by: Lady Lucia | Story In Progress | Last updated Sep 13, 2024
Part 22
Noelle, in fact, did not come rushing downstairs to put an end to all this. She was no doubt still working or relaxing upstairs, blissfully unaware what was going on during her babysitting break.
As annoyed as I was that she refused to listen to me, thanks to how the real Miley was a manipulative little brat, it’s not like this was actually Noelle’s fault. Most of the blame fell on Paige, as well as her friends. Despite everything, however, I could fully pin this on my sister. I could have stayed upstairs with Noelle and played the part of an academically driven ‘Miley.’ Before taking a single step into the basement, I had known that I would be outnumbered and at a total disadvantage. Instead of waiting it out and maybe convincing the babysitter to make a phone call at some point after playing things safe for a while, I had taken the bait that had come in the form of my ID being flashed to me. And here I was, desperate enough for my driver’s license that I was about to cut up three of my best bras just to hear the deal that Paige had in mind.
I couldn’t delay things forever. Since Violet had told me not to rush, I could justify not jumping right into the first cut, but only for so long. At the same time, I didn’t want to look scared or hesitant in front of Paige and all of her friends. They were already treating me like I was her younger sister, and the last thing I needed was to give them another reason to tease or taunt me. So I took a mental breath for courage, resisting the urge to do so out loud as well, and snipped the lace bra between the cups.
“Your poor bra!” Paige giggled. Her demeanor didn’t match her sentiment in the slightest. “Keep going, little sister. You have sixty seconds to do all three, or the deal is off.”
Wait, what? “Paige, you-”
“59 seconds,” she said.
“But don’t go too fast,” Violet reminded me.
“58 seconds.”
“Okay, okay! You don’t have to count every second,” I groaned. No longer putting the task off, I tried to split the difference between what both girls were telling me. Watching the cups of the ruined bra fall apart had been the worst part, so the next bit was more manageable anyway. I held up the white lace for everyone to see, and methodically cut both sides of the band off next, followed by the straps. More or less the same way Paige had done it, so the bra cups were no longer attached to anything. Or, in other words, so there was no way the nice undergarment could be salvaged.
I went through the same process with the black bra, internally cringing at the first cut. It was such a simple action on the surface, but it was also painful to watch something so personal and so expensive be destroyed just like that. There wasn’t much time to linger on those feelings, as Paige was happy to announce that I only had thirty seconds left. I cut up the rest of the bra more efficiently, then handed the pieces to Violet. She had taken the first little pile of fabric off my lap, so I went with the option that better maintained my personal space the second time around.
If Paige hadn’t put a clock on me, I would have hesitated a little more when it came to the sky blue bra. It was such a good color on me, especially in terms of complementing my hair, and it also one of the best ‘special occasion’ bras I owned in terms of making my not so impressive chest look a little more sexy and mature with the way it hugged my upper curves and created more cleavage than I normally had. Not quite as amazing as the dark green number, but a close second, especially with how it looked with the matching thong.
I prayed that this one was still in stock, and hadn’t been rotated out for a new collection. That was most likely the case, although maybe I could find it online or something. Either way, I couldn’t dwell on it. Ripping off the bandaid before my sister’s countdown gave her the option to smugly proclaim that I had cut up all my bras for nothing, I sliced through the light blue cups and hoped that my face didn’t show the instant regret of doing so. I was in too deep at this point, anyway. Including the bra Paige had destroyed, I had already lost three. In the grand scheme of things, four wasn’t that much worse. Although the process had certainly been bookended with my favorites; the maroon and the sky blue were easily in my top three. I tried to take some solace in the fact that my selfish step-sister would definitely be on the hook for this when our parents returned from their trip. I’d have to buy some new bras within a few days to replace the ones now in shreds, but I could live with that if I knew she would be stuck reimbursing me in a month or two. And, on top of that, getting in trouble for putting me through all this and maybe also taking some heat for causing the real Miley to be living it up this weekend without a sitter.
Similar to the last couple bras, the first cut was the worst and most daunting part. Once I got through that, the damage had already been done, and it was easier to make myself snip through the straps and band. Once again refraining from letting out an audible sigh of annoyance and frustration, I passed over the third and final bra to Violet.
“Well, that was fun,” Paige said, “And good job, Miley. You did it with about five seconds to spare. Although we’re not quite done yet, are we? The deal was for your bras AND underwear, remember?”
For a moment, I thought she was going to somehow go back on her word or come up with a barely logical loophole. Something that would put more of my bras in danger, and simultaneously testing to see how far I would let her move the goalpost. Instead, she brought up something that was very much within the original bet we had made. While losing a few pairs of nicer underwear wasn’t the end of the world now that the more expensive part of the set had already been ruined, it was still another way for Paige to ‘innocently’ stall. We both knew what I was waiting for, and why I was down here in the first place, but first I had to suffer through losing more of my delicates beyond just having them taken from my drawer. More insult to injury, considering the violation of her entering my bedroom and confiscating countless things was already a lot to deal with when we normally had boundaries as sisters.
“Ooh, can I have a turn?” Annika asked, “I mean, I totally deserve it. She called me a bitch, plus I was obviously carrying our team.”
“Sure,” Paige nodded, “But I totally helped. You can’t take all the credit.”
“Mm hmm. Whatever you say! First, I want Miley to apologize. It’s fucking rude to use language like that, especially when saying it to an older girl who literally did nothing wrong.”
“Good idea. There’s literally no reason for a girl your age to be swearing anyway, sis. How about an apology?”
I looked at both of them in disbelief. Was cutting up my precious bras not enough? Everyone in the room knew I didn’t actually say anything like that a few minutes ago, and yet they were still continuing the fantasy anyway. I found myself caught in another obnoxious lose/lose situation. Argue, and they would all back each other up. Go along with it, and feed into the bullshit claim about what I had said. Plus this was just another way to drag all of this out further, when I was trying to expedite this part to the best of my ability. Watching my underwear get cut up by Paige’s friend without a word of protest was one thing, since I had begrudgingly agreed to the earlier bet. But apologizing to her for something I hadn’t even said? That didn’t make any sense.
In the back of my mind, I knew that simply saying ‘sorry’ anyway was the quickest route forward. Still, I couldn’t just roll over when I had already done so much as ‘Miley’ for them. “Just finish the bet,” I rolled my eyes. Gesturing to the bag of underwear and bras, I said what we all knew, “That was the deal. I didn’t call Annika anything.”
“Rude,” Annika replied, “Last chance, Miley. Sure you don’t want to apologize?”
Honestly, I wasn’t. It was such a dumb hill to die on, especially when I had already suffered through ‘anything you say, Paige’ and ‘I’m Miley.’ It was a little embarrassing how quickly my resolve crumbled, although I took a little solace in the fact that I was only allowing myself to cave in the name of getting all of this over with. “Fine,” I muttered, unintentionally sounding a bit like a girl who was the real Miley’s age thanks to how forced and blunt the apology came out, “I’m sorry.”
“Better than nothing,” Annika shrugged, “Would’ve preferred a real apology, but I guess little Miley hasn’t learned how to properly do something like that. I blame you, Paige. Aren’t older sisters supposed to set a good example?”
“It’s not my fault,” Paige rolled her eyes, “She’s always been a stuck-up little bitch. Honestly, I’m not surprised Noelle assumed things the way she did. Apparently we’re not the only ones who can see right through you, sis.”
Fuck her. Except I was already being made to apologize for swearing that I didn’t say. If I was baited into cursing any of them out for real, getting my ID would take even longer. Of course, it didn’t help that all of them were now constantly swearing while simultaneously getting on my case about it. The frequency was no doubt intentional, and I tried not to let the annoyance show on my face.
“You are kind of like Miley, aren’t you?” Violet chimed in. She pulled me a little closer by our linked arms. “I’ve only seen her once or twice, but she’s about your size.”
“What else?” Paige asked, “Let’s see . . . our Miley is a pain in the ass.”
“Our Miley thinks she knows best,” Dakota said.
Shannon added, “And is a total brat about it, too. She’s so shrill when she gets up on that high horse.”
“Kind of whiny, too,” Annika giggled, before shifting to a higher pitch, “You’re using up all the internet. And the hot water!”
“You really do whine a lot, sis,” Paige said. She picked up the bag full of my undergarments and set it on Annika’s lap. “That’s why this will be good for you. Just sit still, Miley, and be quiet. We’ll chat when Annika is done.”
The Babysitter, Part 30
by: Lady Lucia | Story In Progress | Last updated Sep 13, 2024
Stories of Age/Time Transformation