Incest Seduction/You'll just be a minute
"Umm, I'll just be a minute!"
Tentatively, nervously, you slip out of your panties and tug the g-string up your legs. The paltry underwear does not want to sit firmly against your crotch so you tug it higher, the strings hooking onto your sides, pulled well above the low waist of your skirt. Turning again, your heartbeat quickens at the thought of walking around like this, the crack of your bare ass blatantly peeking out of a crack in your skirt. And yet the butterflies in your stomach aren't clear; is this dread you're feeling or excitement?
You hurriedly untie the skirt string and make it tighter, bringing the opposing edges as close as you can to keep your bum from peeking out. The two sides are basically touching now but there's nothing to keep them that way. They can float and flap behind you as they please. WIth only a single string keeping them together. You scour the bathroom drawers for safety pins or something to clip the edges and close it up but you come up empty. You'll just have to do your best to avoid flashing people.
What you do find in a drawer is a colorful pack of rainbow hair scrunchies. You're not sure if it clashes but you like the idea of trying to make yourself look less overtly sexual. Frantically pulling the elastic out of your ponytail, you separate your hair with a brush then tie it up into a pair of high tight scrunchy pigtails. It does add a hint of personality and flair to the drab color choice of the costume but you don't have the time to admire it with more knocking on the door.
"Hey. You sure you're okay?" Zack this time.
You have definitely spent too long in here. It's frustrating because there's some scattered makeup in these drawers. You might have been able to cobble together a proper look if you hadn't spent so long inspecting your outfit, but you don't want to make your new employer mad by spending half the party in the bathroom. You settle for some cherry lip gloss, pull on the arm bands and garter, throw your pajamas and slippers in the box, and exit to the hallway. Cam takes the box back so that the two boys can get a look at you.
"Huh," is all Cam can offer. "I guess it'll do."
You were hoping for a better reaction than that. You look down and realize you never adjusted the neck straps. Everything sits weird because of that, like it's all too big for you and much too low, but that's an easy fix. Cam keeps talking as you start messing with the top strings.
"Have you waitressed before?"
You glance at Zack, who directs you back to Cam. You shake your head and Cam shrugs.
"Whatever. You'll figure it out. You just walk around and deliver stuff. Drinks go out, money comes back. Maybe cleanup a little. Drunk people are slobs."
"Um, speaking of money," you ask, still fumbling with your top. "How much will I get paid?"
"Whatever you can get," chuckles Cam. "I'm not, like, paying you. You're working for tips."
"Oh..." You suppose that makes sense. You are a waitress.
"Go see Dave. He's the one you should bring your money to. He's also got a tray you can use if you want. Other than that, just enjoy yourself. No pressure. I mostly just wanted some eye candy," he adds, half whispering to Zack. Cam almost seems disappointed with you.
"All good dude. I can show Kim around if you want. I'll join you in a few."
Cam shrugs and walks away, box in hand. Your brother steps closer to help you adjust your outfit.
"Do I look okay?" you whisper.
"Yeah, I guess."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. You look great."
"Except...?"
Zack finishes retying your top, lifting your skirt higher and making your modest 'bust' better supported, then takes a step back. "I dunno, you're just... small. For a college girl." You assume he means your tits. "The pigtails are..." You catch his eye and he rethinks his words. "Uh, a nice touch."
You sigh, feeling dejected. "How much am I supposed to get tipped? Like how much will I make?"
"Like he said, you gotta work for it. Just don't forget to ask. Some people are bad tippers and some just need convincing."
"So, like... $500?"
Zack chuckles then looks you up and down. "No. You're not making that."
Throwing your hands on your hips you scowl at your brother. "Why not? Is it because I look bad?"
"No," sighed Zack. "You just won't make that much. There's no way."
"I bet I can."
Your brother grins, amused by your apparent love of wagers. "Alright, alright. What's the bet?"
"I bet I can make $500 in tips tonight. If I can, then I... then you have to match it."
"What?"
"AND you have to wear my dress!" you quickly add, a hyper rush of giddiness hitting you with the prospect of a new bet on the table.
"That's stupid. I'm not going to give you $500."
"But I thought you said I can't make that much money?" you taunt Zack, swaying back and forth. Feeling the need to fidget you drag your fingers along the edge of the narrow strips of fabric covering your chest to satisfy your urge. If you had boobs you'd totally be spilling out of this thing. "So why are you scared?"
"I just don't have that kind of money to give away to my sister," he whispers. "And I'm not making a bet I can't keep. So pick something else."
Pouting, you wave your hand. "Okay, okay. Then you have to..." It takes you a moment but you land on exactly what you want from him. You lean close, rising to your tiptoes. "You have to do me in your dorm."
Zack glances around, worried someone might have heard, but no one seems to be upstairs. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," you nod, smiling. "What do you wanna do?"
"If I win?" Zack is still grinning. He looks you over again. "You have to go streaking."
Your eyes open wide. "What?! Like, naked? Where?"
"I dunno. Wherever I want. Football game? The mall? I'm not sure. Maybe one of my classes. I reserve the right to redeem my winnings when I see fit."
"Um, okay but you can't just make me strip naked whenever you want." You can't believe that sentence came out of your mouth. Of course you wish he would do that. You just don't want it to be in public. "Uh, I mean, you have to give me warning. And you can't do it in front of my friends. Or what if I'm on my... my period, or... I dunno. You just can't be mean to me."
Zack offers no such guarantee. "Is it a bet or not?" he pushes, getting impatient.