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 �>�Dare Me by neverdoubted

   Dare Me - Chapter 7 - The Fitting

   The following Saturday, with mom at work, it was my duty to see Lucy off
to her dress fitting.  My role was marginal and I'm only telling you
because of what happened afterward.  We stood in the mud room, which had
recently been cleaned out to get ready for school, and I watched her
disrobe.

   She dragged it out as long as possible, obviously dreading it.  But mom
was expecting a new dress to result, so she knew she couldn't back out.  I
was losing count of the times I had seen my sister get naked by now.  The
chore didn't look like it was getting any easier for her.  My heart
certainly still raced every time she stripped.  But she seemed nervous
about the task ahead more than anything.

   She was wearing play clothes and removed her shirt to reveal one of her
new training bras.  This one was orange, like the color of pale sherbet,
with a generic pattern print and white trim.  I knew that bra came in a
set, and sure enough, when she dropped her shorts, she was wearing a
matching pair of orange panties.  She was handing me the articles as she
removed them, expecting me to sherpa them up to her room.

   Next came her socks, I guess she was going for an orange theme today. 
She had even put her hair up in a ponytail with an orange scrunchie hair
tie.  She was always trying out new styles.  Now down to her underwear, it
was the moment of truth.  She looked at me for a last-minute reprieve, but
I just stood there expectantly.  Then she reached up and pulled her bra
off. Her little breasts joyfully sprang free like they always did.  They
looked like they had elongated slightly in the past week and her nipples
stuck out further than I expected.  I was no expert, but to me it looked
like she was on the verge of another growth spurt in that area.

   Being half naked must have spurred her into action because she then
quickly yanked her panties down.  Once they had rounded the swell of her
bottom, they dropped straight to the floor, and she was able to step out of
them.  She picked them up and added them to the pile in my hands.  Now
completely naked, she started fidgeting, eager to get on with it.

   I held the exit for her and briefly considered giving her a playful
smack on her naked bottom as she passed.  But she was particularly
sensitive about that, so instead I just said "Say 'Hi' to Mr.  Beski for
me." on her way out the door.  I closed the garage door behind her and went
to put her clothes away.

   I had no idea how long a dress fitting would take, but I figured she
would be gone all afternoon.  It was a beautiful day outside, one of the
last ones before school.  I didn't want to spend it cooped up inside.  So,
I decided to go for a bike ride.  I had been wanting to see how long it
would take me to bike to my new school.  I expected mom would be unreliable
and I would frequently have to get myself to school.  Sure, I could always
ride the bus, but I hated doing that.

   Our town had a network of walking trails which were also open to
bicyclers.  It was fun to explore beyond the familiar paths around her
neighborhood.  I met some boys my age playing near a creek.  They were from
another zone, so I didn't know them from school.  But they said they were
going to the same Junior High as me next year.  When I introduced myself,
their interest was piqued.

   "Hey, is Lucy Jenkins your sister?" they asked.  "I heard she's super
hot!"

   Oh great!  More Lucy fans.  How is it that everyone in town already knew
about my sister?  It turns out, this time, Billy Benson was to blame.  They
asked me if it was true that Lucy slept naked and that she was also a
sleepwalker.  Billy had told them a tall tale that he had even personally
seen her sleepwalk almost all the way to school completely naked.  I told
them Billy was full of shit and not to believe anything he told them.  They
wanted to know if she puts out.  I had no idea what that even meant, so I
just shrugged, which drew knowing, carnal grins from the boys.  Some big
brother I was!  I was supposed to be defending her virtue, but here I was
unknowingly making the rumors worse.

   Even with the naked sleepwalker story disproved, they still considered
my sister a celebrity.  I guess I too was granted a modicum of popularity
by association.  And popularity was the most valuable asset a Junior High
Schooler could possess.  All in all, it was a great afternoon.  I was
having so much fun, I did stay a little long and got back later than I had
planned.

   Imagine my surprise to find my naked sister calling to me from the
bushes when I got home.  I had closed the garage when I went on my bike
ride and didn't leave any doors unlocked.  And of course, since she wasn't
wearing anything, she couldn -(TM)t possibly have brought a key with her. I
was the only one who could let her in.

   I apologized and opened the door for her.  She was a bit wild-eyed and
discombobulated, but still gorgeous in nothing but her bare skin.  I helped
her pick the shrub leaves and twigs out of her hair.  Then I took the
opportunity to wipe away the dirt from her body, in the interest of
helping, of course.  I guess a good word to describe her body was  -�supple
-�.  Wherever I pressed harder to wipe the more stubborn smudges, her flesh
gave way, but sprung right back with an alluring ripple when I removed my
hand.  Her bottom, which had been growing firmer recently, was the most fun
to get clean.

   Once her breathing had slowed, she said her skin was itchy and she
wanted to go take a bath.  She made the cutest sight, eagerly rocking back
and forth on the balls of her feet with one hand cupped over her bare
pussy. I just had to make the moment last.  So, I insisted she stand there
naked and recount her afternoon to me before she was dismissed.

   She said Mr.  Beski was very pleased to see her and welcomed her in.  He
had a courtyard with a flower garden and insisted on showing her every
plant.  She was anxious to get on with the fitting, but instead he insisted
on dragging the naked girl along behind him while he droned on and on about
all the different species.  At the back of the courtyard, he had setup a
platform for her with mirrors all around.  He said the lighting inside
wasn't good enough and good lighting was necessary for good fashion.  He
made her stand there like his own personal naked mannequin while he brought
out her dress.

   She tried to describe it to me, but I didn't understand it.  Bottom
line, she hated to admit, but actually thought it was a cute style.  There
were a few problems.  Most importantly, the dress was far from finished. 
The basic shape was there, but none of the stitching.  The panels were just
held together with pins.  She had to hold very still as he carefully
lowered it onto her body.

   That revealed the second issue.  Lucy had done a lot of growing since
the beginning of the summer and Mr.  Beski's measurements were outdated. 
Unable to move for fear of getting poked, she could only stand there and
let him work.  He was clearly a professional and knew what he was doing. 
He knew exactly which pins to pluck and could deftly remove any panel from
the dress in an instant.  That heightened Lucy's embarrassment as she was
naked underneath and various areas of her bare body peeked through at any
times.  And she couldn't exactly move to cover herself.

   But that wasn -(TM)t the worst (or best, depending on your perspective)
part.  When the doorbell rang, Mr.  Beski had just taken down Lucy's chest
panel to make some adjustments.  With her little boobies hanging out in the
open, he excused himself and came back with a boy trailing behind him. 
Lucy squealed, naturally, and instantly moved her hands to cover her naked
chest.  Then she realized her mistake as at least a dozen needles pierced
her poor skin all over.  She tried to show me some of the places where it
still hurt, but I couldn't see any evidence.  I only saw pure, porcelain,
Lucy skin everywhere she pointed.  She relaxed her arms in an attempt to
stop the stinging.  But that just exposed her chest again to the new boy.
She was stuck in limbo.

   Mr.  Beski introduced Lucy to his grandson, Joseph, who was overjoyed to
make her acquaintance.  Mr.  Beski had told me his grandson was planning to
visit Saturday, but I had kept that knowledge from Lucy.  I figured it
would be best if she discovered it on her own.  Joseph Beski had been sent
over to spend the day learning the art of sewing from his grandfather. 
Lucy's dress was going to be their afternoon project.  And little Lucy,
herself, was going to be their muse.

   Joseph lived in another town.  His brother had driven him and dropped
him off for the day.  He had just turned 12 which made him only a couple
months older than her.  I noticed, whenever she talked about him, that her
voice was different and she kind of had a far-off look in her eyes.  She
blushed when I asked what he looked like and that's when I knew Lucy
thought Joseph was cute.  She had a crush on him!  That's when I noticed
something else.  The hand over her pussy was moving!

   Up to that point, I had never thought of my sister as a sexual being. 
Sure, it excited me to see her naked.  But that was more about me.  I guess
I kind of viewed her as a plaything.  Of course, I masturbated and
fantasized about her daring exploits in my room.  But I never really
considered what she thought about it when she was alone in her room at
night.

   I didn't know how girls masturbated without a penis to stroke, but
watching my naked sister stand there trying to covertly massage her pussy
gave me a pretty good idea how it went.  No wonder she was in such a rush
to finish her story and get upstairs!  My own pleasurable urges were making
things uncomfortable, and I started to wish she would hurry it along so I
could go take care of it.

   Lucy told me the rest of the afternoon was a constant humiliation. 
Apparently, Mr.  Beski was very hands-on with his grandson's education.  He
would demonstrate some technique to improve Lucy's dress, like how to
adjust a seam and pin it back in place.  Then he would undo his work and
have Joseph try it.  He would randomly whip off entire pieces of fabric
from her body and showed him how to take accurate measurements.

   At one point, he declared the dress would be better as a halter top.  He
plucked a few pins then whipped the entire thing off her saying he needed
to run to the sewing machine.  Lucy was left standing there in front of her
crush wearing nothing but sleeves.  If there had been any mystery about her
body hidden from Joseph, it was now laid bare to his appreciative gaze.  I
would have said I envied that lucky boy.  But my luck proved even better as
Lucy, seemingly unable to resist the urge while she recounted the story,
raised her other hand, and absently pinched one of her nipples.  I almost
died.  I really, really wanted to try that!

   Lucy was disappointed when Mr.  Beski returned.  He had altered her
dress to have a halter style.  I didn't understand the big deal at first.
She had worn halter tops before.  But then she explained it was because
when she wore it to school, she wouldn't be able to wear a bra with it
anymore.  Her bra straps would show.  She didn't own a strapless or push up
bra yet.

   That decided, he only had one more alteration, but it was an important
one.  His original design was for a girl with a flat chest.  After several
months of development, Lucy no longer fit that description.  So, he said he
was going to have to cut a completely different front panel.  Lucy had to
stand very still while Mr.  Beski showed Joseph how to take careful
measurements of her updated breast dimensions.  It was a critical area of a
woman's body that could make or break a dress, he said.

   Then, he mercifully proclaimed the fitting over and that he would have
her completed dress delivered within a week.  Lucy, now once again rendered
stitchless in front of Joseph, didn't stick around after that.  I wondered
what he must have thought when she simply walked out the door completely
naked and took off down the sidewalk.  She then hid in the bushes until I
got home to unlock the door and let her in, bringing the story up to the
present.

   Her story complete, I dismissed her to go take a bath.  I heard the
water running and filling the tub.  I wanted to take care of some of my own
urges, but I needed to know something first, so I held off.  A few minutes
later, the water drained, and Lucy came down.  She had her hair wrapped up
in a towel, but nothing wrapped around her body!  Her skin was so pink and
clean.  She had come to ask where I put her clothes and I told her it was
in her room.

   I got to watch her naked, athletic bottom once more carry her up the
stairs.  How did it get so firm?  She never worked out or anything!  A
minute later, I couldn't resist.  I snuck up the stairs as quietly as I
could manage and listened outside her bedroom door.  Sure enough, after a
few seconds, my suspicions were confirmed.  She was trying to stay quiet,
but her voice carried through the closed door just loud enough for me to
hear.

   "Oh yes, Joseph," she whimpered in a sultry voice, "It's nice to see
you, too!...UUNH!....Why, thank you!....AAH!....It's my birthday suit!"



   Dare Me - Chapter 8 - Heat, Pressure, Time

   Lucy wore her new designer dress everywhere, including to school, and
got tons of compliments.  It was her favorite, and she kept wearing it even
after she outgrew it.  It still fit her in the middle where here figure was
so small, but it looked shorter each time she wore it as her torso
continued to lengthen.  One day, she came down in it and I had to break the
bad news to her.

   Wearing a bra with that dress never had been possible because of the
halter style top.  But she was able to get away with it while her little
pokey boobies were still immature and could hide safely within the pleats.
But she had experienced recent swelling in that area too.  I told her I
could see the outline of her nipples too clearly for school.  Not to
mention, just standing there, her panties were peeking out underneath the
now too short hem.  I thought she would probably get sent home if she wore
that dress to school anymore.  She was sad but thanked me for looking out
for her and went back upstairs to change.

   She seemed to really be enjoying sixth grade.  Her favorite classes were
History and P.E.  There was also an auxiliary period that rotated the minor
subjects each day which she liked.  She showed a particular affinity for
Art and was getting pretty good at drawing.  That came as no real surprise.
Every girl liked drawing and painting.

   History was more of a head-scratcher.  What girl liked learning about
dusty, old wars?  But it all made sense when you factored in who her
teacher was.  Mr.  Clark was handsome, young, and incredibly cute.  Around
that age, girls were starting to have feelings about the opposite sex.  But
the boys their age tended to repulse them.  Throw them in a room with an
attractive dreamboat teacher, and it was the perfect recipe for puppy love.
Every girl in my class last year had had a crush on Mr.  Clark and Lucy was
no exception.  He was the sole reason why there were so many young female
history buffs in that school.

   There wasn't much to say about my junior high school experience. 
Classes were boring and harder, and the girls ignored me.  But I did grow a
few inches taller and thought I might have a chance at making the
basketball team in the spring.

   Things went along smoothly until November rolled around.  Lucy had a
falling-out with her best friends and sank into a funk.  After that, she
once again retreated into her winter cocoon and didn't emerge again until
spring.  Mom, too, had a rough winter at work.  Her boss treated her more
and more severely, giving her the worst, most menial tasks and demeaning
her at every opportunity.

   The only notable milestone, I guess, was that Lucy started her period.
Having finally attended sex-ed class the end of my first semester, I had a
better understanding of what that meant.  It was different than a boy going
through puberty in a lot of ways.  But in some ways, it was very similar. I
knew from personal experience that everything going forward would be more
vivid for her than when she had just been a child.

   I wondered how that would affect her feelings toward risky behavior. 
Would she start to feel more self-conscious about protecting her growing
body?  Were her daring days behind her, or would the added hormones only
amplify her need for excitement?  Time would tell.  If she started feeling
those temptations again and needed my help scratching that itch, she would
find me.

   All the long winter, she hibernated in bulky attire.  I never saw her in
less than a sweatshirt and jeans, or lounge pants.  And she carried a fuzzy
blanket from room to room that she kept wrapped around herself.  She let
her hair grow out until it came at least down to her waist in back.  When
she stopped accepting invitations to play-dates and birthday parties, I
started to worry that maybe she was depressed.  But as the frozen land
inevitably turned to spring, her frosty stupor began to thaw with it.  I
guess she was just not much of a winter person.  She never did much like
being cold.

   I was sitting at the desk in my room one brisk spring afternoon in
March. It was Sunday and I had math homework due the next day.  Algebra and
I just didn't get along.  Lucy poked her head into the room and said she
was going for a run.  Mom had been called in to work again and that left me
in charge.  What kind of jerk boss calls their employee in to work on a
Sunday evening?  Anyway, I guess Lucy was courteously letting me know where
she would be.

   Just the week before, she had announced she was joining the run club at
school.  There was no track or cross-country team for elementary schools.
But this club was meant to help interested kids get in shape and ready for
the junior high teams.  The club was organized by the P.E.  teacher, who
preferred everyone call him "Coach" even though he didn't coach anything to
my knowledge.  Run club primarily met after school and jogged around the
playground track.  But I guess part of being in the club was that you ran a
little every day on your own to build up endurance.

   I looked up from my homework to acknowledge her and did a double take.
She didn't own running clothes and was wearing her P.E.  outfit to run in.
It had been months since I last saw her in shorts and her legs were soooo
long.

   The outfit was several years old and starting to get a little small. 
No, upon further review, this outfit had been purchased for a little girl
and the almost teenager wearing it now had outgrown it all over.  But it
wasn -(TM)t worth buying a whole  -~nother outfit just for a couple more
months when she would be done with elementary school P.E.  for good.

   The tee shirt was gray and had "Jenkins" ironed in blocky white letters
across the back.  It barely reached her waist, and the sleeves were too
short.  The athletic shorts were purple and made from plain cotton with no
pockets.  The outfit wasn't designed to be sexy in any way, but the
designer must not have planned on Lucy wearing it.

   Her bottom had ripened further in secret over the winter and filled
every inch of the shorts completely, pulling them up to show off every inch
of her long, contoured legs.  Her top had also swelled in secret.  It was a
good thing mom had started buying her real bras, because those boobs sure
didn't look like they needed training anymore.  She finished off the look
with ankle socks and sneakers.

   I had been so surprised by this young lady's sudden appearance that,
after she left, I ran to the window to get another look.  She took off
jogging down the road, her long hair in a simple ponytail swishing back and
forth as she ran.  She ran comfortably, like she was built for it.  Her
hips rotated and her bottom bounced in time with each stride.  It was
probably a little too early in the season and more chilly than a casual
runner would prefer.  But knowing Lucy, she wouldn't let a little thing
like that stop her from something she was determined to do.

   After that day, I gradually saw signs of the old Lucy I knew returning.
She smiled more and took to wearing less bulky clothes around the house. 
She started cracking jokes about me again, which was nice to hear, even if
a little annoying.  She continued jogging daily and would talk excitedly
about a school-wide drawing contest happening later in the year that she
thought she could win.  She had a real talent for making life-like images.
I didn't know about the other contestants, but from the looks of her
drawings, I wouldn't bet against her.

   It turns out another trait of the old Lucy also returned around that
time: the urge for excitement.  Dad's risk-taking genes were strong in her
and she once again turned to me to scratch that itch.  One Saturday morning
in March she came into my room way too early and woke me up.

   "Mikey" someone whispered.  I woke and cracked my eyes.  It was still
dark outside even with the days getting longer.  So, it must have been
super early.

   "Mikey" the voice said again, just as quiet but I recognized it as my
sister's.

   "Go back to sleep" I muttered at her, pulling the sheet over my head. 
But she wouldn't be denied.

   "I can't sleep" she replied a little louder, as if that somehow gave her
the right to disturb my own.  I ignored her, but she didn't leave. 
Instead, I could hear her pacing anxiously.  Right when I was about to
drift off, she spoke again.

   "Dare me, Mikey"

   That sure woke me up.  I hadn't heard those words in months.  I can't
say I never expected to hear them from her again.  But this was totally out
of the blue with no context whatsoever.  It wasn't a special occasion.  We
weren't with a babysitter.  There was no catalyst for her request.  And it
was the middle of the damn night.

   I sat up and rubbed my eyes, still quite disoriented.  She was standing
in the middle of my room, little more than an outline in the dark.  The
pajamas she had worn to bed that evening struck a recognizable silhouette.
It was a comfortable tank top with oversized holes around the arms and
neck, and shorts covered in ruffles all over.  It was nothing a young lady
would want to be seen out and about in, but not indecent for lounging
around the house.

   She rudely flipped the switch on the wall, and I groaned as light
assaulted my eyes.  Now I was mad.  But she didn't seem to care.  She asked
me again.  This time I detected a strange but familiar edge in her voice.

   "Dare me, Mikeeeeey......please?"

   When I didn't react, she stomped her foot and started to whine out
another "Mikeeeeeee" before I cut her off.  God, she could still be an
annoying little brat when she wanted to.  In the light I could see more
than just her outline.  The pajamas were bright, assaulting 90 -(TM)s
colors.  But beneath her shirt, she wore one of her cute new bras.  It was
a real one, not a training bra, white with pale pink trim.  Even some of
the intricate detail on the little cups encasing the growing orbs on her
chest were visible through the comically large holes in her tank top.

   The waistband of her shorts had elastic, but it was not very strong and
sagged slightly under the weight of all those ruffles.  The shorts were at
least a size too big and would have fit better on a grown woman -(TM)s
hips. On her it sank so low that the entire waistband of her pink panties
was showing.  It was the same shade and material as her bra.  She didn't
seem to care in the least that her big brother could tell she was wearing a
matching lingerie set beneath her pajamas.  She seemed much more concerned
with finding out if I was going to help her or not.

   "OK, Goosey.  Um....." I said, stalling for time.  She swayed back and
forth, her whole body tensed in anticipation, while I tried to come up with
something for her to do.  But I wasn't exactly in the right mindset to
construct an elaborate and creative dare.  At that moment, more than
anything, I just wanted her off my back so I could sleep a little while
longer.  "...um, ok, go get your running shoes and come back here."

   She took off like a shot and came back carrying her sneakers and a pair
of ankle socks.  I had been expecting to use that to buy me some time, but
she was too quick.  That's when I, Michael Jenkins - creative mastermind
extraordinaire, dared my sister to go jogging in her pajamas.  Give me a
break!  I was still half asleep!

   "That it?!" she complained, understandably, when she heard the dare. 
"That's stupid!"

   I couldn -(TM)t disagree.  I had aimed too low with that one.  Still,
she didn't have to call me "stupid".  Eyeing my pillow, I threw in a few
more twists just to round it out.  With a yawn, I added, "Also, you have to
take off your bra first.  And...  you have to keep running around the
neighborhood at least until the sun comes up."

   I relaxed when I saw Lucy's eyes flutter, even if somewhat
unenthusiastically.  I closed my eyes and lay down on my pillow.  I made
her turn off the lights expecting her to leave immediately and let me
sleep. But she took her time.  First, I heard her putting her socks and
shoes on, then the sound of what must have been her removing her bra.  Even
then, she stuck around a while longer, doing who knows what and making just
enough noise to bother me.  Finally, mercifully she left, and the peace and
quiet allowed me to fall back asleep.

   I -(TM)d like to tell you all about what happened to Lucy on that jog.
How she had to keep running all over the neighborhood in her pajamas until
sun-up.  Did she hold her shorts up while she ran or let them sag down and
risk someone seeing her pink panties?  Maybe she encountered some pervy old
neighbor out walking his dog and he got a good peek down her shirt.  I'd
tell you if I could, but I admit I have no idea.  She didn't say anything
about the run, and I didn't ask.  I slept soundly and didn't wake up until
it was all over.  Win-win, right?  Only, it wasn't over.  because the next
day, she woke me up again.

   It was Sunday morning, once again well before sun-up.  I was sleeping so
soundly and having the nicest dream.  It was a recurring one of mine about
one of Lucy's classmates.  In the dream, she visited me in my bed, and we
made out and...  did a bunch of private stuff that I learned about in
sex-ed.

   Lucy might have tried to wake me up that morning with a gentle whisper,
but if she did, it didn't work.  So, she quickly moved to plan "B".  She
sat forcefully down on my bed.  An earthquake invaded my dream, and I woke
with a jarring start.  At first, I thought it was Lucy's friend come to
visit me in real life.  Then I realized it was just Lucy and I was pissed.

   "Goosey!  You woke me up!  Go away!" I snarled and tried to roll over.
She wasn't having it.

   "Mikeeeey, please.  Dare me!" When I didn't respond, she bounced on the
bed in a little tantrum, acting every bit like a spoiled 5-year-old and not
someone who was only half a year away from officially being a teenager. 
She repeated her plea.

   "Dare me, Mikey.....Mikeeeeeeey.  Dare Me!"

   Hopes of returning to my erotic dream slipped away as this little child
continued to bounce annoyingly on the bed.  I relented and told her to get
her shoes again.  I was a little more prepared this time when she returned
and covered my eyes before she once again flooded the room with light.  But
I was not prepared for what I saw when I peeked out.  She was wearing a
nightgown.  Mom had stopped buying her nightgowns long ago.  But she must
have had some old ones floating around the back of her closet.

   I was about to give her the same dare as last night, but she wasn't
wearing a bra this time, so I had to pick on something else.  Her panties
were an obvious choice.  It was a little more risky than last night.  The
childish gown was way too small for her tween frame and from my low angle
on the bed, I could clearly see her panties peeking out beneath the hem. 
And that was her standing still with her arms at her side.  Once she
started jogging, there was no way that gown alone would be able to keep her
privates covered.

   Her eyes fluttered weakly when I dared her to go jogging in her
nightgown with no panties on.  Just like last time, she flipped the lights
off, then went about her business of getting ready.  But this time, I
stayed awake and watched.  There was enough moonlight coming in that I
could tell when she pulled her panties off and stepped out of them.  Then
she bent over at the waist and put on her socks and shoes.  Even in the
dark, I could see the hem of her nightgown rise leaving her bare bottom
sticking up in the air while she was bent over.

   She got her shoes on and started doing some stretches.  That made sense.
A runner wasn't supposed to go out on a jog without warming up first.  She
performed various maneuvers, bending at the waist and touching her toes,
then pulling one foot up at a time to stretch out her leg muscles. 
Whenever she raised her arms high above her head, the nightgown pulled up
all the way to her waist.  I swear I could see the outline of her nude
pussy lips as she stretched, even in the dark.  Well, maybe it was my
imagination.

   Once she was sufficiently warmed up, she left, rudely leaving her
panties behind on my floor.  I closed my eyes, frustrated to have two
nights in a row ruined.  But I couldn't fall asleep, so I eventually gave
up and went down to have a super early breakfast.  I ate a bowl of cereal
then sulked tiredly.  She returned after sun-up looking equally sour.  I
was surprised to see her enter the kitchen and start making her own bowl of
cereal.  It didn't fit her pattern.  Usually after a dare, she was eager to
go straight to her room for some private time.  But she just sat there
eating in her incredibly short nightgown and running shoes and glaring at
me.

   I said something to her, just small talk, but she snapped at me. 
Eventually, she left to take a shower.  The snapping didn't stop there and
continued all day.  By that afternoon, I was snapping back at her.  I
didn't know what got into me, but she was just being so mean.  I decided
everyone was allowed to have a bad day now and then and just resolved to
avoid her for the rest of the day.

   That evening, I was in my room trying to study for school the next day.
I had an earth science test coming up, but I was so tired and had trouble
concentrating.  I figured if Lucy woke me up again tomorrow, no amount of
preparation would help because I would sleep right through my test.  So,
while I studied, I also contemplated that problem.

   I was at my wits end.  Something was off with her, and I couldn't shake
the feeling that it had something to do with the dares.  She had come to me
with a familiar look on her face - that need to scratch an itch.  But she
had never kept coming back night after night like this.  Something wasn't
right.  But what?

   At a loss, I returned to my studies, trying to focus on the difference
between magma and lava and how minerals were formed.  What is the
definition of plate tectonics?  What are the necessary ingredients for
diamonds, the hardest material on Earth?  Heat, Pressure, and Time. 
Ingredients.  Heat....Pressure....Time.  Ingredients......

   I stared absently at the page in my textbook about diamonds, distracted
but also tired.  A funny thought struck me.  Heat, Pressure, Time.  It
almost kind of fit Lucy in a weird way.  When she asked for a risky dare,
it put her under a lot of pressure.  And she always got turned on as a
result.  So, her own body's hormones supplied the heat.  I suppose that
would make the diamonds in this analogy what inevitably happened after the
dare was over in the privacy of her room, heh.  Only, the last two times...

   Slowly a theory formed in my brain about what had been going wrong
lately.  What if the two recent jogging dares simply weren't daring enough
to create the pressure she needed for diamonds to form?  They were too
boring and didn't cause her to produce any heat.  She sure didn't look
turned-on when I saw her at breakfast.

   Maybe she needed me to figure out a way to give her bigger, ahem,
diamonds.  Obviously, more pressure would work.  But that was the problem.
My creative dare juices were tapped out.  I seemed to do better when I was
into it.  But I couldn't get into it if she wasn't into it.  Maybe if she
didn't keep waking me up from a dead sleep expecting me to come up with
something on the spot.  Ugh!  I almost despaired thinking I had hit another
dead end.

   I frantically looked back at the textbook, as if the answer was
somewhere hidden on the page.  Stupid, I know.  But believe it or not, it
did give me a notion to build on.  Heat, Pressure, Time.  The amounts
didn't matter, the book said.  Given enough time, even a moderately low
amount of heat and pressure could make a diamond.  I had already determined
that I had no realistic way to increase the pressure.  And her body
supplied the heat.  That just left time.

   ...or did it?  I circled back to heat.  What if my assumption that the
jogging dares hadn't produced any heat was wrong?  What if they did produce
a little, but she was dissipating it all in between?  That's it!  That's
the answer!

   Lucy was a diamond factory.  In the past, a single dare provided enough
pressure all at once to create a big enough diamond to satiate her for a
long time.  But if my theory was correct, that wasn't the only way.  I
could apply less pressure over time and get the same result.  Assuming she
wasn't able to dissipate the heat in the process.

   I went right to work planning.  It helped knowing I didn't have to come
up with an amazing dare in its complete form.  I just had to get her
started and keep her off balance and on edge.  Then I could improvise.  I
was good at that.  Her heat should keep building and given enough time; it
should cause her to produce a spectacular diamond.  This was going to be
fun!