Incest Seduction/Be a good girl and wash the dishes
It's probably better that you offer to wash up than wait to be asked explicitly. Especially if you're trying to be a good girl right now. You make a point to get everyone's attention before anyone can beat you to the punch and steal this from you.
"I'll take care of the dishes mommy!" You reply in a sing-song tone that sickens even you.
"Why thank you sweetie! Aren't you so perky! Such a palate cleanser. I honestly hope we can see you like this more often!" You swear she's alluding to your unclothed state again but she looks toward your big sister after her comment.
"Yeah thanks sis," replies Dawn, rising from the table with her phone in front of her face. She doesn't hand you her plate or anything, she just walks away. In fact she practically moonwalks out of the room, her phone pointing at you the entire time.
"Well I might just take a look at the garden then," notes your father as he pushes his chair back.
You weren't exactly expecting everyone to ditch so quickly. Yeah you offered to take care of things, but isn't anyone going to take a dish to the kitchen? Daddy kisses your forehead and rubs your hip before wandering off.
"Zack, baby, I was thinking... Maybe you'd like me to give you a hand in the laundry room. I'd be happy to toss your load for you."
"Thanks mom. If you're doing that maybe I'll help Kim clear the table."
Mom doesn't look entirely satisfied with that response but she sighs and nods. She makes a point of rounding the table and planting a peck on your brother's cheek before heading off to check out his load. Meanwhile your brother does help stack a couple of dishes, at least until Mom is out of the room.
"You really do want to win this bet, huh?"
You scrunch up your nose. "What does this have to do with the bet?"
"No one volunteers to do chores. I'm assuming you offered so you could avoid me hauling you upstairs after breakfast." That would have been smart, but you were just following Mom's weird vibes. "Or maybe you were looking for another excuse to stand naked in the middle of the room while everyone watches. Too bad your audience left."
Feigning innocence, you shrug before lifting a stack of dishes. "Some of us are just helpful, you know."
Zack follows you to the kitchen where you deposit your tableware on the counter. Turning on the faucet to fill up the sink you then collect the pots and pans that were left on the stove. You try to act natural through all this despite your nerves as you want to show yourself off to your brother as confidently as possible, to make him feel comfortable, and to give him lots of opportunities to check you out without you 'noticing'. He does seem to watch you with interest but with just as much incredulity.
"This can't be the first time you've done this. Is there even a bet? Or is everyone else just over this already?"
"Of course there is!" You pause a moment to squirt some dish soap under the running water then tossing the pots and pans. You turn to your brother indignantly before continuing. "You think I'm doing this cuz I like it?"
Your brother takes a long look up and down your nude form, contemplating your question. "Kinda, yeah. I guess I do. Come to think of it, that's probably why you like yoga so much. Skin tight clothes, posing and bending, those pre-workout selfies you love to post... I think Mom's right. You're kind of into this, at least a little."
"Ugh. Shows what you know." You wave your hand dismissively but you're less sure of yourself than ever. "You're just... This is a bet with mom, pure and simple. And a bet's a bet. Period."
"Uh huh. So it's just a coincidence that you agreed to a bet where you'd have to get completely naked...?"
You're starting to feel defensive now. You turn off the water. "Yeah, well who's the perv standing next to me?"
"I can go if you want," Zack threatens, pushing away from the counter.
"No," you are very quick to reply. "I mean... I could use the company. You can stay. I don't mind."
Zack grins. "Alright. I'll be your audience."
"Argh!" Pulling out a pair of rubber gloves, you try to hold them menacingly. "You better be nice to me or I'll stick these somewhere you won't like!"
"Oh no! Don't stick them up your butt!" he mocks.
"No, up yours!"
"No, I would like that too much. You should lookup prostate massage. It's a thing." You curl your lips into a snear and he pushes some more. "But I'd hate to watch your virgin butt takes its first rubber fisting."
You're not as experienced as your brother with these kinds of things so you can't come up with a good comeback about fisting. So you turn back to the sink and pull on a glove. "Yeah well don't worry, I don't do that kind of thing."
"Unless it's a bet with Mom."
You spin back and slap him with the second glove. Zack laughs and protects himself. "Gah! You're so aggravating sometimes!"
"And you're too funny. I bet you would stick that up your butt if Mom was asking."
"I would not."
"Aw, come on. I thought you liked weird bets now?"
"Only ones I can win!" you shoot back. "And I'm going to!"
There's a moment of silence allowing you to finally turn your attention to the dishes. Zack just watches, clearly pondering something, but he's not watching like he was before (or how you hoped he was). You feel so much more naked with gloves on, so it's unnerving having your dreamy older brother daydream beside your threadbare body. You're about to ask him to spit it out when he spills it himself.
"So you do like weird bets?"
Looking to the side you glare at your brother quizzically, but you can't deny being intrigued, simply because it's him. "Uh-oh. What are you thinking?"
"I bet you that your yoga butt isn't as tight as you think it is."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He reaches past you into the sink to go fishing then lifts his quick catch into the air for you to admire. "I bet you can't hold this spatula in your butt for 5 minutes."
"Zack!" With a hearty laugh he immediately slips it back into the water, amused with himself. "You're so gross! I'm not sticking a spatula up my butt!"
"No, no, not up it! Jesus... Like this."
You have to grip the counter when Zack shockingly slips the edge of his hand up between your cheeks, like he went in for a handshake much too low. All it takes is a quick wiggle and the edge of a finger nestles itself right up to your asshole. But then he remains still, mostly, save for the odd tug this way or that. For a second you were sure a finger was going straight up your butt - that's just the kind of morning it's been - so having his hand simply rest between your cheeks is somehow relieving, even though that act itself is far beyond indecent. You can only stare straight ahead for now, hardly able to believe what he just did as your ass clenches over his digits.
The prolonged silence is all but granting him permission to use your butt like a hand holster. You're patiently waiting for him to pull away, but get increasingly nervous when he doesn't. It's an exciting kind of nervous since it's your brother, but still nervous. What is he even waiting for? Hasn't he made his point? Or are both of you waiting for the other's reaction?
You finally glance at him meekly. "O-okay. I get it."
His hand lingers for just a bit longer. It's clear he's trying to push your boundaries or make you chicken out of all this or something. He smirks to himself when he pulls his hand away. Then, trying to embarrass you even more, he lifts his hand, makes a face, and sniffs his fingers. If he had made the face afterward it might have been more believable, but when he lifts his hand for a second subtle sniff you're reasonably certain that your butt doesn't smell. Not like what he was expecting anyway. However, worried that he could be smelling dad's dick, you don't even acknowledge his juvenile jab at you and instead turn back to your chore.
"Anyway... So? Ready yoga girl? You think you can do it?"
"Of course I can. But..." You're not going to say that you won't. You really like your brother so you'd probably do worse if he asked. You just don't want to rush blindly into another bet like you did with mom's, especially after your brother pointed out how eager you must have been to be so careless before. "What if I lose?"
"What if you lose? Are you so worried that you're gonna lose that's the first thing you can think about? Not what you get if you win?"
Your priorities are a bit messed up. It's probably a lot easier to lose a bet than win it, but you're no longer exuding confidence right now. After a pause to think about it you try to turn it back around on your big brother. "I'm not gonna lose. I just want to know what you want from me."
"What I want? I mostly want to see you make a fool of yourself. Holding a spatula with your ass should suffice," he says chuckling.
"Har har." You pout and flip your ponytail trying to refocus his attention. "But is there anything you want from me?" You repeat with emphasis. Turning away from the counter, you put one of your arms behind your back to help give your older sibling an unfettered view of your toned teen figure. He drinks in the sight for a moment before looking up into your eyes. If anything there's a guilty glint to his gaze after eyeballing you like that but you don't mind at all. If anything you wish he'd look at you like that more often.
"You can, um... y'know, finish my laundry or something."
"Mom's doing your laundry."
"Yeah, or something, whatever."
"Or something..." you repeat with a smile, tilting your head.
"Sure, I dunno. We'll call it a favour. What about you?"
"Yeah, I'd be willing to give you a favour," you reply, trying your best to sound sultry.
"Uh, no... what would you want if you win the bet?"
"Oh." Yeah that. You still haven't considered it. If anything you had already been thinking about losing on purpose. But maybe you could get something even better out of this if you try. "If I win...? Then you have to... get naked with me." A rather genuine smile crosses your face when you say this. The thought of 'innocently' hanging out with your naked big brother really does tickle you.
Meanwhile your brother is beset with a confused smirk. "What? Really, Kimmy? That's what you want? I'd ask you what you had for breakfast this morning if I didn't just watch you eat it."
"What's wrong? You chicken?" You poke him in the chest with a wet rubber finger to antagonize him.
"Naw, of course not," he quickly assures you, puffing his chest. "I'm just trying to feel you out."
"...Did you need to feel me some more?" You almost didn't get it out. It was a little too honest of a clever comeback. You can already feel your ears burning as you push yourself through this unnatural and unseemly bit of flirting with your literal kin. You only wish you didn't have to flirt with him. Part of you wants to just bend yourself over this counter and spread your cheeks. The only thing stopping you from doing so is your desire for him to do it more.
"No. I guess you are serious after all. Honestly I was just teasing at first but..." he reaches past you and retrieves the spatula from the water again. "A bet's a bet, right? How long was that again? 20 minutes?"
You shoot a playful glare. "You said 5."
"How about... until you finish the dishes. This can be the last thing you wash. Take it out before then and you lose."
Of course he's changing the terms on you now that he's worried about losing himself. But when you look down into the sink that doesn't seem so bad a deal. There's less to do than you remember. If you wash everything really fast it might only take you two minutes, not five.
"Fine. Deal."
"Okay then. Well..."
Now that he's menacingly holding this tool in his hand and ready to give it to you, your muscles forget how to move. He twirls a finger instructing you to turn around and it takes longer than it should for you to figure out how to do that. Glancing back over your shoulder you watch your sibling squat behind you and pull one of your bum cheeks to the side. Bet or not, never ever did you think you'd actually get your brother to do anything like this to you.
Zack seems to take an inappropriately long look between your spread open cheeks before he slots the spatula into position. Like his hand before, he wiggles the cooking utensil into place, sliding the soapy handle up and down and rubbing it deep in the crack of your ass. To press the edge so forcibly against your asshole he has to pull up on it quite firmly and the butt end of the handle ends up grazing the underside of your pussy with every little wiggle he makes. It feels weirdly good for him to rub your starfish but teasing your pussy like this is just mean. Then again you don't need to have your pelvis rolled so far back right now either, so that's on you.
When he closes up your cheek you make a startling discovery; this is going to be harder than you thought.
It's not like you had fully thought any of this through, but you figured that you'd be able to grip a plastic handle between your cheeks with little effort. What you find is that the suds carried over from the sink have greased up your ass and you need to clench quite a lot just to keep the spatula from shifting.
"You look like a weird kitchen bunny with this back here," Zack chuckles, thumbing the head of the spatula sticking out from your cheeks.
"Quit it! You can't touch it now! Th-that's cheating."
"Alright, alright."
There's a long pause. You shuffle carefully in place to turn around and find him leaning up against the counter as before.
"I'm not sure what you're waiting for, but you should probably start washing. If you want to win that is."
You stick your tongue out then shuffle up to the edge of the sink. It's hard to focus on anything besides the slippery plastic in your butt, but you do still manage to think about your stiff nipples, your twitchy clit, and picturing your brother naked, all while frantically cleaning plates and pans. But you're only at it for a minute before there's a new distraction.
"Look mom, it's Kimmy the Rabbit!"
Mom scoffs at your brother's joke. "What are you kids up to now?"
"Isn't she cute? Give us a hop Kimmy."
"I'm not hopping," you bluntly reply.
"Is that...? Please take that out of there Kimmy. That's unsanitary to say the least," she notes, grabbing her coffee mug from the table.
Mom's request makes you stop and collect your thoughts. Zack isn't going to help you here. He wants you to lose. But how can you convince your mom to go away so you can win? For once the truth is probably best. You take a deep breath.
"I can't. It... it's a bet. I just have to finish the dishes first."
"Kimmy, Kimmy, Kimmy..." Mom shakes her head, but if anything she's grinning. As she lifts her mug to her lips, she comments with a velvety tone, "You're turning into quite the little deviant, aren't you?"
She actually wants you to respond. "Yes ma'am," you eek out.
"Fine. Finish your silly bet. Just don't forget the dishes on the table."
The table? Didn't Zack help you clear it? Sure enough, you spot 2 plates, a bowl, butter and syrup still waiting to be collected. Your brother has no desire to help you anymore and mom is already walking away. You clench your fists and silently scream your frustration. You don't think Zack did that on purpose, but it sure is working to his favor now. How can you possibly win now?
It's better to go grab those things sooner than later before your butt muscles get tired. So you step away from the sink and shuffle your way out into the dining room. You manage to find a good pace and your confidence grows as you deftly step between two chairs. But bending over the table is another story.
As soon as you reach out to grab the bowl on the far side of the table you feel the spatula slip. Your ass snaps into action and clenches extra hard to resecure your grip, but even a small amount of movement feels disastrous. The utensil is no longer buried comfortably between your cheeks and is now angled further away from you after a careless lift of one leg helped gravity to pull it away from your asshole. Thankfully you still managed to nab the bowl, so you don't need to walk around the table.
"Huh. Maybe I underestimated yoga. Or at least your ass." Zack was only sort of directing that at you, more talking to himself, since he said it barely loud enough for you to hear. All the same, you try to take it as a compliment, despite your new struggle.
Although your odd lean-and-clench might not have looked like anything from your brother's perspective, the shifting spatula feels downright precarious now. Quickly stacking everything from the table and turning back toward the kitchen, you can feel the handle shift with every shuffle, turn, and step, which promptly forces you to stop in your tracks. Standing still seems to be fine, but even small movements make you think the plastic shaft is going to drop away at any moment. Of course now that you're frozen beside the dining table your brother begins to helpfully taunt you from the other room.
How should you deal with this?