Dare Me (new 7/29)
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Dare Me - Chapter 15 - Doctor's Orders (Part 9)
Dare Me - Chapter 15 - Doctor's Orders (Part 9)
We both overslept until midday, which was probably a good thing. I woke up worrying about the same thing that had been bothering me as I fell asleep. What should I do about Lucy? She seemed to have slept soundly which was good. But that was part of my conundrum. How would she do at cheer camp without her big brother there to comfort her at night? I could picture her in distress every night, crying in her bed all alone while a flood of hormones with nowhere to go wracked her little body.
I had to consider that terrible possibility as I left her snoozing contentedly in my bed and slipped quietly from the room. She stirred when she heard me return from my shower.
"Mmm, good morning, Mikey," she yawned then rolled over on her back with one leg straight and the other slightly bent.
"Morning, Goosey, or should I say, 'good afternoon'," I teased as I, still wrapped in just a towel, stepped beside the bed to greet her. She smiled up at me with her eyes still half closed. It was good to see her smiling and in good spirits. Her ability to control her symptoms was always greatest after good rest and seemed to diminish as the day wore on.
Her night shirt was completely open, laying uselessly on either side of her bare body. "Why is your bed so much more comfortable than mine?" she asked, lifting her arms high above her head and bowing her back in a rather catlike morning stretch. Much of her lithe, naked torso was lifted completely off the bed and her bare breasts strained happily toward the ceiling. Her bubblegum pink nipples stood stiffly upon her pale chest; their tight, wrinkled condition told me everything I needed to know about her diamond factory's current state.
"Don't get too comfortable," I warned. I couldn't afford for her to get in the habit of invading my bed on a regular basis. I would never have any privacy!
As I turned and started walking toward my closet, I felt a tug at my waist and my towel falling away from my body. She had grabbed the hem as I walked away. I turned to see her grinning mischievously and holding my towel in her grasp like a prize.
I was about to reach for it, but then decided not to play her game. She was just trying to get a reaction out of me by goading me into playing tug-of-war with my towel. Well, I wasn't going to give her the pleasure of seeing me humiliated like that.
"Ha-ha, very funny," I said flatly and went about my business as if I didn't care. I felt her eyes studying me as I walked over to the full-length mirror hanging behind my closet and started to comb my hair as if that were an activity I frequently did buck naked and sporting a morning wood.
Towel or no towel, it's not like she hadn't seen it all before. After what happened during and after my dare, she was practically an expert on how my sexual organs worked. Well, that's not entirely accurate. She had seen my seed delivery system do its thing multiple times. But when it came to proper sex, she was still completely clueless. In fact, she hadn't even been through sex-ed in health class yet. We might both still be virgins, but I at least had a theoretical understanding of the act.
She rolled on her side propped up on one elbow. My eyes were drawn down her body to where the line of her tiny waist curved up and over her growing hips. Laying like that made her body look like the curves of an exotic sports car. When did she learn that trick?
I caught myself staring at her body's new trick in the mirror and felt my penis start to throb. I couldn't stop it, so I did the next best thing. I drew as little attention to it as possible in the hopes she would ignore it. Based on her next words, I think she must have noticed it anyway.
"Hey, Mikey, you ever thought about doing another dare?" she asked with a scheming grin. Dr. Alabar would probably argue her actions in that moment were in direct response to her condition. Her urge had been building for a few days. A dare was the conduit for channeling those hormones safely through her system. But without a dare, her chemical imbalance would drive her to more irrational and erratic behavior.
In this case, she was hoping to rope me into another risky situation. I wondered, did dad used to rope mom into similar risky situations? I had gathered some stories about their rocky marriage. Mom was such a pushover. I could totally see dad convincing her with nothing more than some thin excuse and a lot of cajoling to do some very risky things in very few clothes.
Maybe mom finally reached her limit and stood up to dad. Could that be what led to their divorce? I mean, if he couldn't stop his risky behavior, could his illness have driven him to leave her? It was all just a theory. Whatever it was, I was not a pushover. I wasn't about to let Lucy rope me into another dare!
"Not on your life!" I declared, putting my comb away and opening the top drawer of my dresser.
"Aww, come on," she whined as she sat up. She seemed genuinely disappointed that I didn't find any appeal whatsoever in doing another dare. You couldn't pay me to put myself through that ordeal again. So, I guess I really didn't have whatever syndrome was afflicting her.
She stood up with a twinkle in her eye. Her body was driving her to keep trying. "If you do it, I'll make it worth your while," she promised.
Worth my while...where had I heard that before? Wait a minute!
"You really think I'm going to fall for that again? You still owe me for last time," I accused.
That drove a stake in her case and shut her up, at least long enough for me to get dressed. But her condition, impossible to ignore, drove her to speak up again.
"Hey Mikey, can you do me a big favor?" she asked. This time, her voice was softer and much more respectful, which convinced me to at least listen to her request.
"What do you want?"
"Do you think you could, maybe, give me a massage before I leave for camp? I've been under so much stress and I'm still sore from the tryouts. It would really help me relax..." she looked up at me with big, pleading eyes. How could I say "no"?
As soon as I nodded my head, she ran from the room; presumably to retrieve her lotion. I moved my bed covers to one side to clear a spot and sat down. In short order, my naked sister, having shed her night shirt, appeared in the doorway holding the big jar of Riviera Dave's elixir.
She settled into my lap and started squirming immediately, as soon as my hands made first contact with her sensitive breasts. I must admit, I was conflicted about it and don't think I gave it my best effort. Sure, I was giving her what she wanted. But was this what she really needed right before leaving for camp? I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that, without a dare, I might just be priming the pump for her condition to spiral out of control. Even though she whimpered and complained pitifully when I stopped, I insisted on cutting the massage short; using the excuse that she still had chores that needed to get done before she left.
After she reluctantly stomped from the room, I closed the door behind her. Then, looking for advice on how to proceed, I opened the research file I had created about her condition. After reading through everything again, I came to a grim conclusion. I simply couldn't risk leaving Lucy in her current state. It would kill her if I didn’t let her go to camp. But it could also literally kill her if I sent her off without a dare.
The decision weighed heavily on me. I knew, by doing this, I was sentencing her to almost certain embarrassment in front of her new peers. But the danger to her would be much greater if I did nothing. Lucy was strong. She could recover from a little social embarrassment. But if her chemical pathways did not remain open, she could end up doing something to herself from which it is impossible to recover.
Once I had made up my mind to go ahead, I felt a little better. But there was still the question of what form of dare to give her. My initial idea had been to make her spend the entire weekend with no underwear. But now I really thought about it, that didn't sound daring enough to satiate her condition. Dr. Alabar had made it clear. The worst thing I could do when it comes to her treatment is to hold back. Was I holding back? I entertained some more extreme options but didn’t settle on anything. Luckily, I still had a few hours to make my final decision.
A call arrived just after lunch which sent Lucy's anxiety into the stratosphere. A storm system was tracking through the area that evening and Coach Easterling was considering postponing the bus trip until morning so they wouldn't be driving through the worst of it. She left instructions to stand by and promised to call back later that afternoon with a final decision.
You know how much Lucy hates uncertainty. Now imagine an entire afternoon of not knowing when the most anticipated trip of your young life is going to happen. Lucy must have walked several miles that afternoon even though she never left the house. She would come into the living room and demand to check the weather channel radar. Then she would go stare at the phone which was sitting on the kitchen bar and will it to ring.
When that didn't work, she would stalk over to the dining room window which faced west and scan the clear, blue horizon for any sign of gathering clouds. Before long, she was back in the living room demanding I change the channel back to the weather.
Her mood soured along with the sky as the storm clouds began to roll in late afternoon. The originally scheduled time to leave passed with no word from her coach. Seeing how fragile her emotions were, I didn't engage her in talk. In that state, anything I said, good or bad, had the potential to trigger a breakdown. Her eyes welled up on the verge of tears as, with a peal of thunder, the first drops of rain began to sprinkle onto the windowpane.
She was saved from a breakdown at the last possible moment by the ring of the telephone. Miss Easterling had also been watching the weather closely. After the initial cloudburst, the storm front tracking through the area was supposed to diminish into just showers. Everyone was to meet at the school immediately to head to Westfield, only a couple hours behind schedule.
Lucy's scream of elation was drowned out by another crash of thunder as the storm released the bulk of its fury. She ran over and gave me a big hug. The tears that had been threatening to form in the corners of her eyes were wiped way and forgotten.
"Come on, kiddo, we gotta get you off to camp!" I exclaimed, turning, and walking to the entrance of the hallway.
"Mikey, wait!," she called in a voice overwhelmed with emotion. I stopped and turned back. From the familiar blush on her face and the wild look in her eyes, I knew exactly what she was going to say next.
"Dare me!"
We both overslept until midday, which was probably a good thing. I woke up worrying about the same thing that had been bothering me as I fell asleep. What should I do about Lucy? She seemed to have slept soundly which was good. But that was part of my conundrum. How would she do at cheer camp without her big brother there to comfort her at night? I could picture her in distress every night, crying in her bed all alone while a flood of hormones with nowhere to go wracked her little body.
I had to consider that terrible possibility as I left her snoozing contentedly in my bed and slipped quietly from the room. She stirred when she heard me return from my shower.
"Mmm, good morning, Mikey," she yawned then rolled over on her back with one leg straight and the other slightly bent.
"Morning, Goosey, or should I say, 'good afternoon'," I teased as I, still wrapped in just a towel, stepped beside the bed to greet her. She smiled up at me with her eyes still half closed. It was good to see her smiling and in good spirits. Her ability to control her symptoms was always greatest after good rest and seemed to diminish as the day wore on.
Her night shirt was completely open, laying uselessly on either side of her bare body. "Why is your bed so much more comfortable than mine?" she asked, lifting her arms high above her head and bowing her back in a rather catlike morning stretch. Much of her lithe, naked torso was lifted completely off the bed and her bare breasts strained happily toward the ceiling. Her bubblegum pink nipples stood stiffly upon her pale chest; their tight, wrinkled condition told me everything I needed to know about her diamond factory's current state.
"Don't get too comfortable," I warned. I couldn't afford for her to get in the habit of invading my bed on a regular basis. I would never have any privacy!
As I turned and started walking toward my closet, I felt a tug at my waist and my towel falling away from my body. She had grabbed the hem as I walked away. I turned to see her grinning mischievously and holding my towel in her grasp like a prize.
I was about to reach for it, but then decided not to play her game. She was just trying to get a reaction out of me by goading me into playing tug-of-war with my towel. Well, I wasn't going to give her the pleasure of seeing me humiliated like that.
"Ha-ha, very funny," I said flatly and went about my business as if I didn't care. I felt her eyes studying me as I walked over to the full-length mirror hanging behind my closet and started to comb my hair as if that were an activity I frequently did buck naked and sporting a morning wood.
Towel or no towel, it's not like she hadn't seen it all before. After what happened during and after my dare, she was practically an expert on how my sexual organs worked. Well, that's not entirely accurate. She had seen my seed delivery system do its thing multiple times. But when it came to proper sex, she was still completely clueless. In fact, she hadn't even been through sex-ed in health class yet. We might both still be virgins, but I at least had a theoretical understanding of the act.
She rolled on her side propped up on one elbow. My eyes were drawn down her body to where the line of her tiny waist curved up and over her growing hips. Laying like that made her body look like the curves of an exotic sports car. When did she learn that trick?
I caught myself staring at her body's new trick in the mirror and felt my penis start to throb. I couldn't stop it, so I did the next best thing. I drew as little attention to it as possible in the hopes she would ignore it. Based on her next words, I think she must have noticed it anyway.
"Hey, Mikey, you ever thought about doing another dare?" she asked with a scheming grin. Dr. Alabar would probably argue her actions in that moment were in direct response to her condition. Her urge had been building for a few days. A dare was the conduit for channeling those hormones safely through her system. But without a dare, her chemical imbalance would drive her to more irrational and erratic behavior.
In this case, she was hoping to rope me into another risky situation. I wondered, did dad used to rope mom into similar risky situations? I had gathered some stories about their rocky marriage. Mom was such a pushover. I could totally see dad convincing her with nothing more than some thin excuse and a lot of cajoling to do some very risky things in very few clothes.
Maybe mom finally reached her limit and stood up to dad. Could that be what led to their divorce? I mean, if he couldn't stop his risky behavior, could his illness have driven him to leave her? It was all just a theory. Whatever it was, I was not a pushover. I wasn't about to let Lucy rope me into another dare!
"Not on your life!" I declared, putting my comb away and opening the top drawer of my dresser.
"Aww, come on," she whined as she sat up. She seemed genuinely disappointed that I didn't find any appeal whatsoever in doing another dare. You couldn't pay me to put myself through that ordeal again. So, I guess I really didn't have whatever syndrome was afflicting her.
She stood up with a twinkle in her eye. Her body was driving her to keep trying. "If you do it, I'll make it worth your while," she promised.
Worth my while...where had I heard that before? Wait a minute!
"You really think I'm going to fall for that again? You still owe me for last time," I accused.
That drove a stake in her case and shut her up, at least long enough for me to get dressed. But her condition, impossible to ignore, drove her to speak up again.
"Hey Mikey, can you do me a big favor?" she asked. This time, her voice was softer and much more respectful, which convinced me to at least listen to her request.
"What do you want?"
"Do you think you could, maybe, give me a massage before I leave for camp? I've been under so much stress and I'm still sore from the tryouts. It would really help me relax..." she looked up at me with big, pleading eyes. How could I say "no"?
As soon as I nodded my head, she ran from the room; presumably to retrieve her lotion. I moved my bed covers to one side to clear a spot and sat down. In short order, my naked sister, having shed her night shirt, appeared in the doorway holding the big jar of Riviera Dave's elixir.
She settled into my lap and started squirming immediately, as soon as my hands made first contact with her sensitive breasts. I must admit, I was conflicted about it and don't think I gave it my best effort. Sure, I was giving her what she wanted. But was this what she really needed right before leaving for camp? I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that, without a dare, I might just be priming the pump for her condition to spiral out of control. Even though she whimpered and complained pitifully when I stopped, I insisted on cutting the massage short; using the excuse that she still had chores that needed to get done before she left.
After she reluctantly stomped from the room, I closed the door behind her. Then, looking for advice on how to proceed, I opened the research file I had created about her condition. After reading through everything again, I came to a grim conclusion. I simply couldn't risk leaving Lucy in her current state. It would kill her if I didn’t let her go to camp. But it could also literally kill her if I sent her off without a dare.
The decision weighed heavily on me. I knew, by doing this, I was sentencing her to almost certain embarrassment in front of her new peers. But the danger to her would be much greater if I did nothing. Lucy was strong. She could recover from a little social embarrassment. But if her chemical pathways did not remain open, she could end up doing something to herself from which it is impossible to recover.
Once I had made up my mind to go ahead, I felt a little better. But there was still the question of what form of dare to give her. My initial idea had been to make her spend the entire weekend with no underwear. But now I really thought about it, that didn't sound daring enough to satiate her condition. Dr. Alabar had made it clear. The worst thing I could do when it comes to her treatment is to hold back. Was I holding back? I entertained some more extreme options but didn’t settle on anything. Luckily, I still had a few hours to make my final decision.
A call arrived just after lunch which sent Lucy's anxiety into the stratosphere. A storm system was tracking through the area that evening and Coach Easterling was considering postponing the bus trip until morning so they wouldn't be driving through the worst of it. She left instructions to stand by and promised to call back later that afternoon with a final decision.
You know how much Lucy hates uncertainty. Now imagine an entire afternoon of not knowing when the most anticipated trip of your young life is going to happen. Lucy must have walked several miles that afternoon even though she never left the house. She would come into the living room and demand to check the weather channel radar. Then she would go stare at the phone which was sitting on the kitchen bar and will it to ring.
When that didn't work, she would stalk over to the dining room window which faced west and scan the clear, blue horizon for any sign of gathering clouds. Before long, she was back in the living room demanding I change the channel back to the weather.
Her mood soured along with the sky as the storm clouds began to roll in late afternoon. The originally scheduled time to leave passed with no word from her coach. Seeing how fragile her emotions were, I didn't engage her in talk. In that state, anything I said, good or bad, had the potential to trigger a breakdown. Her eyes welled up on the verge of tears as, with a peal of thunder, the first drops of rain began to sprinkle onto the windowpane.
She was saved from a breakdown at the last possible moment by the ring of the telephone. Miss Easterling had also been watching the weather closely. After the initial cloudburst, the storm front tracking through the area was supposed to diminish into just showers. Everyone was to meet at the school immediately to head to Westfield, only a couple hours behind schedule.
Lucy's scream of elation was drowned out by another crash of thunder as the storm released the bulk of its fury. She ran over and gave me a big hug. The tears that had been threatening to form in the corners of her eyes were wiped way and forgotten.
"Come on, kiddo, we gotta get you off to camp!" I exclaimed, turning, and walking to the entrance of the hallway.
"Mikey, wait!," she called in a voice overwhelmed with emotion. I stopped and turned back. From the familiar blush on her face and the wild look in her eyes, I knew exactly what she was going to say next.
"Dare me!"
Last edited by neverdoubted on Fri Sep 01, 2023 3:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Dare Me - Chapter 15 - Doctor's Orders (Part 10)
Dare Me - Chapter 15 - Doctor's Orders (Part 10)
I had been laying the groundwork for this moment for days. It felt nice not to be scrambling for ideas when she finally said those words. I was more prepared for this dare than any I had ever done. I knew what I had to do. I was at peace and ready to calmly execute the plan.
Of course, you already know which dare I chose to give her. But now that I have explained all the events leading up to that moment, I hope you don't think me a cruel or bad person for doing so. Surely, you can see it for what it was: an act of mercy from a loving, protective brother.
"You want a dare, eh?" I asked, crossing my arms, and sizing her up like a wolf appraising a juicy lamb. She was wearing the assigned traveling outfit, a white tee shirt and athletic shorts along with her white cheer shoes. Every girl would be wearing something similar for the trip to Westfield. Well, everyone but Lucy.
She swallowed nervously, but then nodded. She was already having second thoughts, but knew it was too late to back out now that she had said the words.
"Fine," I exclaimed, "go get your stuff and meet me in the entryway. I have a feeling your camp wardrobe could use some adjustments."
Lucy frowned but left the room without arguing. She didn’t like the idea of me tinkering with her carefully packed suitcase. I went to the entryway to wait. I still shivered every time I walked through that place. Can you blame me after all the humiliating things Lucy put me through in that room?
She joined me a few minutes later. She had to resort to dragging her duffel bag step by step down the stairs because of how full it was. No matter. I didn't intend to let her bring it anyway.
"This is way too much stuff," I complained, "all you really need are the bare necessities. Don't you have something smaller? Like a purse or satchel?"
With an annoyed huff, she trudged back upstairs. While she was gone, I dug around in her duffel, trying to figure out what constituted the essentials. Every time I pulled out a piece of clothing, Dr. Alabar's words echoed loudly in my ears, and I stuffed it back into the duffel. I ended up with just a few pairs of her socks and her toiletries bag. Bare necessities, indeed!
She returned with her arms wrapped around her meager collection of purses and handbags. I chose the smallest one which could still hold the things I had picked out for her to take. She saw me repacking her socks and toiletries into the purse and began to pepper me with questions. But she went silent when I zipped it closed and stood up to address her solemnly.
"Lucy Jenkins," I began in an ominous voice. Her whole body perked up in anticipation. She recognized my tone and held her breath.
"I dare you to only take the contents of this purse with you to cheer camp. You can keep your shoes and socks on, but those clothes have to stay home. Take them off and leave them here, then come meet me in the car."
I figured if I didn't give her a deadline, she would find an excuse to argue. So, I continued, "I'll give you two minutes to get ready. If you're not in the car with your seatbelt buckled by then, I'm driving straight to the school to tell your coach that you won't be able to attend camp. Two minutes or I'm leaving without you!"
I opened the front door and stepped through. When I looked back, I saw her standing in the middle of the room with her eyes fluttering madly. I could practically see her chemical pathways opening up in response to formally receiving her dare. She needed this. It brought me comfort to see evidence that I was doing the right thing.
The thunderstorm had already downgraded to steady showers, but I still had to run to the car to keep from getting soaked. The heavy cloud cover completely blocked the late afternoon sun and made it feel later than it was. I started Mr. Beski's old car - I still thought of it as his even though he had gifted it to me before he died - and checked my watch with an eye on the front door.
I had no doubt that, within the next two minutes, a naked cheerleader with nothing but a woefully undersized pack of essentials would emerge. I could practically picture the frantic scene inside as a very shocked Lucy tried to assess her options, realized she had none, and scrambled out of her clothes as the seconds ticked by.
Sure enough, right on schedule, the front door opened, and my naked sister stepped onto the porch. Thinking this was some sort of test instead of the actual dare, she seemed more concerned about her hair getting wet than the fact that I was taking her to the school parking lot to meet up with her new cheer team without any clothes on.
Her pale, bare, Goosey skin shined like a beacon in the otherwise dreary atmosphere. She slid the thin purse strap over her right shoulder and ran through the rain, sliding into the bench seat of the aging Buick with only seconds to spare.
Per my instructions, she was completely naked except for her white tennis shoes and a cute little pair of white ankle socks. The only other thing she wore, besides an adorable blush, was a white ribbon to hold her blonde hair up in a high ponytail just like Nikki had taught her. What a perfect little cheerleader ready for camp!
As she buckled herself in, I put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway without a word. I'm sure she assumed my threat was a bluff. As far as she knew, I was making it all up on the fly as usual. There's no way I could get away with sending her off to camp in just her shoes and socks, right? She had no idea I had already secretly manipulated her coach into going along with it.
I got to the end of our street and took a right. She must have thought I was going to just circle the block and go back home now that she had proven her willingness to follow my instructions. But at the edge of our neighborhood, when I turned toward our school instead, her eyes went wide with alarm.
"Mikey, where are you going?!" she asked, grabbing my arm as if she was going to physically make me turn the car around.
"I'm dropping you off at the school, duh. The bus for cheer camp is leaving soon."
"But...my suitcase-"
"Is right there," interrupted, pointing to the tiny purse on the seat beside her.
"But Mikeeeee-"
"STOP IT," I ordered, brushing her hand off my arm, "if you didn't notice, it's raining, and I need to focus on staying on the road. You do want to get there in one piece, don't you?"
She didn't answer that question. I'm not sure she wanted to get there at all given her current state of dress. She did stop talking as ordered, but her silence only lasted about a block as she finally processed the remote possibility that I really might be trying to put her on a school bus to cheer camp dressed in her birthday suit.
Then, like a teapot coming to a boil, I heard little distressed squeaks as her panic built. She started squirming and her eyes darted all around the car as her fight or flight preservation instincts kicked in. I can't put my finger on it, but there's just something about a squirming naked girl...
At one point she gripped the door handle as if she was about to throw open the door and make a run for it. If she weren't buckled-in and the car wasn't moving, I think she might have tried to.
When the school parking lot came into view, she suddenly concluded that I wasn't bluffing and started to hyperventilate adorably. I wasn't deterred. I knew how strong she could be when she had to. And like a dose of medicine that tastes terrible going down, she would have to suffer the humiliation of exposure for a little while. But she would feel so much better when it was all over and her diamond factory was working again. This was for her own good. Doctor's orders!
I pulled into a parking spot not far from the yellow bus idling in the drop-off lane. Because we were running late, Miss -sorry, Coach- Easterling ran out to meet us hugging her precious clipboard to her chest. I rolled my window down and waved a casual greeting.
"I'm glad to see you made it, Mr. Jenkins," she said warmly, "everyone else is already on the bus. Lucy is the last girl on my list, and I was starting to worry that you had been - OH MY GOODNESS!"
She cut herself off when she got close enough to see my sister panting naked in the passenger's seat. I jumped out of the car and motioned her to follow me over beneath one of the streetlights that were scattered around the parking lot. "Uh, Miss Easterling, may I talk with you in private for a moment?"
I intended to speak first, before she could utter whatever misgivings she had to be feeling. But she beat me to it. "Mr. Jenkins, this is highly irregular. I simply cannot allow-"
I had to take control of the situation quickly. Using as strong and authoritative a voice as I could muster, I plowed ahead with my prepared remarks as if she weren't even talking.
"I'm afraid Lucy's has begun to experience an episode since we last met and will not be able to wear the attire you had assigned. As we discussed, she can still participate fully with camp with the necessary alterations you have previously approved as prescribed by her doctor."
She looked stunned that I would be so rude as to interrupt her like that. But I was channeling my inner Dr. Alabar. He carried himself with a certain air of authority and wouldn't hesitate to interrupt in such a situation.
I immediately continued, "she's had a lot happen to her in the last few days, you see; with the tryout, then learning that she had made the team, then packing for camp. I think all the excitement disturbed her augeo-biological stimulus-response mechanisms and triggered an acute onset of symptoms. I'm so glad I got the opportunity to meet with you yesterday and explain everything. Thank you for being so accommodating."
"Augeo-bio-," she mumbled in return, "acute...onset?". For someone who was supposedly a teacher of the English language, she sure was struggling to form basic words and sentences.
"As we discussed. Don't tell me you don't remember!" I snapped off my irate reply, crossing my arms and pretending to grow more annoyed at her. I almost broke character and smiled at how well I was doing. Even though she was a teacher, I was treating her like a forgetful student who just couldn't grasp what should have been a simple concept.
"My apologies, sir. Of course, I remember our meeting! I just need to think," she said. Ok, I have to admit, I liked the way she called me "sir" just then. It was kinda hot.
At an impasse and unsure what to do, she looked helplessly at her clipboard for guidance. But the steady rain had turned the papers into a pulpy mess and rendered the ink of her carefully written checklist into illegible blobs. The constant drops landing on her glasses would have made reading it difficult anyway. Finding its original purpose useless, she decided to at least put the wooden board to some use by holding it above her head as a rain shield.
I sensed I had gained the upper hand. I only needed to invoke the Americans with Disabilities Act and I felt like that would seal the deal. But words failed me when I made the mistake of looking down and my horny teenage brain got sidetracked.
"I...uhhhhh..."
Miss Easterling was wearing the same thing she had instructed her team to wear, a pair of athletic shorts and a white tee shirt. She had even put her hair up in a ponytail, something she would never wear to school, probably because it made her look like a teenager. A real coach probably would have anticipated the possibility of bad weather. But she was used to spending her time indoors and had failed to anticipate what heavy rains would do to such an outfit.
Now, with her hands holding the clipboard on top of her head instead of against her chest, I could see the full damage that the rains had done to her top. Heavy drops continually pattered against the front of her large chest, plastering her shirt against her torso, and rendering it nearly transparent. The streetlight above us shined directly through the thin material of her soaked shirt and made the perfect spotlight on her body’s main attraction.
She was wearing a bra, but not a sports bra. So, I could see every vivid detail of her chest, including the impressive cleavage made by her two bulging spheres of flesh. I could also clearly see the size and shape of her cold, wet nipples poking through the lace cups. I had stuttered because I knew every boy in my grade would have given anything to trade places with me in that moment; standing in the rain while Miss Easterling unintentionally flashed me her fantastic rack.
Just then, at the worst possible time, my brain malfunctioned as an incredibly erotic fantasy popped into my head uninvited. It was so good that it would bring me relief later that very night. Here's how it went.
Miss Easterling shows up at my front door dressed in her little camp outfit and dripping from head to toe. With the bus waiting in the street, I invite her inside.
Escorting her into the living room, I interrogate her reason for stopping by our house. Even though we are now inside and out of the rain, she insists on continuing to hold her clipboard on top of her head with both hands while my eyes roam hungrily up and down her shapely figure.
"Why, Miss Easterling, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on your way to camp?" I ask.
"Yes, sir," she replies shyly, "I just needed your help with something first."
She hesitates, clearly embarrassed to ask for what she wants. But I give her a stern look which makes her continue.
"Lucy has been telling me what a great masseuse you are. Do you think...you could, maybe, give me a massage before camp?" she asks hopefully, "I've been under so much stress lately. It would really help me relax."
"Of course! I'll do anything to help out the team," I reply, "but let's get you out of those wet things, first."
She sucks in her breath when I take control, grabbing the hem of her shirt and peeling it up her dainty torso and over her healthy mounds. She does not protest but stands passively while I lift it over her head and off her body.
Next comes her bra. I reach behind her and deftly flick the many latches loose like the expert I am. Even at such a young age, Lucy has given me plenty of chances to practice unhooking bras.
Miss Easterling makes a contented sigh as her massive breasts are finally freed from their cruel confines. After slipping the bra off her arms, she immediately moves the clipboard back to the top of her head. Now that I have her naked from the waist up, I could go ahead and proceed with her breast massage. But for some reason, I reach down and grab the sides of her shorts next.
She does not stop me from sliding them down her curvy legs and even helpfully steps out of them when I get to her feet. Now that she is only wearing her skimpy panties and tennis shoes in front of a student, an embarrassed blush forms on her cheeks and she starts to shift uncomfortably back and forth.
I leave her just long enough to throw her clothes away and grab Lucy's massage lotion, then I'm back in the living room patting the couch as an invitation for her to join me. After the topless cheer coach settles her panty-clad bottom down between my open legs, I scoop out a dollop of lotion and reach around her to begin kneading the tension out of her heavy breasts.
She reacts to my massage exactly like Lucy always does. It starts with contented sighs as stress gradually melts away. But slowly, the sighs morph into cute little whimpers. That's when the squirming starts. Eventually, Miss Easterling, still gripping her clipboard firmly, lets out a surprised gasp.
I'm circling the outer edge of her areolas now, a teasing motion which is driving her wild with need. With my hands cradling her breasts, she twists her torso left and right, actively trying to get my fingers to make the contact her stiff nipples so desperately need. But I'm too good at this game and she is just a novice. She thrusts her needy breasts into my hands repeatedly just like I want her to while her bottom squirms against my excited crotch. But I don't reward her with the stimulation she craves. I always slide my fingers just out of her reach at the last moment.
As her need grows, she cannot control her mouth and begins to utter curses only a well-read English teacher could conjure up.
"Why Miss Easterling," I gently chastise her, "What would your students think of you if they could see you now using such vulgar language?"
I see her face blush thinking about the sight she would make, nearly naked and squirming with need at the unexpectedly skilled hands of a mere student. Just as she tries to utter a coherent response, I finally squeeze her turgid nipples and she can only cry out more blubbering curses.
I hold on for dear life while her whole body shudders in my loving embrace. I give her time to come down from her ecstasy, and when I do finally let go of her boobs, she releases a heavy sigh of satisfaction.
She stands up and turns to face me, "thank you Mr. Jenkins. That was...incredible! I wish there were some way I could repay you."
I point to the only thing left on her body and say, "I suppose I could accept those as payment."
Reluctantly, she agrees to the offer and lowers first one side of her panties, then the other, down her hips and rounded bottom until they are far enough to wiggle out of. Stepping out of them, she picks them off the floor and hands them over to me as blushing payment for her massage.
Just then, the bus honks its horn. Her team is growing impatient. I grab her in the crook of her raised elbow, drag her through the house, out the front door and onto our porch.
"Wait, my clothes!" she cries.
"No time for that," I reply, "your team is waiting for their fearless leader. Have a nice camp!"
When she balks, I give her naked bottom a playful, but firm swat. She yips in surprise, but it gets moving. Still holding her clipboard on top of her head, the naked cheer coach runs out into the pouring rain and scurries onto the waiting bus...
Back in the parking lot, my newly formed fantasy was interrupted when she finally spoke. "Perhaps Lucy just needs some time?" she asked hopefully. Slowly, she nodded in approval of her own idea, as if no one, including Lucy's doctor, had considered trying this before.
"She'll probably feel better in the morning after a good night's rest. Then, if you can get her half-way to Westfield, I can arrange for a bus to meet you. She won't be missing anything, I promise. We're only setting up our bunks tonight and going to bed."
I was grateful that she had been so busy brainstorming that she hadn't noticed me staring at her gorgeous tits. Shaking the fantasy from my head, I lowered my hands to covertly block my erection, then I shook my head grimly, "rest won't do any good, Miss Easterling. Once her episode starts, it always takes at least a few days before her symptoms start to subside. You might as well take her now and save the trip. She won't feel any different tomorrow, or the rest of the weekend."
She took a deep, contemplative breath into her lungs and held it. Then, she shivered as a cool gust of wind washed over us both. I couldn't resist glancing down one last time to marvel how her chest wobbled back and forth from the act. Then she concluded, "well, I suppose, if there's no other way, go ahead and send her to the bus."
Then she was gone, running across the parking lot toward the bus with the clipboard on her head in a manner not too different from my fantasy. Before I took a step, I tried to sear the image of her standing beneath the streetlight in her transparent shirt and high beams into my brain. I was already thinking of the many ways I could use that image in my future pleasure sessions. I had to assume that was the closest I would ever get to seeing Miss Easterling in anything resembling a revealing outfit. How was I supposed to predict that, by the end of the weekend, I would possess something at least twenty-five times better to use as fuel for my fantasies?
The only thing left for me to do was make sure Lucy got on that bus. I climbed back inside our car, dripping wet, and was immediately blitzed by my frantic sister.
"MIKEY, I can't do this. You have to help me! Please let me go back home and get my stuff. I...I just cant! What did you tell Coach Easterling? Is she loaning me a uniform? What is happening?"
I remained calm and refused to answer her. Why engage with her when I already had all the cards? She had forfeited all control and leverage when she said those two little words. She was literally naked and helpless. I knew I wouldn't have to explain myself, or cajole, or offer a deal. I simply had to invoke the dare and she would do the rest. I held up my hand to speak and she held her breath in anticipation.
"Like I already told you, you already have everything you need for this trip. We're not going back to get your stuff and you aren't going to be wearing anything else, so you might as well forget about that."
She started to panic again, gripping the armrest and hyperventilating. She started to say something, but I held my hand up sternly and she held her tongue.
Checking the watch to mark the time, I said, "I'm giving you two minutes to calm yourself down. If you aren't seated on that bus in two minutes, then you will have officially failed your dare, the last one you will ever get from me. It's your choice, but I am not going to discuss it with you. Go, or don't go. Two minutes."
Over the next minute or so, I got to watch in fascination as my naked sister went through several stages of emotion. First, all the color drained from her face, and it looked like she was going to pass out. But slowly, one breath at a time, she got her lungs to behave. She stared blankly at the dash, her eyes fluttering at seemingly random intervals. Her hands opened and closed around nothing, and her mouth moved like she was saying something, but no words came out.
Finally, right at the minute and half mark, she made up her mind, just like I knew she would. The poor naked girl picked up her little purse, the only possession she was allowed to bring with her, and with one last shaky breath, opened the car door.
You would expect a girl to run through the rain to avoid getting wet. But Lucy, filled with dread, could barely make her feet obey the command to take a simple step, much less to run. When she reached the bus, the door swung open wide, and my naked sister looked back at me one last time before disappearing inside.
The End
I had been laying the groundwork for this moment for days. It felt nice not to be scrambling for ideas when she finally said those words. I was more prepared for this dare than any I had ever done. I knew what I had to do. I was at peace and ready to calmly execute the plan.
Of course, you already know which dare I chose to give her. But now that I have explained all the events leading up to that moment, I hope you don't think me a cruel or bad person for doing so. Surely, you can see it for what it was: an act of mercy from a loving, protective brother.
"You want a dare, eh?" I asked, crossing my arms, and sizing her up like a wolf appraising a juicy lamb. She was wearing the assigned traveling outfit, a white tee shirt and athletic shorts along with her white cheer shoes. Every girl would be wearing something similar for the trip to Westfield. Well, everyone but Lucy.
She swallowed nervously, but then nodded. She was already having second thoughts, but knew it was too late to back out now that she had said the words.
"Fine," I exclaimed, "go get your stuff and meet me in the entryway. I have a feeling your camp wardrobe could use some adjustments."
Lucy frowned but left the room without arguing. She didn’t like the idea of me tinkering with her carefully packed suitcase. I went to the entryway to wait. I still shivered every time I walked through that place. Can you blame me after all the humiliating things Lucy put me through in that room?
She joined me a few minutes later. She had to resort to dragging her duffel bag step by step down the stairs because of how full it was. No matter. I didn't intend to let her bring it anyway.
"This is way too much stuff," I complained, "all you really need are the bare necessities. Don't you have something smaller? Like a purse or satchel?"
With an annoyed huff, she trudged back upstairs. While she was gone, I dug around in her duffel, trying to figure out what constituted the essentials. Every time I pulled out a piece of clothing, Dr. Alabar's words echoed loudly in my ears, and I stuffed it back into the duffel. I ended up with just a few pairs of her socks and her toiletries bag. Bare necessities, indeed!
She returned with her arms wrapped around her meager collection of purses and handbags. I chose the smallest one which could still hold the things I had picked out for her to take. She saw me repacking her socks and toiletries into the purse and began to pepper me with questions. But she went silent when I zipped it closed and stood up to address her solemnly.
"Lucy Jenkins," I began in an ominous voice. Her whole body perked up in anticipation. She recognized my tone and held her breath.
"I dare you to only take the contents of this purse with you to cheer camp. You can keep your shoes and socks on, but those clothes have to stay home. Take them off and leave them here, then come meet me in the car."
I figured if I didn't give her a deadline, she would find an excuse to argue. So, I continued, "I'll give you two minutes to get ready. If you're not in the car with your seatbelt buckled by then, I'm driving straight to the school to tell your coach that you won't be able to attend camp. Two minutes or I'm leaving without you!"
I opened the front door and stepped through. When I looked back, I saw her standing in the middle of the room with her eyes fluttering madly. I could practically see her chemical pathways opening up in response to formally receiving her dare. She needed this. It brought me comfort to see evidence that I was doing the right thing.
The thunderstorm had already downgraded to steady showers, but I still had to run to the car to keep from getting soaked. The heavy cloud cover completely blocked the late afternoon sun and made it feel later than it was. I started Mr. Beski's old car - I still thought of it as his even though he had gifted it to me before he died - and checked my watch with an eye on the front door.
I had no doubt that, within the next two minutes, a naked cheerleader with nothing but a woefully undersized pack of essentials would emerge. I could practically picture the frantic scene inside as a very shocked Lucy tried to assess her options, realized she had none, and scrambled out of her clothes as the seconds ticked by.
Sure enough, right on schedule, the front door opened, and my naked sister stepped onto the porch. Thinking this was some sort of test instead of the actual dare, she seemed more concerned about her hair getting wet than the fact that I was taking her to the school parking lot to meet up with her new cheer team without any clothes on.
Her pale, bare, Goosey skin shined like a beacon in the otherwise dreary atmosphere. She slid the thin purse strap over her right shoulder and ran through the rain, sliding into the bench seat of the aging Buick with only seconds to spare.
Per my instructions, she was completely naked except for her white tennis shoes and a cute little pair of white ankle socks. The only other thing she wore, besides an adorable blush, was a white ribbon to hold her blonde hair up in a high ponytail just like Nikki had taught her. What a perfect little cheerleader ready for camp!
As she buckled herself in, I put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway without a word. I'm sure she assumed my threat was a bluff. As far as she knew, I was making it all up on the fly as usual. There's no way I could get away with sending her off to camp in just her shoes and socks, right? She had no idea I had already secretly manipulated her coach into going along with it.
I got to the end of our street and took a right. She must have thought I was going to just circle the block and go back home now that she had proven her willingness to follow my instructions. But at the edge of our neighborhood, when I turned toward our school instead, her eyes went wide with alarm.
"Mikey, where are you going?!" she asked, grabbing my arm as if she was going to physically make me turn the car around.
"I'm dropping you off at the school, duh. The bus for cheer camp is leaving soon."
"But...my suitcase-"
"Is right there," interrupted, pointing to the tiny purse on the seat beside her.
"But Mikeeeee-"
"STOP IT," I ordered, brushing her hand off my arm, "if you didn't notice, it's raining, and I need to focus on staying on the road. You do want to get there in one piece, don't you?"
She didn't answer that question. I'm not sure she wanted to get there at all given her current state of dress. She did stop talking as ordered, but her silence only lasted about a block as she finally processed the remote possibility that I really might be trying to put her on a school bus to cheer camp dressed in her birthday suit.
Then, like a teapot coming to a boil, I heard little distressed squeaks as her panic built. She started squirming and her eyes darted all around the car as her fight or flight preservation instincts kicked in. I can't put my finger on it, but there's just something about a squirming naked girl...
At one point she gripped the door handle as if she was about to throw open the door and make a run for it. If she weren't buckled-in and the car wasn't moving, I think she might have tried to.
When the school parking lot came into view, she suddenly concluded that I wasn't bluffing and started to hyperventilate adorably. I wasn't deterred. I knew how strong she could be when she had to. And like a dose of medicine that tastes terrible going down, she would have to suffer the humiliation of exposure for a little while. But she would feel so much better when it was all over and her diamond factory was working again. This was for her own good. Doctor's orders!
I pulled into a parking spot not far from the yellow bus idling in the drop-off lane. Because we were running late, Miss -sorry, Coach- Easterling ran out to meet us hugging her precious clipboard to her chest. I rolled my window down and waved a casual greeting.
"I'm glad to see you made it, Mr. Jenkins," she said warmly, "everyone else is already on the bus. Lucy is the last girl on my list, and I was starting to worry that you had been - OH MY GOODNESS!"
She cut herself off when she got close enough to see my sister panting naked in the passenger's seat. I jumped out of the car and motioned her to follow me over beneath one of the streetlights that were scattered around the parking lot. "Uh, Miss Easterling, may I talk with you in private for a moment?"
I intended to speak first, before she could utter whatever misgivings she had to be feeling. But she beat me to it. "Mr. Jenkins, this is highly irregular. I simply cannot allow-"
I had to take control of the situation quickly. Using as strong and authoritative a voice as I could muster, I plowed ahead with my prepared remarks as if she weren't even talking.
"I'm afraid Lucy's has begun to experience an episode since we last met and will not be able to wear the attire you had assigned. As we discussed, she can still participate fully with camp with the necessary alterations you have previously approved as prescribed by her doctor."
She looked stunned that I would be so rude as to interrupt her like that. But I was channeling my inner Dr. Alabar. He carried himself with a certain air of authority and wouldn't hesitate to interrupt in such a situation.
I immediately continued, "she's had a lot happen to her in the last few days, you see; with the tryout, then learning that she had made the team, then packing for camp. I think all the excitement disturbed her augeo-biological stimulus-response mechanisms and triggered an acute onset of symptoms. I'm so glad I got the opportunity to meet with you yesterday and explain everything. Thank you for being so accommodating."
"Augeo-bio-," she mumbled in return, "acute...onset?". For someone who was supposedly a teacher of the English language, she sure was struggling to form basic words and sentences.
"As we discussed. Don't tell me you don't remember!" I snapped off my irate reply, crossing my arms and pretending to grow more annoyed at her. I almost broke character and smiled at how well I was doing. Even though she was a teacher, I was treating her like a forgetful student who just couldn't grasp what should have been a simple concept.
"My apologies, sir. Of course, I remember our meeting! I just need to think," she said. Ok, I have to admit, I liked the way she called me "sir" just then. It was kinda hot.
At an impasse and unsure what to do, she looked helplessly at her clipboard for guidance. But the steady rain had turned the papers into a pulpy mess and rendered the ink of her carefully written checklist into illegible blobs. The constant drops landing on her glasses would have made reading it difficult anyway. Finding its original purpose useless, she decided to at least put the wooden board to some use by holding it above her head as a rain shield.
I sensed I had gained the upper hand. I only needed to invoke the Americans with Disabilities Act and I felt like that would seal the deal. But words failed me when I made the mistake of looking down and my horny teenage brain got sidetracked.
"I...uhhhhh..."
Miss Easterling was wearing the same thing she had instructed her team to wear, a pair of athletic shorts and a white tee shirt. She had even put her hair up in a ponytail, something she would never wear to school, probably because it made her look like a teenager. A real coach probably would have anticipated the possibility of bad weather. But she was used to spending her time indoors and had failed to anticipate what heavy rains would do to such an outfit.
Now, with her hands holding the clipboard on top of her head instead of against her chest, I could see the full damage that the rains had done to her top. Heavy drops continually pattered against the front of her large chest, plastering her shirt against her torso, and rendering it nearly transparent. The streetlight above us shined directly through the thin material of her soaked shirt and made the perfect spotlight on her body’s main attraction.
She was wearing a bra, but not a sports bra. So, I could see every vivid detail of her chest, including the impressive cleavage made by her two bulging spheres of flesh. I could also clearly see the size and shape of her cold, wet nipples poking through the lace cups. I had stuttered because I knew every boy in my grade would have given anything to trade places with me in that moment; standing in the rain while Miss Easterling unintentionally flashed me her fantastic rack.
Just then, at the worst possible time, my brain malfunctioned as an incredibly erotic fantasy popped into my head uninvited. It was so good that it would bring me relief later that very night. Here's how it went.
Miss Easterling shows up at my front door dressed in her little camp outfit and dripping from head to toe. With the bus waiting in the street, I invite her inside.
Escorting her into the living room, I interrogate her reason for stopping by our house. Even though we are now inside and out of the rain, she insists on continuing to hold her clipboard on top of her head with both hands while my eyes roam hungrily up and down her shapely figure.
"Why, Miss Easterling, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be on your way to camp?" I ask.
"Yes, sir," she replies shyly, "I just needed your help with something first."
She hesitates, clearly embarrassed to ask for what she wants. But I give her a stern look which makes her continue.
"Lucy has been telling me what a great masseuse you are. Do you think...you could, maybe, give me a massage before camp?" she asks hopefully, "I've been under so much stress lately. It would really help me relax."
"Of course! I'll do anything to help out the team," I reply, "but let's get you out of those wet things, first."
She sucks in her breath when I take control, grabbing the hem of her shirt and peeling it up her dainty torso and over her healthy mounds. She does not protest but stands passively while I lift it over her head and off her body.
Next comes her bra. I reach behind her and deftly flick the many latches loose like the expert I am. Even at such a young age, Lucy has given me plenty of chances to practice unhooking bras.
Miss Easterling makes a contented sigh as her massive breasts are finally freed from their cruel confines. After slipping the bra off her arms, she immediately moves the clipboard back to the top of her head. Now that I have her naked from the waist up, I could go ahead and proceed with her breast massage. But for some reason, I reach down and grab the sides of her shorts next.
She does not stop me from sliding them down her curvy legs and even helpfully steps out of them when I get to her feet. Now that she is only wearing her skimpy panties and tennis shoes in front of a student, an embarrassed blush forms on her cheeks and she starts to shift uncomfortably back and forth.
I leave her just long enough to throw her clothes away and grab Lucy's massage lotion, then I'm back in the living room patting the couch as an invitation for her to join me. After the topless cheer coach settles her panty-clad bottom down between my open legs, I scoop out a dollop of lotion and reach around her to begin kneading the tension out of her heavy breasts.
She reacts to my massage exactly like Lucy always does. It starts with contented sighs as stress gradually melts away. But slowly, the sighs morph into cute little whimpers. That's when the squirming starts. Eventually, Miss Easterling, still gripping her clipboard firmly, lets out a surprised gasp.
I'm circling the outer edge of her areolas now, a teasing motion which is driving her wild with need. With my hands cradling her breasts, she twists her torso left and right, actively trying to get my fingers to make the contact her stiff nipples so desperately need. But I'm too good at this game and she is just a novice. She thrusts her needy breasts into my hands repeatedly just like I want her to while her bottom squirms against my excited crotch. But I don't reward her with the stimulation she craves. I always slide my fingers just out of her reach at the last moment.
As her need grows, she cannot control her mouth and begins to utter curses only a well-read English teacher could conjure up.
"Why Miss Easterling," I gently chastise her, "What would your students think of you if they could see you now using such vulgar language?"
I see her face blush thinking about the sight she would make, nearly naked and squirming with need at the unexpectedly skilled hands of a mere student. Just as she tries to utter a coherent response, I finally squeeze her turgid nipples and she can only cry out more blubbering curses.
I hold on for dear life while her whole body shudders in my loving embrace. I give her time to come down from her ecstasy, and when I do finally let go of her boobs, she releases a heavy sigh of satisfaction.
She stands up and turns to face me, "thank you Mr. Jenkins. That was...incredible! I wish there were some way I could repay you."
I point to the only thing left on her body and say, "I suppose I could accept those as payment."
Reluctantly, she agrees to the offer and lowers first one side of her panties, then the other, down her hips and rounded bottom until they are far enough to wiggle out of. Stepping out of them, she picks them off the floor and hands them over to me as blushing payment for her massage.
Just then, the bus honks its horn. Her team is growing impatient. I grab her in the crook of her raised elbow, drag her through the house, out the front door and onto our porch.
"Wait, my clothes!" she cries.
"No time for that," I reply, "your team is waiting for their fearless leader. Have a nice camp!"
When she balks, I give her naked bottom a playful, but firm swat. She yips in surprise, but it gets moving. Still holding her clipboard on top of her head, the naked cheer coach runs out into the pouring rain and scurries onto the waiting bus...
Back in the parking lot, my newly formed fantasy was interrupted when she finally spoke. "Perhaps Lucy just needs some time?" she asked hopefully. Slowly, she nodded in approval of her own idea, as if no one, including Lucy's doctor, had considered trying this before.
"She'll probably feel better in the morning after a good night's rest. Then, if you can get her half-way to Westfield, I can arrange for a bus to meet you. She won't be missing anything, I promise. We're only setting up our bunks tonight and going to bed."
I was grateful that she had been so busy brainstorming that she hadn't noticed me staring at her gorgeous tits. Shaking the fantasy from my head, I lowered my hands to covertly block my erection, then I shook my head grimly, "rest won't do any good, Miss Easterling. Once her episode starts, it always takes at least a few days before her symptoms start to subside. You might as well take her now and save the trip. She won't feel any different tomorrow, or the rest of the weekend."
She took a deep, contemplative breath into her lungs and held it. Then, she shivered as a cool gust of wind washed over us both. I couldn't resist glancing down one last time to marvel how her chest wobbled back and forth from the act. Then she concluded, "well, I suppose, if there's no other way, go ahead and send her to the bus."
Then she was gone, running across the parking lot toward the bus with the clipboard on her head in a manner not too different from my fantasy. Before I took a step, I tried to sear the image of her standing beneath the streetlight in her transparent shirt and high beams into my brain. I was already thinking of the many ways I could use that image in my future pleasure sessions. I had to assume that was the closest I would ever get to seeing Miss Easterling in anything resembling a revealing outfit. How was I supposed to predict that, by the end of the weekend, I would possess something at least twenty-five times better to use as fuel for my fantasies?
The only thing left for me to do was make sure Lucy got on that bus. I climbed back inside our car, dripping wet, and was immediately blitzed by my frantic sister.
"MIKEY, I can't do this. You have to help me! Please let me go back home and get my stuff. I...I just cant! What did you tell Coach Easterling? Is she loaning me a uniform? What is happening?"
I remained calm and refused to answer her. Why engage with her when I already had all the cards? She had forfeited all control and leverage when she said those two little words. She was literally naked and helpless. I knew I wouldn't have to explain myself, or cajole, or offer a deal. I simply had to invoke the dare and she would do the rest. I held up my hand to speak and she held her breath in anticipation.
"Like I already told you, you already have everything you need for this trip. We're not going back to get your stuff and you aren't going to be wearing anything else, so you might as well forget about that."
She started to panic again, gripping the armrest and hyperventilating. She started to say something, but I held my hand up sternly and she held her tongue.
Checking the watch to mark the time, I said, "I'm giving you two minutes to calm yourself down. If you aren't seated on that bus in two minutes, then you will have officially failed your dare, the last one you will ever get from me. It's your choice, but I am not going to discuss it with you. Go, or don't go. Two minutes."
Over the next minute or so, I got to watch in fascination as my naked sister went through several stages of emotion. First, all the color drained from her face, and it looked like she was going to pass out. But slowly, one breath at a time, she got her lungs to behave. She stared blankly at the dash, her eyes fluttering at seemingly random intervals. Her hands opened and closed around nothing, and her mouth moved like she was saying something, but no words came out.
Finally, right at the minute and half mark, she made up her mind, just like I knew she would. The poor naked girl picked up her little purse, the only possession she was allowed to bring with her, and with one last shaky breath, opened the car door.
You would expect a girl to run through the rain to avoid getting wet. But Lucy, filled with dread, could barely make her feet obey the command to take a simple step, much less to run. When she reached the bus, the door swung open wide, and my naked sister looked back at me one last time before disappearing inside.
The End
Last edited by neverdoubted on Thu Sep 07, 2023 9:47 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Dare Me (new 8/31)
Lol! As the next chapter says, "Wait, what happened at Camp?" Definitely waiting for more!!
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Re: Dare Me (new 8/31)
I only just discovered this story two days ago, and I've blitzed my way through it in the time since. It's utterly brilliant, a combination of fetishes which suit me perfectly and well-written characters who feel human and I empathize with strongly. I love how Lucy is so often kept completely naked, I love how she is often *seen* naked, not just running around with the threat of being seen, and I love how non-malicious Mikey's orders are.
So many stories about stripping and the like are really nasty, with girls being manipulated or coerced into taking their clothes off, but Lucy asks for it each time and Mikey does what he can to keep her safe. I love it when she comes to Mikey for affection - my favourite scene was without a doubt during the lost swimsuit story on the second night, when she curled up in his bed and wrapped his hands around her boobs. Her boob massages, hugs, cheek kisses, and happy smiles give me a rush of endorphins. I hope these siblings get along well forever - as long as they don't cross *that* line! (Sex, of course, ruins sexual tension and warps familial love - although incest can be nice too).
Count me as an enthusiastic fan, I'll be following this story to the end!
I'm adding my voice to the choir begging for a new installment! I do hope the other cheerleaders aren't too cruel to poor naked Lucy, but give her lots of lovely embarrassment to open up those chemical pathways!
So many stories about stripping and the like are really nasty, with girls being manipulated or coerced into taking their clothes off, but Lucy asks for it each time and Mikey does what he can to keep her safe. I love it when she comes to Mikey for affection - my favourite scene was without a doubt during the lost swimsuit story on the second night, when she curled up in his bed and wrapped his hands around her boobs. Her boob massages, hugs, cheek kisses, and happy smiles give me a rush of endorphins. I hope these siblings get along well forever - as long as they don't cross *that* line! (Sex, of course, ruins sexual tension and warps familial love - although incest can be nice too).
Count me as an enthusiastic fan, I'll be following this story to the end!
I'm adding my voice to the choir begging for a new installment! I do hope the other cheerleaders aren't too cruel to poor naked Lucy, but give her lots of lovely embarrassment to open up those chemical pathways!
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Re: Dare Me (new 8/31)
Wow, thank you for your kind words and your analysis! I thrive on such feedback. You have a pretty good handle on the dynamic of the story and a lot of your points are spot-on. As a coming of age story for both Lucy and Mikey, interest in sex is inevitably coming. That doesn't mean they have any desire to cross that line with each other. While they are each on their own journey of sexual exploration and natural curiosity does cause them to turn to each other (someone they trust) from time to time to satisfy their curiosity about the opposite sex, these avenues for experimentation are quite different from genuine sexual attraction. So, I don't think you have anything to worry about there.fuwafuwataimu wrote: ↑Mon Sep 04, 2023 11:24 pm I only just discovered this story two days ago, and I've blitzed my way through it in the time since. It's utterly brilliant, a combination of fetishes which suit me perfectly and well-written characters who feel human and I empathize with strongly. I love how Lucy is so often kept completely naked, I love how she is often *seen* naked, not just running around with the threat of being seen, and I love how non-malicious Mikey's orders are.
So many stories about stripping and the like are really nasty, with girls being manipulated or coerced into taking their clothes off, but Lucy asks for it each time and Mikey does what he can to keep her safe. I love it when she comes to Mikey for affection - my favourite scene was without a doubt during the lost swimsuit story on the second night, when she curled up in his bed and wrapped his hands around her boobs. Her boob massages, hugs, cheek kisses, and happy smiles give me a rush of endorphins. I hope these siblings get along well forever - as long as they don't cross *that* line! (Sex, of course, ruins sexual tension and warps familial love - although incest can be nice too).
Count me as an enthusiastic fan, I'll be following this story to the end!
I'm adding my voice to the choir begging for a new installment! I do hope the other cheerleaders aren't too cruel to poor naked Lucy, but give her lots of lovely embarrassment to open up those chemical pathways!
Your comments about nastiness are also accurate. Too many of these types of stories make the antagonist unnecessarily cruel. I wanted to make it clear that Mikey does have a conscience. He is almost a reluctant antagonist when it comes to Lucy's dares and feels nothing but love and compassion for his sister and her condition. It makes me happy to know people are rooting for them both. I wish I could assure you that nothing bad happens to either of them the rest of the way, that their relationship is never strained, and they grow up to live happily ever after. Unfortunately, a story like that isn't worth telling. I won't spoil it, but there are rough seas ahead.
As for the other girls at camp, well, Mikey may be a compassionate antagonist, but I'm not sure I would trust a bunch of cheerleaders to be nice to any new girl, clothes or no clothes. Some of them do pick on poor Lucy because of her nudity. To that, I can only say, Karma is a bitch
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