Difference between revisions of "Manufactured Misfortune/Day1-Anatomy-Med/Forfeit Dare"

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*[[Manufactured Misfortune/Day1-Anatomy-Med/Forfeit Dare/Pick Dare|Pick dare, you can handle whatever she's got]]
*[[Manufactured Misfortune/Day1-Anatomy-Med/Forfeit Dare/Pick Dare|Pick dare, you can handle whatever she's got]]


[[Category: Manufactured Misfortune|Addison]]
[[Category: Manufactured Misfortune|Emily]]

Latest revision as of 03:29, 7 March 2021

Dare her to put an ice cube up her butt

You toss a couple of ideas around in your head, searching for something that's extra weird without being too outlandish. "I. Dare. You. To put an ice cube up your butt."

"What! I'm not gonna..." The instant look of shock on her face assures you of your choice, but then she pushes back. "...let you beat me that easy!"

She's not actually going to do it, is she? Maybe you can make it harder.

"Oh, that's too easy? Okay. Well you know you have to keep it in until it melts, right?"

"Really?" Em scowls with disgust then tries to stay confident, waving her hand at you. "I mean, obviously. I just thought you'd ask for even more."

"Sure. You can put two in if you want to."

"No! One is fine," she insists, rising from her chair promptly to try to put an end to any more ideas.

Em rushes across the room and grabs a half empty tray of ice cubes from the freezer. You cup your hands over your crotch for some modesty since, from her more distant angle, you're not sure what she might be able to see of you sitting in the buff from the side of the table. It's more instinctive than anything, the desire to cover up, but Emily grins when she notices you doing it.

Your sister cracks a fresh frosty cube from the tray and fishes it out next to the sink then tries to discretely stick her hand under her towel while facing away from you. You're positive she can feel your eyes on her, her hand slowly lifting the bottom edge of her towel, charging forward with her task before she can convince herself not to. Your staring makes her even more self conscious then she already is and she ends up pausing to come back to the table, standing behind her chair for cover while facing you.

The wide range of wincing, squinting, and truly mortified facial expressions that cross your sister's face while her hand is pressed up under the back of her towel are some of the most amusing things you've seen all day. She keeps gasping and snarling her lip and closing one eye and shifting uncomfortably. You don't even have the presence of mind to taunt her about it. You're so entertained it doesn't even occur to you to rub it in any further.

After a minute of struggle and strife Em walks back across the room, ice cube in hand.

"Something wrong?" you ask with a shit eating grin.

"I, umm... It won't go in. It's just... it's too big. I need a smaller one."

Huh. She's more determined than you expected. You're pretty sure the ice cubes are all the same size, but she tosses her defective cube in the sink then starts poking at the others in the tray looking for a better candidate. Once she selects one she turns to walk back, stops herself, then rinses the ice cube under some water for a second. You try to imagine what it would be like to press a frosty ice cube to your asshole. All you can think is that the cold would sting. The square edges sure wouldn't help. But you could imagine that a wet ice cube might go in a little easier. You're almost proud of her for thinking of that, but this whole thing feels a little too degrading for anyone to appreciate any fleeting sense of pride

Back behind her chair, Em opens her legs a little more and gets up on her tip toes, really committing to this now. She winces again and her mouth drops open.

"Ooohhhhhh..." she groans, starting to lean over the back of the chair. She keeps gasping and shuddering, one hand hanging onto her towel as the other advances her cube. Her eyes are unfocused, kinda foggy looking, her eyelids fluttering as she blinks through her grief. She clearly doesn't realize it, but from your vantage point it totally looks like she's cumming. Worse than that, like she's choosing to orgasm right in front of you, bent over, leaning closer just to rub it in. You can't help but stroke your dick a little under the table watching her shudder and groan like this. If that strained twitchy expression she's giving you doesn't resemble her O-face then you're not sure what would.

Em holds her breath, slowly starts to right herself, then yelps, her body jerking. She squats a little as both hands shoots under her towel and a moment later she walks away with another melting ice cube in her hand.

"I can't! I can't do it. It's freezing!"

"Duh," you smirk. "It's ice. Did you actually get it all the wa-"

"Nuh-uh! Nope! You don't get to ask a truth too!" She is very quick to shut down that question. Is she embarrassed that she couldn't get it in, or humiliated that she did? She washes her hands quickly then pats them dry on the bottom corner of the towel she's wearing, flashing the side of her bare hip as she does so. "I just couldn't do it, okay? I'd much rather be indentured for two more hours than put up with another second of that."

"Alright, alright. Then I suppose it's my turn again."

Em carefully sits back down then plants her hands on her waist and leans toward you before declaring snarkily, "Damn straight it is! And you'd better pick dare!"