week I would be dipping my toes into the tropical waters of some foreign ocean half a world away.

Then I put the map away and began diligently reviewing our travel budget, making sure every expense was accounted for. Ok, that's a lie. While I should have been doing all that, I was daydreaming and staring at the vacation flier; the one with my smiling half-naked tropical island girls and their beautiful breasts.

Speaking of beautiful breasts, just then, Lucy interrupted from behind me. I turned in my chair and was greeted by the sight of my beautiful naked sister standing right behind me. I quickly hid the flier under some other papers then gave her my attention. Having been naked in front of me so many times by now, she wasn't at all shy. It still shocked my system a little bit every time, though. And it's only with some effort I was able to keep my eyes from bulging out and my mouth from panting.

"Hey Mikey," she spoke casually, "my friend Alexandra says you have to get a bikini wax if you're going to wear a swimsuit at our age. She says it's the best way to keep your hair from poking out down there. Only, I don't see any hair. Alexandra said the wax really hurts and I don't want to get one if I don't need to. Can you help me decide?"

I couldn't believe it. She was actually asking my opinion on whether or not she needed a bikini wax! Not about to pass up this opportunity, I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer until she was standing between my knees. I took note that her breasts had grown rounder in the past month, just by a bit, then turned my attention down below. By now I knew every little bend and crevice of her cute, puckered pussy. I could have drawn a perfect map from memory if I had any talent at drawing. It’s a shame Lucy got all the talent in that area. "Hey! Maybe I could get her to make me a naked self-portrait," I mused to myself. "That's an idea!"

I didn't recall ever seeing pubic hair on her body before. Her immature pussy had always been smooth and hairless. But she was going through puberty now and I hadn't seen her naked in about a month. So, I guess it was possible. I had been growing my own pubic hair for about a year now, so I kind of knew what to look for.

I leaned over and peered intently between her legs. With her legs together, her outer lips were mostly closed with only a thin gap running down between them in a straight line. I did not see any sign of heat coming from her diamond factory. When she got aroused, something happened deep within the folds of those cute little lips to produce moisture. But at the moment she was bone dry.

I could have stared at her latent flower and pondered the mysteries of womanhood all day, but I had a job to do. I was supposed to be judging whether I felt she needed a bikini wax or not. So, I turned focus back to the task at hand. And to my surprise, in the right light, I thought I could just make out the faintest coat of blonde hair starting to sprout on her mound.

But it was so very light and thin, I might be imagining it. Whenever I moved my head, it would frustrate me by disappearing. There was only one way to be sure. I reached up and grazed my fingertips along her pussy lips starting at the cleft. I detected something, but still wasn't convinced. When I reached the bottom, I slid my fingers back up; this time going against the grain. That's when I felt the invisible hairs tickling my fingertips. They were so soft and light, practically transparent, they might not even qualify as hair, more like the softest goose down. lol, Goosey down!

She gasped as my fingers rubbed against the sensitive skin of her most intimate area. When I reached the top, I traced my fingers back and forth over her cleft; marveling at how impossibly supple and smooth she was in that particular spot. Then I traveled back down her enticing mound for another round trip.

I applied more pressure on my second upward stroke. Her gasp was accompanied by a slight shudder which caused her breasts to make a cute little distracting jiggle. And I was treated to the very first real sign of heat since the start of her dare. I saw her nipples pop out and harden to little points in a matter of seconds as she shivered in my grasp. How did she do that? Being able to affect such a change in a girl by brushing a single spot on her body with nothing more than my fingertips made me feel like a powerful sorcerer.

While I was having so much fun, I knew I was playing with fire. My fingers were moving dangerously close to a very special place. Somewhere nearby was the button she was always so desperate to press at the climax of her dares. I didn't know exactly where, but I had watched her do it to spectacular results. But at the moment, she wasn't ready for that. There wasn't enough heat. If her button got pressed now, too early in the process, the resulting diamonds would be duds. No, I had to stop playing and give her more time.

"Good news," I declared, my fingers reluctantly backing away from the top of her cleft, their new favorite place, "you don't need a bikini wax."

That was an understatement. If I struggled to detect her pubic hair from less than a foot away, I'm sure people on a beach would never notice. Lucy was relieved to hear it. She never did have a high pain threshold. And the idea coating your most sensitive areas in hot wax sounded painful enough. Never mind what came next. Even soft goosey down would sting being ripped out by the root!

She gifted me a perky smile of thanks then turned and left. Ignore the throbbing in my pants, I tried to get back to the fine print. But I was interrupted a few seconds later by an exclamation in the other room.

"Lucy Marie Jenkins," came mom's voice, "what on Earth do you think you're doing!?"

I went to investigate and found Lucy at the sliding glass door to our backyard. She was still naked and standing in the threshold like she was on her way outside.

Lucy replied, "Alexandra says if you're going to the tropics, you have to have a base tan. Otherwise, you'll get a nasty burn on the first day and be miserable and peeling the whole time. Her family goes to Hawaii all the time."

Alexandra says... That girl was starting to annoy me. She made a good point that mom hadn't considered. Still, it didn't in any way explain or excuse Lucy's nudity.


"That's fine," mom replied, "but why aren't you wearing your swimsuit? Surely you don't mean to lay out naked!"

"I don't think my swimsuit fits me anymore." was her matter of fact answer.

Oh shit!

Suddenly it dawned on me how utterly unprepared we really were for this vacation. Lucy and her new pubescent body would never fit in her childish swimsuit from last year. We probably all needed new suits, maybe more. How many suits did a person need for two whole weeks of swimming? But it wasn't just suits. Mom had business outfits and we had school clothes and some play clothes. But nobody had vacation or travel clothes. Hell, we only had one pathetic old suitcase between the three of us!

Something clicked in my brain, and I remembered coming across a vacation shopping checklist somewhere in the stack of papers Kiki had provided. I resolved to go check it out but just as soon as I helped mom resolve this situation. In the past, she had expressed apprehension at Lucy being naked around me. But I guess my authority as de facto co-parent trumped any reservation she felt. She looked at me with deference, clearly expectantly me to fix this.

I thought a moment then offered a compromise. "You don't think your suit fits you, but have you tried?” When she shook her head, I continued, “At least go try it on. If it's too small, you can lay out in your underthings for now." Then turning to mom, I said, "we're gonna need to make a shopping list."

So much for budget discipline! Our family vacation plans weren't even an hour old, and we already had to call Kiki and change them. We explained that we needed to use some of the money for supplies. She was happy to help us cancel whatever we needed to, but made it clear the down payment and agency fees were non-refundable. We had her remove some of the bonus activities and dropped the flights from first class to business class. That freed up $1,000 for us to shop with.

Lucy came down in her swimsuit, a modest and childish one-piece. It was obviously too small for her and pulled up into an extreme wedgie between her legs. Her new boobs also bulged out the top and the unicorn on front was stretched into a grotesque figure. So, I gave her permission to lay out in a pair of panties and a bra instead and added a new suit for her to my ominously growing shopping list.

I found the sample checklist from the travel packet and started to go over it with mom. But I could see worry lines forming on her face as the list grew. The whole point of this trip was to give her a break from all the stress. But this just felt like another business meeting to her.

"Mom, why don't you take a break,” I offered, "I can finish this up by myself." She sighed in relief and eyed the door. I continued, "Come on, this is supposed to be fun! Let’s stop counting money and go spend some. Wanna go shopping?"

She really perked up at that idea. It had been a long time since someone had given her permission to spend money on herself.

"I could use a haircut before the trip, and maybe a mani-pedi," she said. Then she eyed the backyard and said, "but it's such a nice day out - too nice to spend indoors. Can't we go shopping tomorrow? I need a base tan too."

I nodded and, like a child given permission to leave the table, she got up and made a beeline for her bedroom. I returned to the list and, when it had reached a tipping point, I made a hard decision. We were going to have to call Kiki back and ask for more money. I tried to total everything up but failed to come up with a hard number for her. There were just too many things on the list that I didn't know the price of. How much did three sets of luggage cost? My best guess, we may end up needing $2,000 to get all this stuff.

Just then mom got my attention from the doorway. She was wearing a bikini and wanted my opinion. From my time as the family's fashion police, I guess she had gotten used to running her outfits by me for approval. It was by far the skimpiest thing I had ever seen her in, and I tried not to stare. The bottom was a little triangle of bright red fabric connected with strings. The two triangles of her top were similarly connected with string and made her chest look huge.

It turns out dad had bought it for her and always insisted she wear it when they were together. She hadn't worn it since he left, but it was the only one she owned. Her self-image was so crushed from years of abuse, first at the hands of dad and then her boss, she needed someone in her life who would build her up for once. At least she wasn't naked like Lucy had been. And she better not ask my opinion about getting a bikini wax! I drew the line at that.

Not wanting to discourage her, I gave two thumbs up and a helpful smile. She smiled back, then turned to head outside to lay out with Lucy. Her pasty white bottom definitely needed a base tan if she was going to take that bikini to Fiji.

They laid out the rest of the afternoon and caught what remaining sunshine they could. That evening, when they came in, they were both sporting the beginning hints of a base tan. Lucy had some pink, mostly on her cheeks and shoulders. Mom also had a light pink hue, but only on the parts of her that never saw the sun. They were both showing so much skin that I doubled the number of sunscreen bottles on my shopping list.

Before bed, I caught up to Lucy in the upstairs bathroom getting ready to take a shower. She was holding up her bra strap and frowning into the mirror. She was upset that her bra had made an ugly tan line on her normally flawless skin. When I saw what was the matter, I had to laugh. But I told her not to worry, we had a shopping trip planned the next day and would get her a swimsuit that fits. She tittered with excitement at that news. That girl sure loved to spend money! Then I added something that brought her back to Earth.

"I think we're going to have lots of fun tomorrow. But don't forget, you're still in the middle of a dare," I reminded her, "so be ready. Something's going to happen, probably when you least expect it."

From her reaction, I could tell she had gotten distracted by the vacation and the excitement of a shopping trip. She had totally forgotten about the dreaded dare hanging over her head. She begged me for a pause, at least for a day, so she could focus on shopping. But I wasn't about to budge. I said maybe she would think it through and learn to hold her tongue before blurting stuff out next time.

Then she begged me to at least give her a hint about what the dare would be. So, to get her off my back, I said I would be choosing her outfit for the shopping trip. That's all I would say. As I pulled the bathroom door closed behind me, I saw her eyes fluttering into the mirror and knew my ploy had worked. In truth, my dare schemes were nothing more than tentative ideas. But I was wiped out from all the day's excitement. I went on to bed hoping a good night's sleep would help me come up with something better in the morning.

Since she no longer had work and we weren't learning anything anyway, mom checked us out of school before noon the next day. It was an important shopping day. We were due to leave in four days and hadn't bought anything for our trip yet. There was no time to waste.

When I got home from school, I went straight to the kitchen table to prepare for the trip. I noticed the envelope suspiciously laying open on top of the pile, not where I had left it. But there was still money inside, so I didn't think it worth worrying mom about. Even after several days off from work, she still looked to be carrying a lot of stress and worry around with her and jumped whenever the phone rang thinking it was Benny calling her back into work.

I counted out some money as well as the official checklist, then turned my attention to another pressing matter, Lucy's shopping outfit.

She was standing at attention with a hopeful smile on her face when I came to her room. She had taken off her school clothes and was wearing a modest and sensible underwear set. On her bed she had laid out a spring dress, something that could easily be slipped on and off repeatedly in changing rooms, in the hopes I would just let her wear that. It was all very cute and wholesome. I hated it.

I frowned and shook my head. Popping the balloon of hope she had inflated, I told her to take it all off and then I headed into her closet to pick out something else. She watched nervously as I pulled out various outfits, holding them up to her naked body in contemplation. She was like my own personal dress-up doll. But I wasn't here to be her fashion consultant. The name of the game was embarrassment. I could tell by her reaction which outfits showed a little too much skin. After that, I made it a personal challenge to see how big a rise I could get out of her.

I quickly discovered that the front of her closet contained her newest and trendiest clothes; the ones she wore most often and that fit her the best. So of course, I was more interested in the ones further back. I was like an archeologist traveling back in time, finding smaller and smaller outfits the deeper I dug into her closet. She blanched each time I returned carrying things she had stopped wearing long ago when she was much younger, and her body had not yet started to mature.

Finally, at the very back, I hit the jackpot. Her face went pale when I emerged triumphantly holding a tiny pair of shorts and a crop top. The crop top was the lone remaining piece of a long-gone outfit. She had thrown it in the back of her closet and forgotten it. The shorts were made of the same material as her purple P.E. shorts, only smaller and dark blue.

She begged and pleaded with me not to make her go shopping in that outfit. Besides, it didn't fit her anymore, she argued. I made her try it on to see if that was true. The shorts were of a simple design with no pockets or flourishes. Even though it was several sizes too small for her now, the athletic cotton fabric did stretch greatly and she was able to pull it up her shapely legs. Unfortunately, she was proved right when she got to her hips. The elastic waistband was thicker and had more substance than the rest. By now, it was stretched to its limit, and she couldn't get it to go up any further. She no longer had the hips or bottom of a child.

Despite the setback, I was not ready concede yet. I told her to try on the top while I reevaluated the shorts. They had fit her everywhere but the waist. The real problem was that thick waistband. Knowing she would never wear them again; I didn't feel bad about attempting an alteration. I grabbed a pair of scissors from her desk and cut off the waistband completely. I tried to be careful, to make the cut look even all the way around. But the resulting hem was pretty ragged.

Lucy saw I was doing something and came over to investigate. She had put on the crop top. I could immediately tell it too was meant for a younger girl. Even then, being a looser article to begin with, it did fit over her head and onto her more mature frame. The most noticeable divergence was how much the fabric had to stretch over her swelling breasts. It was originally designed to come down to the middle of a girl's stomach. But Lucy's growing chest caused the hem to be pulled up much higher. In fact, the bottom hem barely reached past her boobs.

The top was originally yellow with green trim but the yellow was paler now and faded almost white from so many wash cycles. Since she wasn't wearing a bra, the outline of her pink nipples was clearly visible through the threadbare material and pushed the fabric out slightly in front.

She tried to negotiate with me once again, appealing however she could imagine. She argued she wouldn't be able to try on outfits dressed like this! It wouldn't be convenient! Besides, it didn’t even match! She was right about that. The pieces were never intended to be worn together. Even I knew not to mix blue, green, and yellow in the same outfit! What to do?

Now drunk with power, I held the blue shorts and paused to take in the sight of my dress-up doll standing in the briefest crop top imaginable, completely naked from the bottom of her tits to the tips of her toes. The yellow and blue actually did go together all right. It was really only the green trim of her top that was messing everything up. I could fix that!

I ordered her to take off her top and give it to me. When she hesitated, I told her she was only making things worse by stalling. She better start cooperating and get in the habit of following requests immediately and without question if she wanted any chance to receive leniency from me throughout the day. That threat kicked her into gear, and she whipped her top off without delay and handed it over.

We traded pieces. I went to work on her crop top while she tried on the newly altered shorts. I was pleased to see she could now stretch the material further and got it over her hips. It hugged the contours of her body nicely and was able to stay up even without a waistband! But sadly, it no longer reached her waist. The ragged line on top ran around her pelvis about an inch above her privates. In back, she tugged and wrestled with it until her entire butt crack was covered, but as soon as she let go and started walking, it slipped and found its equilibrium much lower with about a third of her bottom hanging out.

Meanwhile, using the same scissors as before, I worked on altering her top. I carefully cut out all evidence of green trim, widening the neck and removing an inch of green off the bottom which shortened the overall length. When there was no green left, I handed it back to her to try on. The blue and yellow complemented her blonde hair and blue eyes nicely. And I was proud to find the ragged hem on both articles actually tied everything together into a cohesive look. A happy accident!

There was one minor problem, though. The top was much shorter now. Even standing still, I could see the bottom curves of her breasts hanging out. And whenever she raised a hand to brush a loose hair strand out of her face or scratch her nose, one or both of her nipples peeked out. I started to have second thoughts. As much fun as it would have been to force her to keep her arms down all day or risk flashing her cute little nipples to fellow shoppers, I worried that maybe this blatant exposure was going too far.

Just then mom called from downstairs that it was time to leave. There wasn't enough time to pick out another daring outfit for Lucy, but I didn't want to let her off the hook and wear something normal either. She saw me wavering and stood with a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but didn't dare say anything for risk of provoking my wrath. I wracked my brain for a solution, silently berating myself for foolishly thinking I could get through the dare without planning ahead. I had stupidly overestimated my ability to improvise.

I tried to think back to what had worked well in the past; use the tools available to me. Heat, pressure, time. On edge and off balance. I was drawing a blank. I was about to give up and let her change back into something normal when, unable to keep her big mouth shut, she offered me a last second plea deal.

"I promise, Mikey. I'll do whatever you say today immediately. Just please let me at least wear underwear to start out!"

Of course! It was just like the history presentation! She had been able to endure it because she started out with the most important places on her body covered and was only gradually exposed. And she was willingly allowing herself to be put in the same predicament today. If I would only grant her this small concession to get things started.

"No hesitating, no arguing, and no questions asked?" I challenged her.

"Yes, I promise," she swore, "I'll do anything. No hesitating, no arguing, and no questions asked."

I could work with that!

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 11 - Severance Package (Part 4)

We set out for the city of Westfield about an hour away. It was bigger than our town with a greater variety of stores. While Lucy had big plans, particularly when it came to clothing purchases, I kept the official checklist and was in charge of the money. I kept it in a zippered pencil pouch scavenged from Lucy's backpack and intended to only dole out the cash as I deemed necessary.

I had brought $2,500 total just in case, intending to only spend $1,000. Just the basics. It was far more than I had ever carried in my life. I will tell you how badly I squandered it that day. But please don't judge me. After all, I was only 14! I had no experience managing money!

I clutched it in sweaty hands as we drove, worried someone would see us flashing it around and try to steal it. It didn't even occur to me to worry if the money was somehow dirty. We could have totally gotten arrested for trying to buy stuff with counterfeit or marked bills. That we were shopping for supplies to flee the country would have made us look even more suspicious. But the money was gladly accepted everywhere we chose to spend it.

Mom had questioned Lucy's choice of outfit when she arrived at the car. Even with her modest bra and panty set worn underneath, it was still a rather salacious choice for a casual shopping day. Her white panties showed all the way around the waistband of her shorts and her bra cups partially hung out the bottom of her shirt. But Lucy insisted it was fine. Mom bought her flimsy excuse that she couldn't find anything clean to wear and had just thrown this on. We were clothes shopping after all, weren't we? As soon as she found a nice outfit she liked, she would trade it out for these disposable rags and wear it out of the store and the rest of the day. To complete her outfit, she wore white closed toe slipper flats that she could get on and off easily. Her hair was down and held back from her face by a simple hairband.

My primary target destination was Westfield's big mall, a one-stop shop for all your vacation supply needs. But on the way, mom made a request. She asked if she could check on getting a massage while we were in town to help her decompress. How could I refuse? She is the one who had gone through the stress of earning the severance package in the first place. She deserved to be pampered a little.

So, our first stop ended up being a massage parlor in the nicer part of town to see if they had any appointments free today. She was in luck. They had an immediate opening. I peeled off $200 for the massage plus tip then Lucy and I, with an hour or so to kill, walked over to the nearby luxury shopping district. I didn't plan to spend any money there, just kill some time and let Lucy get a few ideas on the latest fashion.

Her eyes sparkled at every window display we passed. It made me glad I had control over the expenditures instead of mom. Otherwise, we would be broke by dinner time. As we shopped, I looked for an opportunity to test her vow of total compliance. The opportunity came inside a cute little swimwear boutique. I had noticed the lone salesman up front eyeing Lucy up and down, trying to undress her with his eyes and decided to give him the thrill of a lifetime!

She had picked out a cute one-piece and gone into the dressing area, a series of curtained stalls down a short hall at the back of the store. I gave her just enough time to get undressed then barged in. She was naked and fiddling with the swimsuit, about to step into it. She jumped and covered herself with her hands then growled her disapproval at my uninvited intrusion.

"Hey Lucy, remember that question you asked me about getting a bikini wax? Go ask the salesman up front the same question. You know, just to get a second opinion."

She looked justifiably befuddled at the strange request and didn't really acknowledge it. Working in a swimsuit boutique did not make him an expert on bikini waxes. Besides, why did she need a second opinion? In her mind, the matter was already settled. She shook off my request and started to step into her swimsuit when I interrupted again.

"Right now!" I said, a little more forcefully this time.

She paused then finally looked up and asked, "what?"

"You promised, no hesitating, no arguing, and no questions asked," I said with a wrathful edge in my voice. "That was a question, and this is your last warning. Now, stop hesitating, leave the swimsuit, and GO!"

She immediately dropped the suit and it fell into a puddle at her feet. Her face twisted into a mix of fear and humiliation as the realization of her impending task dawned on her. But she forced her feet to step out of the suit puddle and carry her naked body beyond the changing stall and down the hall.

The boutique was empty, maybe rich people don't shop for swimwear on Wednesday afternoons, and it wasn't cold at all. But Lucy still shivered when she exited the changing area and entered the greater store area. She looked all around but kept her feet moving, every stride bringing her one step closer to her impending total exposure at the hands of the lucky salesman.

I branched off and found a place where I could watch it play out without being seen. She rounded the last display and was now standing in the open checkout area in clear sight of the windowed storefront. The salesman noticed the naked girl at once and his eyebrows raised. She kept approaching with all the innocence she could muster knowing if she acted embarrassed, it would only make things worse. She was just a regular customer come to ask him a question with no clothes on.

"Excuse me, mister," she began when she was within conversational range. Then, after a deep breath, she blurted out her question as quickly as she could in one big run-on sentence.

"My friend Alexandra says you have to get a bikini wax if you're going to wear a swimsuit at our age - She says it's the best way to keep your hair from poking out down there - Only, I don't see any hair - Alexandra said the wax really hurts and I don't want to get one if I don't need to - Do you think I need a bikini wax?"

It took him a few seconds to process her question. Then, to her great dismay, he smiled and waved her closer. He told her something, an instruction. It was too soft for me to make out, but I saw a blush form on her cheeks. She had no choice but to continue her naive act; thrusting her pelvis out for his thorough inspection as if this was a service he regularly performed for his female patrons.

While he grazed his hand over her naked mound, he asked her some questions that I couldn't hear. Then he must have said he needed to check if she had hair anywhere else on her body, because she lifted her arms above her head to let him inspect her armpits. One of his hands remained occupied with her pussy, but the other reached up to confirm they were completely smooth. When he dropped that hand, he intentionally let it slide down over her breast.

Then he had her turn in place to make sure everything else was in order and declared her entire body to be exceptionally and completely bald; no bikini wax needed! She acted relieved at the news, then thanked him and retreated in a little jog, her blonde hair bouncing behind her in time with her cute little bottom.

When I got back to the changing area, she glared at me angrily. But I knew it was all an act. Her body betrayed her true feelings about the encounter. Her nipples were poking out and a glistening sheen of moisture was beginning to form between her legs. Heat and Pressure. I glared right back at her, though, sending a message that I wasn't messing around. She would pay with more humiliation if she dared to defy me next time I gave her an instruction.

Having completed my little test, I let her relax and get back to shopping after that. I was happy to wait until we got to the mall to give her more challenges. There would be a lot more people, and a lot of kids her age too with school letting out soon. I even let her buy something at one of the fancy stores. It was an overpriced designer "travel" purse for $129. It was completely unnecessary, but I let her get it anyway. No need to be a total grinch. I would find a way to squeeze it out of the budget.

After that, we met up with mom to go to the mall. She looked more relaxed after her massage. Since she was really just here to be our transportation, I suggested she drop us off and go get pampered some more. She had mentioned something about a pedicure and haircut. When we arrived, I peeled off a few more hundreds, which she happily took, and told her to pick us up a few hours later at 5:00. It was nice to see her smile for a change. But my real motive was to keep her occupied and out of the way so I could focus on ramping up Lucy's humiliation at the mall. I was finally starting to get into it and my creative juices were flowing.

This was going to be fun!

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 11 - Severance Package (Part 5)

Every head turned as Lucy entered the mall. Every..single..one. She had been turning heads for years and had to be used to it by now, but this was different. The two-story Westfield mall was laid out traditionally in a giant "X" shape except with an elongated middle which had a food court jutting out from it. She tried to keep her head up and walk normally down the 30-foot-wide corridor that separated the stores, but her tiny outfit and the amount of skin she was flashing obviously bothered her.

Her underwear did technically hide her privates from view, but that was part of the problem. There wasn't enough outerwear to hide her underwear. She kept giving into the temptation to tug on her shorts, a mere temporary reprieve from flashing her girlish panties. But there was no fix for her extremely short crop top. From the top of her panties to the bottom of her bra-encased boobs, her entire hourglass torso and trim tummy was hopelessly exposed. And whenever she let go of her shorts, within a few steps, they settled back down to flash her pretty white undies to the whole world once again.

So far, I didn't even need to do anything to increase the pressure. Her current state of exposure in such a public place seemed to be working wonders. She was holding up, but barely. But she was on thin ice with me. I was still mad that she had broken her vow back at the swimsuit boutique to follow all my orders. It was about time for another test. One more slip-up like that, and she would really feel my wrath.

The eyes of every person we passed tracked hungrily up and down her gorgeous, scantily clad body. Eventually, all that unwanted attention became too much for her and she turned to me for help. Her confidence faltered and, pulling her shorts up for the hundredth time, she wrapped her arms defensively around her in a futile gesture.

"Mikeeey," she whined, "help me! They're all staring at my panties!"

Ya think? I watched in amusement as the white waistband slowly slid back into view to the delight of everyone around us.

"You want people to stop staring at your panties? Fine, come with me." I answered then set out with determination at a more rapid pace. I knew the mall layout pretty well and had studied the map when we first entered. But I didn't need a map to find my intended destination. Every boy in every mall in America intrinsically knows where the Victoria's Secret is located. I stopped at the entrance and let her catch up.

I gave her a hundred-dollar bill along with my instructions. "Since you don't like everyone staring at your panties, you get to pick out a new pair that doesn’t poke out your shorts. I'll give you five minutes."

She blinked in surprise then her face went white. Only the tiniest, briefest pair of panties would be small enough not to peek out above those shorts! After all, it had no waistband!

"No, Mikey, please!" she begged, "I thought you were taking me to buy a different outfit. Can't we go somewhere else?"

I got legitimately angry this time and didn't have to act it. "You never learn, do you? No hesitating, no arguing, and no questions asked. That's what you promised. And now you're doing all three at once!" I grabbed her by the hand and dragged her into the store like the petulant child she was, not caring if we were making a scene. The people loitering outside and in the corridor already knew full well that Lucy was having wardrobe issues. Perhaps they would assume the commotion was related to that.

Trying to ignore the underclothed mannequins all around us, I led her to the back and pointed toward the changing rooms. "Go in there and take off your panties." Then I grabbed a random pair off a nearby shelf and held it hooked over my finger with my arm outstretched to demonstrate. "Bring them to me like this. I'll be waiting at the Cinnabon. Once you have given me your panties, you can have four minutes to find a new pair. If you haven't picked out something in four minutes, you can go the rest of the day without. Now GO...and no more tugging at your shorts. It's unladylike."

I guess my outburst startled her into obedience. With her eyes fluttering, she immediately turned and headed into a changing stall. I left the store then ordered a drink and a roll at the Cinnabon directly across the corridor and grabbed one of the three rickety patio chairs reserved for paying customers. No reason not to enjoy a snack while I waited. After all, I was a growing boy. Soon, the same people who had seen Lucy dragged into the store two minutes earlier got to see her walk out on her own volition. The chaste white fabric that had formerly encircled her waist was now hanging from her outstretched fingertips.

Blushing profusely and ignoring the pointing and whispers around her, she walked across the corridor and gifted me her age-appropriate panties, then turned and went back inside to search for something much more suggestive and mature. Everyone gaped at the top third of her bare bottom now exposed by her apparently voluntary decision to temporarily go commando.

Still seething, I marked the time on my watch. If she wasn't back in four minutes, I vowed to drag her out of there, if necessary! But my heart softened as the minutes ticked by. When time was up, I even decided to give her a grace period in case she had gotten delayed waiting in the checkout line. Some of the onlookers left, but I noticed lots, mostly boys and men, lingering to see what that gorgeous young lady, in skimpy attire and no panties, was up to.

About a minute later, she did emerge, sporting a nice blush and a brand-new pair of grown-up panties. She had found a pair in a shade of dark blue to match her shorts. They must have been incredibly skimpy, because there was no sign of them at all on her lower abdomen in front, only flawless Lucy flesh curving down almost to where I knew the cleft of her pussy began. But two delicate lace straps emerged on each side and wrapped around her waist to meet in the back. The back was nothing more than blue lace that joined together and ran straight down her butt crack to disappear into her shorts. You could even still see her crack through the dark lace if you looked closely enough.

I'm sure it was the first time in her life to be wearing a sexy pair of panties. Her normal ones were purely utilitarian. Of course, on her everything looked sexy. Still, I was a little surprised that she had picked out something with so much lace and so little, well, panty. Maybe it had been the best she could come up with in only four minutes.

Now forbidden from adjusting her shorts, her efforts had been redirected to protecting her modesty up top. She kept her arms folded high and tight on her chest, to at least block the underside of her bra cups peeking out below her top. And she kept tugging at the hem of her shirt as if the act would somehow produce more of the terribly insufficient material. Speaking of bras, a thought occurred to me just then and I had to ask her. Weren't bras and panties supposed to be a matched set?

She treaded carefully with her answer, checking to make sure it didn't break any of my rules. "Nnno....they...don't usually match. They can be any color."

"Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully. Then I held up her old white panties as if to remind myself what they looked like. My real reason was to remind her and the onlookers how she had very recently taken them off and brought them to me while I sat there. "I could have sworn you were wearing a matched set this morning. Show me your bra."

As much as she hated it, she knew better than to argue or hesitate this time. She quickly unfolded her arms and, with her face burning, lifted her shirt and held it high to give me, and the now very engaged crowd of boys and men, a better look at her bra. It wasn't every day they got to see a gorgeous blonde lifting her shirt to show off her bra-encased chest, even a small one, in the middle of the mall, and Lucy's humiliating display drew plenty of attention.

Almost comically, I looked back and forth between the bra on her chest and her panties in my hand. "Yeah, I knew it! They do match!" I said triumphantly. "You can't trick me."

"I'm not tricking you, " she promised, “they don't always have to match." then she leaned in and quietly added, "can I put my shirt back down now? People...are...staring!"

I whispered back, "That depends. Have you learned your lesson yet?"

She nodded heartily, her big blue eyes full of sincerity and just a hint of desperation. I probably should have left it at that and let her move on, but my hormones got the better of me just then. I couldn't stop wondering about that delicate blue lace around her waist and between her legs. Did they really make a matching blue bra out of that same see-through material? I had to know.

"Ok, you can lower your shirt," I said. With great relief she quickly dropped her shirt to stop flashing her bra cups to the world. Her arms went right back into a crossed position below her chest. But her relief soon turned to anguish when she saw me pulling another $100 bill out of the money pouch. I motioned her closer then whispered my next orders in her ear.

"I'm glad to see you learning to obey. But I still think you will look better in a matching set," I said with a wink. "Go back to a changing room and take off your bra. Bring it to me on your finger, then go buy the one that matches your panties. If you're quick enough, I won't make you model it for everyone out here...now GO!"

She jerked up in surprise, her eyes fluttering. Grabbing the $100 and staring at the tile to avoid eye contact with her adoring fans, she rushed back into the lingerie store.