Hot Summer Job/Keep cutting
You glance down at the scissors in your hand. Tearing out that inner layer of fabric was surprisingly satisfying. There's no sense in stopping with just that.
You step forward without a word. You hook one finger into the top of your sister's suit. In one uninterrupted movement you stretch the thin elastic trim away from Bree's body, slip the opened scissors over the edge, then snip one full blade length straight down.
Bree pulls away just as the blade closes. "Riley! Don't cut it!"
You shrug, inspecting the scissors. "That's the dare sis. We're cutting your swimsuit."
Bree flattens the flaps you just made, applying pressure to the wound you just inflicted. The vertical incision has caused the tightly stretched material to pull away to either side and present a 2 inch wide gap of skin down to the center of her chest. The lycra lapels you just made are quite loose up to where the upward pull of the shoulder straps tightens the fabric again.
"But it's mine," she whines, pulling at her new lapels curiously. "And... Well, I dunno. You're not going to ruin it, are you?"
"It's not ruined, it's just different now. We're just making it... sexier. Less boring."
Bree thinks on that for a moment. "Well... How much are you cutting?"
You look your sis up and down with an evil grin. "I don't think you have a say in that. But I'm not sure yet. Let's find out."
One step forward and you're in range again. You squat down, looking over her suit straight on. It would be really fun to outright massacre the defenseless little swimming suit, but Bree might not appreciate it.