Dare Me (new 7/29)

[Themarble]

I agree with Teenfan whatever excites you should be the next thing you do, so on anf so forth. I myself would love to see a thornwood continuing here as I just have had that story in my own mind for so long but you promised already and that satisfies my own desire for now, plus I can always read it again and again, just no climax to the story. It's like a mini-wait(bate).

I think if there are tags infront of a story it should be ok, and like teenfan said, if in doubt check with the admin.

Also, with Thornwood, perhaps you could make a new topic on here and post the story, from part 1, chapter by chapter. It could be whenever you don't have anything particular to post and such, it would also draw on new people and then when you catch up, then you could continue it from there.

Whatever you do ND, I will be glady waiting to read it.

[jojo12026]

IWhatever you do ND, I will be glady waiting to read it.

I agree with Themarble above. I absolutelutely love Lucy and her dares. I am interested in learning more about Caroline, and would like to see a conclusion to Thornwood. Whatever you dole out I will be there waiting.There is plenty of explicitness (sp) on this board. If people dont like it they wont read it So, I would not worry about that.

[fuwafuwataimu]

I generally think that this kind of writing is fueled by passion - so you should write whatever makes you feel the most passionate. If you were to ask me... I love Lucy as a character and the themes and fetishes of Dare Me, so I'm personally most interested in a new chapter of this story, whatever it was to contain.

But I will be sure to read whatever you write!

[perseus]

Great end to this arc!

On the other things you mentioned, I am bummed to hear that the Ghetto Carnival will not come out, the name alone peaked my interest. But i understand your reasons for wanting to move on. I hope to one day read it though.

I would definitely encourage you to post "big sister, littler sister, " even if you think it doesn't fit the board. there have been other stories that have been posted here that haven't been strictly ENF, some that have been very popular. I don't think anyone would mind that it doesn't have a dare in it, for myself, I'd keep reading about Lucy even if she never asked for another dare ever again.

I'm very much looking forward to whatever you write next and am very excited to hear that you have many other ideas! If i had my pick, it would be to see what happens next to poor confused Caroline, but whatever you end up doing I'm sure it will be great!

Thank you for this story, its been a hell of a ride!

[student]

I was hoping that Big Sister/ Little Sister would result in the cheerleading squad to practice in the nude. Coach Easterling would follow from the front in order to lead by example and sometimes the cheerleading squad would perform nude. All future cheerleader candidates would undergo nude initiation. Perhaps in the future...

That would be a different story from Dare Me. Perhaps Lucy could dare her big sister to practice in the nude. Perhaps the cheer squad would remove clothing during a game when their team scored a point and put on more clothing when the opposing team scored. When their team was too many points behind, the cheer squad would make nuns or traditional Islamic women look naked--to include silencing their cheers, sitting immobile, and even vanishing should their team be too far behind. When their team was far ahead, the cheerleaders would be totally nude and animated. Simple carrot and stick approach. Might even mingle the cheerleaders with the players in the locker room.

[gitev51776]

I agree with Teenfan whatever excites you should be the next thing you do, so on anf so forth. I myself would love to see a thornwood continuing here as I just have had that story in my own mind for so long but you promised already and that satisfies my own desire for now, plus I can always read it again and again, just no climax to the story. It's like a mini-wait(bate).

Also, with Thornwood, perhaps you could make a new topic on here and post the story, from part 1, chapter by chapter. It could be whenever you don't have anything particular to post and such, it would also draw on new people and then when you catch up, then you could continue it from there.

I second this. Thornwood is what got me into the genre. Would love to see it continue

[Themarble]

I hope we have an update from any one of NeverDoubted's stories soon. I have been missing them...

[neverdoubted]

Friday!

[student]

Thank you!

[neverdoubted]

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Author's Note: the following chapter contains explicit sexual depictions. If that's not what you're here for, I would advise you to move along. You have been warned!
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Dare Me - Chapter 17 - Little Sister, Big Sister (Part 1)

One of the required classes in eighth grade was College and Career Readiness. I couldn't imagine myself going to college. My grades weren't good enough and we could never afford it anyway. But it did get me thinking more about my future. Whatever I did, I promised myself I wouldn't get stuck lacking critical job skills and at the whim of my employer like my mother.

From a relationship perspective, I was also getting older and starting to think more seriously about dating. Having never even been on a real date, I jealously watched many of my friends and classmates pairing up and wished I could figure out how they did it so I could join them.

Naturally, I approached the problem the only way I knew how, by treating it like a research project. I was always good at gathering and analyzing data. Visiting the library, I coalesced my best theories of what makes girls tick and what I could do to make myself more appealing to them. With one living in my own home, I really should have tapped Lucy for information about how to attract pretty girls - you know, what they like and all that junk. But I think I was just too proud to ask my little sister for relationship advice.

So determined was I to attract a girlfriend, I even started a master list of all the girls I found at all attractive at my school. I secretly christened it my "Big Board of Babes". And because I was perpetually horny, I spent way more time studying and fantasizing over it when I should have been doing homework.

Anyone who I knew was already dating someone, I put into a separate category while girls who were still single went into another. You can imagine how much time it took to keep those two groups accurate and up to date. But I wasn't finished. I was having so much fun organizing the data that I kind of got carried away with it. Pretty soon, my little side project had spawned multiple lists with girls grouped by all kinds of attributes and categories.

I had a list for all the cheerleaders, and one for each hair color. Any girl who ever showed me attention or interest, whether a smile in the hall or a friendly word in class, would be put in the "interested" group.

I will even admit, I ranked them by boob size. Call me a creep if you want, but don't pretend every other boy in the school hadn't made the exact same list in their head. They just didn't bother to write it down. If you're wondering, the top two on that list were both freshman cheer captains, Kerri Connors and Tiffany Lennox. That contest was so close that I had to keep flip-flopping their ranking as I collected more evidence. But perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself.

It got so bad that even as I was walking to class, I would catch myself studying the girls in the halls and dreaming up more categories and rankings. I could have done clothing and shoes, hairstyles, skin color, height, mannerisms, booty size. But, having already reached the limit on my ability to maintain the big board, I had to stop myself from making any more lists.

Part of the problem was its inefficiency because of the analog way it was built. It would have been much better to do on a computer program, but I didn't have the slightest clue how to operate computers. Our school had a bunch and there was a computer room at the public library. But I always walked right past it without a second glance. And I never considered the possibility that we would ever own one in our house. We weren't millionaires or scientists!

You would think all that work and data I collected would result in some promising girlfriend prospects. But data by itself does not automatically yield success. You have to know how to use it, make a plan of execution, and follow through. I had only done the first part.

So, still a horny, single virgin, my pathetic desperation only grew over the first month of school. Have you ever had that sinking feeling - perhaps following a significant personal achievement or notable age milestone - when it just feels like your whole life has already peaked and is on an irreversible downward trajectory?

For me, that's what the start of eighth grade felt like. The worst part? I hadn't even gotten to experience that personal achievement or milestone. I just woke up one day and sensed myself falling behind my peers in every category. While I never was an outstanding student, I did generally keep my GPA above average. But that year, my grades really suffered; dropping in every class while assignments that other students could understand only confounded me.

When I showed up to basketball tryouts, I was shocked how many boys had gained ground on me over the summer. I still made the team, but my playing time prospects took a huge hit as, no longer among the tallest, I struggled to adjust to the third string small forward position to which I was relegated.

Then there was my aforementioned personal life. Despite all my studious research, girls were just not interested in me. Why? Here is my official analysis.

I was poor. Anyone could tell from the way I dressed, the shoes I wore, and the free school lunches I received, that I didn't have any money. It didn't help that I had failed to secure a summer job and every dollar mom made was going into maintaining the house and feeding us.

That led to a distinct lack of confidence which was exacerbated by my already shy personality. While I did grow out of a lot of that shyness and insecurity as I got older, my junior high years were particularly rough in that respect. You would never find young Mike Jenkins engaged in charming conversation with a pretty girl at that age.

I also suffered from an acute lack of self-control when it comes to sexual thoughts and fantasies. Every time I got around a pretty girl, I often had this slightly creepy look on my face like I was undressing her with my mind and deciding if her ranking needed to move up or down on my big board. That's because I usually was.

My inability to concentrate because of my hormones probably contributed to my failing grades. It didn't help that I happened to be put into Miss Easterling's English class that year. Yes, I had a list for teachers, too, and she was at the very top. I'm pretty sure I didn't learn a single thing about English because I spent the whole year reliving the image of her standing in the rain with her high beams on under her shirt.

If you don't already know, girls can smell desperation. And it repulses them. With my social life in shambles, my self-confidence at an all-time low, and no prospects on the horizon, I had to face reality. I was officially a loser.

Lucy's experience at the start of school couldn't have been more different than mine. Within weeks, she managed a graceful transition from elementary school to junior high and was already making a name for herself among the student body. And because we were in the same building for the first time in two years, I was stuck front and center watching her excel.

If you want to know how far her reputation had spread, one day, we were given a group assignment in Civics class. My group consisted of two girls I had known since elementary school and a boy we didn't really know because his family had just moved from California. His name was Daniel Park and he was half Korean, but spoke English just as well as anyone else.

He was a cool kid and we hit it off almost immediately. Although, my first impression of him, by no fault of his own, left a bitter taste in my mouth. After the girls, who were just regular girls, not cheerleaders or anything, introduced themselves to Daniel, I told him my name and held out my hand.

"Jenkins!" he said, shaking my hand eagerly, "like Lucy Jenkins? Is she your sister? She's so hot!"

I nodded my head as my shoulders slumped. It was official. In less than a month, my little sister had surpassed me in popularity in my own school. I might as well get a shirt made that says, "Lucy's brother".

With football season in full swing, the precious few seventh graders who had made the cheer team enjoyed magnified popularity. At the first pep rally, Lucy, and her friends, proudly beaming from ear to ear, joined the other cheerleaders on the court. The team performed a short routine. The perky girls chanted and twirled in unison like they had practiced. Lucy wiggled her hips enthusiastically, causing her cute little pleated skirt to bounce up and down to the beat and drawing more than her fair share of interest from the boys in the bleachers.

It was the first time seeing them all together in their uniforms, and I was using the opportunity to mentally update my cheerleader rankings. After their routine, they stood at parade rest while the football coach came up to make a rousing speech about the upcoming season. That's when I noticed something exceedingly funny happening all up and down the line of perky cheerleaders.

Something was...plaguing them. It was subtle, but once you saw it, you noticed it over and over. Every few seconds, if you watched closely, you could catch one of them...scratching herself...down there. Immediately, I knew what was causing their irritation. From personal experience, I knew how itchy things can get when your shaved pubes start to grow back in. From what Lucy had told me about camp, every single cheerleader was dealing with that exact same problem.

Every girl in the squad spent the rest of the pep rally squirming where she stood, and only I knew why. They were all trying to conceal the fact that their little, bald pussies were itching madly as new hairs started to sprout!

Unfortunately, that just got me thinking about all the stories Lucy had told me about cheer camp. By the end of the pep rally, erotic fantasies were swirling around in my head, and I was sporting another painful erection.

Of course, Lucy would choose that exact moment to introduce me to her new friends, Alice, and Hanna. I stood there like an idiot, holding my shirt down over my crotch and bending over slightly to minimize the effect and to keep from flashing something inappropriate while two pretty cheerleaders made googly eyes at me.

Up to that point, my big board had only contained girls in eighth and ninth grade. Lowering yourself to date a sevie was generally frowned upon and would open yourself to merciless mocking by your peers. How was that any different than a freshman lowering herself to date me? I don't know. Don't even start trying to understand that double-standard! After meeting Alice and Hanna, I immediately added them to my board anyway. I figured my friends would make an exception to the “no sevies” rule if she was a genuine cheerleader.

Because they talked to each other constantly via phone calls, I had overheard some of Lucy's conversations with them. I had to put Alice on the "already dating" section of my board because I knew she had re-established contact with Rooster's grandson whom she had met at camp. She was attempting to pull off the doubly difficult feat of maintaining a long-distance relationship while also keeping it a secret from her parents. True or not, she did not consider herself single, so I couldn't either. But Hanna had no such attachment to Rooster's grandsons and remained on the "available" list.

The first few weeks of school, Hanna found plenty of excuses to hang out at our house. A compact ball of energy, she never stopped moving. I thought it was cute the way her tight curls bounced playfully around her expressive, always smiling, face as her head bobbed with continuous excitement.

She had emerald-green eyes which sparkled when she looked at you. In my case, that happened frequently. She had this adorable habit of blinking twice whenever I made eye contact with her, inadvertently batting her eyelashes at me. Then she would smile so big and raise her eyebrows hopefully. Like an eager puppy begging for a pet, if she had a tail, it would have been wagging like crazy. And when it comes to petting, well, I'm getting ahead of myself. She didn't have to bat her eyes at me more than twice to get me to make a revision to my board and move the perky redhead several spots up my list.

Even though she was technically older than Lucy, because she was slightly smaller and followed Lucy around everywhere copying her, it felt like Hanna was Lucy's little sister, the one she never had. When they weren't doing their homework together or hanging out in Lucy's room, the girls spent much of their time working on cheer routines in the backyard. One day, near the end of September, the last real heat wave of the year arrived and drove the girls inside. I was in the living room minding my own business when Lucy rounded the corner.

"Hey, we need to use the living room," she said, "it's too hot outside. Do you mind?"

Our air conditioner had grown progressively less effective as the summer wore on. It wasn't our only major home system on its last legs, but it was high on my list to replace before spring, if we could somehow figure out how to pay for it. For now, our old one did barely keep the inside of the house cooler than outside.

We didn't have another tv in the house, so invading the living room right in the middle of the show I was watching was an inconvenience. But honestly, I wasn't following it that closely. So, I shrugged my shoulders and said, "whatever".

"Thanks, Mikey," she said happily before waving at Hanna, who had apparently been standing in the hallway, to join her.

"Yeah, thanks, Mikey," giggled Hanna, repeating the childish nickname only my sister ever used for me anymore, and stepping shyly into the room.

She was wearing a baggy, oversized t-shirt. The rational side of my brain knew she must also have shorts on. But because I couldn't quite see them under her long shirt hem, it was easy for the hormone-addled portion of my brain to imagine her bottomless.

Since she had been doing it all summer to practice for tryouts, Lucy knew how to move the furniture to maximize the space. When my show came back from its commercial break, I divided my attention between it and Hanna's shapely, bare legs.

They were smooth but subtly toned. There's no way a girl like her who remained in constant motion wouldn't develop strong leg muscles. Her creamy thighs looked enticingly soft whenever she relaxed them only to flex taut in a flash as she made another enthusiastic motion.

Engaging in a rather enjoyable game of peek-a-boo, my keen eye was able to detect and identify the skimpy pair of athletic shorts she was indeed hiding beneath her shirt. They were red with white trim. The shade complimented her hair nicely and formed a stark contrast to the creamy white of her busy thighs.

At one point, a cheer called for them to raise their pom-poms above their heads. Hanna strained up on the toes of her tennis shoes and stretched out her arms as high as they would go, like she was trying to touch the ceiling. I enjoyed seeing her use every muscle in her strong legs and calves to hold her up. With the shirt riding up considerably and showing off the backside of her shorts, I could even tell the tight muscles of her athletic bottom were employed in the effort to gain every last inch of height.

Sadly, she soon came down from the pose and her cute little shorts disappeared from view once again. I stared at her legs, pining for her to rise up again and give me another enticing peek. But instead, she turned suddenly and looked my way. Knowing I had been caught looking at her while she practiced, I quickly switched my gaze back to the tv. With three bodies, I felt the room growing uncomfortably warm. The heat on my neck from a subtle blush didn't help matters.

I was more careful and took fewer, less overt glances after that. After their routines, they switched to tumbling practice. To keep from hitting anything, they had to do them in the middle of the room. Since that put them literally between me and the tv, I couldn't avoid watching.

Hanna had exceptional body awareness and control and could perform effortless cartwheels and walkovers. She could even do things, like backflips and aerials, which were too advanced for Lucy. I think it bothered Lucy that she couldn't replicate Hanna's feats. But, then again, Lucy had never taken formal gymnastics lessons. At least she could take pride in being the official cheer camp head standing champ.

Whenever Hanna landed a trick, she raised her hands in the air and stuck out her chest like a true gymnast. The pose renewed my interest in her body. Wearing a shapeless, oversized t-shirt had served to mask every enticing curve she possessed beyond just her cute legs. But upon closer inspection, maybe the shirt wasn't as totally shapeless as I originally thought.

Hanna hadn't been wearing training bras for very long. Developmentally, she was a little behind my sister in that department. But I was well acquainted with how rapidly a girl's shape and contours can change at that age. And the month since cheer camp had been especially good to her bulging swells. Did her exposure to Dave's mystical growth serum have something to do with that? I can't say for sure, but you never know.

As she cartwheeled past me, I saw her shirt ride up to reveal her taut tummy and thought to myself, "it's too bad she doesn't do dares like Lucy. The very first thing I would dare her to do is take that damned shirt off!"

I didn't seriously expect anything to happen. After all, I had been silently wishing for girls to take their clothes off around me ever since I hit puberty. But such devious, hormone-driven dreams rarely come true. I would say my success rate with such wishes was well below one hundredth of a percent. But it wasn't zero. And like a degenerate gambler, even the rarest win in a sea of losses was enough to keep me coming back and playing the game.

Today just so happened to be my lucky day. With two active girls in a confined space, plus myself, the temperature in the room had been steadily climbing. Lucy started fanning herself with her shirt to lower her core temperature. A few seconds later, she decided that wasn't effective enough, and took her shirt all the way off. She threw it on the couch beside me, leaving her in just a bra and shorts. Having seen her wearing much less than that, I wasn't scandalized and didn't really react.

But my eyes perked up when Hanna followed her lead and started fanning herself with her shirt. It's exactly the sort of thing a little sister would do. But did that also mean she was about to take her shirt off?

Hoping against hope, I pushed all my chips in and bet everything on red. I tried not to spook her. Holding my breath, I kept my eyes trained intently on the tv, but all my attention was really on her. The tv could have caught fire just then and I wouldn't have noticed.

After a few more seconds of fanning, to my masked elation, she withdrew her arms into the sleeves and began to lift her shirt up over her head. It took an inhuman level of self-control for me not to look over as her naked torso was slowly revealed.

Sensing the shirt obscuring her face, I dared a quick glance and was rewarded with the pale, white flesh of her narrowing midsection. A tiny, even brighter, white stripe of fabric ran across her back. In contrast to Lucy's modest, supportive bra, Hanna appeared to have only the tiniest, beginner's camisole.

I felt a familiar stirring in my loins and swallowed hard. The safest thing to do at that moment would have been to excuse myself and get out of there before what was going on between my legs had a chance to take over. But I was at a disadvantage in that struggle because of an unusual, and very embarrassing personal problem that I had been dealing with for some time.

You see, ever since an especially humiliating encounter with a young woman named Mel and her attractive, and very trusting cousins (it's a long story, don't ask), my body had been malfunctioning in unexpected and mildly distressing ways. Whenever I tried to masturbate, if I wasn't careful, my mind would retreat into an insulated, inner cocoon of safety. I found, once my body had entered this state of Zen, that I was unable to coax out an orgasm no matter how hard I tried. The only option was to give up and try again later.

At first, it had only been an occasional occurrence. But alarmingly, it gradually happened more and more until only one attempt in twenty was successful. The others only left me hornier and more frustrated than when I started.

Unable to dissipate my arousal in the manner I was used to, my libido was prone to wresting control of my body more than any other time in my life and refusing to let go. Besides the frequent, embarrassing erections at the worst possible moments, my thought would also run rampant with erotic fantasies.

Those thoughts filled my head as Hanna took a step toward me, probably intending to toss her shirt onto the couch like Lucy had done. The flimsy material of her bra, if you could call it that, was made from a thin layer of soft cotton. There was absolutely no padding in the cups, and you didn't have to squint to make out the shape of her breasts cradled inside the soft pouches.

It was all white except for a tiny, pink ribbon tied into a bow and sewed into the midpoint. A narrow strip of fabric, no wider than your finger, ran over her shoulders to match the one wrapped around her back. Tossing her shirt onto the couch like Lucy had done, she went back to tumbling. I sat enraptured as she spent the rest of the time, until her mom showed up to take her home, in just a skimpy bra. That very night, I revised my board again and moved her to the first page.