The Day My Sister Tricked Me Ch. 03-04

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Fingering

PART THREE

Confronting Sarah…

I walk out of the kitchen and into the hall, high heels left behind, long forgotten. I then remember that I already checked the bedrooms when I was upstairs, and they were all locked. Somehow I doubt my sister would lock herself in. Which means… the only place left to check was the living room.

I approach the living room door, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable I am dressed like this, and how cold and awkward I feel. Up until now, nobody has seen the way I look. It would be majorly embarrassing for me to head in, but how else do I expect to get my key? Screw this, I am going in.

I open up the door tentatively, then realize this isn’t gonna work if I am not demanding and confident. I step right in, close the door behind me somewhat forcefully, and walk into the center of the room before finally absorbing my surroundings.

My sister is right there on the couch. She’s laying back in a comfortable and lazy manner with her feet up, one leg over the other. The TV is on but the volume is low. I think she’s staring at it, but it’s hard to tell because for some reason she’s wearing these obnoxiously large sunglasses. They’re huge, with deep brown lenses and diamante frames. She’s wearing a luxurious light blue housecoat with huge fluffy cuffs. It looks like one of the shorter ones, reaching about half-way down her thigh, but then I realize it’s long at the back only, with extended flowing tails. It looks extremely expensive and extremely soft. Although the housecoat is over the top, I notice her makeup goes for a natural look, her eyebrows dark and perfectly shaped, and her lips looking full but not with crazy colors. Her long fair hair cascades down one shoulder. She’s sitting there like she’s a princess or something, I don’t understand the get-up. Not what I expected to encounter.

“Hmmm” she finally says, as if in thought, and I suddenly realize I have just been standing there like an idiot taking everything in. I try to say something but my voice catches. She seems to ignore me completely, and sighs. While I’m trying to clear my throat, she says in a blasé tone “I could have sworn I ordered breakfast”.

“Screw you!” I blurt. I’m furious, and her breakfast is the least of my worries.

“Oh. Someone’s upset. Did he not cum where you wanted him too?” as she says this she nods towards the crop top, and I am suddenly aware of how suggestive the white mayonnaise stain is. “Yeah, blowjobs can be messy, sweetie” she says with fake sympathy, “but that’s the life of a prostitute, I suppose”. I get flustered and can’t even think of what to say. No words come out of my mouth, let alone a good comeback.

She pulls her glasses down and peers out over them. Her deep blue eyes stare right at me, and a wicked smile creeps over her glossy lips. And I know that smirk is not because of the comment she just made; she’s observing me from head to toe, and enjoying every minute of it. It’s only now that I understand the reality of it all. I’m standing there in a tiny crop top, the bra straps poking out, black thigh-high socks wrapped tightly around my legs and tiny panties squeezing my whole groin area to a comical degree. My face turns a deep shade of red, and I find myself averting my eyes. I completely regret entering the room. Actually, I completely regret ever putting on these clothes. What was I thinking? I should have ripped the very first letter into bits and strutted out of the bathroom naked. I am such an idiot for obeying her for even a second. I just wanna run, but where can I go? Only way I am getting out of this situation is by getting the key.

It’s hard to overcome the embarrassment. “I want my key” I say in small voice, a lot less assertive than I intended. As I said this, I lowered my hands to cover up the word “princess” printed across the panties, because although her glasses were pushed back up again, I noticed her eyes lingered on the panties for a second longer than anywhere else when she scanned me over, and her smile became that bit more smug.

She completely ignores what I said about the key. “Ya know,” she says in a casual tone, “there’s no point in getting dressed up if you’re just gonna cover up the best part of the outfit”.

“Listen, you brat” I say, losing my patience.

She sits up in an instant, straightening up her housecoat in the same movement, and then crosses one leg over the other. She interlocks her fingers and places them neatly over her knee. “Listening!” she says in a peppy voice, with a large mocking smile across her face. “I am a good sister, after all”. For a second I actually think I had authority over her, then I realize she’s making fun of me.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen” I say.

“Of course, explain away!” she said with fake encouragement.

“You’re gonna give me the key for my bedroom door. Right now”.

“Oh, am I? Becau-“

“Stop talking. You’re gonna give me the key, because if you don’t, I will tell Mom and Dad exactly what you made me do. And sure, you can rat me altyazılı porno out for smoking, but you’d get in just as much trouble for this blackmail, easily”.

“Ha!” she responded, her care-free attitude disappearing, “As if you’d tell Mom and Dad that you dressed like a girl. That’s the beauty of this bro, you’d be too embarrassed to tell anyone this story, so you’re gonna comply. And even if you told them, there’s the matter of whether they’d even believe you”.

She was too cocky, but I am ready to put her in her place. I don’t even care how I’m dressed right now.

“Your tasks involve me taking out the trash, meaning I could get spotted by neighbors, friends, who knows. I’d rather just quit following your dumb rules and tell Mom and Dad. I wouldn’t even care if they saw me like this, they’d only feel bad and go get me clothes. Plus, you’d get in SO much trouble. I definitely like that option better”.

Being honest, it was a bit of a bluff. I would hate for anyone to see me like this, including my parents. Plus, if I rat her out she’ll certainly return the favor and let my parents know I smoke. But I’m letting her know I have the upper-hand in some regard, since I can get her in serious trouble too.

“And” I continue, “I have evidence, so they WOULD believe me. The list of chores you left me is an obvious implication of some level of blackmail. They’d start to question why I was doing YOUR jobs, and suddenly my story will fall into place”.

She stares at me through the glasses, or at least I think she does. It’s hard to tell where her eyes are looking, which makes me feel even more self-conscious than I already am. But one thing I can tell is that she is deep in thought. The last thing she wants is to get in trouble, I know that. She’s in over her head and handing me the key is they one way she escapes this scenario unscathed.

“Firstly…” she says. She tries to sound smug, but I caught an element of worry in her tone. She can’t weasel her way out of this. Her next move better involve handing me that damn key.

Her brow furrows. This is it. This is where her plan collapses. She blackmailed me and she regrets it, because now I got dirt on her. If she threatens to expose me as a smoker, I can get her in just as much trouble. She doesn’t want that, so I guess we’re gonna have to call it quits and keep each other’s secrets forever.

Next second, I think I hear a giggle. She looks up at me, and she’s smiling ear to ear. It’s not even a smug smirk anymore, it looks like one of pure delight, with a hint of sympathy, like a parent listening to a toddler telling a nonsense story.

“You…” she giggles again, “You didn’t actually think it was that simple?”

I stare in confusion. What is she trying to pull now? I open my mouth to reply, but she cuts me off.

“What is this?” she asks, holding up her iPhone.

“Your phone, but wha-“

“Exactly. My phone. And do you, by chance, know where it was when you left the bathroom this morning?”

I stare at her silently. What has this got to do with anything?

“It was sitting on the window sill in the hall, outside the bathroom. Do you know what it was doing there?”

She continues before I can even answer.

“It was filming everything that went on in that hallway. Do you think I am dumb? Do you think I would go to so much effort to get you in that outfit (she took a second to look me up and down again) and not get it captured on camera?”

My mind’s racing. She filmed me like this? No way. No fucking way. In a heated reaction, I jump forward and yank the phone out of her hand. I am ready to smash the thing on the floor.

“You can’t do shit with the footage without your phone” I say, holding the phone out of her reach.

She just sits there. If fact, she didn’t even try to stop me when I grabbed the phone from her. “Oh brother, you really underestimate my intelligence. Surely you don’t think the one and only copy is on my phone, do you?”

I feel myself fill with rage. “YOU POSTED THE VIDEO?”

She remains unmoved by my shouting. “No. Not yet, anyway. Let me explain”.

“It’s pretty simple, really. I just made a new OneDrive account, uploaded the video there, then logged out and removed the username and password from my phone entirely. So now it’s safely up in The Cloud, but you have no clue where. And, whenever I feel like it, I can tell someone the log-in details and they can have all the fun they like with it. I might throw it in my groupchat, see what the girls think. And if they think others people should be in on the fun, who am I to stop them? So, it sounds like to me, you’re gonna be doing absolutely everything I say, or potentially the entire world finds out you wore that. And remember, you also smacked that door pretty damn hard, it’s hilarious. The video has so much replay value it’s not even funny”

When she finished her little explanation, she didn’t even look smug about it. She looks so relaxed, as if her power over me was the natural zenci porno order of things. I am pretty sure I was in shock. She stands up for the first time, leans forward and casually slips her iPhone out of my hand. In the moment, I couldn’t even react. “Did you know these things can film in 4K?” she notes, almost at no one in particular, as she studied the phone with mild interest. She struts off out of the room, her long housecoat tails trailing behind her.

“Oh, by the way” she says before she popped out the door, “the high heels were part of the whole look. Don’t reject fashion tips when they’re given too you. Get the heels on, babe.”

****

PART FOUR

****

Fast forward an hour. I indeed had gotten the heels on. I had also gotten rubber gloves on, and I was down on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. She had given me a whole new list of chores, just for my attempt at defying her. “Follow my rules and you will get out of this” she had said, “Disobey and you will only make things worse”. I had no choice but to do what she says. Any solution that popped into my head (I thought of actually breaking my bedroom door down just to get my clothes) was completely useless now, because she had footage of me dressed like this; I must have been outside my bedroom door for a whole five minutes, at least! And I know people would be sure to share the video just for my ridiculous crash into the door. Aided with the fact it’s a video of a guy tricked into wearing his sister’s clothes… it’d be sure to explode on the internet. My life would be ruined.

I tried disobeying her rules and showing her who’s boss when I marched into the living room. And it did NOT work out for me. This time I’m gonna do everything she says, especially now that I’m aware she caught me on camera. I can’t give her any reason to be upset with me.

Scrubbing the floor was one of the last things on her new list. I had already remade her breakfast after she complained about cold coffee and soggy cornflakes. I also had to move all her clothes from the washing machine into the dryer. There were a few things left, including taking out the trash. She hadn’t forgotten about that unfortunately, but I’m trying to put it off.

“You’re doing a bang up job” came her voice from behind me as I brush the kitchen tiles hard with a sponge. I look over my shoulder to see her standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. She was still in her flowing housecoat. “You make a great maid. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think you’re a girl from this angle”.

It was unfortunate, but since I was right down on the floor scrubbing, my butt sorta stuck up in the air in the perfect position for her to see. Wow, I probably did look like a girl from behind. I felt my face go a little red.

“But I must admit” she continues, “You’re doing great. Mom is gonna be so proud of ME when she comes back to see a spotless kitchen”.

I scowl at the thought of her taking credit for my hard work.

“Oh don’t worry” she says, “you’ll get a reward for your chores. I’ve kept all the doors locked and the keys hidden, to make sure you can’t get at any clothing, but…”

She opens up her housecoat, and reveals what she is wearing underneath – a pair of black sporty shorts and a plain white t-shirt. Not half as intricate as the housecoat she has on over them. “Be a good little brother and you’ll earn your way into shorts and a t-shirt. Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

It didn’t sound too bad at all, I thought. They were clearly her clothes, but were plain enough to pass as mine. The shorts were pretty short, but I think they’d look natural on me. The shirt looked baggy, although not that long. I think it’d be okay too.

“And you won’t let people see the video?” I ask. It was bad wearing these uncomfortable clothes, but I couldn’t handle the thought of the world seeing me in them. It was a lot worse than the video of me smoking (wow, I seriously need to check my surroundings from now on to see if I am being filmed, that’s twice I’ve been caught on cam!) because getting into trouble with Mom & Dad doesn’t even scare me anymore, the OneDrive video beats that by a long shot. And as for my sister, getting her into trouble for blackmail is nothing compared to the potentially global-scale dirt she has on me. If I told my parents what she’s doing to me right now, she’d just share the video in revenge. She might get into trouble for it, but I’d be in a MUCH worse situation. That video is all that really matters at this point.

“As long as you do what you’re told, there is no fear of anyone seeing the video” she says, “I promise you that. But, you gotta do all your chores! And next up on the list..” she sticks a leg forward and wiggles her bare toes, “…you’re painting my toenails!”

I roll my eyes. I’m pretty much screwed. She has control over me completely, and she knows it. I’d need to extract the username and password from her mind with some superpower, access aldatma porno the OneDrive and delete the video. Only then would I be off the hook. Until then, I’m her bitch. But whatever, I’ll complete her tasks before noon and be in shorts and a t-shirt before I know it. Besides, Mom & Dad will be back Monday, so Sarah can only boss me around for a weekend at the most. Once they return, she’ll never get away with this kind of thing. She might make me do a few chores here and there, but nothing that can arouse my parents’ suspicion. With that in mind, things don’t seem SO bad.

“No problem, Sarah” I say with a convincing smile. I’m not truly happy about my situation, but I am willing to comply until Monday.

But unsurprisingly, she’s quick enough to wipe that smile off my face; “There’s one other thing” she says, biting her lip as though a little anxious to tell me.

This doesn’t sound good, I can tell. “What is it?” I say in a worried tone.

“Well…”

“Spit it out!”

She says it all in one go: “I think you should do your tasks as soon as humanly possible because, well… I’ve invited friends over and they will be here soon enough, and only when you have your tasks done do you earn these clothes (she opens her housecoat again) and I don’t think you’d want to be wearing what you’re wearing when my friends come ov-“

“That’s too damn far, you bitch!” I blurt. I stand up and let the sopping sponge drop to the floor. “I’m taking no more of this”.

“Oh” she says. She pulls her phone from her housecoat pocket. “What was the password to that account again? Oh yeah! Hmmmm, who should I tell first? I think Rose will get a kick out of it”

“No, please don’t!” I say. “Fine, I’ll do your damn chores. When are they coming over?”

“You have about two hours” she says, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“No problem, everything will be done” I say, before going back down on my knees to scrub.

“Oh, no!” she says “You don’t get to call me a bitch and get away with it. Stand up. Now.”

Given that she was just a text a way from embarrassing me beyond measure a few seconds ago, I decide to comply. “Fine” I say “What do I have to do? More chores?”

“No. My clothes are in the dryer, right?”

I couldn’t tell where she was going with this. It was true, I had put all her dumb panties and bras in the dryer. “Yeah, so?”

“We have to work on that attitude of yours,” she notes. “But right now, I want you to go over to the dryer”

I do as she says. “Now open up the dryer, and reach in. But don’t look inside!”

Turning my head away so I don’t see, I put my hand in and end up feeling the clothes inside. They’re almost completely dry. “OK, now what?”

“Have a good feel around,” she tells me. “Grab one piece of clothing. Any one you want, I don’t care”

I move my hand around inside. I feel rough frilly bits and smooth silky materials, but I can’t identify anything in particular in the tangled mess. Plus, I have no idea what this is even about, so I just grip one piece of material between my fingers and say “Sure, I got something”.

“Good” she says, and I see that wicked smile on her face again. “You’re going to remove the piece of clothing you’re holding and, no matter what it is, you’re going to wear it”.

***

My face had turned red on several occasions that day, but right now it turned white as snow. Images of her skimpy lingerie began to fill my mind. Pink, black, purple, red. Frilly, lacy. See-through! I’m supposed to be working my way into clothes that cover me more, not cover me less! “You’re not serious!” I say to my sister.

“Oh, but I am” she responds calmly, patiently waiting.

I start thinking of a way to get out of this. I have no idea what piece of clothing I am hanging onto right now, because my hand is still inside the dryer. Now that I know what it will be used for, I think about letting go of it and searching for something else. But literally every item is a horrible option. I know because I had to sort through them, one by one. Whatever I am holding in my hand is about as good (and as bad) as it gets. “What happens if it’s bra?” I say, trying to stall for time, “I’m already wearing a bra…”

“If it’s a bra, then you replace the one you have on you. If it’s underwear, then you replace the ones you have on you. If it’s a one piece set, then you lose both the bra and underwear for the one piece set. Jesus, it’s not rocket science! Now take your hand out!”

Still, I hesitated. I don’t want this to happen. Then my sister reminds me of my situation, and begins to reach into her pocket for her phone.

“Fine, I’ll do it!” I say, and I yank my hand from the dryer.

My face is still turned away. I’m too afraid to look. I study my sister’s face as she stares at what I pulled out. She usually does a good job at acting cool and collected, but this time I could see in her face that she struggled to contain a mixture of delight and shock. Her mouth hangs open and her lips threaten to curl into a smile of second-hand embarrassment, as if she had just witnessed someone making a fool of themselves and tried to politely contain herself. She lets out a quick laugh, then raises her hand to lower her shades. Her eyes are wide. She laughs some more.

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