The Day My Sister Tricked Me Ch. 09-10

The Day My Sister Tricked Me Ch. 09-10

Part 9:

Great, she's interested in money. I wish I had figured that out a lot sooner. Knowing she won't let me back into my room, I start thinking about where I might have left cash lying around. Surely I can come up with what she wants easily enough.

"So, what'll it be?" I ask, trying to remember where my wallet is. "What do you want, 20? 30 dollars?"

She stares at me a moment, then bursts out laughing.

"What's so funny?" I think, and then voice the question a second after.

Sarah can barely control herself. "You wouldn't get my bloody sock for 20 dollars!"

"What are you talking about? Fine, if your shorts and shirt are worth more than 30, I'm sorry. What did they cost you? I'll pay it".

"Oh, dear brother" she says, with a smile that told me she was really going to enjoy what she was about to tell me. "It's not about how much they cost me, it's about how much you want them".

That did not sound good. I sigh. "How much? Just tell me".

"Well, for the top I'm thinking three hundred, and the shorts will cost you-"


"Bro," she says, stifling a chuckle, "you have about 10 minutes before my friends arrive. Do you want the clothes or not?"

I don't even need to glance down at the outfit I am in to know how humiliating it is. "I don't even have that kinda money..." I try to argue.

"Yes, you do" she quickly retorts. "You've been saving for quite some time, haven't you? For some shitty Play Station or something?"

Fuck, she knows. I've been putting money aside for months for a gaming PC, not a play station, not that that matters. What matters right now is whether I am willing to lose it all just to save myself the embarrassment. "I don't have that much saved," I try to bluff.

"Yes, you do" she repeats, clearly losing patience. I suddenly get weary of the aggression creeping into her tone. "You said you need like a thousands dollars and you said you were more than halfway there"

Wow, she remembers this with surprising accuracy; I had 570 dollars saved up in my bank last time I checked. I am impressed by her memory, and for a second it shows on my face. Damn it, there's no point in denying it now. "Sarah, the kind of money you're asking for-"

"400," she interrupts. "400 for both items of clothing. That's the deal I'm gonna cut you. Be grateful it's within your budget"

"That's most of my savings!"

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll be back for the rest of it eventually," she quips. "Right now though, you need to make a decision, and fast. Make up your mind: do you wanna be down 400 dollars or be seen looking like a street-corner prostitute in front of Jessica, Rose, Kate, Danny, Eugene and Trevon?

Oh my... I had panicked all this time about her friends calling over, but I never once thought it would be that many people. I had pictured two of her girl friends giggling at me or something. But ALL these people? And who the hell were the guys she mentioned? My mind's racing all over again. It sounds like she's planning a party. This time, I don't let my emotions (in this case, panic) show on my face. Besides, she's not allowed to have guys over, I suddenly remember. That's a strict rule from Dad. So at the end of all this I will end up with even more dirt on her, and I won't easily forget it. Feeling smug, I echo her insult, "Street-corner prostitute, you say? That's funny because their YOUR clothes, so you just called yourself a prostitute".

Maybe it was stupid to have said that, but a boldness had taken hold of me once I realized she was sneaking guys over behind Dad's back. And by acting cocky like this, I was calling her bluff. I was pushing back and seeing if she really was going to be as mean as she said, and expose me on front of her friends. I had a hunch that she would draw the line once it involved more people; so far, her games have just been between her and me, and I have a feeling she wouldn't really be cruel enough to let anyone see me like this.

But Sarah keeps her cool and simply updates her terms. "500," she says, casually. She stands up as if to confront me on the disputed details of the deal.

"What? No, please! Sarah, I was joking!"

"You want me to to keep going up? to 600? 700? Because if it exceeds your budget and you can't pay then you don't get the clothes, and that's not my fucking problem".

I look at her a moment, not yet knowing what to say. I called her bluff and it cost me a hundred dollars! Do I dare reject her deal and risk being exposed? No way... "500," I say in agreement. And I know I have to obey her.

"Finally!" Sarah says. "You are such a slow learner".

"Ain't that the truth?" I think miserably. I better just do as she says from now on.

She glances at her phone for a second. "OK, cool. Jessica just left her house"

I start to panic. Jessica lives about four or five blocks down the road. Let's hope she doesn't have a habit of speed-walking! "Don't act surprised," Sarah says when she sees my face, "I kept telling you they were coming over soon".

I simply eye my sister up and down, with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh, you want these?" She opens her housecoat to show the clothes again, and for once she leaves it hang open. "No-can-do, buddy"

"What!?" I almost scream.

"You still owe me 500 dollars, idiot". As she says this, she steps towards the fireplace, bends down and picks up the nail varnish bottle from the floor. I hadn't even realized it was there; I must have dropped it when she kicked me in the balls, and hadn't noticed in my pain. Thank God it didn't crack open, otherwise I might have been scrubbing floors again. "And," my sister continues as she studies the varnish, standing up again, "don't think I've forgotten either, but you have one more chore, if my memory serves. You never did take out the trash, did you?"

Fuck. That's the one I wanted to avoid. And now I gotta do it when her friends could come round the corner at any moment and see me?

"Sarah, your friends are gonna be here in a matter of minutes, I-"

"Then you better act quickly," she interrupts. "You go take out the trash like a good boy, and I'm gonna go up to your bedroom and get your bankcard. I'll be buying myself a 500 dollar Amazon gift card. Sound good?"

"Sounds amazing," I grunt. It's like she had everything planned to a damn tee, giving me just enough to time to take out the trash. I'll be running around like an idiot until moments before her friends get here. Meanwhile, she just needs to enter the details on the front and back of my bank card to purchase something, so that'll work out nicely for her too. And I'll be too busy outside, half-naked and carrying garbage bags, to try and get into my room when she unlocks my door. Damn, Sarah is quite a force to be reckoned with.

"Well then, you better get going, bro. Unless you want all my friends to see you the way you are?"

Realizing that I'm on the clock and standing around won't help, I turn to dash out of the room. If I had any fears about walking out in public the way I was, I didn't have time to think about them. "Oh, one more thing!" my sister says when I'm halfway out the door. I twist around. "I know you're dressed as a girl, but don't get so caught up in being one that you forget you have a dick". Her eyes dart downwards for a split second, to glimpse between my legs, and a smile spreads across her face.

I look down. I had completely forgotten. Earlier, my cock had bounced out highly erect, and Sarah had pummeled it with her foot. It felt like so long ago, and yet all this time... I hadn't covered the damn thing up. Granted, after being kicked and having ejaculated, my penis seemed to have had gone flaccid not long after, and hadn't grown since. In fact, it was tiny now and slipped all too comfortably between the panties and my left thigh, the two balls and my knob dangling sadly like three small grapes on a vine for all the world to see. It wasn't surprising that I had completely forgotten about my cock; I had never realized it ever got so small. My sister must have known it was outside my panties this the whole time, but I was actually more mad at myself for not realizing.

What kind of man forgets about his own cock? Highly, highly embarrassed, I reach down and take hold of the front of the panties. I stare at my sister silently, and she nods, giving me the go-ahead to cover up. Her smile I now saw was very different, one of sympathy, as if to say "I know I've been cruel, but I'm not so cruel as to let you flaunt that miserable thing". I cover it up as easily as anything, hiding behind the forest green panties as if it didn't even exist. I stare at her another moment, then sprint from the room... more confused than anything else.


Part 10:

Sprinting through the hall to the kitchen, I focus on the task at hand. But the awkward event from moments ago still lingers in the back of my mind. I'm embarrassed and angry. It's one thing for my cock to grow hard and threaten to burst from the little green panties. Embarrassing, sure, but only because it meant I was aroused by my sister. Fucked up in it's own way, but it didn't leave me feeling less... manly. The thing that happened moments before I left the living room was something that didn't feel good to dwell on. My cock, the thing that makes me a man, had dangled on front of my sister for a solid five minutes at least, and I hadn't even noticed. And I had gotten to my knees and performed my "clean-up" during it all too. I can't believe I even did that. What am I, a slut? Getting on my knees and licking up cum and forgetting my cock even exists... "It might as well NOT exist," I think angrily, as I finally reach the trash bags still at the back of the kitchen. My stupid, useless, dangling, flaccid cock. It has given me nothing but trouble, pain and humiliation today, so it can disappear for good for all I care. My day would have been a lot better without it, and maybe my life would have been too. Look how well my sister's living without one... would life have been better if I were born a girl?

I start thinking that it wouldn't have been half as embarrassing if I had been hard and a respectable size, or if I hadn't forgotten my cock was there. Maybe my sister's kick had something to do with it. Maybe the extreme pain (and the fact I had blown my load) had driven all sexual thoughts from my brain, and maybe, in any other case I'd be hard as a rock and fully aware of my manhood. I wouldn't have abandoned the thought of having a cock for some other reason, would I? Why would I do that, make myself forget I had a cock between my legs?

But as I pick up the trash bags, trying to hold all three at once so I don't have to make a second trip, I find myself still confused by the thought. Because, even though her body did turn me on... there was something a little different about the way I had checked out my sister. Now that I think about it, it wasn't like when I check out other girls. Normally my mind would jump to thoughts of grabbing that ass or spreading those legs - I'd imagine the things I'd want do to a body like that - but this time, I didn't think of my cock going anywhere, I didn't think about my cock being in the equation at all. It was more like I... respected the features she was so lucky to have, adored their beauty. Wanted them. I... it's almost as if I envied her body.

"No, that's fucking dumb," I mutter to myself as I struggle out the kitchen door with the three bags. I'm not jealous of my sister's features, what the hell am I thinking? That doesn't even make sense, I can't want a nice round ass... or full smooth lips, or delicate little feet, or perfect skin, or...

I shake my head. I never really sexualized my sister until today, so these new feelings are just a bit weird and confusing, that's all. I find my sister hot, that's fucked up enough, let's not add into the mix some crazy desire to have her body. I have a perfectly fine, usable cock and I'm perfectly happy with my own body. I stomp the rest of the way to the front door, totally used to walking in heels at this stage.


I reach the front door. I haven't got much time, so I don't hesitate. Creaking it open, I peer outside. Thank God, no one around. Let's go.

Despite being used to my shoes by now, I find myself taking tentative steps out, nervous. It's nippy outside and I feel the breeze EVERYWHERE - face, neck, stomach, legs. Even my poor ass gets goosebumps creeping up the skin. But I am just grateful it's not raining, to be honest.

Then, I hear a car zoom down a road somewhere in the far distance, and although it is nowhere near me, it makes me properly realize that I'm out in the open and people could walk, drive, cycle or jog by at any moment. Or the neighbors could glance out the window. And here I am still by the front door in my little panties and stockings! Why couldn't we live in the middle of nowhere, away from prying eyes? I gotta get a move-on. I look down my all-too-long front lawn to where the trash cans are sitting by the our front gate, and instantly I hate my Dad for designing that awkward path that winds the long way around, so as not to cut through the flowerbeds. I don't have time for that route! It'd be ten times faster to dash straight down the garden, it would just be through the flowers. Ah well, I'm willing to stomp on a few lilies and tulips if it gets me back in the door faster. I could do it a few long strides. And so I go!

I practically jump the first row of flowers, sparing the little pink plants. As I progress, I almost crush one low-growing purple-petaled lilac, but pull my leg an inch to the left before my heel landed upon it. The large black bags are spinning and flopping in air as I dash down the garden, but there's no one around to see the ridiculous sight - or so I hope!

Be the time I reach the gate, I'm breathless. I triumphantly plop the bags in the trash cans, catch my breath, and turn to sprint back up the garden. I catch the sound of a car again, and to my demise it sounds a lot closer than the last. But I can't dwell on that now - back through the flowers I go!

It's a little easier now that I've said goodbye to the heavy garbage bags. I didn't destroy any flowers on the way down, so I have no excuse on the way back. I jump past red and blue and pink flowers, tiny and tall, and I'm halfway to the door before I know it. I probably look like an idiot, like I did running to my bedroom the first time I left the bathroom this morning. But I won't be slamming into any door this time!

As I pick up speed with my next huge step, I spot a small empty area of soil, void of any flowers, the perfect place to plant my foot without destroying anything. My heel digs into the empty spot of dirt as I frantically make my way closer to shelter, but when I pull my foot back out to continue on...

You've got to be kidding me. My foot came loose, but the heel remained jammed into the soil. I twist in an attempt to grab it up without stopping, but that was a dumb move and I almost fall face-first into the flowers. Dad would fricking kill me; he's the one who loves the garden. Luckily I catch my balance, although I had to take a few foolish stomping steps through the garden before I finally did. I ended up far from the door and far from the heel which I know I will have to go back and retrieve, but at least I am still on my my feet. "And most importantly," I miserably think, "I didn't kill any of those precious flowers!"

I've lost all momentum from my run and I am now walking with just one heel on, so needless to say I won't exactly be lightning-quick going back for the other one. I weave my way around the tall rose bush which I had almost flattened, and literally tip-toe through the tulips to get the my lost shoe. Wow, might as well make it a glass slipper - this sounds like some twisted fairy tale! The "princess" panties would have worked well here, but I guess forest green is equally poetic... Ugh.

I find myself taking super cautious steps back into the middle of the flowers where my heel is. When I was moving fast it was easy to dodge the flowers, but now I'm finding it difficult to place my feet. When I reach finally reach it, continuously aware of how much time I'm wasting, I see the stiletto is buried its entire six inches in. The ground looks soft though, so I doubt I'll have trouble plucking it back out.

As I bend down to the grab it, I'm confused by a sudden sound of CHIT-CHIT-CHIT-CHIT, CHIT-CHIT-CHIT-CHIT, and before I know it...

...I'm being drenched by sprinklers.

My instant, frightened reaction is to jump away, as if dodging an animal trying to swipe at me. But my primal instinct to get away from danger did me no good, as my legs were already soaked before I even reacted, and the jump back landed me firmly on my ass, right on the soft brown soil. The jets of cold water are now level with my face, and continue to dart at me. I shut my eyes in reaction, and feel like screaming. It's freezing! My crop top eats up the water and is sopping in an instant. And worse than that, beyond the CHIT-CHIT-CHIT-CHIT of the stupid little black sprinkler hiding amongst the roses, I hear the distinct sounds of tires rolling slowly along the asphalt. Just great, a car decides to drive right by our house. And why not, there's a spectacular show going on, isn't there?

I'm on my feet in an instant. I don't care about the damn flowers anymore, so it one gets stomped, tough luck. I spin around and grab the heel, ripping it from the earth with fury. All the while, the approaching car is in the corner of my vision, getting closer. But I can't think about that. I sprint with new-found panic to the front door, still not caring one bit if a plant gets destroyed. I'm a few steps from the door, but the car's practically right outside the garden. Is it slowing down? Who cares! I reach for the handle and push the door open... but as I do, I hear a loud BEEP BEEP BEEP of a car horn, and unbelievably, a wolf-whistle from the driver. I don't look back, I just dive in and slam the door behi

nd me.

Leaning up against the door, huffing, I feel a red flush creep up my neck. Oh my God, that was SO embarrassing! But whoever that was driving by, they sure enjoyed what they saw. Was the excited whistling done jokingly, or did they actually like the view? Because with the way I'm dressed they must have definitely thought I was a girl! How could they not? I look down at my body, my legs wet and glistening, my top damp and clinging tight to me. Did they really see this and get excited? Wow. Although I hate to admit it, I guess I do look awfully feminine, even with short hair. My shoulders aren't broad, my legs are really skinny, I have virtually no body hair. I twist around to get a better look at my body. Jesus, the guy in the car must have been convinced I was a girl because I don't have flat ass by any means. Noticing it's covered in specks of dirt though, I swat it to get the majority of the brown soil off. Surprisingly, it jiggles. A lot more than I ever thought it would. Did it jiggle as I ran up the garden?

I find myself smiling. That's funny, some guy driving down the street thinks he got sight of some skimpy minx taking out her trash. I must have looked like such a women from the back. I can only imagine what thoughts are running through this stranger's mind. Did he see me on the ground, stumbling? I bet he thinks I'm some half-drunk slut on her way home from a party, after forgetting to take her pants with her after being fucked by some dude she barely knows. Considering my outfit, he probably thinks all sorts of crazy shit goes on it this household. Well, as of today, it kinda does! I turn around and take a look through the peephole, back out to the front garden.

Surprisingly, the car was only pulling off now. The window was down too; the driver must have definitely pulled to a stop and got as good a look as he could. As it drove on, I caught a blurry glimpse of the guy. Glasses and balding, he looked to be about thirty but it was hard to tell. It looked like he was the only one in the car. My smile turned to a chuckle at the thought of having actually made this guy stop at the sight of my body! That's hilarious! Damn, tricking people is fun, now I know why my sister does it. That thought brings me back to reality, and I realize I need to find my sister to get out of these clothes once and for all. Before I pull away from the peephole, I annoyingly note that even after falling on my ass, jumping back up and dashing carelessly back inside, I hadn't damaged a single flower. Oh joy, the flowers are OK, the world is well! Ugh.