Dare Me (new 7/29)

[rural_randy]

A basic chemistry set. So Lucy gets into using it to duplicate Riviera Dave's lotion

[neverdoubted]

A basic chemistry set. So Lucy gets into using it to duplicate Riviera Dave's lotion

A creative guess! But, no. It's a welcome packet for something she signed up to tryout for...

[Azrael]

Perhaps to a modeling course?

[Azrael]

Or perhaps the track and field team?

[jojo12026]

Or cheerleading

[neverdoubted]

Or cheerleading

We have a winner!

[Themarble]

Now im wondering how skimpy the outfit is, or will become!!! Man, I can't wait.

[neverdoubted]

Dare Me - Chapter 13 - Hardship Study Buddy (Part 5)

It was Lucy's responsibility to make dinner that night. But as night fell, I still hadn't heard a call to the table. Mom was working late and wouldn't be able to join us. When my stomach started grumbling, I ventured out to get a status update on her meal preparation and see if she needed help moving things along.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I paused when I heard what sounded like another girl's voice in the living room. At first, I thought maybe she had taken her free time and invited someone over to spend the afternoon with her. But that didn't make any sense. She wouldn't want someone else to see her in her nude state, would she?

My mind whirred as I tried to piece the clues together. Maybe someone had just shown up uninvited? Perhaps a friend or acquaintance had come to check on her. Her dare had kept her from getting out and about these past few days. If someone did happen to stop by, to greet them from behind the safety of the front door was one thing. But to invite someone in meant either she was comfortable letting them see her naked or...had she broken her dare and put clothes on?!

Just then, the other girl started chanting something and several other voices chimed in. Now I was really confused! What the hell was going on in there?

Sneaking down the short hallway, I peeked my head around the corner to the living room. The sound, I soon discovered, was actually coming from the TV. On screen, a girl, or rather a group of girls, all teenagers, were standing in a line formation. Cheerleaders.

They were wearing those unmistakable uniforms, red with gold trim; including traditional looking cheer tops and classic pleated skirts. They all had the same red and white tennis shoes and white ankle socks with a little red stripe around the top. They also wore matching high ponytails held up with white ribbons tied into a large bow.

Lucy was standing perfectly still in the middle of the room facing away from me. At first, I assumed she had found a tv show or special program about cheerleading airing and got sucked in. She was so invested that, even as the sun set and room grew dark, she hadn't even bothered to turn any lights on. She didn't even notice me coming the rest of the way into the room and sitting down on the couch.

She just stood staring at the tv, mesmerized by the routine being performed by the line of cheerful girls. The performers on the screen weren't wearing any identifiable school's name and their tops only had some generic megaphone ironed on the front. I initially had no reason to presume it was in any way associated with my school.

I hadn't the least objection to taking a break from my studying to watch a bit of a show featuring cute girls in matching short skirts twirling, and bouncing, and extolling the virtues of going and fighting and winning. I decided to stick around until the next commercial break before interrupting her to ask about dinner.

After a good fifteen minutes of watching, I started to get antsy for the commercial break. Other than the cute girls, the show didn't have much else going for it. The overall production quality felt low budget and I struggled to detect any sort of a plot. It felt more clinical than cinematic, definitely not a Spielberg production. It wasn't going to win any Oscars.

Growing bored, my gaze drifted over to Lucy's recognizable shape as she stood still rooted in the same spot I had first found her. I took a moment to appreciate how the screen's glow nicely highlighted every curve on her naked form. Only after my eyes had scanned up and down her body a few times did they start to drift further and finally notice the strange package on the floor. The box sat off to the side in the shadows with its top flaps wide open. It was about the size of two shoeboxes stacked on top of each other. I didn't recognize it as belonging to us and didn't have the first clue what it might contain; neither could I quite see inside from my seated angle.

Just then, some music swelled, and the show abruptly ended. Strangely, no credits rolled. It just faded to black. Only after the TV failed to switch over to commercials did I realize the show was not coming from a broadcast network. She had been watching a video tape. She immediately walked up and hit the "rewind" button, apparently eager to watch the whole thing again. She jumped when she turned back around and finally saw me sitting on the couch as a dark blob.

"Oh! Mikey, you scared me," she said, "when did you get here?"

I flipped a switch on the table lamp beside me, finally bringing some regular light into the room. Ignoring her question, I turned my attention to the mysterious box. Sitting up taller, I could see it was mostly taken up by something large and fluffy; two large fluffy things, in fact. Pom-poms. They were not red and gold like the ones in the video, but blue and white like the colors of my school.

Slowly, the clues clicked into place in my brain, and I figured out what was going on. At the end of your sixth-grade year, they take a day and have each student fill out a series of registration forms and paperwork. I remember doing it myself a couple years ago. The forms are meant to get you ready for junior high in the fall and include questions about transportation needs, financial aid, school lunch assistance, and academic placement.

It was shrouded in flowery language so as not to offend anyone, but every kid saw right through that last one. Back then, seventh grade was the first time they really started to separate the kids into the smart group and the dunces. While my grades weren't terrible, I was lumped in as one of the dunces for those purposes and never got placed in any accelerated class. Maybe that explains why I couldn’t seem to pass a simple written driver’s test.

In addition to the scholastic forms, I remember filling out an extracurricular questionnaire. That one asks you all about your interests and which extra activities you thought you might want to do once you got to seventh grade. Some activities, like the chess or drama clubs, were open to everyone, but others had limited spots which you had to try out or qualify for. I had excitedly checked the box for basketball but had had to wait until after football season was over to do my tryout.

In addition to track, I realized Lucy must have checked the box for cheerleading. It was one of the more popular activities for girls and I bet a lot of sixth graders checked that box every year. But there were limited spots for that activity and only the best girls made the coveted junior high cheer team.

In basketball, you only really need to know how to dribble. If you're tall enough, you don't even need to know that! So, the pathetic welcome packet I had received in the mail that previous summer had contained nothing more than instructions on what to expect and a schedule of games.

Prospective cheerleaders, it seems are given a totally different experience. The cheer team was always expected to hit the ground running in the fall semester alongside the start of football season. That put their tryouts in late August, just before the start of school.

The package contained everything a prospective new junior cheerleader could possibly need to get ready. In addition to the aforementioned pom-poms to practice with and learn how to wield correctly, there was a complete football and pep rally schedule, and a sheet full of chants and cheers to memorize. But Lucy had opened the box, skipped over all that, and gone straight to the last, most intriguing item, the instructional video.

I could tell from the sparkle in her eye that she was totally smitten with the idea of becoming a cheerleader. And why wouldn't she be? It provided everything a typical young lady might enjoy in one convenient package. There was the camaraderie of joining together with other girls to accomplish something. It was a chance to dress up, do your hair, and even possibly wear makeup. You got to walk down the halls on game day turning jealous heads in your uniform. And eventually, she would discover how easily a good-looking cheerleader could catch the eye of any boy she liked with nothing more than a flip of her hair and a vacuous giggle.

It happened every year to thousands of girls her age. I knew better than to even try and hold her back. If she wanted to practice and tryout for the school cheerleading squad, who was I to stand in her way? But that did not give her permission to shirk her other responsibilities, like dinner.

I stood and walked across the room, reaching the VCR just as it was finishing its rewind. Lucy, who had clearly been planning to rewatch the tape again for the umpteenth time, jerked her head up with a start when I hit the eject button and pulled it out of the machine.

"Mikeeeey, hey" she complained, "that's mine! Give it back!"

From the look in her eyes, I knew I was playing with fire. She was not about to give up that tape without a fight. But I had to put my foot down.

"No, Lucy," I said, "it's your night to make dinner and you're two hours late. You were also going to quiz me on my test, remember?"

She glared at me but did not argue my point.

"But I need it...to practice," was all she could come up with.

"Practice for what? Tryouts aren’t for at least a month!" I declared, which prompted another scowl from her. "You can have the tape back in the morning if you finish all your chores first."

Like the little child she still sometimes was, she huffed her best protest. Balling her hands up into fists on each side of her with her arms straight down, she looked on the verge of a full-blown tantrum if I didn't give her what she wanted.

She tried to look serious. But it's hard to take a little girl's threats seriously when she's completely naked at the time. If anything, it made her cuter in a way. She could snarl her lip at me all day, but it only highlighted her other lips; the ones between her legs which she couldn't control. Despite her angry posturing, her pussy remained puckered as sweetly as ever in a welcome greeting.

She could puff up her chest all she wanted to try and look more defiant and menacing. But when it caused her naked boobies to swell impressively to a size I didn't know she was capable of, I stared in awe and temporarily forgot what we were even quarreling over.

For a few seconds, she silently weighed her next move; deciding whether further escalation would help or harm her case. Then, with a final growl, and one last wistful look at her precious video tape, she surrendered and stomped off toward the kitchen.

She quizzed me halfheartedly after dinner, but I could tell she was just going through the motions. Her motivation for helping had been usurped by a new goal; to make the team and become a real cheerleader. The next morning, she rushed through breakfast and her chores. I expected her to come straightaway and ask me to return the video. But she surprised me by going upstairs to her room first.

What came back down a while later made my eyes bulge. She must have been so excited to start her training, that she began planning last night. She was wearing her white tennis shoes with each of the laces cinched up tightly into a neat bow. Her white socks were pulled up just high enough to cover her ankles before folding back down to show off a stripe of blue and a frilly lace fringe.

She had carefully curled her hair to look exactly like the main girl in the video. Her soft blonde curls were pulled up into a high ponytail by a white ribbon which had been tied expertly into a bow on top. Her hair, falling playfully down the back of her head, swayed when she walked. The tips of her longest strands were just long enough to tickle her bare neck and shoulders. She carried her pom-poms, one in each hand, still a little unsure of the proper way to hold them.

Still too young and not allowed full makeup outside special occasions, her beaming face had simply been freshly scrubbed clean. But she was such a natural beauty, she hardly needed to make her face up to look amazing. There was one exception to the "no makeup until you're older" rule, and she took full advantage of it. Now allowed some lipsticks, she had applied the boldest shade of pink she could find to spectacular effect. Her already naturally plump lips, which were normally a pale bubblegum pink, really popped into prominence with that darker shade and made her look somehow more mature. My mouth went dry, and a lump formed in my throat when those bright, puckered lips form into a gorgeous smile. When did my little sister become such a knockout?

I could feel my heart beat faster and I couldn't tear my eyes away from this alluring new creature. Made up as a cheerleader, she was literally breathtaking; with nothing, not even a single hair, out of place. Well, there was one small thing out of place. Despite her pom-poms, and her cute sporty shoes, and her hair, there was one very important thing missing. She wasn't wearing a cheer uniform. In fact, she didn't have a single stitch of clothing anywhere on her body.

She walked up to me and asked for the tape. I tried to breathe and act normally in her presence but found my body refusing to cooperate. My hands turned clammy, and I felt the same way I did on those rare occasions when a hot girl at school would address me. My blood was collecting in a place that made standing in my shorts uncomfortable and would soon become embarrassing. As a result, my blood-starved brain was struggling to function or give commands to the rest of my body.

Impatient, she gave up waiting and snatched it out of my hand. While she removed it from its case and walked over to the VCR, I excused myself. Running upstairs to find privacy, I locked myself in the bathroom and I peeled my shorts and underwear down. Out of control, I started stroking myself as soon as my overly engorged appendage sprang free from its tortuous confines. I came quickly then took a minute to clean up and recompose myself before heading back downstairs.

I tried to act casual as I returned to the living room. Fortunately, Lucy was too distracted by her new hobby to notice my sudden and suspicious departure for personal gratification reasons. She hadn't started the video yet and was still setting up the practice space. She had moved the coffee table all the way to one wall and relocated anything made of glass or that might get in the way.

Once everything was perfect, she flitted excitedly to the exact middle of the room, took a deep breath, then pressed "play" on the remote. Abandoned, I sat down on the empty couch and cracked open driver's book to study alone. As you can probably guess, with a gorgeous cheerleader in training standing right in front of me completely naked and about to embark on her practice routine, I was totally distracted and doomed not to learn a single thing that day.

[Themarble]

Seems like if Lucy ever figured out how she could use her natural looks to her advantage. She would grt whatever she wanted. Very nice chapter NeverDoubted. I really like the way while reading what you write, I can picture everything clearly.

[Azrael]

Wait. Wasn't the dare for her to be naked until he gets license? What's going to happen if she decides to stop helping and he doesn't get it? Will she have to stay naked or will he concede?