I suppose, if the vote ends in a tie, I will have no choice but to post both stories...Cicero wrote: ↑Wed Nov 09, 2022 10:22 pm Sooo torn about this poll. I go crazy for a good skinny dipping ENF story, but a Halloween party in this storyline sounds dazzling.
If I were to vote for the Lost Bikini, is it possible the Halloween party could be the next (or a future) chapter? It sounds like a bigger a milestone to me, and so something which could sensibly be placed after the lost bikini story.
In short: porqué no los dos?
Dare Me (new 7/29)
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Re: Dare Me (new chapter 11/4)
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Dare Me - Chapter 8 - Heat, Pressure, Time
Dare Me - Chapter 8 - Heat, Pressure, Time
Lucy wore her new designer dress everywhere, including to school, and got tons of compliments. It was her favorite, and she kept wearing it even after she outgrew it. It still fit her in the middle where here figure was so small, but it looked shorter each time she wore it as her torso continued to lengthen. One day, she came down in it and I had to break the bad news to her.
Wearing a bra with that dress never had been possible because of the halter style top. But she was able to get away with it while her little pokey boobies were still immature and could hide safely within the pleats. But she had experienced recent swelling in that area too. I told her I could see the outline of her nipples too clearly for school. Not to mention, just standing there, her panties were peeking out underneath the now too short hem. I thought she would probably get sent home if she wore that dress to school anymore. She was sad but thanked me for looking out for her and went back upstairs to change.
She seemed to really be enjoying sixth grade. Her favorite classes were History and P.E. There was also an auxiliary period that rotated the minor subjects each day which she liked. She showed a particular affinity for Art and was getting pretty good at drawing. That came as no real surprise. Every girl liked drawing and painting.
History was more of a head-scratcher. What girl liked learning about dusty, old wars? But it all made sense when you factored in who her teacher was. Mr. Clark was handsome, young, and incredibly cute. Around that age, girls were starting to have feelings about the opposite sex. But the boys their age tended to repulse them. Throw them in a room with an attractive dreamboat teacher, and it was the perfect recipe for puppy love. Every girl in my class last year had had a crush on Mr. Clark and Lucy was no exception. He was the sole reason why there were so many young female history buffs in that school.
There wasn't much to say about my junior high school experience. Classes were boring and harder, and the girls ignored me. But I did grow a few inches taller and thought I might have a chance at making the basketball team in the spring.
Things went along smoothly until November rolled around. Lucy had a falling-out with her best friends and sank into a funk. After that, she once again retreated into her winter cocoon and didn't emerge again until spring. Mom, too, had a rough winter at work. Her boss treated her more and more severely, giving her the worst, most menial tasks and demeaning her at every opportunity.
The only notable milestone, I guess, was that Lucy started her period. Having finally attended sex-ed class the end of my first semester, I had a better understanding of what that meant. It was different than a boy going through puberty in a lot of ways. But in some ways, it was very similar. I knew from personal experience that everything going forward would be more vivid for her than when she had just been a child.
I wondered how that would affect her feelings toward risky behavior. Would she start to feel more self-conscious about protecting her growing body? Were her daring days behind her, or would the added hormones only amplify her need for excitement? Time would tell. If she started feeling those temptations again and needed my help scratching that itch, she would find me.
All the long winter, she hibernated in bulky attire. I never saw her in less than a sweatshirt and jeans, or lounge pants. And she carried a fuzzy blanket from room to room that she kept wrapped around herself. She let her hair grow out until it came at least down to her waist in back. When she stopped accepting invitations to play-dates and birthday parties, I started to worry that maybe she was depressed. But as the frozen land inevitably turned to spring, her frosty stupor began to thaw with it. I guess she was just not much of a winter person. She never did much like being cold.
I was sitting at the desk in my room one brisk spring afternoon in March. It was Sunday and I had math homework due the next day. Algebra and I just didn't get along. Lucy poked her head into the room and said she was going for a run. Mom had been called in to work again and that left me in charge. What kind of jerk boss calls their employee in to work on a Sunday evening? Anyway, I guess Lucy was courteously letting me know where she would be.
Just the week before, she had announced she was joining the run club at school. There was no track or cross-country team for elementary schools. But this club was meant to help interested kids get in shape and ready for the junior high teams. The club was organized by the P.E. teacher, who preferred everyone call him "Coach" even though he didn't coach anything to my knowledge. Run club primarily met after school and jogged around the playground track. But I guess part of being in the club was that you ran a little every day on your own to build up endurance.
I looked up from my homework to acknowledge her and did a double take. She didn't own running clothes and was wearing her P.E. outfit to run in. It had been months since I last saw her in shorts and her legs were soooo long.
The outfit was several years old and starting to get a little small. No, upon further review, this outfit had been purchased for a little girl and the almost teenager wearing it now had outgrown it all over. But it wasn’t worth buying a whole ‘nother outfit just for a couple more months when she would be done with elementary school P.E. for good.
The tee shirt was gray and had "Jenkins" ironed in blocky white letters across the back. It barely reached her waist, and the sleeves were too short. The athletic shorts were purple and made from plain cotton with no pockets. The outfit wasn't designed to be sexy in any way, but the designer must not have planned on Lucy wearing it.
Her bottom had ripened further in secret over the winter and filled every inch of the shorts completely, pulling them up to show off every inch of her long, contoured legs. Her top had also swelled in secret. It was a good thing mom had started buying her real bras, because those boobs sure didn't look like they needed training anymore. She finished off the look with ankle socks and sneakers.
I had been so surprised by this young lady's sudden appearance that, after she left, I ran to the window to get another look. She took off jogging down the road, her long hair in a simple ponytail swishing back and forth as she ran. She ran comfortably, like she was built for it. Her hips rotated and her bottom bounced in time with each stride. It was probably a little too early in the season and more chilly than a casual runner would prefer. But knowing Lucy, she wouldn't let a little thing like that stop her from something she was determined to do.
After that day, I gradually saw signs of the old Lucy I knew returning. She smiled more and took to wearing less bulky clothes around the house. She started cracking jokes about me again, which was nice to hear, even if a little annoying. She continued jogging daily and would talk excitedly about a school-wide drawing contest happening later in the year that she thought she could win. She had a real talent for making life-like images. I didn't know about the other contestants, but from the looks of her drawings, I wouldn't bet against her.
It turns out another trait of the old Lucy also returned around that time: the urge for excitement. Dad's risk-taking genes were strong in her and she once again turned to me to scratch that itch. One Saturday morning in March she came into my room way too early and woke me up.
"Mikey" someone whispered. I woke and cracked my eyes. It was still dark outside even with the days getting longer. So, it must have been super early.
"Mikey" the voice said again, just as quiet but I recognized it as my sister's.
"Go back to sleep" I muttered at her, pulling the sheet over my head. But she wouldn't be denied.
"I can't sleep" she replied a little louder, as if that somehow gave her the right to disturb my own. I ignored her, but she didn't leave. Instead, I could hear her pacing anxiously. Right when I was about to drift off, she spoke again.
"Dare me, Mikey"
That sure woke me up. I hadn't heard those words in months. I can't say I never expected to hear them from her again. But this was totally out of the blue with no context whatsoever. It wasn't a special occasion. We weren't with a babysitter. There was no catalyst for her request. And it was the middle of the damn night.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, still quite disoriented. She was standing in the middle of my room, little more than an outline in the dark. The pajamas she had worn to bed that evening struck a recognizable silhouette. It was a comfortable tank top with oversized holes around the arms and neck, and shorts covered in ruffles all over. It was nothing a young lady would want to be seen out and about in, but not indecent for lounging around the house.
She rudely flipped the switch on the wall, and I groaned as light assaulted my eyes. Now I was mad. But she didn't seem to care. She asked me again. This time I detected a strange but familiar edge in her voice.
"Dare me, Mikeeeeey......please?"
When I didn't react, she stomped her foot and started to whine out another "Mikeeeeeee" before I cut her off. God, she could still be an annoying little brat when she wanted to. In the light I could see more than just her outline. The pajamas were bright, assaulting 90’s colors. But beneath her shirt, she wore one of her cute new bras. It was a real one, not a training bra, white with pale pink trim. Even some of the intricate detail on the little cups encasing the growing orbs on her chest were visible through the comically large holes in her tank top.
The waistband of her shorts had elastic, but it was not very strong and sagged slightly under the weight of all those ruffles. The shorts were at least a size too big and would have fit better on a grown woman’s hips. On her it sank so low that the entire waistband of her pink panties was showing. It was the same shade and material as her bra. She didn't seem to care in the least that her big brother could tell she was wearing a matching lingerie set beneath her pajamas. She seemed much more concerned with finding out if I was going to help her or not.
"OK, Goosey. Um....." I said, stalling for time. She swayed back and forth, her whole body tensed in anticipation, while I tried to come up with something for her to do. But I wasn't exactly in the right mindset to construct an elaborate and creative dare. At that moment, more than anything, I just wanted her off my back so I could sleep a little while longer. "...um, ok, go get your running shoes and come back here."
She took off like a shot and came back carrying her sneakers and a pair of ankle socks. I had been expecting to use that to buy me some time, but she was too quick. That's when I, Michael Jenkins - creative mastermind extraordinaire, dared my sister to go jogging in her pajamas. Give me a break! I was still half asleep!
"That it?!" she complained, understandably, when she heard the dare. "That's stupid!"
I couldn’t disagree. I had aimed too low with that one. Still, she didn't have to call me "stupid". Eyeing my pillow, I threw in a few more twists just to round it out. With a yawn, I added, "Also, you have to take off your bra first. And... you have to keep running around the neighborhood at least until the sun comes up."
I relaxed when I saw Lucy's eyes flutter, even if somewhat unenthusiastically. I closed my eyes and lay down on my pillow. I made her turn off the lights expecting her to leave immediately and let me sleep. But she took her time. First, I heard her putting her socks and shoes on, then the sound of what must have been her removing her bra. Even then, she stuck around a while longer, doing who knows what and making just enough noise to bother me. Finally, mercifully she left, and the peace and quiet allowed me to fall back asleep.
I’d like to tell you all about what happened to Lucy on that jog. How she had to keep running all over the neighborhood in her pajamas until sun-up. Did she hold her shorts up while she ran or let them sag down and risk someone seeing her pink panties? Maybe she encountered some pervy old neighbor out walking his dog and he got a good peek down her shirt. I'd tell you if I could, but I admit I have no idea. She didn't say anything about the run, and I didn't ask. I slept soundly and didn't wake up until it was all over. Win-win, right? Only, it wasn't over. because the next day, she woke me up again.
It was Sunday morning, once again well before sun-up. I was sleeping so soundly and having the nicest dream. It was a recurring one of mine about one of Lucy's classmates. In the dream, she visited me in my bed, and we made out and... did a bunch of private stuff that I learned about in sex-ed.
Lucy might have tried to wake me up that morning with a gentle whisper, but if she did, it didn't work. So, she quickly moved to plan "B". She sat forcefully down on my bed. An earthquake invaded my dream, and I woke with a jarring start. At first, I thought it was Lucy's friend come to visit me in real life. Then I realized it was just Lucy and I was pissed.
"Goosey! You woke me up! Go away!" I snarled and tried to roll over. She wasn't having it.
"Mikeeeey, please. Dare me!" When I didn't respond, she bounced on the bed in a little tantrum, acting every bit like a spoiled 5-year-old and not someone who was only half a year away from officially being a teenager. She repeated her plea.
"Dare me, Mikey.....Mikeeeeeeey. Dare Me!"
Hopes of returning to my erotic dream slipped away as this little child continued to bounce annoyingly on the bed. I relented and told her to get her shoes again. I was a little more prepared this time when she returned and covered my eyes before she once again flooded the room with light. But I was not prepared for what I saw when I peeked out. She was wearing a nightgown. Mom had stopped buying her nightgowns long ago. But she must have had some old ones floating around the back of her closet.
I was about to give her the same dare as last night, but she wasn't wearing a bra this time, so I had to pick on something else. Her panties were an obvious choice. It was a little more risky than last night. The childish gown was way too small for her tween frame and from my low angle on the bed, I could clearly see her panties peeking out beneath the hem. And that was her standing still with her arms at her side. Once she started jogging, there was no way that gown alone would be able to keep her privates covered.
Her eyes fluttered weakly when I dared her to go jogging in her nightgown with no panties on. Just like last time, she flipped the lights off, then went about her business of getting ready. But this time, I stayed awake and watched. There was enough moonlight coming in that I could tell when she pulled her panties off and stepped out of them. Then she bent over at the waist and put on her socks and shoes. Even in the dark, I could see the hem of her nightgown rise leaving her bare bottom sticking up in the air while she was bent over.
She got her shoes on and started doing some stretches. That made sense. A runner wasn't supposed to go out on a jog without warming up first. She performed various maneuvers, bending at the waist and touching her toes, then pulling one foot up at a time to stretch out her leg muscles. Whenever she raised her arms high above her head, the nightgown pulled up all the way to her waist. I swear I could see the outline of her nude pussy lips as she stretched, even in the dark. Well, maybe it was my imagination.
Once she was sufficiently warmed up, she left, rudely leaving her panties behind on my floor. I closed my eyes, frustrated to have two nights in a row ruined. But I couldn't fall asleep, so I eventually gave up and went down to have a super early breakfast. I ate a bowl of cereal then sulked tiredly. She returned after sun-up looking equally sour. I was surprised to see her enter the kitchen and start making her own bowl of cereal. It didn't fit her pattern. Usually after a dare, she was eager to go straight to her room for some private time. But she just sat there eating in her incredibly short nightgown and running shoes and glaring at me.
I said something to her, just small talk, but she snapped at me. Eventually, she left to take a shower. The snapping didn't stop there and continued all day. By that afternoon, I was snapping back at her. I didn't know what got into me, but she was just being so mean. I decided everyone was allowed to have a bad day now and then and just resolved to avoid her for the rest of the day.
That evening, I was in my room trying to study for school the next day. I had an earth science test coming up, but I was so tired and had trouble concentrating. I figured if Lucy woke me up again tomorrow, no amount of preparation would help because I would sleep right through my test. So, while I studied, I also contemplated that problem.
I was at my wits end. Something was off with her, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with the dares. She had come to me with a familiar look on her face - that need to scratch an itch. But she had never kept coming back night after night like this. Something wasn't right. But what?
At a loss, I returned to my studies, trying to focus on the difference between magma and lava and how minerals were formed. What is the definition of plate tectonics? What are the necessary ingredients for diamonds, the hardest material on Earth? Heat, Pressure, and Time. Ingredients. Heat....Pressure....Time. Ingredients......
I stared absently at the page in my textbook about diamonds, distracted but also tired. A funny thought struck me. Heat, Pressure, Time. It almost kind of fit Lucy in a weird way. When she asked for a risky dare, it put her under a lot of pressure. And she always got turned on as a result. So, her own body's hormones supplied the heat. I suppose that would make the diamonds in this analogy what inevitably happened after the dare was over in the privacy of her room, heh. Only, the last two times...
Slowly a theory formed in my brain about what had been going wrong lately. What if the two recent jogging dares simply weren't daring enough to create the pressure she needed for diamonds to form? They were too boring and didn't cause her to produce any heat. She sure didn't look turned-on when I saw her at breakfast.
Maybe she needed me to figure out a way to give her bigger, ahem, diamonds. Obviously, more pressure would work. But that was the problem. My creative dare juices were tapped out. I seemed to do better when I was into it. But I couldn't get into it if she wasn't into it. Maybe if she didn't keep waking me up from a dead sleep expecting me to come up with something on the spot. Ugh! I almost despaired thinking I had hit another dead end.
I frantically looked back at the textbook, as if the answer was somewhere hidden on the page. Stupid, I know. But believe it or not, it did give me a notion to build on. Heat, Pressure, Time. The amounts didn't matter, the book said. Given enough time, even a moderately low amount of heat and pressure could make a diamond. I had already determined that I had no realistic way to increase the pressure. And her body supplied the heat. That just left time.
...or did it? I circled back to heat. What if my assumption that the jogging dares hadn't produced any heat was wrong? What if they did produce a little, but she was dissipating it all in between? That's it! That's the answer!
Lucy was a diamond factory. In the past, a single dare provided enough pressure all at once to create a big enough diamond to satiate her for a long time. But if my theory was correct, that wasn't the only way. I could apply less pressure over time and get the same result. Assuming she wasn't able to dissipate the heat in the process.
I went right to work planning. It helped knowing I didn't have to come up with an amazing dare in its complete form. I just had to get her started and keep her off balance and on edge. Then I could improvise. I was good at that. Her heat should keep building and given enough time; it should cause her to produce a spectacular diamond. This was going to be fun!
Lucy wore her new designer dress everywhere, including to school, and got tons of compliments. It was her favorite, and she kept wearing it even after she outgrew it. It still fit her in the middle where here figure was so small, but it looked shorter each time she wore it as her torso continued to lengthen. One day, she came down in it and I had to break the bad news to her.
Wearing a bra with that dress never had been possible because of the halter style top. But she was able to get away with it while her little pokey boobies were still immature and could hide safely within the pleats. But she had experienced recent swelling in that area too. I told her I could see the outline of her nipples too clearly for school. Not to mention, just standing there, her panties were peeking out underneath the now too short hem. I thought she would probably get sent home if she wore that dress to school anymore. She was sad but thanked me for looking out for her and went back upstairs to change.
She seemed to really be enjoying sixth grade. Her favorite classes were History and P.E. There was also an auxiliary period that rotated the minor subjects each day which she liked. She showed a particular affinity for Art and was getting pretty good at drawing. That came as no real surprise. Every girl liked drawing and painting.
History was more of a head-scratcher. What girl liked learning about dusty, old wars? But it all made sense when you factored in who her teacher was. Mr. Clark was handsome, young, and incredibly cute. Around that age, girls were starting to have feelings about the opposite sex. But the boys their age tended to repulse them. Throw them in a room with an attractive dreamboat teacher, and it was the perfect recipe for puppy love. Every girl in my class last year had had a crush on Mr. Clark and Lucy was no exception. He was the sole reason why there were so many young female history buffs in that school.
There wasn't much to say about my junior high school experience. Classes were boring and harder, and the girls ignored me. But I did grow a few inches taller and thought I might have a chance at making the basketball team in the spring.
Things went along smoothly until November rolled around. Lucy had a falling-out with her best friends and sank into a funk. After that, she once again retreated into her winter cocoon and didn't emerge again until spring. Mom, too, had a rough winter at work. Her boss treated her more and more severely, giving her the worst, most menial tasks and demeaning her at every opportunity.
The only notable milestone, I guess, was that Lucy started her period. Having finally attended sex-ed class the end of my first semester, I had a better understanding of what that meant. It was different than a boy going through puberty in a lot of ways. But in some ways, it was very similar. I knew from personal experience that everything going forward would be more vivid for her than when she had just been a child.
I wondered how that would affect her feelings toward risky behavior. Would she start to feel more self-conscious about protecting her growing body? Were her daring days behind her, or would the added hormones only amplify her need for excitement? Time would tell. If she started feeling those temptations again and needed my help scratching that itch, she would find me.
All the long winter, she hibernated in bulky attire. I never saw her in less than a sweatshirt and jeans, or lounge pants. And she carried a fuzzy blanket from room to room that she kept wrapped around herself. She let her hair grow out until it came at least down to her waist in back. When she stopped accepting invitations to play-dates and birthday parties, I started to worry that maybe she was depressed. But as the frozen land inevitably turned to spring, her frosty stupor began to thaw with it. I guess she was just not much of a winter person. She never did much like being cold.
I was sitting at the desk in my room one brisk spring afternoon in March. It was Sunday and I had math homework due the next day. Algebra and I just didn't get along. Lucy poked her head into the room and said she was going for a run. Mom had been called in to work again and that left me in charge. What kind of jerk boss calls their employee in to work on a Sunday evening? Anyway, I guess Lucy was courteously letting me know where she would be.
Just the week before, she had announced she was joining the run club at school. There was no track or cross-country team for elementary schools. But this club was meant to help interested kids get in shape and ready for the junior high teams. The club was organized by the P.E. teacher, who preferred everyone call him "Coach" even though he didn't coach anything to my knowledge. Run club primarily met after school and jogged around the playground track. But I guess part of being in the club was that you ran a little every day on your own to build up endurance.
I looked up from my homework to acknowledge her and did a double take. She didn't own running clothes and was wearing her P.E. outfit to run in. It had been months since I last saw her in shorts and her legs were soooo long.
The outfit was several years old and starting to get a little small. No, upon further review, this outfit had been purchased for a little girl and the almost teenager wearing it now had outgrown it all over. But it wasn’t worth buying a whole ‘nother outfit just for a couple more months when she would be done with elementary school P.E. for good.
The tee shirt was gray and had "Jenkins" ironed in blocky white letters across the back. It barely reached her waist, and the sleeves were too short. The athletic shorts were purple and made from plain cotton with no pockets. The outfit wasn't designed to be sexy in any way, but the designer must not have planned on Lucy wearing it.
Her bottom had ripened further in secret over the winter and filled every inch of the shorts completely, pulling them up to show off every inch of her long, contoured legs. Her top had also swelled in secret. It was a good thing mom had started buying her real bras, because those boobs sure didn't look like they needed training anymore. She finished off the look with ankle socks and sneakers.
I had been so surprised by this young lady's sudden appearance that, after she left, I ran to the window to get another look. She took off jogging down the road, her long hair in a simple ponytail swishing back and forth as she ran. She ran comfortably, like she was built for it. Her hips rotated and her bottom bounced in time with each stride. It was probably a little too early in the season and more chilly than a casual runner would prefer. But knowing Lucy, she wouldn't let a little thing like that stop her from something she was determined to do.
After that day, I gradually saw signs of the old Lucy I knew returning. She smiled more and took to wearing less bulky clothes around the house. She started cracking jokes about me again, which was nice to hear, even if a little annoying. She continued jogging daily and would talk excitedly about a school-wide drawing contest happening later in the year that she thought she could win. She had a real talent for making life-like images. I didn't know about the other contestants, but from the looks of her drawings, I wouldn't bet against her.
It turns out another trait of the old Lucy also returned around that time: the urge for excitement. Dad's risk-taking genes were strong in her and she once again turned to me to scratch that itch. One Saturday morning in March she came into my room way too early and woke me up.
"Mikey" someone whispered. I woke and cracked my eyes. It was still dark outside even with the days getting longer. So, it must have been super early.
"Mikey" the voice said again, just as quiet but I recognized it as my sister's.
"Go back to sleep" I muttered at her, pulling the sheet over my head. But she wouldn't be denied.
"I can't sleep" she replied a little louder, as if that somehow gave her the right to disturb my own. I ignored her, but she didn't leave. Instead, I could hear her pacing anxiously. Right when I was about to drift off, she spoke again.
"Dare me, Mikey"
That sure woke me up. I hadn't heard those words in months. I can't say I never expected to hear them from her again. But this was totally out of the blue with no context whatsoever. It wasn't a special occasion. We weren't with a babysitter. There was no catalyst for her request. And it was the middle of the damn night.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, still quite disoriented. She was standing in the middle of my room, little more than an outline in the dark. The pajamas she had worn to bed that evening struck a recognizable silhouette. It was a comfortable tank top with oversized holes around the arms and neck, and shorts covered in ruffles all over. It was nothing a young lady would want to be seen out and about in, but not indecent for lounging around the house.
She rudely flipped the switch on the wall, and I groaned as light assaulted my eyes. Now I was mad. But she didn't seem to care. She asked me again. This time I detected a strange but familiar edge in her voice.
"Dare me, Mikeeeeey......please?"
When I didn't react, she stomped her foot and started to whine out another "Mikeeeeeee" before I cut her off. God, she could still be an annoying little brat when she wanted to. In the light I could see more than just her outline. The pajamas were bright, assaulting 90’s colors. But beneath her shirt, she wore one of her cute new bras. It was a real one, not a training bra, white with pale pink trim. Even some of the intricate detail on the little cups encasing the growing orbs on her chest were visible through the comically large holes in her tank top.
The waistband of her shorts had elastic, but it was not very strong and sagged slightly under the weight of all those ruffles. The shorts were at least a size too big and would have fit better on a grown woman’s hips. On her it sank so low that the entire waistband of her pink panties was showing. It was the same shade and material as her bra. She didn't seem to care in the least that her big brother could tell she was wearing a matching lingerie set beneath her pajamas. She seemed much more concerned with finding out if I was going to help her or not.
"OK, Goosey. Um....." I said, stalling for time. She swayed back and forth, her whole body tensed in anticipation, while I tried to come up with something for her to do. But I wasn't exactly in the right mindset to construct an elaborate and creative dare. At that moment, more than anything, I just wanted her off my back so I could sleep a little while longer. "...um, ok, go get your running shoes and come back here."
She took off like a shot and came back carrying her sneakers and a pair of ankle socks. I had been expecting to use that to buy me some time, but she was too quick. That's when I, Michael Jenkins - creative mastermind extraordinaire, dared my sister to go jogging in her pajamas. Give me a break! I was still half asleep!
"That it?!" she complained, understandably, when she heard the dare. "That's stupid!"
I couldn’t disagree. I had aimed too low with that one. Still, she didn't have to call me "stupid". Eyeing my pillow, I threw in a few more twists just to round it out. With a yawn, I added, "Also, you have to take off your bra first. And... you have to keep running around the neighborhood at least until the sun comes up."
I relaxed when I saw Lucy's eyes flutter, even if somewhat unenthusiastically. I closed my eyes and lay down on my pillow. I made her turn off the lights expecting her to leave immediately and let me sleep. But she took her time. First, I heard her putting her socks and shoes on, then the sound of what must have been her removing her bra. Even then, she stuck around a while longer, doing who knows what and making just enough noise to bother me. Finally, mercifully she left, and the peace and quiet allowed me to fall back asleep.
I’d like to tell you all about what happened to Lucy on that jog. How she had to keep running all over the neighborhood in her pajamas until sun-up. Did she hold her shorts up while she ran or let them sag down and risk someone seeing her pink panties? Maybe she encountered some pervy old neighbor out walking his dog and he got a good peek down her shirt. I'd tell you if I could, but I admit I have no idea. She didn't say anything about the run, and I didn't ask. I slept soundly and didn't wake up until it was all over. Win-win, right? Only, it wasn't over. because the next day, she woke me up again.
It was Sunday morning, once again well before sun-up. I was sleeping so soundly and having the nicest dream. It was a recurring one of mine about one of Lucy's classmates. In the dream, she visited me in my bed, and we made out and... did a bunch of private stuff that I learned about in sex-ed.
Lucy might have tried to wake me up that morning with a gentle whisper, but if she did, it didn't work. So, she quickly moved to plan "B". She sat forcefully down on my bed. An earthquake invaded my dream, and I woke with a jarring start. At first, I thought it was Lucy's friend come to visit me in real life. Then I realized it was just Lucy and I was pissed.
"Goosey! You woke me up! Go away!" I snarled and tried to roll over. She wasn't having it.
"Mikeeeey, please. Dare me!" When I didn't respond, she bounced on the bed in a little tantrum, acting every bit like a spoiled 5-year-old and not someone who was only half a year away from officially being a teenager. She repeated her plea.
"Dare me, Mikey.....Mikeeeeeeey. Dare Me!"
Hopes of returning to my erotic dream slipped away as this little child continued to bounce annoyingly on the bed. I relented and told her to get her shoes again. I was a little more prepared this time when she returned and covered my eyes before she once again flooded the room with light. But I was not prepared for what I saw when I peeked out. She was wearing a nightgown. Mom had stopped buying her nightgowns long ago. But she must have had some old ones floating around the back of her closet.
I was about to give her the same dare as last night, but she wasn't wearing a bra this time, so I had to pick on something else. Her panties were an obvious choice. It was a little more risky than last night. The childish gown was way too small for her tween frame and from my low angle on the bed, I could clearly see her panties peeking out beneath the hem. And that was her standing still with her arms at her side. Once she started jogging, there was no way that gown alone would be able to keep her privates covered.
Her eyes fluttered weakly when I dared her to go jogging in her nightgown with no panties on. Just like last time, she flipped the lights off, then went about her business of getting ready. But this time, I stayed awake and watched. There was enough moonlight coming in that I could tell when she pulled her panties off and stepped out of them. Then she bent over at the waist and put on her socks and shoes. Even in the dark, I could see the hem of her nightgown rise leaving her bare bottom sticking up in the air while she was bent over.
She got her shoes on and started doing some stretches. That made sense. A runner wasn't supposed to go out on a jog without warming up first. She performed various maneuvers, bending at the waist and touching her toes, then pulling one foot up at a time to stretch out her leg muscles. Whenever she raised her arms high above her head, the nightgown pulled up all the way to her waist. I swear I could see the outline of her nude pussy lips as she stretched, even in the dark. Well, maybe it was my imagination.
Once she was sufficiently warmed up, she left, rudely leaving her panties behind on my floor. I closed my eyes, frustrated to have two nights in a row ruined. But I couldn't fall asleep, so I eventually gave up and went down to have a super early breakfast. I ate a bowl of cereal then sulked tiredly. She returned after sun-up looking equally sour. I was surprised to see her enter the kitchen and start making her own bowl of cereal. It didn't fit her pattern. Usually after a dare, she was eager to go straight to her room for some private time. But she just sat there eating in her incredibly short nightgown and running shoes and glaring at me.
I said something to her, just small talk, but she snapped at me. Eventually, she left to take a shower. The snapping didn't stop there and continued all day. By that afternoon, I was snapping back at her. I didn't know what got into me, but she was just being so mean. I decided everyone was allowed to have a bad day now and then and just resolved to avoid her for the rest of the day.
That evening, I was in my room trying to study for school the next day. I had an earth science test coming up, but I was so tired and had trouble concentrating. I figured if Lucy woke me up again tomorrow, no amount of preparation would help because I would sleep right through my test. So, while I studied, I also contemplated that problem.
I was at my wits end. Something was off with her, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with the dares. She had come to me with a familiar look on her face - that need to scratch an itch. But she had never kept coming back night after night like this. Something wasn't right. But what?
At a loss, I returned to my studies, trying to focus on the difference between magma and lava and how minerals were formed. What is the definition of plate tectonics? What are the necessary ingredients for diamonds, the hardest material on Earth? Heat, Pressure, and Time. Ingredients. Heat....Pressure....Time. Ingredients......
I stared absently at the page in my textbook about diamonds, distracted but also tired. A funny thought struck me. Heat, Pressure, Time. It almost kind of fit Lucy in a weird way. When she asked for a risky dare, it put her under a lot of pressure. And she always got turned on as a result. So, her own body's hormones supplied the heat. I suppose that would make the diamonds in this analogy what inevitably happened after the dare was over in the privacy of her room, heh. Only, the last two times...
Slowly a theory formed in my brain about what had been going wrong lately. What if the two recent jogging dares simply weren't daring enough to create the pressure she needed for diamonds to form? They were too boring and didn't cause her to produce any heat. She sure didn't look turned-on when I saw her at breakfast.
Maybe she needed me to figure out a way to give her bigger, ahem, diamonds. Obviously, more pressure would work. But that was the problem. My creative dare juices were tapped out. I seemed to do better when I was into it. But I couldn't get into it if she wasn't into it. Maybe if she didn't keep waking me up from a dead sleep expecting me to come up with something on the spot. Ugh! I almost despaired thinking I had hit another dead end.
I frantically looked back at the textbook, as if the answer was somewhere hidden on the page. Stupid, I know. But believe it or not, it did give me a notion to build on. Heat, Pressure, Time. The amounts didn't matter, the book said. Given enough time, even a moderately low amount of heat and pressure could make a diamond. I had already determined that I had no realistic way to increase the pressure. And her body supplied the heat. That just left time.
...or did it? I circled back to heat. What if my assumption that the jogging dares hadn't produced any heat was wrong? What if they did produce a little, but she was dissipating it all in between? That's it! That's the answer!
Lucy was a diamond factory. In the past, a single dare provided enough pressure all at once to create a big enough diamond to satiate her for a long time. But if my theory was correct, that wasn't the only way. I could apply less pressure over time and get the same result. Assuming she wasn't able to dissipate the heat in the process.
I went right to work planning. It helped knowing I didn't have to come up with an amazing dare in its complete form. I just had to get her started and keep her off balance and on edge. Then I could improvise. I was good at that. Her heat should keep building and given enough time; it should cause her to produce a spectacular diamond. This was going to be fun!
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Re: Dare Me (new chapter 11/21)
You are building the anticipation quite nicely with this chapter, excited to see what Mikey comes up with.
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Re: Dare Me (new chapter 11/21)
I can see why the jogging dares aren't working. She's not running into anybody while jogging. It's like a tree falling in the forest but nobody
is there to hear it...no sound has been made. If no one sees Lucy, no one reacts to seeing her, then the dare is a dud. No satisfaction.
I assume the rest of the chapter is finished. I'd consider daring Lucy to go to the local tennis courts and play a game with one of the boys there at
the court while wearing something inappropriate for tennis playing. Bring back the tanktop and no bra.
Another possibility is an indoor swimming pool. I suppose Lucy's swimsuit is also in a state of being old and "too small".
is there to hear it...no sound has been made. If no one sees Lucy, no one reacts to seeing her, then the dare is a dud. No satisfaction.
I assume the rest of the chapter is finished. I'd consider daring Lucy to go to the local tennis courts and play a game with one of the boys there at
the court while wearing something inappropriate for tennis playing. Bring back the tanktop and no bra.
Another possibility is an indoor swimming pool. I suppose Lucy's swimsuit is also in a state of being old and "too small".
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Re: Dare Me (new chapter 11/21)
The chapter is finished, but those are good ideas! Sadly, I already had other plans for the swimsuit, so went a different direction.TeenFan wrote: ↑Tue Nov 22, 2022 9:24 am I can see why the jogging dares aren't working. She's not running into anybody while jogging. It's like a tree falling in the forest but nobody
is there to hear it...no sound has been made. If no one sees Lucy, no one reacts to seeing her, then the dare is a dud. No satisfaction.
I assume the rest of the chapter is finished. I'd consider daring Lucy to go to the local tennis courts and play a game with one of the boys there at
the court while wearing something inappropriate for tennis playing. Bring back the tanktop and no bra.
Another possibility is an indoor swimming pool. I suppose Lucy's swimsuit is also in a state of being old and "too small".
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Dare Me - Chapter 9 - Lucy makes a Diamond (Part 1)
Dare Me - Chapter 9 - Lucy makes a Diamond (Part 1)
I avoided her the rest of the evening and got to sleep early. It was a school night, but I set my alarm for 4:30am. I was determined to flip the script on her. I went into her room and woke her up in a similar manner she had employed on me the night before; by jumping vigorously on her bed. This time she was the one disoriented. I didn't give her any time to get her bearings.
"Lucy Jenkins, I have a dare for you. Take off all your clothes, put on your running shoes and meet me at the front door. You have 2 minutes." I said ominously then stood up and walked out of her room.
Two minutes later, she stumbled down the stairs in nothing but her sneakers and ankle socks. She had put her hair up in a hasty ponytail and looked a little scared. She rubbed her eyes sleepily but did not cover herself. She must have sensed this was different somehow than the last two nights. That was a good sign.
I instructed her to go ahead and warm up. She went through the same stretches I had seen her do last night in the dark of my bedroom. Only this time she was wearing nothing except a pair of sneakers and standing under the entryway chandelier. It had been five full months since I had last seen her naked and her body had changed in new and interesting ways. Her skin was flawless as usual but quite pale from being cooped up inside all winter. Her hair was longer and darker, too. I knew by mid-summer the sun would bleach it several shades lighter.
The last traces of her baby fat clung to her in dwindling places. Her hip bones were not as, well, boney, for example. And on her stomach, there was now an unbroken plane from her pelvis to the bottom of her rib cage. And instead of smooth baby fat, sinuous new muscles rippled beneath the surface as she stretched.
Her legs were trim and impossibly long, like a gazelle. I thought they must be longer than every girl in my school, even the 9th graders. But then I was reminded that when it came to the girls in my school, I never got to see their legs all the way to the top like I could with Lucy. That probably skewed my perspective. They were also more sculpted than before and had little rippling muscles, probably from all the recent jogging.
Her beautiful, rounded bottom that I had previously seen filling out her P.E. shorts was now unobstructed. I guarantee every boy in her class fantasized about what it would be like to see Lucy's amazing naked ass when he played with himself at night. But they were stuck only imagining. I got to see it in person.
Her still growing breasts bulged out more in every direction. Her areolas (a term I learned in health class) had grown darker and more pronounced. They were wrinkled tightly and made her nipples poke out even further than before which added a whole new dimension to her chest. I knew that meant she was either cold or excited and I guessed the latter. She was practically buzzing. Another good sign.
Her pussy lips, sorry, her labia were plumper and starting to bloom. I could already see a slight sheen glistening under the lights. Heat. A very good sign! When she finished her warmup, she stood awaiting her dare with quiet anticipation. She stared at me with those intense blue eyes.
"Lucy Jenkins," I started with a solemn voice. She perked up thinking she was about to get her dare. But instead, to keep her off balance, I asked, "Do you masturbate?"
"What?!" she faltered and took a step back - literally taken aback by my sudden lewd question. Then she moved her hand to cover her pussy. "No!" she said with a deep blush.
"I find that hard to believe. Are you sure you know what that means?" I offered, "you know, play with yourself?" I made air quotes then looked down where she was holding her pussy as if I had just caught her in the act. She quickly removed her hand.
"God, no! I do not 'play with myself', she swore, "That's gross! Pervert."
Having clearly struck a nerve, I smiled knowingly. "No matter," I continued, "now this dare is going to last longer than usual and has multiple parts. So, pay attention.
Lucy Jenkins, first, I dare you to jog around the neighborhood as you are dressed right now, in only your running shoes. When you are finished with your run, do not come home. Instead, go straight to Mr. Beski's house. Tell him you joined the run club at school but can't afford the uniform, so you are doing chores to raise money to buy one. Then ask him if there are any chores you can do for him while you are there. He may release you anytime, but you are not allowed to ask to leave until 7:00. Once he says you can go, come home, and get ready for school.
Second, you are not allowed to 'play with yourself' or touch yourself down there until this dare is complete. That part shouldn't be too hard since you think that's 'gross'. But remember, the dare does not end when you get home. There will be more, but that's a surprise for later. Something to look forward to."
When I finished talking Lucy's eyes fluttered so much, I thought she was having a seizure. It was a lot to process, but there was no need for her to just stand around processing it. She would have plenty of time for that on her run. So, my speech concluded, I opened the door and helpfully said "the sun will be up soon, you better get going. And no covering!"
I was pretty proud of myself. I didn't have the rest of the dare figured out yet, but it was a solid foundation. Yeah, using Mr. Beski was kind of derivative. But I felt the "no touching yourself" rule was a clever twist. I knew for a fact she was lying to me about never masturbating. She had protested too much in her denial. And she even had the gall to call me the pervert. She would pay for that comment.
I didn’t need her to admit it because I had personally heard her masturbating while she fantasized about Mr. Beski's grandson, Joseph. But the real reason for adding that twist was so I wouldn't have to worry about her letting off steam in the middle of the dare and losing her heat. And knowing Lucy, she would honor every instruction I had given her, including that one.
Around 6:30 the sun came up, but she still wasn't back. She had to have been aiming to get back before then to use the cover of darkness to conceal her nudity. But she missed her window of opportunity. I got completely ready for school and ate breakfast. Still no sign of Lucy. I had given her permission, if Mr. Beski hadn't yet dismissed her by then, to excuse herself at 7:00. When 7:10 rolled around I saw mom off to work. But she still wasn't back. That’s when I started to sweat. Did something go wrong?
I was supposed to ride my bike to school that day but wouldn't make it in time if I didn't leave by around 7:25. However, I couldn't leave until she had returned safely. About 5 minutes later, she finally did appear, running in from the opposite direction as Mr. Beski's house! Even more bizarrely, she was wearing an apron. She was out of breath and looked disheveled, but in one piece. The apron was adult size and thick, like one used for grilling. It swallowed her small frame and wrapped all the way around her modestly. But it still looked silly and out of place on a girl who was supposed to be out for a jog.
I wanted to know what had gone so wrong with the dare. But time was short. She only had about 15 minutes to get ready for school, so I let her go upstairs and describe what happened while she got ready. She stripped off the apron right in front of me. I guess she was used to being naked around me by now, even though I wasn't sure I would ever be. She told the story from the beginning, starting with her jog. I even followed her into the bathroom and stood there while she took a quick shower. That was an interesting experience.
Anyway, she made it through her jog without incident. Mr. Beski was delighted to see her - who wouldn't be happy to see a cute, naked young lady show up at your doorstep and offer to do odd jobs around your house? He did have a couple chores for her. Namely, he needed several lightbulbs changed and his courtyard garden needed watering. That didn't sound good to me. I had heard stories of shut-in senior citizens unable to change their own lightbulbs as they got older. But it wasn't like him to let his prized garden fall into disarray.
She finished her shower and had me hand her a towel. I got to watch her dry off, then she dropped the towel and walked naked to her room. I followed her. I had never seen a girl get ready after her shower before. It was a whirlwind of clothes and freshly scrubbed flesh and hair accessories and lots and lots of skin. But she seemed completely comfortable letting me watch her dress and undress until she had the perfect combination for her day. She didn't wear make-up yet, so the biggest chunk of time was spent on her hair.
Once she was dressed, I kind of lost interest in her morning routine and wanted her to get back to her story. The meager chores she had already listed would have taken practically no time at all. So why was she so late getting back? And where did the apron fit in? I made her proceed with her recounting.
She said Mr. Beski gave her $10, and she thought he was about to let her go. But he had one last chore for her. He handed her an envelope with a letter inside and asked if she would please deliver it to his friend's house. Lucy didn't want to do it, especially since it meant showing up naked at another old man’s doorstep, but it was technically still part of her dare. So, she took the letter and set off. At that point it was still night out and she figured she could endure one more brief moment of humiliation if it meant getting back home before daylight hit.
His friend lived in the next neighborhood over from us in the direction of Lucy's school. She wasn't that familiar with those street names and got a little lost. But she eventually found the right street and house number.
At this point, Lucy stopped getting ready and turned to me wide-eyed.
"It was awful, Mikey!" she said, "a man answered the door, and I handed him the letter. He read it to himself then turned to me with a creepy smile."
Mr. Beski had told his friend in the letter about Lucy needing to raise money for her track uniform and had volunteered her for another round of chore duty. The man had her come in and said there was something she could help him out with. When she entered the living room, there were three other men. It sounded like some kind of early morning card playing club for old men. She said everyone just stared at her naked body and she didn't know what to do.
"But I didn't cover up!" she assured me. As she was speaking, I noticed her surreptitiously reach down between her legs as if something was bothering her down there. I has a suspicion about the cause of her discomfort, and even through the thick material of her skirt, it almost counted as breaking the "no touching yourself" rule, but I decided to let it slide.
She continued, "he asked if I knew how to make coffee. I said 'no’, and he brought me into his kitchen and showed me how. Then he told me to make a fresh pot and bring it out in four mugs."
This was too perfect. I could just picture it. A young naked waitress serving coffee to a bunch of leering, old men while they played bridge or something. She finished serving coffee, but they weren't done. They kept thinking up more things for her to bring them. First it was cream and sugar. Then breakfast cookies. Juice, milk, muffins. She kept bringing them things and they kept leering at her nudity.
Finally, at 7:00, she was allowed to excuse herself. They pooled $20 and invited her back anytime, something she swore would never ever happen. It was bright outside by then so she could no longer hide in darkness. She knew she had to get back quickly. But she took one step outside and there was Connor Lyles riding his bike down the sidewalk. He was on his way to school.
"I'm pretty sure he saw me, too!" she exclaimed with a blush. "Even though I ran back inside real quick. I’m sorry! I just couldn't do it. That neighborhood is full of kids, and they would all be riding or walking to school about this time. So, I stole an apron from that old man. Well, I paid him the $30 I had made, so maybe it's not stealing? I'm sorry! I know I wasn't supposed to cover up, but I just couldn't make it home without it."
I listened to her pathetic excuses with a stern expression. I told her she had broken the rules with that apron and would pay later as a result. She gulped and nodded. But for now, we needed to leave. She had finished getting ready just as her story ended. Her hair was done up in a bun with a braid that looped down behind her and somehow came back up into it. I couldn't figure out how she had managed to make all that, but it looked amazing. We rushed downstairs a little late for school. If she left now on her bike, she would probably get to her school in time. I would have to ride hard but thought I could make it too.
She stood at the front door, this time dressed in a cute school outfit, and beamed up at me. She was practically glowing and looked beautiful. She gave me a big hug and said, "Bye, Mikey, and thank you" with a smile so big it made her eyes squint.
I said, "don't thank me, yet. You still have the rest of your dare to complete later. And you still owe me for using that apron when you weren't supposed to." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before she left. It was good to have the old Lucy back.
After school, she told me that Connor Lyles kept looking at her on the playground. She guessed he was trying to figure out if he had really, briefly seen her walk out of a house in his neighborhood without any clothes on or if he was hallucinating. I told her not to worry. It was too strange an encounter and wouldn't make any sense in his mind. Why would Lucy Jenkins be outside a random house where she didn't even live without any clothes on? I assured her boys that age were constantly fantasizing about their female classmates being naked, especially the cutest ones. That statement made her blush.
She was fidgety and on edge all evening. But not in an angry way like before. This was nervous anticipation, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was kind of cute watching her squirm. She even tried to pry information from me, casually asking what my evening plans were. But I didn't fall for it. Eventually, she gave up on the subtle approach and asked outright if I would please go ahead and give her the rest of her dare now. I flatly refused. I had had the benefit of thinking about it all day and had come up with what I felt would be a fitting and truly grand finale. But I didn't want to rush it.
I could practically see the little diamond factory stirring to life inside her. The initial pressure had kick-started the process. Now the heat was building. Time was working in my favor. I told her that badgering me would just make me want to wait longer. She managed to hold her tongue after that. She was clearly disappointed when the evening passed without incident. Although, she did perk up at bedtime, perhaps suspecting more overnight excitement. She deserved to spend at least one night stuck in her bed, the anticipation and heat building inside her body, but unable to do anything to relieve the pressure.
All the while, I would finally get a good night's sleep without interruption. At least, that was my plan. I guess I overestimated her ability to endure it. Because very early the next morning, a voice as small as a mouse roused me from my sleep.
"...Mikey..."
I opened my eyes. It was dark in my room and at first, I didn't see anyone. But then I detected a small, Lucy-shaped presence at the foot of my bed. She wasn't saying anything or moving at all. It was kind of creepy. Like, how long had she been sitting there just watching me sleep?
My clock said 4:31am. I reached over and turned on the lamp on my nightstand. I immediately noticed several irregularities at once. Most unusually, she was naked. She had gone to bed with pajamas. What happened? Also, her eyes were wild and sunken at the same time, and her hair was disheveled more than usual; even more than bedhead would cause. But most troubling, there were little red marks all over her chest.
"Mikey, help me." she said with tears gathering in the corners of her eyes and threatening to run down her cheeks. She sniffled.
Thinking she was hurt and taking my role as her protective older brother seriously, I sat up a little bit to assess the situation. Maybe it was her lack of clothes, but she looked so small and vulnerable kneeling there at the foot of my bed. From her eyes, I guessed she hadn't slept much, if at all. But other than the red marks, which appeared superficial, she didn't appear to be physically hurt. So, I asked her to tell me what was wrong. What did she need? She gave only a two-word response.
"Dare Me"
I avoided her the rest of the evening and got to sleep early. It was a school night, but I set my alarm for 4:30am. I was determined to flip the script on her. I went into her room and woke her up in a similar manner she had employed on me the night before; by jumping vigorously on her bed. This time she was the one disoriented. I didn't give her any time to get her bearings.
"Lucy Jenkins, I have a dare for you. Take off all your clothes, put on your running shoes and meet me at the front door. You have 2 minutes." I said ominously then stood up and walked out of her room.
Two minutes later, she stumbled down the stairs in nothing but her sneakers and ankle socks. She had put her hair up in a hasty ponytail and looked a little scared. She rubbed her eyes sleepily but did not cover herself. She must have sensed this was different somehow than the last two nights. That was a good sign.
I instructed her to go ahead and warm up. She went through the same stretches I had seen her do last night in the dark of my bedroom. Only this time she was wearing nothing except a pair of sneakers and standing under the entryway chandelier. It had been five full months since I had last seen her naked and her body had changed in new and interesting ways. Her skin was flawless as usual but quite pale from being cooped up inside all winter. Her hair was longer and darker, too. I knew by mid-summer the sun would bleach it several shades lighter.
The last traces of her baby fat clung to her in dwindling places. Her hip bones were not as, well, boney, for example. And on her stomach, there was now an unbroken plane from her pelvis to the bottom of her rib cage. And instead of smooth baby fat, sinuous new muscles rippled beneath the surface as she stretched.
Her legs were trim and impossibly long, like a gazelle. I thought they must be longer than every girl in my school, even the 9th graders. But then I was reminded that when it came to the girls in my school, I never got to see their legs all the way to the top like I could with Lucy. That probably skewed my perspective. They were also more sculpted than before and had little rippling muscles, probably from all the recent jogging.
Her beautiful, rounded bottom that I had previously seen filling out her P.E. shorts was now unobstructed. I guarantee every boy in her class fantasized about what it would be like to see Lucy's amazing naked ass when he played with himself at night. But they were stuck only imagining. I got to see it in person.
Her still growing breasts bulged out more in every direction. Her areolas (a term I learned in health class) had grown darker and more pronounced. They were wrinkled tightly and made her nipples poke out even further than before which added a whole new dimension to her chest. I knew that meant she was either cold or excited and I guessed the latter. She was practically buzzing. Another good sign.
Her pussy lips, sorry, her labia were plumper and starting to bloom. I could already see a slight sheen glistening under the lights. Heat. A very good sign! When she finished her warmup, she stood awaiting her dare with quiet anticipation. She stared at me with those intense blue eyes.
"Lucy Jenkins," I started with a solemn voice. She perked up thinking she was about to get her dare. But instead, to keep her off balance, I asked, "Do you masturbate?"
"What?!" she faltered and took a step back - literally taken aback by my sudden lewd question. Then she moved her hand to cover her pussy. "No!" she said with a deep blush.
"I find that hard to believe. Are you sure you know what that means?" I offered, "you know, play with yourself?" I made air quotes then looked down where she was holding her pussy as if I had just caught her in the act. She quickly removed her hand.
"God, no! I do not 'play with myself', she swore, "That's gross! Pervert."
Having clearly struck a nerve, I smiled knowingly. "No matter," I continued, "now this dare is going to last longer than usual and has multiple parts. So, pay attention.
Lucy Jenkins, first, I dare you to jog around the neighborhood as you are dressed right now, in only your running shoes. When you are finished with your run, do not come home. Instead, go straight to Mr. Beski's house. Tell him you joined the run club at school but can't afford the uniform, so you are doing chores to raise money to buy one. Then ask him if there are any chores you can do for him while you are there. He may release you anytime, but you are not allowed to ask to leave until 7:00. Once he says you can go, come home, and get ready for school.
Second, you are not allowed to 'play with yourself' or touch yourself down there until this dare is complete. That part shouldn't be too hard since you think that's 'gross'. But remember, the dare does not end when you get home. There will be more, but that's a surprise for later. Something to look forward to."
When I finished talking Lucy's eyes fluttered so much, I thought she was having a seizure. It was a lot to process, but there was no need for her to just stand around processing it. She would have plenty of time for that on her run. So, my speech concluded, I opened the door and helpfully said "the sun will be up soon, you better get going. And no covering!"
I was pretty proud of myself. I didn't have the rest of the dare figured out yet, but it was a solid foundation. Yeah, using Mr. Beski was kind of derivative. But I felt the "no touching yourself" rule was a clever twist. I knew for a fact she was lying to me about never masturbating. She had protested too much in her denial. And she even had the gall to call me the pervert. She would pay for that comment.
I didn’t need her to admit it because I had personally heard her masturbating while she fantasized about Mr. Beski's grandson, Joseph. But the real reason for adding that twist was so I wouldn't have to worry about her letting off steam in the middle of the dare and losing her heat. And knowing Lucy, she would honor every instruction I had given her, including that one.
Around 6:30 the sun came up, but she still wasn't back. She had to have been aiming to get back before then to use the cover of darkness to conceal her nudity. But she missed her window of opportunity. I got completely ready for school and ate breakfast. Still no sign of Lucy. I had given her permission, if Mr. Beski hadn't yet dismissed her by then, to excuse herself at 7:00. When 7:10 rolled around I saw mom off to work. But she still wasn't back. That’s when I started to sweat. Did something go wrong?
I was supposed to ride my bike to school that day but wouldn't make it in time if I didn't leave by around 7:25. However, I couldn't leave until she had returned safely. About 5 minutes later, she finally did appear, running in from the opposite direction as Mr. Beski's house! Even more bizarrely, she was wearing an apron. She was out of breath and looked disheveled, but in one piece. The apron was adult size and thick, like one used for grilling. It swallowed her small frame and wrapped all the way around her modestly. But it still looked silly and out of place on a girl who was supposed to be out for a jog.
I wanted to know what had gone so wrong with the dare. But time was short. She only had about 15 minutes to get ready for school, so I let her go upstairs and describe what happened while she got ready. She stripped off the apron right in front of me. I guess she was used to being naked around me by now, even though I wasn't sure I would ever be. She told the story from the beginning, starting with her jog. I even followed her into the bathroom and stood there while she took a quick shower. That was an interesting experience.
Anyway, she made it through her jog without incident. Mr. Beski was delighted to see her - who wouldn't be happy to see a cute, naked young lady show up at your doorstep and offer to do odd jobs around your house? He did have a couple chores for her. Namely, he needed several lightbulbs changed and his courtyard garden needed watering. That didn't sound good to me. I had heard stories of shut-in senior citizens unable to change their own lightbulbs as they got older. But it wasn't like him to let his prized garden fall into disarray.
She finished her shower and had me hand her a towel. I got to watch her dry off, then she dropped the towel and walked naked to her room. I followed her. I had never seen a girl get ready after her shower before. It was a whirlwind of clothes and freshly scrubbed flesh and hair accessories and lots and lots of skin. But she seemed completely comfortable letting me watch her dress and undress until she had the perfect combination for her day. She didn't wear make-up yet, so the biggest chunk of time was spent on her hair.
Once she was dressed, I kind of lost interest in her morning routine and wanted her to get back to her story. The meager chores she had already listed would have taken practically no time at all. So why was she so late getting back? And where did the apron fit in? I made her proceed with her recounting.
She said Mr. Beski gave her $10, and she thought he was about to let her go. But he had one last chore for her. He handed her an envelope with a letter inside and asked if she would please deliver it to his friend's house. Lucy didn't want to do it, especially since it meant showing up naked at another old man’s doorstep, but it was technically still part of her dare. So, she took the letter and set off. At that point it was still night out and she figured she could endure one more brief moment of humiliation if it meant getting back home before daylight hit.
His friend lived in the next neighborhood over from us in the direction of Lucy's school. She wasn't that familiar with those street names and got a little lost. But she eventually found the right street and house number.
At this point, Lucy stopped getting ready and turned to me wide-eyed.
"It was awful, Mikey!" she said, "a man answered the door, and I handed him the letter. He read it to himself then turned to me with a creepy smile."
Mr. Beski had told his friend in the letter about Lucy needing to raise money for her track uniform and had volunteered her for another round of chore duty. The man had her come in and said there was something she could help him out with. When she entered the living room, there were three other men. It sounded like some kind of early morning card playing club for old men. She said everyone just stared at her naked body and she didn't know what to do.
"But I didn't cover up!" she assured me. As she was speaking, I noticed her surreptitiously reach down between her legs as if something was bothering her down there. I has a suspicion about the cause of her discomfort, and even through the thick material of her skirt, it almost counted as breaking the "no touching yourself" rule, but I decided to let it slide.
She continued, "he asked if I knew how to make coffee. I said 'no’, and he brought me into his kitchen and showed me how. Then he told me to make a fresh pot and bring it out in four mugs."
This was too perfect. I could just picture it. A young naked waitress serving coffee to a bunch of leering, old men while they played bridge or something. She finished serving coffee, but they weren't done. They kept thinking up more things for her to bring them. First it was cream and sugar. Then breakfast cookies. Juice, milk, muffins. She kept bringing them things and they kept leering at her nudity.
Finally, at 7:00, she was allowed to excuse herself. They pooled $20 and invited her back anytime, something she swore would never ever happen. It was bright outside by then so she could no longer hide in darkness. She knew she had to get back quickly. But she took one step outside and there was Connor Lyles riding his bike down the sidewalk. He was on his way to school.
"I'm pretty sure he saw me, too!" she exclaimed with a blush. "Even though I ran back inside real quick. I’m sorry! I just couldn't do it. That neighborhood is full of kids, and they would all be riding or walking to school about this time. So, I stole an apron from that old man. Well, I paid him the $30 I had made, so maybe it's not stealing? I'm sorry! I know I wasn't supposed to cover up, but I just couldn't make it home without it."
I listened to her pathetic excuses with a stern expression. I told her she had broken the rules with that apron and would pay later as a result. She gulped and nodded. But for now, we needed to leave. She had finished getting ready just as her story ended. Her hair was done up in a bun with a braid that looped down behind her and somehow came back up into it. I couldn't figure out how she had managed to make all that, but it looked amazing. We rushed downstairs a little late for school. If she left now on her bike, she would probably get to her school in time. I would have to ride hard but thought I could make it too.
She stood at the front door, this time dressed in a cute school outfit, and beamed up at me. She was practically glowing and looked beautiful. She gave me a big hug and said, "Bye, Mikey, and thank you" with a smile so big it made her eyes squint.
I said, "don't thank me, yet. You still have the rest of your dare to complete later. And you still owe me for using that apron when you weren't supposed to." She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before she left. It was good to have the old Lucy back.
After school, she told me that Connor Lyles kept looking at her on the playground. She guessed he was trying to figure out if he had really, briefly seen her walk out of a house in his neighborhood without any clothes on or if he was hallucinating. I told her not to worry. It was too strange an encounter and wouldn't make any sense in his mind. Why would Lucy Jenkins be outside a random house where she didn't even live without any clothes on? I assured her boys that age were constantly fantasizing about their female classmates being naked, especially the cutest ones. That statement made her blush.
She was fidgety and on edge all evening. But not in an angry way like before. This was nervous anticipation, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was kind of cute watching her squirm. She even tried to pry information from me, casually asking what my evening plans were. But I didn't fall for it. Eventually, she gave up on the subtle approach and asked outright if I would please go ahead and give her the rest of her dare now. I flatly refused. I had had the benefit of thinking about it all day and had come up with what I felt would be a fitting and truly grand finale. But I didn't want to rush it.
I could practically see the little diamond factory stirring to life inside her. The initial pressure had kick-started the process. Now the heat was building. Time was working in my favor. I told her that badgering me would just make me want to wait longer. She managed to hold her tongue after that. She was clearly disappointed when the evening passed without incident. Although, she did perk up at bedtime, perhaps suspecting more overnight excitement. She deserved to spend at least one night stuck in her bed, the anticipation and heat building inside her body, but unable to do anything to relieve the pressure.
All the while, I would finally get a good night's sleep without interruption. At least, that was my plan. I guess I overestimated her ability to endure it. Because very early the next morning, a voice as small as a mouse roused me from my sleep.
"...Mikey..."
I opened my eyes. It was dark in my room and at first, I didn't see anyone. But then I detected a small, Lucy-shaped presence at the foot of my bed. She wasn't saying anything or moving at all. It was kind of creepy. Like, how long had she been sitting there just watching me sleep?
My clock said 4:31am. I reached over and turned on the lamp on my nightstand. I immediately noticed several irregularities at once. Most unusually, she was naked. She had gone to bed with pajamas. What happened? Also, her eyes were wild and sunken at the same time, and her hair was disheveled more than usual; even more than bedhead would cause. But most troubling, there were little red marks all over her chest.
"Mikey, help me." she said with tears gathering in the corners of her eyes and threatening to run down her cheeks. She sniffled.
Thinking she was hurt and taking my role as her protective older brother seriously, I sat up a little bit to assess the situation. Maybe it was her lack of clothes, but she looked so small and vulnerable kneeling there at the foot of my bed. From her eyes, I guessed she hadn't slept much, if at all. But other than the red marks, which appeared superficial, she didn't appear to be physically hurt. So, I asked her to tell me what was wrong. What did she need? She gave only a two-word response.
"Dare Me"
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Dare Me - Chapter 9 - Lucy makes a Diamond (Part 2)
Dare Me - Chapter 9 - Lucy makes a Diamond (Part 2)
Are you kidding me?! I almost went off on her. Was she really that worked up that she couldn't let me get a single night's sleep? I opened my mouth to berate her, but then I watched her somehow shrink even further into herself. She was clearly in distress. So, instead I took a deep breath then made her tell me what had happened.
"I'm sorry!" she begged for leniency, "I tried really, really hard not to disturb you. It's just so hot in my room and I couldn't sleep. I tried everything - except..."
She stopped talking, suddenly realizing her hands were tugging at her breasts again. I pieced the rest together on my own. Her diamond factory was running so hot that it kept her up tossing and turning all night. She had bravely won the fight against the urge to touch herself "down there" but in the process had sacrificed her clothes, and then her breasts to the effort. Playing with her little boobs all night, while pleasurable, was not enough to push her over the top and had probably just made things worse. When it became apparent to her that I wasn't going to wake up early again and give her the dare, she came to my room to beg.
I did feel a little sorry for her, especially the part where she lost a whole night's sleep. I could relate to that. And I never meant for her to suffer. On the other hand, if I caved and gave her what she wanted now, I might never get a good night's sleep again. I told her I was sorry for her, but I could not give her a dare right then. She was going to have to wait.
"How long?" she asked desperately, "at least tell me when. Please!"
I pondered a moment then decided to throw her a bone, but she would have to pay for it. So, I guess that counts as selling her a bone.
I said, "I'll tell you when, but only after you tell me what those are." I pointed, indicating the red streaks on her chest.
She looked down and knew she was busted. "Now, admit that you do touch yourself and apologize for calling me a pervert."
She blushed, then tried an admission of guilt "I, no!... I mean... I do. I guess, I do do it. Sorry."
"Apology not accepted!" I snarled. "You have to say 'Mikey, you were right, and I was lying. I do masturbate and touch myself down there to make myself feel good and I'm sorry I called you a pervert'".
She blushed even harder. But she must have been in really dire straits to demean herself in front of me. She took a deep breath and managed to parrot a close approximation of my words.
"Mikey, I was lying. I do m-m-masturbate and touch myself all over, even d-down there. And it feels good. And I'm sorry I called you a pervert. And you were right. Sorry."
She looked up at me in fright. I mused at the idea of making her prove it by giving me a demonstration, but I wasn’t that mean. I had scored my point. And she had earned her information. So, I said, "that's better, I accept your apology. Wednesday morning, before school." meaning that was when she would get the rest of her dare.
Her face scrunched up as she tried to remember what today was. She calculated she would have to wait another 24 hours then heaved a sigh of relief and the stress lines on her face faded somewhat. The wait would be hard, but the timing uncertainty had been killing her. I took note of that in case I needed to use it in the future. I reminded myself that pressure and heat weren't the only components. Time, when wielded correctly, was equally as powerful a tool. Just then a light came on in the hallway and mom stepped into the doorway to my room. Oh shit!
" Michael?" she said, clearly confused by the scene in front of her, "what's going on? Lucy, where are your clothes?!"
I had to agree, it didn't look good. My heart started pounding as I stumbled to verbalize an excuse. I stuttered something incoherent while my mind went blank. Luckily, Lucy gave an innocuous answer. She innocently told mom how it was so hot in her room that she took off her pajamas. But it was still too hot, so she took her panties off too. She tossed and turned all night and thought she might have a fever. Knowing how much mom needed sleep, she came to me for help instead.
Her disheveled appearance did help sell the idea that she might be getting sick. Her hair was everywhere, her eyes were bloodshot, and there were red streaks on her chest. Mom checked her forehead and said she did feel a little clammy. She sent Lucy back to bed and said she would bring her something from the medicine cabinet.
Lucy left, but mom stayed behind to talk a minute. She must have had a sneaking suspicion that something else was up. It wasn’t normal behavior for a 12-year-old girl to be so comfortable to visit her older brother’s room without any clothes on and she wanted to make sure there was no foul play involved. I could tell I wasn’t quite off the hook yet. She started by saying how happy she was that Lucy trusted me enough to come to me with problems. But she didn’t like that Lucy had been naked. After all, she wasn't a little girl anymore.
"Aw, mom," I said calmly, in as assuring a voice as I could summon, “all I saw was that she needed my help. I really do think she just got overheated, though. She was just in here for a minute but was already starting to feel better, and I was about to send her back to bed by the time you got up here. It didn’t’ bother me. It’s just little Lucy Goosey, you know? Don’t worry about it. The important thing is that she’s ok."
Usually, mom did whatever I suggested. So, when I told her not to worry about it, that’s what she did. She thanked me for being so responsible and caring. Then, willing to turn the page from the uncomfortable topic, she turned to the morning. If Lucy didn't have a fever in the morning and was feeling ok, she suggested it would probably be fine for her to go to school. I concurred but offered to stay home with her if she was still sick, so mom wouldn't have to miss work. She looked relieved that someone else was stepping up to carry some of the parental load. with our co-parenting mini session completed, she said "goodnight" and left me to go back to sleep.
The next morning Lucy was looking much better and wanted to go to school. I guess having a timeline for the rest of her dare had a comforting and calming effect on her. But that evening, her excitement level started to ramp up again as the time drew nearer. Fortunately, she was pretty wiped out after being up the entire previous night and didn't have trouble falling asleep at bedtime.
I went to wake her up at 5:00am Wednesday morning, but she was already awake and sitting primly on the side of her bed. She looked well rested and happy to see me. Eager to get started, she said she had already warmed up and was sitting there in nothing but her running shoes. I had her follow me to the entryway, telling her to keep quiet to avoid waking mom up.
Before I handed her the same apron she had stolen a few nights earlier, I stopped to look her over. I could see evidence everywhere of the fiery torrent buzzing beneath the surface. Her areolas were so wrinkled, and her nipples looked like, well, diamonds. There was already a sheen of moisture between her legs, likely the result of two days of pent-up arousal that she had not been allowed to dissipate. Despite the perky smile on her face, her hands were clenched. Satisfied that my plan was still working, I handed her the apron and told her to put it on.
As before, I asked her the incredibly intimate question, "Lucy Jenkins, do you masturbate?"
She flinched and I caught a brief hesitation, but she knew better than to lie about it this time.
"Yes."
I smiled knowingly then asked, "Are you good at it?"
"Yes!" she answered, then blushed at how quickly and absolutely she had affirmed it.
"Tell me,” I asked her, “in your opinion, who is the hottest teacher in your school?"
I had already had a predicted answer. There weren’t many options to choose from since the entire school only had three male teachers. I suppose she might think of the P.E. teacher that everyone called "coach" as cute. And he was the organizer of run club, so she did spend more time around him than most kids. There was also Mr. Morrison the art teacher. She never had anything negative to say about him. But he was kind of a hippy and not exactly heartthrob material.
That left her history teacher, Mr. Clark. She bit her lip and thought a while, though. It was a closer contest in her mind than I had expected. But in the end, she admitted "Mr. Clark". Like I said, I had already anticipated she would say that. I remembered from my own elementary school years that Mr. Clark's classroom had a big window overlooking the playground. And I had integrated that knowledge into my dare already, so I was happy she picked him.
Now that I had gotten her to admit which teacher she had the biggest crush on, I laid out the dare. First, she had to return the apron she stole from that poor man on Monday by leaving it on his doorstep. Since that was all she had on, the rest of her dare would be performed completely naked.
Next, she had to run to her school playground and jog around the track that encircled it. This would add to her humiliation, since it was the same track she ran on every day at run club. She would never be able to look at that track the same way after today. As a punishment for breaking the rules last time and using the apron to cover up, she would have to complete five penalty laps around the track before taking her first break.
Then I told her how break time was going to work. Since she thought Mr. Clark was so hot, each break was going to happen in front of the window to his classroom. Her jaw dropped open as I described it.
"At each break, I want you to go up to his classroom window and play with yourself while you count. You have to be all the way against the window, too. Like, both your nipples have to stay pressed up against the glass the whole time."
I handed her a sharpie marker and explained, "If you can get yourself off in 10 second in front of Mr. Clark's window, your dare will be complete, and you can come home. If not, you have to stop touching yourself and go take another lap. But before you leave, you have to make one tally mark on the window and one right here." I pointed to the perfect spot on her abdomen, about halfway between her belly button and the top cleft of her glistening pussy.
"Keep trying until you have 10 tally marks. You probably won't need all 10 chances since, like you said, you're so good at masturbating. But if for some reason you still haven’t done it by then, you have to wait until you get home to finish."
I stopped talking, expecting to see her eyes to fluttering like before, but she just stared at me with her mouth agape. I think I broke my sister. Finally, she said "but....but..."
I interrupted, "Yes, I know you have a cute butt. I'm sure Mr. Clark has noticed it too. He probably stares at it every day when you walk out of his classroom. You should use that. Try to pretend he's in his classroom watching you while you're in front of his window playing with yourself. Whatever you do, you should stop stammering and get to it. Because once the sun's up, there will be lots of kids heading to school and they're all going to be wondering why Lucy Jenkins is doing naked laps around the playground. Then they're going to want to know what you're doing over by Mr. Clark's window with your hand between your legs. That is, unless you hurry up and get going. Come on, it will be fun. I dare you!"
That time her eyes did flutter, but she still wasn't moving. I saw she was going to need a kickstart to get her bare ass in gear. So, I opened the door and gave her a shove. Only then did she take off in a panicked sprint. It's a good thing she had stretched already. Otherwise, she would surely have gotten a muscle cramp.
Once she was gone, I looked at the clock and reviewed the calculations I had made earlier. It was currently 5:20am. To run straight to the school should have taken her fifteen minutes. But she had to take a detour to return the apron. That would make it more like twenty. The running track completely encircled the playground, including all the equipment, the basketball court, three baseball infields that were used for little league practices and a small soccer field. All in all, I figured it to be a quarter mile long. Each lap should take her about 4 minutes, maybe less if she pushed herself.
15 total laps at four minutes apiece equaled an hour. Throw in the trips to and from Mr. Clark's window and the brief masturbation breaks and she would be pushing close to 7:00am before she was done. That is, unless she were somehow able to make a diamond in 10 seconds. I had lots of practice at that age, but even I didn't think I could get myself off in 10 seconds! Although, who knows? She looked so worked up before she left, she might make a diamond on her first try!
I had over an hour to kill and I'm not you going to tell you what I did to pass the time. But I was more relaxed, dressed and had eaten breakfast when 7:15 rolled around. As usual, she was running late. I couldn’t begin to guess what had delayed her. All I knew, if that girl showed up in another apron, there would be hell to pay!
Lucky for her, when she did finally appear, she was still naked. I met her at the front door, and she stumbled inside. She was completely out of breath and had clearly been running hard. Her legs were wobbly, like jelly, and I had to reach out to prevent her from collapsing in a heap. There was a sheen of sweat all over her body, but no more so than at the apex of her legs where drops were running down the insides of her thighs.
On her abdomen were 10 black tick marks, shamefully indicating her ten failed orgasm attempts. Her eyes were glazed over, and she started mumbling "they saw me...they saw me" over and over between heaving breaths. Who was she talking about? Did some school employees catch her running naked around the track? Was it a group of kids on their way to school? Or it could be someone else entirely? I wanted to ask her right there to tell me but decided she better lie down first.
It looked like everything had gone perfectly. Too bad I had forgotten to account for mom, who hadn’t left for work yet! I started to lead her to the stairs, thinking her bed was the best place to settle, when we ran into mom. For the second time in two days, I wracked my brain for a good reason why my sister was completely naked in my presence.
Fortunately, I could easily play the fever card again. One touch anywhere on her body and it was obvious she was running hot. I even explained away the shoes she was wearing by saying she must be so delirious that she thought she was going to school. Mom wanted to stay home and take her to the doctor. But, as usual, she relented when I insisted I had it handled. I convinced her to go to work. Fortunately, she didn't notice the tick marks on Lucy's stomach, because I didn't have a good excuse for that.
As mom left, I got Lucy upstairs and she collapsed onto her bed. I knew she didn't have a real fever, but I figured her muscles were probably sore from overexertion. After all, she had probably run at least 5 to 7 miles; most of it at full speed. So, I went downstairs to the medicine cabinet in mom's bedroom to get some Tylenol. I was not prepared for the sight that awaited me when I returned.
I stepped through the doorway of her bedroom to see Lucy splayed out, face down on her bed. She was on top of her covers, and, from that angle, I could see down one side of her entire body, from head to foot. She was propped up by her bent knees with her shoes in the air. Her head was buried in her pillow causing her body to form a sort of a tripod. Her naked bottom was sticking straight up in the air and her right hand was buried firmly between her thighs, trying to fulfill some urgent need coming from her pussy. Her left hand alternated squeezing and pinching each of her little hanging boobs.
She grunted lewdly into the pillow over and over, making animalistic sounds I didn't know a 12-year-old girl could make. Every few seconds, her whole body would jolt, like she was being zapped with electricity.
Her masturbation style was quite different from my own, but I recognized it for what it was. It was so sexy, that I immediately sprung to full mast, despite having already taken care of things that morning. The primitive part of me begged my brain to stay there and watch. But I felt like an intruder, encroaching uninvited into the most intimate endeavor a young lady could undertake on her own. I watched her struggle and grunt a while longer, then reluctantly retreated from the room.
About 45 minutes later, I went to check on her. I didn't hear any sounds coming from the room, so I thought it not impolite to intrude. She was curled into a tight ball up on top of her covers, snoozing. She was still naked but had kicked off her shoes. The room was filled with the most alluring aroma. All I could figure; it must have been a byproduct of her body’s earlier efforts.
I went into her closet to get an extra sheet to lay over her. But she roused slightly before I could find one. She never opened her eyes but rolled over onto her back and stretched out her sore leg muscles with a sexy whimper. Then her hand moved back between her spread legs and her fingers split the little folds of her pussy. I finally found a sheet and, not wanting to interrupt, quietly left it folded on the bed beside her. I attempted to retreat and give her privacy, but before I could get to the door, her moans were already crescendoing. I wasn't two steps down the hall when I heard little Lucy produce another huge diamond.
I left her be until around lunch time. I warmed up a can of soup and made grilled cheese and brought it to her along with some Gatorade. She was asleep again, but had pulled the sheet over her. She sat up as I entered, letting it fall to her waist. She was unconcerned that it exposed her bare breasts. She ate and drank eagerly, then I made her recount what had happened.
She told me all about her jogging adventure, including every failed orgasm attempt against Mr. Clark's window. She had gotten so close, she said, but then the school lights automatically turned on at 6:30 and messed everything up. No longer staring at a black rectangle, she had to peer into the same fully lit classroom she attended every day and attempt to bring herself off in 10 seconds. It was just too humiliating for her.
I looked down to her abdomen at the ten marks of failure and chuckled to myself. That's when I noticed, in surprise, that she had one hand inside her sheet and was rubbing herself again as she told the story. I watched in fascination as her nipples swelled fully erect with a few seconds. How many diamonds can a girl produce in one day?!
The worst part, she said, was coming back. She had just completed her 15 laps and was exhausted. Her leg muscles, in particular, felt like they were going to seize up and her diaphragm was hurting from all the deep breathing necessary to keep oxygen flowing to her lungs. But she knew she had to hurry, and she desperately needed to get home for...other reasons. So, pushing her body beyond its limit and ignoring the complaints from her legs, she forced herself to climb the huge hill that separated the school from the greenway.
She figured that would be the hardest part of the return trip. After that hill, the greenway would be all downhill until she reached our neighborhood. But as she crested the hill, she looked down upon a group of about a dozen kids on bicycles, all boys.
"They saw me, Mikey! They all saw me!" she said, with terror in her eyes. The hand beneath her sheet started moving more forcefully.
They were about halfway up the greenway, riding right toward the school, and toward her! She heard cries of alarm as they immediately noticed a naked girl cresting the top of the hill. Boys have an innate ability to notice a naked female, no matter where or how far away.
"Hey look! There's a naked girl up there! She's naked! Come on!" The boys called out to each other, and the entire peloton started pedaling in earnest. The only thing that saved her from getting caught by them was the fact that they were only fourth graders and were having to ride uphill toward her.
She turned away from the crest and started running the opposite direction from the boys. But that was just taking her back toward the school, not where she needed to be heading. The sun was up by now. Running away was pointless. Only cover could save her. So, she veered left and made for the fence line. The boys crested the hill just in time to see their naked quarry scrambling up the outside of a privacy fence.
I knew exactly where that fence line was and tried to guess if I would have been able to identify a specific naked girl from that distance. I would have recognized Lucy’s body in an instant. But I had seen it naked so many times by now, I had an unfair advantage. Her long blonde ponytail was a distinct feature. I gave it 50-50 odds the boys had recognized her. Lucy didn’t want to think about it.
As soon as she landed, she turned and saw a little girl looking at her and smiling. The girl was inside her house sitting at the breakfast table. But she was facing a sliding glass door which gave a perfect view of their backyard. She was young, probably in preschool, and was clearly amused to see another naked girl standing outside. Lucy was more concerned about the girl's two older brothers who were also sitting at the table. Even from behind, she recognized one as a boy from her class. The boys were facing away, but the little girl opened her mouth to say something and pointed right at Lucy.
Lucy was not about to wait around and get caught naked in the backyard of a classmate. She immediately forced her overworked legs to start pumping again and disappeared around the side of the house, hoping her nude body had been nothing more than a delicious pink and blonde blur when the boys turned around to look. She heard the glass door sliding open and someone calling out, but she was already climbing over the next fence and just escaped.
Sitting in her bed, Lucy started to squirm as she recounted the story. She had spent the entire trip back ducking behind hedges, parked cars, trashcans, and dodging the seeming constant flow of children, most of whom she recognized, on their way to school. They were all fully dressed, of course. She was the only one without any clothes forced to scrounge for ways to conceal her secret nudity. She would cautiously peek around corners and wait, then force her aching, protesting body into another sprint across open ground if the coast was clear. All the while, she had to resist attending to the constant throbbing need between her legs.
When she reached our neighborhood, she gave up hiding and just ran. She decided, if she was going to be seen, at least it was senior citizens and not her own classmates. By the time she finished the story, her face was flush, and it was obvious she needed to make another diamond. When I told her it was a dare well done, she smiled proudly, but then her mouth sagged open, and her eyes squeezed shut accompanied by cute little pants. The hand beneath her sheet was making bigger, more exaggerated motions, now. So, I excused myself and retreated to the stairs where I sat to eat my grilled cheese. Sure enough, a couple minutes later, the now familiar sound of yet another large diamond came echoing down the hallway.
In total, I'm not sure how many diamonds Lucy made that day. But it was enough to make a dragon envious. I guess it was enough to satiate her, too, because she didn't wake me up that night, or the next. It was nice to be able to relax, but I also knew it would not last forever. One day, she would be back. At least now I had some tools at my disposal. It always felt good to be properly equipped.
Are you kidding me?! I almost went off on her. Was she really that worked up that she couldn't let me get a single night's sleep? I opened my mouth to berate her, but then I watched her somehow shrink even further into herself. She was clearly in distress. So, instead I took a deep breath then made her tell me what had happened.
"I'm sorry!" she begged for leniency, "I tried really, really hard not to disturb you. It's just so hot in my room and I couldn't sleep. I tried everything - except..."
She stopped talking, suddenly realizing her hands were tugging at her breasts again. I pieced the rest together on my own. Her diamond factory was running so hot that it kept her up tossing and turning all night. She had bravely won the fight against the urge to touch herself "down there" but in the process had sacrificed her clothes, and then her breasts to the effort. Playing with her little boobs all night, while pleasurable, was not enough to push her over the top and had probably just made things worse. When it became apparent to her that I wasn't going to wake up early again and give her the dare, she came to my room to beg.
I did feel a little sorry for her, especially the part where she lost a whole night's sleep. I could relate to that. And I never meant for her to suffer. On the other hand, if I caved and gave her what she wanted now, I might never get a good night's sleep again. I told her I was sorry for her, but I could not give her a dare right then. She was going to have to wait.
"How long?" she asked desperately, "at least tell me when. Please!"
I pondered a moment then decided to throw her a bone, but she would have to pay for it. So, I guess that counts as selling her a bone.
I said, "I'll tell you when, but only after you tell me what those are." I pointed, indicating the red streaks on her chest.
She looked down and knew she was busted. "Now, admit that you do touch yourself and apologize for calling me a pervert."
She blushed, then tried an admission of guilt "I, no!... I mean... I do. I guess, I do do it. Sorry."
"Apology not accepted!" I snarled. "You have to say 'Mikey, you were right, and I was lying. I do masturbate and touch myself down there to make myself feel good and I'm sorry I called you a pervert'".
She blushed even harder. But she must have been in really dire straits to demean herself in front of me. She took a deep breath and managed to parrot a close approximation of my words.
"Mikey, I was lying. I do m-m-masturbate and touch myself all over, even d-down there. And it feels good. And I'm sorry I called you a pervert. And you were right. Sorry."
She looked up at me in fright. I mused at the idea of making her prove it by giving me a demonstration, but I wasn’t that mean. I had scored my point. And she had earned her information. So, I said, "that's better, I accept your apology. Wednesday morning, before school." meaning that was when she would get the rest of her dare.
Her face scrunched up as she tried to remember what today was. She calculated she would have to wait another 24 hours then heaved a sigh of relief and the stress lines on her face faded somewhat. The wait would be hard, but the timing uncertainty had been killing her. I took note of that in case I needed to use it in the future. I reminded myself that pressure and heat weren't the only components. Time, when wielded correctly, was equally as powerful a tool. Just then a light came on in the hallway and mom stepped into the doorway to my room. Oh shit!
" Michael?" she said, clearly confused by the scene in front of her, "what's going on? Lucy, where are your clothes?!"
I had to agree, it didn't look good. My heart started pounding as I stumbled to verbalize an excuse. I stuttered something incoherent while my mind went blank. Luckily, Lucy gave an innocuous answer. She innocently told mom how it was so hot in her room that she took off her pajamas. But it was still too hot, so she took her panties off too. She tossed and turned all night and thought she might have a fever. Knowing how much mom needed sleep, she came to me for help instead.
Her disheveled appearance did help sell the idea that she might be getting sick. Her hair was everywhere, her eyes were bloodshot, and there were red streaks on her chest. Mom checked her forehead and said she did feel a little clammy. She sent Lucy back to bed and said she would bring her something from the medicine cabinet.
Lucy left, but mom stayed behind to talk a minute. She must have had a sneaking suspicion that something else was up. It wasn’t normal behavior for a 12-year-old girl to be so comfortable to visit her older brother’s room without any clothes on and she wanted to make sure there was no foul play involved. I could tell I wasn’t quite off the hook yet. She started by saying how happy she was that Lucy trusted me enough to come to me with problems. But she didn’t like that Lucy had been naked. After all, she wasn't a little girl anymore.
"Aw, mom," I said calmly, in as assuring a voice as I could summon, “all I saw was that she needed my help. I really do think she just got overheated, though. She was just in here for a minute but was already starting to feel better, and I was about to send her back to bed by the time you got up here. It didn’t’ bother me. It’s just little Lucy Goosey, you know? Don’t worry about it. The important thing is that she’s ok."
Usually, mom did whatever I suggested. So, when I told her not to worry about it, that’s what she did. She thanked me for being so responsible and caring. Then, willing to turn the page from the uncomfortable topic, she turned to the morning. If Lucy didn't have a fever in the morning and was feeling ok, she suggested it would probably be fine for her to go to school. I concurred but offered to stay home with her if she was still sick, so mom wouldn't have to miss work. She looked relieved that someone else was stepping up to carry some of the parental load. with our co-parenting mini session completed, she said "goodnight" and left me to go back to sleep.
The next morning Lucy was looking much better and wanted to go to school. I guess having a timeline for the rest of her dare had a comforting and calming effect on her. But that evening, her excitement level started to ramp up again as the time drew nearer. Fortunately, she was pretty wiped out after being up the entire previous night and didn't have trouble falling asleep at bedtime.
I went to wake her up at 5:00am Wednesday morning, but she was already awake and sitting primly on the side of her bed. She looked well rested and happy to see me. Eager to get started, she said she had already warmed up and was sitting there in nothing but her running shoes. I had her follow me to the entryway, telling her to keep quiet to avoid waking mom up.
Before I handed her the same apron she had stolen a few nights earlier, I stopped to look her over. I could see evidence everywhere of the fiery torrent buzzing beneath the surface. Her areolas were so wrinkled, and her nipples looked like, well, diamonds. There was already a sheen of moisture between her legs, likely the result of two days of pent-up arousal that she had not been allowed to dissipate. Despite the perky smile on her face, her hands were clenched. Satisfied that my plan was still working, I handed her the apron and told her to put it on.
As before, I asked her the incredibly intimate question, "Lucy Jenkins, do you masturbate?"
She flinched and I caught a brief hesitation, but she knew better than to lie about it this time.
"Yes."
I smiled knowingly then asked, "Are you good at it?"
"Yes!" she answered, then blushed at how quickly and absolutely she had affirmed it.
"Tell me,” I asked her, “in your opinion, who is the hottest teacher in your school?"
I had already had a predicted answer. There weren’t many options to choose from since the entire school only had three male teachers. I suppose she might think of the P.E. teacher that everyone called "coach" as cute. And he was the organizer of run club, so she did spend more time around him than most kids. There was also Mr. Morrison the art teacher. She never had anything negative to say about him. But he was kind of a hippy and not exactly heartthrob material.
That left her history teacher, Mr. Clark. She bit her lip and thought a while, though. It was a closer contest in her mind than I had expected. But in the end, she admitted "Mr. Clark". Like I said, I had already anticipated she would say that. I remembered from my own elementary school years that Mr. Clark's classroom had a big window overlooking the playground. And I had integrated that knowledge into my dare already, so I was happy she picked him.
Now that I had gotten her to admit which teacher she had the biggest crush on, I laid out the dare. First, she had to return the apron she stole from that poor man on Monday by leaving it on his doorstep. Since that was all she had on, the rest of her dare would be performed completely naked.
Next, she had to run to her school playground and jog around the track that encircled it. This would add to her humiliation, since it was the same track she ran on every day at run club. She would never be able to look at that track the same way after today. As a punishment for breaking the rules last time and using the apron to cover up, she would have to complete five penalty laps around the track before taking her first break.
Then I told her how break time was going to work. Since she thought Mr. Clark was so hot, each break was going to happen in front of the window to his classroom. Her jaw dropped open as I described it.
"At each break, I want you to go up to his classroom window and play with yourself while you count. You have to be all the way against the window, too. Like, both your nipples have to stay pressed up against the glass the whole time."
I handed her a sharpie marker and explained, "If you can get yourself off in 10 second in front of Mr. Clark's window, your dare will be complete, and you can come home. If not, you have to stop touching yourself and go take another lap. But before you leave, you have to make one tally mark on the window and one right here." I pointed to the perfect spot on her abdomen, about halfway between her belly button and the top cleft of her glistening pussy.
"Keep trying until you have 10 tally marks. You probably won't need all 10 chances since, like you said, you're so good at masturbating. But if for some reason you still haven’t done it by then, you have to wait until you get home to finish."
I stopped talking, expecting to see her eyes to fluttering like before, but she just stared at me with her mouth agape. I think I broke my sister. Finally, she said "but....but..."
I interrupted, "Yes, I know you have a cute butt. I'm sure Mr. Clark has noticed it too. He probably stares at it every day when you walk out of his classroom. You should use that. Try to pretend he's in his classroom watching you while you're in front of his window playing with yourself. Whatever you do, you should stop stammering and get to it. Because once the sun's up, there will be lots of kids heading to school and they're all going to be wondering why Lucy Jenkins is doing naked laps around the playground. Then they're going to want to know what you're doing over by Mr. Clark's window with your hand between your legs. That is, unless you hurry up and get going. Come on, it will be fun. I dare you!"
That time her eyes did flutter, but she still wasn't moving. I saw she was going to need a kickstart to get her bare ass in gear. So, I opened the door and gave her a shove. Only then did she take off in a panicked sprint. It's a good thing she had stretched already. Otherwise, she would surely have gotten a muscle cramp.
Once she was gone, I looked at the clock and reviewed the calculations I had made earlier. It was currently 5:20am. To run straight to the school should have taken her fifteen minutes. But she had to take a detour to return the apron. That would make it more like twenty. The running track completely encircled the playground, including all the equipment, the basketball court, three baseball infields that were used for little league practices and a small soccer field. All in all, I figured it to be a quarter mile long. Each lap should take her about 4 minutes, maybe less if she pushed herself.
15 total laps at four minutes apiece equaled an hour. Throw in the trips to and from Mr. Clark's window and the brief masturbation breaks and she would be pushing close to 7:00am before she was done. That is, unless she were somehow able to make a diamond in 10 seconds. I had lots of practice at that age, but even I didn't think I could get myself off in 10 seconds! Although, who knows? She looked so worked up before she left, she might make a diamond on her first try!
I had over an hour to kill and I'm not you going to tell you what I did to pass the time. But I was more relaxed, dressed and had eaten breakfast when 7:15 rolled around. As usual, she was running late. I couldn’t begin to guess what had delayed her. All I knew, if that girl showed up in another apron, there would be hell to pay!
Lucky for her, when she did finally appear, she was still naked. I met her at the front door, and she stumbled inside. She was completely out of breath and had clearly been running hard. Her legs were wobbly, like jelly, and I had to reach out to prevent her from collapsing in a heap. There was a sheen of sweat all over her body, but no more so than at the apex of her legs where drops were running down the insides of her thighs.
On her abdomen were 10 black tick marks, shamefully indicating her ten failed orgasm attempts. Her eyes were glazed over, and she started mumbling "they saw me...they saw me" over and over between heaving breaths. Who was she talking about? Did some school employees catch her running naked around the track? Was it a group of kids on their way to school? Or it could be someone else entirely? I wanted to ask her right there to tell me but decided she better lie down first.
It looked like everything had gone perfectly. Too bad I had forgotten to account for mom, who hadn’t left for work yet! I started to lead her to the stairs, thinking her bed was the best place to settle, when we ran into mom. For the second time in two days, I wracked my brain for a good reason why my sister was completely naked in my presence.
Fortunately, I could easily play the fever card again. One touch anywhere on her body and it was obvious she was running hot. I even explained away the shoes she was wearing by saying she must be so delirious that she thought she was going to school. Mom wanted to stay home and take her to the doctor. But, as usual, she relented when I insisted I had it handled. I convinced her to go to work. Fortunately, she didn't notice the tick marks on Lucy's stomach, because I didn't have a good excuse for that.
As mom left, I got Lucy upstairs and she collapsed onto her bed. I knew she didn't have a real fever, but I figured her muscles were probably sore from overexertion. After all, she had probably run at least 5 to 7 miles; most of it at full speed. So, I went downstairs to the medicine cabinet in mom's bedroom to get some Tylenol. I was not prepared for the sight that awaited me when I returned.
I stepped through the doorway of her bedroom to see Lucy splayed out, face down on her bed. She was on top of her covers, and, from that angle, I could see down one side of her entire body, from head to foot. She was propped up by her bent knees with her shoes in the air. Her head was buried in her pillow causing her body to form a sort of a tripod. Her naked bottom was sticking straight up in the air and her right hand was buried firmly between her thighs, trying to fulfill some urgent need coming from her pussy. Her left hand alternated squeezing and pinching each of her little hanging boobs.
She grunted lewdly into the pillow over and over, making animalistic sounds I didn't know a 12-year-old girl could make. Every few seconds, her whole body would jolt, like she was being zapped with electricity.
Her masturbation style was quite different from my own, but I recognized it for what it was. It was so sexy, that I immediately sprung to full mast, despite having already taken care of things that morning. The primitive part of me begged my brain to stay there and watch. But I felt like an intruder, encroaching uninvited into the most intimate endeavor a young lady could undertake on her own. I watched her struggle and grunt a while longer, then reluctantly retreated from the room.
About 45 minutes later, I went to check on her. I didn't hear any sounds coming from the room, so I thought it not impolite to intrude. She was curled into a tight ball up on top of her covers, snoozing. She was still naked but had kicked off her shoes. The room was filled with the most alluring aroma. All I could figure; it must have been a byproduct of her body’s earlier efforts.
I went into her closet to get an extra sheet to lay over her. But she roused slightly before I could find one. She never opened her eyes but rolled over onto her back and stretched out her sore leg muscles with a sexy whimper. Then her hand moved back between her spread legs and her fingers split the little folds of her pussy. I finally found a sheet and, not wanting to interrupt, quietly left it folded on the bed beside her. I attempted to retreat and give her privacy, but before I could get to the door, her moans were already crescendoing. I wasn't two steps down the hall when I heard little Lucy produce another huge diamond.
I left her be until around lunch time. I warmed up a can of soup and made grilled cheese and brought it to her along with some Gatorade. She was asleep again, but had pulled the sheet over her. She sat up as I entered, letting it fall to her waist. She was unconcerned that it exposed her bare breasts. She ate and drank eagerly, then I made her recount what had happened.
She told me all about her jogging adventure, including every failed orgasm attempt against Mr. Clark's window. She had gotten so close, she said, but then the school lights automatically turned on at 6:30 and messed everything up. No longer staring at a black rectangle, she had to peer into the same fully lit classroom she attended every day and attempt to bring herself off in 10 seconds. It was just too humiliating for her.
I looked down to her abdomen at the ten marks of failure and chuckled to myself. That's when I noticed, in surprise, that she had one hand inside her sheet and was rubbing herself again as she told the story. I watched in fascination as her nipples swelled fully erect with a few seconds. How many diamonds can a girl produce in one day?!
The worst part, she said, was coming back. She had just completed her 15 laps and was exhausted. Her leg muscles, in particular, felt like they were going to seize up and her diaphragm was hurting from all the deep breathing necessary to keep oxygen flowing to her lungs. But she knew she had to hurry, and she desperately needed to get home for...other reasons. So, pushing her body beyond its limit and ignoring the complaints from her legs, she forced herself to climb the huge hill that separated the school from the greenway.
She figured that would be the hardest part of the return trip. After that hill, the greenway would be all downhill until she reached our neighborhood. But as she crested the hill, she looked down upon a group of about a dozen kids on bicycles, all boys.
"They saw me, Mikey! They all saw me!" she said, with terror in her eyes. The hand beneath her sheet started moving more forcefully.
They were about halfway up the greenway, riding right toward the school, and toward her! She heard cries of alarm as they immediately noticed a naked girl cresting the top of the hill. Boys have an innate ability to notice a naked female, no matter where or how far away.
"Hey look! There's a naked girl up there! She's naked! Come on!" The boys called out to each other, and the entire peloton started pedaling in earnest. The only thing that saved her from getting caught by them was the fact that they were only fourth graders and were having to ride uphill toward her.
She turned away from the crest and started running the opposite direction from the boys. But that was just taking her back toward the school, not where she needed to be heading. The sun was up by now. Running away was pointless. Only cover could save her. So, she veered left and made for the fence line. The boys crested the hill just in time to see their naked quarry scrambling up the outside of a privacy fence.
I knew exactly where that fence line was and tried to guess if I would have been able to identify a specific naked girl from that distance. I would have recognized Lucy’s body in an instant. But I had seen it naked so many times by now, I had an unfair advantage. Her long blonde ponytail was a distinct feature. I gave it 50-50 odds the boys had recognized her. Lucy didn’t want to think about it.
As soon as she landed, she turned and saw a little girl looking at her and smiling. The girl was inside her house sitting at the breakfast table. But she was facing a sliding glass door which gave a perfect view of their backyard. She was young, probably in preschool, and was clearly amused to see another naked girl standing outside. Lucy was more concerned about the girl's two older brothers who were also sitting at the table. Even from behind, she recognized one as a boy from her class. The boys were facing away, but the little girl opened her mouth to say something and pointed right at Lucy.
Lucy was not about to wait around and get caught naked in the backyard of a classmate. She immediately forced her overworked legs to start pumping again and disappeared around the side of the house, hoping her nude body had been nothing more than a delicious pink and blonde blur when the boys turned around to look. She heard the glass door sliding open and someone calling out, but she was already climbing over the next fence and just escaped.
Sitting in her bed, Lucy started to squirm as she recounted the story. She had spent the entire trip back ducking behind hedges, parked cars, trashcans, and dodging the seeming constant flow of children, most of whom she recognized, on their way to school. They were all fully dressed, of course. She was the only one without any clothes forced to scrounge for ways to conceal her secret nudity. She would cautiously peek around corners and wait, then force her aching, protesting body into another sprint across open ground if the coast was clear. All the while, she had to resist attending to the constant throbbing need between her legs.
When she reached our neighborhood, she gave up hiding and just ran. She decided, if she was going to be seen, at least it was senior citizens and not her own classmates. By the time she finished the story, her face was flush, and it was obvious she needed to make another diamond. When I told her it was a dare well done, she smiled proudly, but then her mouth sagged open, and her eyes squeezed shut accompanied by cute little pants. The hand beneath her sheet was making bigger, more exaggerated motions, now. So, I excused myself and retreated to the stairs where I sat to eat my grilled cheese. Sure enough, a couple minutes later, the now familiar sound of yet another large diamond came echoing down the hallway.
In total, I'm not sure how many diamonds Lucy made that day. But it was enough to make a dragon envious. I guess it was enough to satiate her, too, because she didn't wake me up that night, or the next. It was nice to be able to relax, but I also knew it would not last forever. One day, she would be back. At least now I had some tools at my disposal. It always felt good to be properly equipped.
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Re: Dare Me (new chapter 11/23)
Thank you for being so consistent with chapters, they’ve been amazing
- perseus
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Re: Dare Me (new chapter 11/23)
Just wow! This two part chapter was a fantastic read!! I sincerely hope you continue with this story, especially now that Mikey has really stepped up his dare game!
I hope to read the lost swimsuit chapter one day but the history buff chapter had me very intrigued. I'm wondering if Mikey is going to get Mr. Clark involved somehow. I'm very looking forward to your next entry! I'm really hoping it's the history buff chapter!
Great work!
I hope to read the lost swimsuit chapter one day but the history buff chapter had me very intrigued. I'm wondering if Mikey is going to get Mr. Clark involved somehow. I'm very looking forward to your next entry! I'm really hoping it's the history buff chapter!
Great work!
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Re: Dare Me (new chapter 11/23)
Thanks! These unexpected added chapters are providing integral and necessary plot progression. The swimsuit saga is going to be a culmination or result.
Without these recent events happening first, it would have been very hard to justify or explain character motivation, both for Mikey and Lucy.
Not to spoil anything, but, Mr. Clark is in this next chapter and I’m really happy with it!
Without these recent events happening first, it would have been very hard to justify or explain character motivation, both for Mikey and Lucy.
Not to spoil anything, but, Mr. Clark is in this next chapter and I’m really happy with it!
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