Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. >Dare Me by neverdoubted Dare Me - Chapter 13 - Hardship Study Buddy (Part 13) The eighth day of Lucy's dare ended up being among the most humiliating experiences of her life to that point. I awoke with a smile and an erection so big, it hurt. I wrongly assumed that by mid-morning, both it and her dare would be addressed and resolved. Eager to get on with my day and full of excess energy, I jumped out of bed and started getting dressed. I was on a mission. All I had to do was pass that stupid test. Fourth time's a charm, right? But my priorities were disrupted almost immediately by the sound of a disagreement coming from somewhere downstairs. Mom was using her upcoming day off to pursue some promising leads. In addition to checking out some sales positions which sounded similar to her old job, Aunt Julie had finally convinced her to consider becoming a car show booth attendant. I thought it was a mistake to even apply for that one but kept my opinion to myself. I located the girls in the kitchen in the later stages of a heated argument. Mom had packed a small overnight bag for her trip and was already wearing a nice business outfit for interviewing. Lucy, as usual, was completely naked. Having not been around for the argument's inception, I couldn't be sure of the root cause. But I gathered it had something to do with the mess. Lucy, likely overflowing with her own pent-up energy, had decided to spend first light tackling her lately neglected garden. Putting the visual clues together, I figured out that, at some point, she had needed one of those large trash bags that hold yard clippings from the garage. Rather than going around the outside or cleaning herself up first, she had just traipsed right through the middle of the house. Her oversized gardening boots had left mud tracks everywhere she stomped. Mom had tried to call Lucy out on it. But being notoriously bad at confrontation, her toothless warnings had only inflamed Lucy's indignance. By the time I arrived, the disagreement had spilled beyond its original bounds and into marginally related grievances. They were trading barbs at a rapid pace, nearly talking over each other. I tried to get their attention and break up the verbal sparring. But their eyes were locked on each other, each one refusing to look away or back down to engage me, making my initial attempts unsuccessful. I kept listening, though, and waited for an opening to present itself. "-I'm doing the best I can to provide for you kids," mom was saying, "the least you can do is show some respect for your things. Would it be so hard to grab a broom and clean up after yourself every once in a while?" "Not like anyone would even notice the difference, mother." "I would notice. I take pride in our possessions, and I expect my children to do the same." "What possessions? We're so poor, our most valuable possession is this piece of crap!" Lucy swept her arm derisively toward the centerpiece sitting on the breakfast table. It was a large glass cylinder with a white candle in the middle and a green plastic wreath around the outside. No one would mistake it for a valuable possession. She had only chosen the nearest object to punctuate her point. But she misjudged her swinging arm. Her exaggerated gesticulation accidentally tipped over the glass tube and sent it tumbling to shatter upon the kitchen tile. Sensing the situation spinning out of control, I moved closer until I was standing right behind Lucy who didn -(TM)t acknowledge me in the least. "Hey," I tried to speak with a voice of authority, "that's enough from both of you. There's no need to-" but mom cut me off before I could finish. It kind of pissed me off that they were both ignoring me so completely. "That's just great! Just keep adding to your pile of slop. Go get the broom and clean this mess up, young lady!" "Why are you so obsessed with that stupid broom, Deborah? Or should I say 'warden'?" "Lucy," I interjected, this time more threateningly, "you can't talk to mom like that. You have to be more-" "You wake up and don't even care enough to put on clothes!" Mom jumped in, interrupting me again. "Well, just because you would rather live like a pig, doesn't mean you get to turn our house into a pigsty! BROOM! NOW!" "Well, just because you love brooms so much, doesn't give you an excuse to be such a witch! So, you can just-" SMACK! Lucy had gone too far with that insult. Calling mom a bitch was the last straw. Since no one was listening to my words, and since her naked bottom was already bared right in front of me as the perfect target, I wound up and sent my open palm flying with all my might right at her backside and connected solidly on the plumpest part of her bottom. I wasn't lashing out in anger. It just seemed like the most direct way to get her attention and communicate my disapproval of how she was treating mom. And it was quite effective. The single, loud smack stopped her mid-sentence as she yipped adorably and turned to face her unexpected assailant. She noticed me for the first time, staring wide-eyed and bewildered. Then, as the pain fully registered, she reached up and started to rub the spot where I had struck her bottom. Using her full name like I had seen mom do before to show I meant business, I began speaking, calmly, but with a quiet edge in my voice. "Lucy Marie Jenkins, we do NOT resort to name calling in this house." She should have repented right then but was still wound up and stuck in confrontation mode. "Ok, but you can -(TM)t just s...s...spank me!" As she uttered those dreadful words, her eyes started to well up. Even though mom never employed corporal punishment on us growing up, for some reason, Lucy had a thing about spankings. You could call it an irrational fear, or a hang-up. Whatever you call it, when she was younger, the threat alone was usually enough to make her behave. Mom, relieved to have found an ally in me and struck upon (pardon the pun) a way to keep Lucy's out of control attitude in check, chimed in. "And why not? I think it's a great idea. Michael, from now on, feel free to spank anyone under this roof who engages in name calling." As she processed mom's new house rule, Lucy regarded my hand warily, as if it might suddenly decide to strike her delicate bottom again. Then a thought came to her. Sensing justice being metered out unequally, she spoke up. "Wait a minute," she said in accusation, "mom just called me a pig! How come she didn't get a spanking?" Her logic was sound. Mom basically had called Lucy a pig. And when you really think about it, a witch isn't any worse an insult. But I drew the line at spanking my own mother. At a loss what to do, I looked over at mom for guidance. She considered Lucy's argument for a moment, then made up her mind. "You're right, Lucy. I shouldn't have called you a pig, and for that, I'm sorry." she said, walking over to me. Then, shockingly, she turned her back to me and leaned over slightly. Resting her palms on the breakfast table, she said, "Go ahead, Michael." I guess she wanted to be seen as a team player. Justice for all. Lucy, still rubbing the sting from her bottom, wiped away the tear that had started to well up in the corners of her eyes and looked at me expectantly. What else could I do? With a blush forming on my cheeks, I reached out and gave my mother a half-hearted smack on her bottom. "Hey!" Lucy squealed, sounding not much unlike the aforementioned pig she had just been accused of behaving like; but I wouldn't dare make that comparison aloud, "You didn't spank her nearly as hard as me! Plus, she had clothes for padding. No fair!" Gathering my thoughts, I fully intended to make a case for why Lucy's demands were unreasonable. Ok, perhaps I hadn't delivered my second swat with the same force and vigor as I had with Lucy -(TM)s. But it was enough to drive the message home. Furthermore, it would be patently absurd to require my own mother to submit to a bare bottomed spanking. But before I could begin voicing my objection, mom caved. "I guess that makes sense," she said, "but, since you're suddenly so interested in fairness, you have to apologize to me, first." After Lucy muttered a rather weak "sorry I called you a witch", mom, to my utter astonishment, pulled her gray skirt and panties down and leaned over the bar once again. Reveling in her small victory, Lucy stopped rubbing her bottom and crossed her arms. Her bare foot tapped the ground impatiently. She stared at me, scrutinizing my every move, as if I intended to pull a fast one over on her and it was up to her to make sure I did my job properly this time. Realizing my mouth was hanging open, I quickly shut it before someone noticed. My mind raced to figure out some other way out of the situation. Coming up empty, I sighed and did what was expected of me; mostly to end the uncomfortable silence. Winding up, and being sure not to hold back this time, I gave mom's larger, but now equally bare, bottom a giant smack. She yipped exactly like her daughter had done and tensed her whole body as the stinging, corrective punishment reverberated through her. From the strained look on her face, I feared that perhaps I had gone a little too hard. But after a couple second, she relaxed and stood up. Embarrassed, I looked away while mom pulled her skirt and panties back into place. Addressing Lucy, I said, "Now, young lady, go get the broom and clean up this glass." This time, apparently satisfied by the justice served, she did not protest. Once she was out of the room, mom turned to me with a smile. I could hear the relief in her voice. "Thank you, Michael," she said, "you don't know how hard it is being responsible for everything all the time. I really appreciate how much you've stepped up and been helping with things lately." I could hardly believe my ears. I had just spanked my own mother...and she was thanking me?! She rambled on contemplatively, "...I still don't know what's gotten into her lately. With that attitude, and refusing to wear clothes...now name calling? She just wouldn't listen to me until you came along and gave her what she really needed. I guess you'll just have to take over of the punishment duties from now on. Anyway, I need to get going. I -(TM)ll be back tomorrow. - I nodded. And just like that, I was the official family disciplinarian. I didn't ask for it, and I'm still not quite sure how it happened. But somehow, the mantle fell to me. Dare Me - Chapter 13 - Hardship Study Buddy (Part 14) Keeping a stern face, I watched Lucy sweep up the broken glass. While she worked, I debated whether she had been punished enough for her crime or if her egregious behavior warranted further disciplinary action. I could still see the red tint on her bottom where my solitary spank had landed. But it was already fading back to her normal porcelain skin color and would be completely gone in another minute. But the lesson would surely stick with her for much, much longer. She was slowed by having to step carefully and keep her eyes trained on the floor to protect her bare feet. At one point, she did look up to ask a question. "Aren't you supposed to be taking your test right now?" I would be if I wasn't stuck babysitting my insolent little sister. "Don't worry about that. Just keep sweeping," I replied sternly. My answer did not satisfy her. The sooner I passed my test, the sooner her dare was over, and she could get on with...you know. It occurred to me that her arousal was not dissipating fast enough for comfort. In fact, it was very possible all that pent-up frustration was contributing to her irritation and animus toward mom that morning. So, she had a keen interest in knowing how much longer she would have to endure the sexual pressure inside her which she wasn't allowed to relieve otherwise. "But...you said you were going to go first thing and pass your test," she started to whine. "I changed my mind. I'm allowed to do that. Or do I have to run all my decisions by you, now?" I challenged. Realizing she was pushing her luck; she shut her mouth and went back to sweeping. Working with care, she was able to get all the glass pieces swept up. As she was putting the broom away, I softened and started to convince myself to go easy on her. Boy did that turn out to be a mistake! I expected her to return to the kitchen and ask for further instructions. I intended to give her one more verbal warning before releasing her for the day. But after a few minutes, when she didn't return, I had to go looking for her. Walking down the hall, I was remined about the muddy tracks still on the wooden floor and why mom and Lucy had started arguing in the first place. Then I heard a familiar sound coming from the living room. The cheer tape! Sure enough, I found her in the living room dressed in her cheer accessories following along with her training video. I crossed the room, reaching the television in four ominous strides. Turning it off and ejecting the tape, I turned to face her. "Who said you could be finished?" I asked. "I thought you said to sweep up the glass," she replied, her voice dripping with a syrupy innocence. A feeble excuse. "Yeah, but mom said to clean up the rest of your mess, too. You didn't listen to her and just went off to do whatever you wanted instead. So, now I want you to mop every single room on the first floor that isn't carpeted," I decreed. "Mikeeey, that's too hard," she argued, "I don't know how. Plus, we don't even own a mop! Can't you help me?" Punctuating her question, she absently folded her hands together in front of her in a pleading gesture and fluttered her eyelashes at me. I was briefly distracted by the way it subtly pulled her breasts together adorably and caused them to stick out further. She was doing it again! Yes, it appeared to be involuntary. But I was on to her. She was using her feminine charms to persuade me into helping her. So much for going easy on her. "NO," I shot back angrily, "You made the mess by yourself, and you're going to clean it up by yourself. Now, stop trying to come up with excuses. I want you to march right over to Mr. Beski's house and ask to borrow his mop. I'm sure he would be glad to loan it to you." When she didn't start moving right away, I added, "or would you rather I come up with some other punishment?" She glanced down at my spanking hand and jumped into action. I watched her retreat from the room then heard the front door slam. Satisfied, I sat down to again await her return. Sure, it was mildly humiliating to make her walk over to Mr. Beski's house and ask to borrow a mop without any clothes on. But she had been naked around him plenty of times and I knew she could handle the short walk. It wasn -(TM)t very long at all before the front door opened and closed once again. In fact, it wasn't nearly long enough. Lucy rushed back into the room panting and with a look of fear in her eyes. "Where's the mop?" I asked, not bothering to mask the irritation in my voice. Was she really trying to defy me? "I can't, Mikey," she explained, "there are cars in Mr. Beski's driveway. Like he has a bunch of visitors right now, or something. I can't go over there. Not like this...please!" Curious, I went outside onto the porch and looked down the street. Sure enough, his driveway, even the street in front of his house, was full of cars I didn't recognize. Apparently, her dare was interfering with her ability to complete the task as assigned. Normally, that wouldn -(TM)t be my problem to solve. But I hadn't intended to send her over naked in front of a bunch of people she didn't even know and try to borrow a mop. "How about a trade?" I offered, "I'll get your mop, but you have to do something else for me." "Please, Mikey," Lucy called out breathlessly from the relative safety of the cracked front door, "I'll do anything. Just don't make me go over there right now!" "Are you sure?" I teased, "anything sure does cover a lot of things." She nodded vigorously. Trading favors with me in the middle of a dare was a pretty stupid thing to do. It ended up costing her dearly. But she was desperate. Before her panting progressed into a full-on panic attack, I offered my terms. "OK, fine, calm down. I'll get your stupid mop," I said. Then, looking her seriously in the eyes, I added, "but in exchange, some things are gonna change around here. To start, enough with the entitled princess routine. I want to see the normal, pleasant, Lucy greet me when I get back. No more snarky outburst, no more arguing, and no more attitude, got it?' With one more heaving breath, she brought herself under control and said "yes". "Good. If you can keep it up for the rest of the day, I might decide to take my test tomorrow. But no promises. Now, I'll be right back. I suggest you use the time to compose yourself. There better be a perfect little helpful angel waiting for me." She nodded again, and as I headed across the street, I abandoned the dream of taking my test that day. It was worth waiting to get the old, docile Lucy back. Maybe she could help me study a little after she had finished mopping. And if she behaved, I could let her watch her cherished cheer video for a while. Hell, I wouldn't turn down another chance to watch Nikki and her squad hit the showers. There were indeed strange cars at Mr. Beski's house. When his daughter, who was as old as mom, answered the door, she looked like she had been crying. I asked to borrow his mop, and when she retrieved it, she explained that Mr. Beski had taken a turn for the worse and was currently in hospice care. I was so naive, I thought that meant he had gone to the hospital for a while. Had I known he was dying, and I that I would never see him again, I might have gotten a little more choked up. Instead, I merely gave condolences and offered to bring them a bouquet courtesy of Blooms by Lucy. "That's so sweet of you, young man," she answered. "Stephen has always spoken fondly of your family; particularly you and your sister. You've both been so kind to him in his later years, visiting and spending so much time with him. You two are truly a blessing. Stephen said you were studying to get your hardship license so you can get a job and help out your family. I think that's just wonderful!" "Yeah, um, no problem," I fumbled over my response. After giving her an awkward, nodding smile, she mercifully continued. "In fact, he made his wishes very clear that he wants you to have his car. I can't think of a better home for it. As soon as you get your license, it's yours!" Holy shit! "Wow, I...I don't know what to say! Thanks, uh, ma'am. I mean, thank you, so much! And, if there's..um, anything you need from us..." "Well, there is one thing," she replied, "my family has gathered from all over, and, as you can see, things are pretty hectic around here. We don't even have all our sleeping arrangements figured out yet! Since it's just the two of you and your mother, I don't suppose you have a little extra room for the night. My Joey is about your sister's age, and I believe they've even met once before. Would you be willing to let him stay the night at your house? It would sure help us out to free up some floor space." Holy, holy shit! Joseph Beski spending the night at our house in the middle of Lucy's dare? This was working out better than I could have ever imagined! "We're happy to help," I replied cheerfully, "in fact, why don't you go ahead and send him over? I'm sure Lucy would love to see him again. He can spend the whole day with us!"