Chapter #20Into a Sister, Onto a Problem by: Nostrum   As fun as it may be to pit Tina against Heather, trying to convince her won’t be easy. They know each other but aren’t, and weren’t, very close. And while you could force it with the pens, you’d just make things worse with her. Not a good trade-off.
However, you can make things a bit better for you. You grab your phone, taking photos of the disaster, then outside.
“Dude,” Jimmy asks. “What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.” You take a photo of Jimmy, grabbing a mop, then of the trash can, full of what little stuff he could clean. “Keep cleaning; I’ll help you in a while.”
“Why should I?” he asks as you sit down. “Heather should!”
“Don’t worry,” you reassure him. “She will.”
As you talked to Jimmy, you wrote a simple text message to Mrs. Wilson’s phone. [Maam, Heathers causing trouble.]
You then send every single photo you took, one by one, with interjections. [She had a study group yesterday.] [Askd jimmy 2 clean but isnt here.] [Timeout?]
“What’s that about ‘timeout’?” you hear from behind.
“None of your business,” you tell him as you do the one thing you know he’s dreading. You know where Mrs. Wilson stores her gloves, and you steel your stomach to grab the puke-soaked paper towels, setting them on a bag. (Even then, you almost feel the need to empty your stomach inside.)
“Is it related to Heather?” he insists.
“Pretty much. You’ll see.”
--
With your help, Jimmy finishes cleaning up three times as fast. (Mostly because you’re pushing him while doing your side of the job,) He’s taking a shower when you notice Heather arrive, carrying two six-packs of the same cheap beer as before.
“Hey, David. Didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Can’t visit my friend?”
“Sure. Just keep Jimmy entertained upstairs, you hear?” She promptly ignores you, storing the beers in the fridge.
“Did you buy something you guys can heat up and eat?”
She glares at you in disbelief. “She’s coming in a few days. No need to.”
“Jimmy told me she might get a job where your aunt lives. Will you keep buying pizza and stuff?”
“Obviously not, but if you knew my aunt, you’d know Mom won’t stay there.”
That depends, you tell that to yourself. She just might enjoy being your aunt.
“She’ll be back by the weekend. Plus, it’s gonna be a study group.”
“Since when d’you drink on study groups?”
“Since we figured out Calculus sucks.” She rushes up the stairs (seems to be a recurring problem), stopping midway. “You can Tina. Anyways, we’re gonna finish some exercises today and see if it works as well as yesterday.”
“You mean stopping halfway to party?”
“To weather the stress of figuring out historical/per-day earnings estimation.” As she moves towards her room, her voice slowly fades away. “I know it’s a good estimation of...”
You snatch your phone from your pocket. No response from Mrs. Wilson. What could keep her so busy?
“Jimby!” You shudder as you hear Heather’s shriek. “What did I tell you about laundry!?”
“I thought you were supposed to do it!”
“I got study group tonight, so I can’t. I want those clothes on the washer, now!”
“I don’t know how to work it!”
“You should!” (She’s not wrong on that. Tina presses you with it when your mom’s sick, but only to clean your own.) “I bet Davey knows how to!”
“Then why not ask him?”
After a little bout of silence, you hear her stomping towards you. “Davey? You know how to work a washing machine?”
“I’d need to see it.”
“Since you’re here,” she tells you while dropping two cloth bags, “you could help my little brother do the laundry.”
“Tina doesn’t tell me to do her laundry too. Just mine.”
“Well, you’re not at your house.” She grabs one bag, urging you to carry the other. “I just want Jimby to be a bit more responsible. Just because Mom doesn’t want him to doesn’t mean he shouldn’t.”
“You could at least lead by example.”
“Hey. “ She drops the bag like a heavy load, standing before you. “You don’t need to tell me how to raise my little brother, alright? If Tina was here, she’d back me up.”
Which is why I didn’t bring her here, you realize, relieved.
She leads you towards the laundry room – an outside shack – and points at an older, rusty washing machine. “You know the basics, right?”
“Uh-huh.” The main dial’s different – less options, you reckon – but water level and temperature remain the same.
“And about mixing clothes?”
“Depends on color and fabric.”
“Good. Once Jimmy’s here, teach him that.” She turns her back on you, huffing. “Gotta get ready for the... study group.”
Too bad you’ll have to cancel it. She never saw you drawing the black pen. You click it, then approach her.
“You should be careful with all that pizza and hard work,” you mock her. “Can be dangerous.”
You drag her, feeling a familiar heft. Heather’s taken to her mother in many ways – chubby, with large breasts and huge hips – except her face and attitude. She and Jimmy can’t deny being siblings, having the same round face, small eyes and freckles; yet, while his face naturally flexes into an impish grin, Heather’s is stone cold. Only when she’s tipsy or relaxed she shows a softer look.
You close the door at the shack and quickly undress her. You already saw her naked, but you didn’t pay too much attention then. Now that you must wear her, you notice she has left her groin bushy. (And that she needs a shave – the hair stubs are visible.)
After taking your clothes, you slide your leg inside hers. It feels strangely meaty, like soft ham covered in molasses. You’re a little disturbed this leaves you with a raging boner, but the experience is always exhilarating. (You can’t believe you’re wearing your fourth woman in the span of seven days.)
That experience has also made things faster. You stretch Heather’s abdomen over yours, then slide your arms inside hers. They feel bloated, meaty and heavy, like the rest of her body, though her fingers are slender and her nails trimmed. You stick her breasts into your chest, and with a heavy gulp of air, you stretch her face into yours.
As you rub it, you feel the squish of her soft cheeks and the flatness of her nose. You rub your hands from her face into her breasts, then into her legs and finishing into her buttcheeks. Your cheeks tremble as a perverted smile struggles to form into her otherwise hard face.
You grab her underwear – her large bra and wide panties – and hold them close. Your groin is growing tingly from the softness of her skin. Her curly blonde-dyed locks rub your new cheeks and rasp on your shoulders.
“Jimmy’s gonna hate me sooo much when I trick him,” you say in Heather’s grinding tone. “Can’t wait to pester him.”
You finish dressing up – pulling her leggings and shirt – and give yourself a little pat on your new groin. Smiling has grown easier after you stretched the rictus out of her face. You feel so satisfied, you’ll even do the laundry yourself.
Five minutes later, as you split Jimmy’s clothes, you notice him arriving. He’s stunned. “What are you doing?”
“Your clothes,” you tell him. “Since you’re too lazy to do so.”
“I’d have done it anyways,” he mumbles, moving his clothes around. “You even started with mine?”
“So you stop claiming I don’t help you.”
“Again, didn’t have to. Where’s David?”
“He got a call from his mom or something. Had to leave from the side door.”
“Did he tell you if he’d return?”
“Can’t say. Seems it was important.”
“Aw, man...” As you see him crestfallen, you turn him around and smother him with your breasts. “H-hey! What’s the big idea!?”
“He might not be around, but you’re gonna be with me. Hell – I'm gonna cancel my study group and play your stupid games.”
That alerts him, as he stares at you with a mixture of awe and scorn. “David?”
“I told you – he had to go away.” You smother him again, giggling. “I thought you’d be happy smelling my stinky boobies.”
He shoves you back, giggling mad. “Duuuude! What made you do it!?”
“I was being an ass to you, Jimby.” (It feels easy to try to stay in character.) “I mean – I always knew it was you who dirtied my panties. I wanted to soil them myself.”
“Ha! You should let me wear her, man!” He shudders, giving you a worried look. “Hold on. She knows!?”
“I was just ribbing you, man. Still haven’t zapped myself with the other pen.”
“Cool! Are you really gonna ditch her study group?”
“Sure! And I’m gonna try to cook something. Hell – we're gonna drink her beers too. I wanna see how it feels to shove a bottleneck deep inside her pussy.”
“Dude, can you stay as her forever!? You’d be the coolest big sister!”
“Only for today, man. Gotta teach her a lesson.”
--
You find that playing against Jimmy is easy when you’re Heather. It’s as simple as being topless – even if he’s her brother, Jimmy has a legendary weakness to naked breasts, and his sister’s is, for some reason, no exception.
You do pamper him, though. Though you buy pizza, you cook him some spaghetti with ragu (the actual sauce, though you use the brand as a base) and you down a couple beers with him. You’re about to ask for some “naughty girl time” when you finally hear your phone ringing.
It’s Mrs. Wilson. You give it to Jimmy so that he responds. “Hello? Mom? Yeah, he’s here. Uh... well, he’s wearing her. Alright.” He hands you the phone, worried. “Mom wants to talk to you.”
“Mmm...issus Wilson?”
“David?” You hear her sigh. “Never mind. Listen – change of plans. I’m returning today.”
“Why?”
You can hear the desperation in her voice. “I don’t understand. Bradley... He wants to divorce Vanessa. He says... he wants to be with me.”  You have the following choice:  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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