The Day My Sister Tricked Me Ch. 14

I have the anal beads in my hand. I'm not sure how long I've just been staring at them, but I haven't made any progress with getting them to go in anywhere. I've assessed the toy from top to bottom. They're rubbery, and in a line that remains straight when I hold it out. They are not typical anal beads like you see in porn, hard balls tied together on a loose string. This is more like one floppy, rubbery toy. At the tip, the smallest ball is about the size of a marble. The one at the end is nearly the size of an orange. We can worry about that one later, I think, and focus my eyes back on the small one. One step at a time.

Speaking of time, I realize I'm wasting a lot of it. I need to make progress now. I don't just have to do what Sarah says, I need to be able to do it in a timely manner. Any hesitation and she'll see it as me trying to worm my way out of things. They go in, they stay in. But, my God! My God, my God, my God! Where do I even begin?

First things first, I need to understand where it is they are going. I slip my free hand down the back of my shorts. I find the spot quickly enough. But when I press down with one finger, nothing gives. I've never done anything like this before. But, knowing I can't give up that easily, I press harder. All I get in response is pain. I question if I'm even doing it right.

I slip my shorts right down for a sec, the panties with them, and try the same thing with the toy, but no luck their either. I look around, as if the room is going to supply me with an answer. And it does, potentially. I see Sarah's makeup table, and I realize I might find something to lubricate the toy. I move over to it and begin my search, but all I find are the lipsticks. Damn it. Where does she keep her other stuff? Surely she has a whole array of products for skin and hair, and something could be used as lube. Then I realize there's a place I've been overlooking. Precious little Sarah not only had the bigger room, it even has its own en suite. An annoying fact under normal circumstances, but one that might get me out of a tight situation this time. Tight... I sigh at the pun that hangs before me.

I move swiftly to her bathroom. Automatically, my eyes scan the door frame, the hinges, and the handle for any traps, and it scares me that I did it without thinking. She really has messed with my mind. Here I am, in a rush to get a sex toy up my ass just to avoid her wrath. But, who would do any different? I don't see anything out of the ordinary around her bathroom door. It's easily possible there's something I missed. It wouldn't surprise me in the least, but I decide it's worth the risk to get the current task complete. And I can always tell her my intentions were pure. I was sneaking into her bathroom to get lube, that's all. I make a mental note to phrase things I bit more delicately than that though, if it comes to it.

Her bathroom is even messier than her bedroom. Endless shampoo and conditioner bottles, a dirty mirror, clothes and towels littering the floor. If I left even a fraction of this mess in the bathroom Mom would freak. I guess that's one of the privileges of having your own. Looking around, I had to admit it, I was a bit jealous. This mess was just evidence she was living life how she wanted. I take a step and land my foot right on something scratchy. I look down and see a pale blue lacy bra, and less than a foot away, the matching panties. Then, I hear another giggle from Jessica downstairs. Oh, Jessica is totally the type of girl to wear matching panties. I wonder if they'd be as lacy as these though? I push the thought out of my mind and move on.

Most of the bottles lying around are empty, obviously awaiting to be trashed but the owner is too lazy to do it. The shower must have the ones she uses, and I realize I have to step in to reach the shelf inside. I'm still swinging around the dumb toy, the bringer of inevitable discomfort. I skim through bottle after bottle, and I become aware that I don't know exactly what I'm looking for. Sarah probably doesn't own lube, and if she did she wouldn't leave it lying around in her bathroom for the world to see. I guess I am gonna have to simply use the best alternative from what she has here. And the best candidate, by a long shot, seems to be the coconut oil.

It's in a massive bottle. She won't miss a drop or two. I pour it into my free hand, and the white, creamy liquid sloshes in my palm. I move it around to get an idea of how much it might help, and the whole blob of it goes sailing out of my hand, splashing on the shower floor. Lucky I didn't do that on her red carpet, I think to myself. But it's good stuff. I pour some more, then set the bottle down. I dip the tip of the anal beads into the pool in my palm and move it around. The small ball is glistening. That should do.

With my shorts still hanging around my thighs, both my cheeks hanging out, I reach down between them with the toy, feeling up and down. But with the flopping thing I struggle to find the opening. Frustrated, I whip the toy away and put my free hand down. The impatience leads to a vigorous search, my fingers moving fast and hard. I had forgotten that I covered that same hand in slippery coconut oil, so when my index finger finds the spot and presses down to confirm, the whole thing slips in, right to the last knuckle. OH.

I yank it out immediately. When I do, I feel an emptiness there and a bit of a sting kicks in. I bring my hand back in front of me, it dripping in oil. That was an odd feeling, but boy does the oil make things easier. I try submerging the tip of the toy in the oil again, but there's not enough left in my palm anymore. I find a simpler method to get it oiled up. I simply grip the toy with the oil-soaked hand and start moving up and down. I keep it moving, getting the big black thing nice and wet from top to bottom. Easy.

Now it just has to go in. If my whole finger can do it, why not this thing? Granted, its probably twice the length of my finger and a lot chunkier, but it should be doable. I reach behind, guiding the thing between my legs. My shorts drop and form a wrinkled pile around my ankles, but with both hands occupied I leave them there. I feel for the hole again, and when I press my fingertip slips in. Wow, the oil really opens things up. I move my finger aside and align the tip of the toy, the first small bead. I push.

I feel a bit of pressure, then nothing. I guess that was the first bead pushing in, and once fully passed the threshold, my body closed around it again. So weird. I continue to push. The second bead puts up a fight, and that worries me because there's three more after that, each bigger than the next. I get through the second one though, feeling it stretch me. My hole closes around that one too, this time more quickly as it shrinks back to it's tighter shape. I guess now I've answered the question of what anal beads feel like... not that I've ever desired that information, exactly.

I push for the third one. It's big. The growth from one to the next is kinda wild. I push and push but this time I feel outright pain. But I gotta try, I've gotten this far already. I try to readjust my grip, but the moment I let go of the toy it tries to push itself back out, and the second bead exits with a little popping noise. It feels satisfying for some reason. Probably because my body wants it out of me rather than going in. I grab the toy before it can fully come out, and I slide the second bead in again, feeling myself stretch. It goes in easier this time. Then, bracing myself, I firmly grip the toy and shove it upward, and the third one shoots right in. Oh my God.

After the initial feeling, I feel a dull pain far inside me, and I realize how deep it's gone. The smallest, first bead was pressing somewhere against my insides. Jesus. All three were in now, but pushing for the fourth only sends them further up in me. I question if that was normal and safe, but I guess these toys wouldn't exist otherwise. Even still, the pain was too much. I can't do another one, yet alone the fifth one after that. I let go of the toy to relax, but this time it doesn't try to push out, and just dangles there between my legs. It's too firmly in. Should I just grow a pair of balls and get the rest in there? If those petite women in porn can do it with a big smile on their face, why can't I take it?

Then I hear something. I perk my ears up and listen out. There's small chatter from... just beyond the bathroom door. Sarah's bedroom?! It's her and Jessica. I hadn't even heard them come up the stairs. I look down at myself, to see my little shorts at my ankles in a pool of oil, while a massive black toy is shoved up my ass and spreading my fat cheeks apart. My God, I hope Jessica doesn't want to use the bathroom. Thank God I had shut the bathroom door behind me.

"Oh, there they are," I hear Sarah say, her voice muffled through the walls. She must have found her slippers. I hope I won't get in trouble for not getting them on time. Listening, I try to figure out why the two of them bothered to come up to Sarah's room. Probably to exchange lipsticks or whatever it is girls do. But I can't hear anything else they are saying, only their muffled conversation. Besides, I have more pressing matters - I need to look presentable, fast!

As I hear them move around the room, laughing and talking, I try in one swift movement to hitch my shorts back up and also step out of the shower. The great, big shaft of rubber in my ass I have no idea how to hide. But as I would find out in the next disastrous moments, a solution would present itself. Because as I take a step out of the shower, awkwardly bent over to pull my shorts up, I had not anticipated the sheer amount of coconut oil that covered the shower floor. Instead of stepping forward, my feet slipped on the slick oil and went out from underneath me. I come crashing down, slamming hard on my ass, my head going back and both legs rocketing forward and nearly shattering the shower's glass. Shampoo bottles come tumbling down on my head.

The anal beads were gone. As I had slammed down hard on my ass, I slammed down hard on the toy too. I landed right on them, and the force of the impact against the shower floor shoved them right up, the rest of the way inside me. I could have cried in pain.

"What was that?" I hear Jessica's voice say. Footsteps rush toward the bathroom, but when the door opens, it's just Sarah. Not that that's a good thing for me, but at least it wasn't both of them. It doesn't take her long to find me, a sorry mess on her shower floor, covered in oil, ass out and tears welling in my eyes.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sarah calls back into the room. "Just a shelf fell." Then she looks me in the eyes and mouths "WHAT THE FUCK?" She looks ready to kill me.

I don't know how to respond, and when I open my mouth Sarah simply shakes her head and mouths the word, "Later."

"Is it bad?" comes Jessica's voice.

"No, no. Not at all," says Sarah, turning away from me. "It happened before. My dad put that shelf up and here's useless with that sort of thing. No, don't bother coming in here, this bathroom is a mess!" She shut the door without looking back at me.

****

I reach the bottom of the stairs. Sarah and Jessica had long left the bedroom, and I had since recovered. Barely. I had rested in the bathroom until they left, but my ass was still aching. My insides were stretched. Yet the toy still sat inside me, and had shifted uncomfortably as I descended each step, its base the only part not up in me, but instead sitting snuggly between my cheeks. I had wiped myself clean of the coconut oil with a used towel in Sarah's bathroom, and also managed to get the shorts as dry as I could. To the unknowing eye, I somehow look normal. I was about to enter the living room again, where I knew the pair had headed, when Sarah comes out, fluffy pink slippers on.

We are standing face to face. Then she silently directs me to the kitchen and I instantly turn and head in. She closes the door behind us both. She throws herself up on the kitchen table and plants her feet on a chair, something she'd never do if our parents were home. The atmosphere reeks of her impatience and her annoyance.

"So, was there a reason you were jerking off in my shower?"

I'm taking aback by her accusation. Her tone doesn't suggest a joke. "I was not!" I hiss. Had she mistaken that for jerking off? I guess I did have my shorts down. But thankfully I had the perfect explanation. She'd understand once I told her what happened.

"I looked at your diary." The moment I blurt the words, I feel I made a mistake. Sure, it explained why I was in her shower trying to shove anal beads up my ass, but I also just admitted I invaded her privacy by looking in her diary. On the other hand, while I acted wrong by looking at it, didn't I already face the appropriate punishment? I took those beads like a champ, and I could prove it if she needed me to! There was a crime and their was a punishment. Case closed, surely?

But Sarah only looks confused. Not mad. Not happy. I notice she cranes her neck as she stares at me, and I can't understand why.

"So, just to be clear," she says, adjusting her housecoat. "You looked at my diary? You read the little message I had written?"

"Yes. I did. I looked at it, I'm sorry."

"Hey. Don't apologize to me. I set that up to be a pretty automated system that works without my involvement. You read it, you trigger the trap, you read the rules, you do the punishment. I assume it all worked out?"

"Yes. It was impressive actually."

"Uh-huh," she says, staring at me strangely again. She was making me feel like I had something in my hair, or something.

"What? Did I do something wrong?"

"It's just that, if the punishment had been written out in black and white, clear as day, why didn't you do it?"

"I did. That's what I'm trying to explain. They go in--"

"--they stay in. Yes, I know what it says, I wrote it. So why didn't you put them in?"

"I did! Believe me! That's what I was doing in the shower. You know how hard it is to get (I lower my voice, conscious of the fact that Jessica is in the other room) anal beads up there, considering I've never done anything like that before?"

Sarah stares blankly. It was like she wasn't convinced. No, it was more a look of surprise, as if she did not understand what I was talking about. But she literally just quoted her little note of punishment, so why is she now giving me a look as if she doesn't know what it instructed me to do?

"Come on, Sarah," I plead. "That's what I was doing in the shower. They wouldn't go up without some lubrica--"

"Stop," says Sarah, holding up a delicate, golden hand. "Just. Stop."

She took a deep breathe. "'They go in, they stay in.' That's what it said, right?"

"Yes!"

"And tell me, where did the note tell you to look, in order to find the things that must go in and stay in?"

"Uh... The second drawer, right?"

"Right. The second drawer." Sarah looks a bit detached as she says this, not exactly her authoritative self. Even still, I feel like I am actively disappointing her and still feel the urge to stay on her good side.

She continues. "And what exactly did you find in the second drawer?"

"The anal beads."

She winced at the words, but carried on. "They were the first things you saw?"

"Uh.. I think so"

"You didn't have to sift through a whole bunch of other items to find them?"

"No. They were only thing in there. No, wait, there was some sheets of cardboard that I had to knock out of the way."

"Uh-huh. Sheets of cardboard. And they were just cardboard?"

"Yes! Just trash in the way." Where was Sarah going with this?

"Except they weren't, bro. They were all earrings. Like, twenty pairs. New ones in small packs, not yet opened, and still pinned to their sheet of cardboard. And loose earrings filled the bottom of the drawer. You ignored them all. You looked right past them, and went right to the back of the drawer to fish out... anal beads."

"Wait-"

"THE PUNISHMENT WAS THAT YOU HAD TO WEAR EARRINGS, YOU CREEP. That's what 'They go in. They stay in' meant. There were piles of them. But no, you had to be a complete pervert. The earrings weren't enough for you so instead you go searching for an alternative and find ONE OF MY SEX TOYS AND PUT IT INSIDE OF YOU.

She had somehow managed to scream at me and pack her words with ferocity all without her voice hitting too high a volume.

"Sarah-"

"Wait a minute." She quoted the words again. "'They stay in.' You don't actually still have them..." She trails off.

I pause, afraid to give an answer but knowing there's no point in lying. "I was only doing what the note said."

"I'm gonna get sick."

"Sarah-"

"Actually, no, I'm just gonna kill you, that's what I'm gonna do. You are getting off to this. I knew it. I don't even wanna play this game anymore."

She hops off the table. "You're so fucking weird."

I feel conscious of the fact that, at this point, Jessica must surely know something is up, and Sarah's attitude suggests that the novelty of the whole situation has finally worn off. I feel like she's ready to leave the cat out of the bag and just tell the world I wore panties, swallowed my own semen, and rammed a sex toy up my ass. I absolutely panic as she heads for the door, and drop to my knees.

"Sarah!" I plead.

"What the hell?" she says, spinning around. "Bro, get up."

"Sarah. You have to believe me that I misunderstood."

"I do think you're that dumb," she says, entertaining the idea.

"Yes. That's me. I am dumb. I mean, how stupid would I have to be to fall for all this from the beginning? I should have just waltzed out of the bathroom this morning totally naked, that would have been a lot better than the mess I got myself into. Only an idiot could have ended up like this!" I say all this in the hopes of appealing to her, begging on my knees and calling myself an idiot. She seems to lighten up at my theatrical act of submission.

"How will you fix this?" She says, not even looking me in the eyes, a slight shake of her head.

"I can take them out."

"No! Eww. No. Definitely not. Not when my friends are right outside."

"There are?"

"Yeah. There are," she says in a mocking voice, but as she says this there is some empathy in her demeaner, and a flicker of a gentle smile, almost as if we are in this mess together. And I suppose, in a sense, we are, because if it becomes known I've been hanging out in my house with my sister all morning on the weekend our parents are away and ended up with her anal beads in me and her panties on, I'll get the brunt of the abuse for sure, but Sarah's social life would take a hit too. Wouldn't it be obvious she was involved? It would look super weird to anyone, and the situation would be so hard for her to explain. I had not thought about it that way until now, with the thought of a crowd of her friends being right beyond the front door. I have a hunch that the same thoughts must be running through Sarah's head too, as a cautious look forms on her face. I read the situation at hand, and rise to my feet again. As I expected, Sarah doesn't get mad or act smart or bratty, telling me I didn't ask for permission to get back up. Nothing like that. She lets me compose myself while she does the same, adjusting her housecoat yet again.

There's a knock on the front door, which sets the two of us in motion. Sarah heads into the hall, fixing her hair. I follow, making sure I look presentable. It kind of reminds me of when an aunt or an uncle would call over and Sarah and I would have to look all prim and proper with big smiles on our faces, even if we had just been fighting seconds before. A second knock came, just after Sarah had looked over her shoulder at me, ensuring the morning's activities were not evident on my face or body. Her head subtly nodded in approval, and for the first time all morning it felt like we were on the same team.

But then, before she opens the door, she turns back. "No, you go back there," she whispers, gesturing to the kitchen. But her tone wasn't mean. I guess if you want to give your friends the impression that you have a free house for them to do as they please, your brother lingering in the background as you invite them in kinda ruins that image. I consider myself lucky after what had happened, and back into the kitchen without hesitation. I close the door behind me, wanting to be alone with my thoughts a lot more than wanting to engage in small talk with half a dozen of Sarah's friends. If circumstances weren't what they were I might have argued with Sarah about bringing over guys, but I am totally willing to let things slide.