SubscribeStar Story: The Babysitter, Part 21

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Part 21

As Paige pulled out a few more of my bras from her bag, it wasn’t difficult to pick up on the trend. Apparently she hadn’t chosen my favorite bra on purpose; she just had good odds due to the fact that she was focusing her attention on my nicest undergarments first. One by one, she held up my bras for both me and her friends to see. First maroon, then sky blue, then black. All of them were lace, and all of them were more expensive than the rest of my underwear. Each of them, on top of being chosen for the perfect fit, worked exceedingly well with my red hair and my fair skin.

I had exactly four ‘special occasion’ bras, not that they were limited to specific dates or events. It’s more that I tended to reserve them for when I was dressed up and/or would potentially be seen in the bedroom later. And to save my favorite, I was about to lose my second, third, and fourth on that list. Not to mention how it was also like losing almost $175, if I remembered correctly. All because I had taken an unfair bet to get out of an unfair and beyond frustrating situation.

“What a shame,” Paige taunted. After showing off each of her selections, she opted to start with the maroon bra. “It’s so pretty. Maybe you can wear bras like this when you’re older, Miley. But you’re still developing, so you really shouldn’t jump to something like this. Training bras suit you much better, I think.”

“Mm hmm,” Violet agreed. She gave my arm a small squeeze with her own, reminding me that we were linked and I wasn’t going anywhere. “No big girl bras for you, little ballerina.”

Even though I knew what was coming, it still felt somewhat unreal as Paige dangled the first of my bras in front of her by the band. “Ready?” she smirked. Milking the moment for everyone, especially for me, she slowly brought the scissors up and opened the blades between the two lace cups. “Are you Alyssa, or Miley?”

Would it save my bra if I answered the way she wanted? I doubted it, but I had to try. They were still insisting on the mistaken identity I was caught up in, despite Noelle currently being upstairs. This was just Paige’s way of continuing to have her fun with all this. On the off chance that she would show me a little mercy, I went with it. “I’m Miley,” I begrudgingly muttered.

“That’s what I thought.” Without any more ado, Paige snipped the bit of fabric holding the front of my bra together.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched the cups separate; the lower one flopped down as the expensive garment was cut in half. Paige wasn’t done there, however. She made short work of cutting the straps off the bra cups as well, then tossed the destroyed pieces onto the end table next to her. Not wasting any time, she picked up the light blue bra next and held it up in a similarly teasing manner. This time around, she didn’t bother with more demeaning comments or leading questions. Instead, she merely got on with ruining the second nice bra of mine.

When I tensed up at the audacity of what my step-sister was doing, I also knew that I was totally helpless to stop her. Not just because I was stuck in the armchair with Violet, but also because I had technically asked for this. First I made the bet without realizing the technicalities I had overlooked, and then I had straight up said out loud that Paige should cut three instead of one. It was way too late to backpedal at this point.

“It’s okay, Miley,” Violet said, speaking at a normal volume for everyone to hear, “This is for your own good. You’ve been pretending to be this stuck-up, mature girl for so long. But we all knew you were just a little troublemaker.”

“Oh, my God!” Annika gasped, “Miley. Did you just call me a bitch?!”

Wait, what? I didn’t even say anything! “What? No, I-”

“Language, little sis!” Paige scowled, “I’m going to have to tell Noelle about that.”

“No!” I exclaimed. My eyes slightly widened at the prospect, knowing full well that Miley’s babysitter would have no qualms about yanking my shorts down and giving me another brutal spanking. She probably wouldn’t storm down here and do it in front of an audience; Paige was my sister, so she was probably an exception in terms of being allowed to witness the earlier discipline where I was borderline bottomless in front of her. But even if Noelle dragged me upstairs and spanked me away from the others, I wasn’t sure I could handle another round of that. My ass was still a little sore from the first time. And also, I DIDN’T SWEAR. “I didn’t say anything,” I said, managing to keep my voice more controlled than my thoughts. They were just proving how easy it would be to lie as a group. It was five of them vs. one of me, and Miley was a known problem child.

“I heard it,” Shannon said.

“Me, too,” Dakota nodded.

“How about this, Miley?” Paige’s lips were pursed in an amused little smile as she pulled out another bra from her bag. A plain white one this time, although it was still one of my better non-lace ones. Being a girl herself, she seemed to have a good idea of my tier list. “We won’t tell your babysitter . . . but only if you cut up three of your bras yourself. The first one doesn’t count, of course. I did all the work for that one.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Annika was ready for it. “It’s going to be four bras if you’re not gracious about her generous offer, dear. How about something like, ‘Anything you say, my gorgeous and amazing older sister, Paige?’ How’s that?”

Paige rolled her eyes. “A bit much, honestly. I’d be fine with ‘Anything you say, Paige.’ How about it, Miley?”

Well, at least she was reigning in Annika’s over the top suggestion. But I also wasn’t about to offer up something like that to the very same sister who ended up pushing me deeper into this mess instead of helping me sort it out. Although it’s not like saying it would mean anything, it was also something I wouldn’t be caught dead saying to her under normal circumstances.

Except, of course, that this was very much not a normal situation. “And if I do?” I reluctantly asked. Stupid. So stupid. The last ‘deal’ I made with my sister was why my bras were currently on the chopping block. In the back of my mind, I knew that playing more of her games was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t get the memory of Paige flashing my ID at me out of my head. That was probably the closest object around that could prove who I really was, unless she happened to have more of my possessions down here. Not out of the realm of possibility, considering my bras had been stashed so close.

“Hmm . . . ” Paige mused. Although I didn’t know her very well, I could still tell that this time she was actually thinking. She had come up with the wager from before in a matter of seconds, and the fact that the contents of my underwear drawer were conveniently within reach was telling enough in terms of how she clearly didn’t improvise that idea. Annika’s false claim about my swearing seemed to be something they hadn’t all prepared together, but my sister was quick to run with it. “If you do,” she began, briefly pausing for suspense, “Then I’ll offer you a trade for your license.”

Typical. It wasn’t that she would give me my license; instead, I had to earn an offer she presumably wouldn’t tell me until I suffered through the first step. “Fine. Anything you say, Paige,” I agreed right away and repeated the annoying words. Best to rip off the bandaid, and also say it before any of them could start a recording.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Annika sighed.

“Whatever. A deal’s a deal,” Paige shrugged, “But first, Miley, you have some bras to cut.”

“Wait, but-”

“Ah, ah, ah. One deal at a time, sis. How do you expect me to follow through on my end until I see that you’re a girl of your word, first?”

Unbelievable. I had already made begrudging peace with the fact that my best and most expensive bras were going to be ruined beyond repair, although twisting things so I would be doing the cutting was definitely worse than watching Paige do it herself. What excuse would I possibly have when it was all said and done? Since we were eighteen, it already felt immature to get our parents involved with this, although I was absolutely willing to call them or Miley’s parents if it meant Noelle understanding the huge mistake she had made. But this? It’s not like I could tattle on my sister for destroying my undergarments if most of it happened by my own hand.

Without waiting for me to affirm anything, Paige handed the stack of bras to Shannon, who passed it down the line. Dakota, to Violet, to me. The scissors followed shortly afterwards, and Violet giggled in my ear as she held out the blades. “No rushing, Miley. We want to watch.”

“That’s right. No rushing,” Paige said, “And since you said you’ll do anything I say . . . ”

Yep. That’s why I didn’t want to give her that kind of ammo. Although it’s not like it made a difference. I had followed her and her friends down here to get my ID, and already jumped through numerous demeaning hoops. Straying from how I was being strung along at this point would only complicate things. Now that I could somewhat see the goal, albeit with one last unknown obstacle in the way, I had to commit. After all, Paige would have cut up the bras anyway. And, although they were now in my hands, I wasn’t any closer to being free from the seat I was sharing with Violet.

“Whatever,” I muttered. Paige and I both used that teenage word here and there, although I kind of regretted using it in this context. Even though everyone present knew my actual age, I still didn’t love the idea of portraying myself as the younger teen that Noelle thought I was. My appearance was bad enough; I really needed to avoid repeating ‘fine’ or ‘whatever’ too many times now that I had said both so recently.

“Go on, then,” Paige said, “You can even choose the order!”

No doubt predictably, I pulled the white bra from the small pile. Maybe Miley’s parents would call Noelle to check in, and the tall brunette would come racing down to apologize for all of this once she was informed that her real charge didn’t have a sister. Wishful thinking, perhaps, but I would prefer to delay cutting up my nicer bras on the off chance that it might happen before I got through all of them.

But I had to start somewhere. So, I reluctantly lifted the scissors to the fabric . . .

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