The Babysitter, Part 25

Chapter 24
The Babysitter, Part 24

Part 24

I half expected Paige to get on my case about saying a swear word, considering how many lose/lose scenarios she had already stacked up. Or perhaps for Paige to snip through my favorite thong anyway. As much as they had twisted both my words and the bet we had made, however, it seemed that they were staying true to their word this time around. Or, more likely, the duo just wanted to hold onto a bargaining chip that was annoyingly effective on me. 

Annika pulled the scissors away from fabric. “Apology accepted, Miley. Just remember, swear words are bad.”

“And insulting my friends is uncalled for,” Paige added. She took the thong from Annika and set it down on the matching bra on her lap. “Keep going, sis. Don’t you have a few more things to say?”

I had momentarily forgotten about the rest. Before I had a chance to recall the rude way I was to describe my own body, Annika was kind enough to give me the list. “No boobs, no ass, no hips.”

“No curves at all, really,” Paige smirked, “Honestly, I’m pretty sure the other Miley is more developed than you.”

There was no way that was true. I was small, but I wasn’t that small. My petite frame was just particularly exaggerated in the casual outfit and training bra I was wearing, not to mention that I was sitting next to Paige’s tallest and most endowed friend. Although it’s not like taunts about my size were new; Paige often lorded her own height over me, even though we were step-sisters and comparing our bodies like that was totally stupid. 

In this instance, she was just trying to get under my skin. That, and she was clearly enjoying that she could be over the top with all of this. Our parents weren’t here, Noelle had mistaken me for someone else and unknowingly set this all into motion, and I was currently outnumbered and still stuck doing whatever it took to get the ID that I originally came down for. My best lingerie set, too. 

Until I had those things safely in hand, I was committed to a little more personal embarrassment. Besides, any resistance would just amuse the girls. If I ripped off the bandaid and acted as indifferently as possible, then they’d get less enjoyment out of all this. Theoretically. “And I’m allowed to say that one word?” I asked. Asking permission felt like a mistake, which was instantly verified when a few of Paige’s friends chuckled, but Annika had just gotten on my case about swearing. The last thing I needed was to see more of my underwear cut up as an additional punishment.

Paige just smiled. “Look, she’s learning. Yes, Miley. When your gorgeous and amazing older sister tells you to, you can try out a curse word or two. It’s kind of like when mature girls are given a few sips of wine when there’s family supervision involved.” 

Of course she was comparing it to something familiar to both of us. The annoying part was that the parallel made total sense, save for the fact that I wasn’t actually Miley’s age. It also wasn’t lost on me that she was complimenting herself with Annika’s words from earlier. Whatever. After glancing around to make sure that there weren’t any phone cameras trained on me, I begrudgingly said all of it as flatly as possible. “I don’t have boobs, or an ass, or hips.”

“No curves at all?” Paige raised an eyebrow. 

Just as plainly as before, I echoed, “I don’t have any curves.”

“And what’s your name, my dear little sister?”

“Miley.”

“Not very enthusiastic, are you?” Paige sighed. She glanced towards the other girls, “Little Miley must be so tuckered out. Such a big day! Ballet, a long walk, a bare ass spanking, and a bunch of homework? Although let’s be real; you probably loved that last part.”

“Maybe she loved the spanking,” Dakota grinned.

“Maybe!” Paige replied, “It’s always the prudes that end up secretly being the kinky ones, right? How about it, Miley? Did you enjoy being spanked by Noelle, or does it need to be a guy doing it for you to be turned on?”

No matter how much effort I put into my blunt tone, I was far less in control when it came to something like blushing. Paige’s either/or question was a total trap, considering that the answer was neither, but that didn’t stop me from mentally reliving the experience of being over Noelle’s lap, or the mental image of a guy spanking me in a similar manner. I was very much NOT into that, yet my sister’s suggestion planted the idea enough to make me flush at the circle’s reaction to it. 

Thankfully, she didn’t push the dirty line of thinking beyond the fleeting mention. Instead, Paige got right back to business. “Okay, Annika. This part is all you. Think you can manage little Miley’s underwear without my help?” Paige stood up, taking care to center my dark green bra on the cushion afterwards. It was like she was my undergarment to save her spot in lieu of a phone or something else, which was so ridiculous and unnecessary. Everyone seemed content with the current seating arrangements already, and we were all way too old to claim things like that anyway. 

Annika tilted her head a little bit as she looked up at my sister, “Where are you going?”

“I’m being a good host and clearing some of these plates. And, more importantly, getting us some dessert.”

“You don’t want to see the look on her face?”

“I imagine it won’t get much better than losing her precious big girl bras. Although your last cut was pretty satisfying, too. Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back!”

“Suit yourself,” Annika shrugged, “But, before you go . . . ” She procured the maroon thong that matched the bra that Paige had ruined herself before outsourcing the work to me. As a parting gift to my sister, Annika made four deliberate cuts–two on opposite ends of the waistband, followed by one across the front and one in the back. The sexy lace number was in shreds within seconds, and Paige’s teammate rounded things out by discarding all the dark red fabric in her still half full glass of soda. “Can you get me a refill? Pretty please?”

“You just have to make my life difficult, don’t you?” Paige sighed, although the pleased look on her face didn’t at all match the false tone of annoyance she was making a show of complaining with. “Fine. But you totally owe me for sneaking this past Noelle. Anyone else? Drinks?”

Half the other girls raised their hands, so Paige simply settled on telling everyone to keep their glasses. She’d bring down a few more cans, and there was some ice in the chest freezer around the corner for anyone who needed more. Naturally, I wasn’t included when Paige polled the room, although it’s not like I made a point to ask for anything. The sooner she was back, the better. 

Paige proceeded to collect everyone’s empty plates, which was absolutely over the top and unlike her. She and her friends were total slobs most of the time, and typically procrastinated cleaning until the last possible second. More often than not, I was roped in to help when it came to any public places, which annoyingly worked. It wasn’t like I could stoop to pointing fingers whenever our parents returned from one of their trips, as a dirty house just led to Paige and I being lumped together no matter how different we were. You’d think my pristine room and her messy one would clue anyone in to whose fault a sink full of dishes was, but apparently not. 

Unlike the constant uses of ‘Miley’ that all of them had adopted, I realized that this latest move was less about committing further to the game in front of her friends, and more for the sake of continuing the lie where Noelle was involved. I’d be the younger sister staying downstairs and hanging out with her friends; Paige would be the mature older one who cleaned up after herself and her guests sooner rather than later. As obvious as the trick was, there was no point in calling her out on it in front of her friends. And, between being linked with Violet and how Annika was lifting a new pair of panties from the collection in front of her, it was pretty clear where they wanted me to remain for this. 

In a way, Paige was right. My first few reactions had been a lot more noticeable. I had definitely tensed up when she made the first cut in one of my best bras, and I didn’t even want to know what expressions had crossed my face when I took care of the next three. Most recently, I had exclaimed in protest when Annika had gone after a thong that hadn’t been part of the ‘matching’ deal, then gasped and snapped at her when she did it anyway instead of listening to me. 

But now? I was more or less resigned to my fate, and suffering in silence. Not nearly as interesting to the girls as before, if I had to guess, although the way Annika started methodically cutting through so much of my underwear was a different kind of torment than before. One by one, I had to watch the pile on her lap shrink, and the blonde always held up each pair for myself and the other girls before taking the scissors to it. All the black and white pieces I owned, followed by every shade of blue and red; even the ones that wouldn’t remotely work with maroon or light blue, just because she could. At some point, the four girls started talking about the video game they always played in Paige’s room, which was easily the worst background track to watching each and every one of my thongs get destroyed to round out Annika’s task. 

All in all, I had probably lost 25 pairs of underwear. Maybe more. Plus the bras that were definitely not salvageable at this point . . . At least $400, gone in a matter of minutes. I was used to Paige’s bullshit, but Annika seemed more than happy to play her part in all this as well. Provided I could get Paige to pay me back, which was highly unlikely, the financial aspect wasn’t the only problem. It would also take so much of my time and energy to replace everything I lost. 

Dakota had come prepared. She had a plastic bag in her purse from one of our local retail stores, likely not originally for this moment unless these girls had excessively planned ahead, and Annika made short work of filling it with all the cut up underwear that had formed a new pile next to the bra saving Paige’s seat. 

Then Violet gave me a nudge. “Close your eyes, Miley.” 

“What? Why?” I asked, caught off guard by the suggestion.

“Because I said so,” she replied, in a slight lilt to go with the patronizing phrase, “Do I need to count to three for you?”