The Present, Part 7

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Part Seven

Both legs, fully shaved.

He felt so stupid for letting Amy talk him into doing it. Also, he had been wearing shorts before the shower. Although he had jeans and sweatpants in his suitcase, that would require stepping out into the hallway first. Knowing Amy, she’d probably be making a show of texting out there or something in order to be there right when he emerged. No matter what, she was going to get the satisfaction of seeing that he actually followed through on the task. He briefly considered wrapping a towel around himself instead of getting dressed. The problem was, it was Amy he would be dealing with. Even though they were related, he was fairly sure she would try to rip the towel away anyway in the name of seeing his smooth legs.

It turned out that she was going to be a problem long before that. “Hey, Chrissy?” The second he turned off the water, she revealed her presence in the bathroom.

He froze. Dripping and totally naked, he was mildly worried she was about to yank the curtain back. Would she go that far for more blackmail? The image of him in just panties was bad enough. Plus there was the same thought he had before–they were cousins. Smug and shameless as she was, surely Amy wouldn’t want to see him like that, whether it worked to her advantage or not.

“What do you want?” he flatly asked. Giving her any kind of reaction would just encourage her, and demanding her to get out of the guest bedroom earlier didn’t work in the slightest.

“Just wanted to tell you something. Three things actually.”

“Get to the point, Amy.”

“So moody,” she sighed, “Almost like you’re a girl. Anyway, Chloe and my mom went out to run some errands. It’s just the two of us for a little while. Isn’t that exciting?”

Well, that explained how she could be so confident about the ambush. Though this was her bathroom, that didn’t mean that they had total privacy. A single door separated them from the upstairs hallway, and anyone on the other side would potentially be able to hear what Amy was saying and realize she wasn’t the angel she pretended to be. Now, for all he knew, that door could be wide open. It wouldn’t really make a difference. “And?” he asked. Same attitude as before, particularly when it came to the teasing girl comment. He wasn’t going to dignify that with a response.

“Did you make your legs pretty, Chrissy?” she asked.

He grimaced at the way she phrased it, and slightly blushed as well. Thankfully the curtain was there, so Amy couldn’t see how easily she could get to him. Of course, he was at an enormous disadvantage at the moment. “Yes,” he simply replied. She was going to find out one way or another. On the off chance that she was recording their conversation, however, he didn’t want to directly incriminate himself.

Despite the bluntness of his response, Amy giggled in response. “Proud of you, girl. The bad news is, you took longer than ten minutes. You know what that means, right?”

Was she serious?

It had been enough of a mistake to shave without thinking it through. On top of that, his cousin had offered him a choice, and he had technically picked one. Under duress, but still. There was no way she was suggesting that her little time limit actually held any water. “Amy, no. I’m not doing that.”

“Not doing what, Chrissy? You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

Letting his annoyance get the better of him, especially while he was stuck shivering post-shower instead of being able to grab a towel and get dressed, he snapped, “I’m not wearing a fucking bra.”

“So you do remember your promise!” she exclaimed, “Also, language. Good girls don’t swear.”

Leave it to a girl like Amy to twist something like that into a promise. Chris hadn’t even agreed, which was often how the immature types later claimed, ‘You promised.’ Scowling, he said, “I didn’t promise anything. And it’s not happening.”

Amy just giggled again. “Here,” she said. Extending her arm past the curtain with a small hand towel, she waited until he took it before going on, “While you work on drying yourself off, I’m going to work on this post. ‘Oh, my GOD. Just caught my cousin trying on my panties. What a weirdo!” Pausing for emphasis, she mused out loud, “Hmm, is ‘weirdo’ the right word? What about pervert, or freak? What do you think, Chrissy?”

Chris had barely taken the obnoxiously small towel before Amy nonchalantly launched into a daunting threat. With the whole Julia/Sadie thing, he had been successfully distracted from what else Amy could do with the pictures she had taken. How many friends and family members would see a post like that before he managed to untag himself? Even then, the latter side would still be able to see it on Amy’s page unless she deleted it herself. Chloe and Aunt Mary knew why he had put on panties, but they wouldn’t be enough to sort out the kind of damage Amy’s text would do to his reputation across the board.

“Amy, don’t,” he firmly said. Trying his best to sound assertive, which was quite a tall order. His cousin had found a way to leverage an embarrassing photo in a much heavier manner than before. Also, Chris was more easily flustered while naked and vulnerable. He didn’t even stop to think about how a post like that would go against Amy’s whole ‘innocent’ routine. “You said you would delete those.”

“Did I?” she asked, “You should work on your listening skills. All I said, Chrissy, was that I would leave you alone if you were a good girl. And so far, you’ve been failing miserably. So, last chance. What’s your name, and what are you going to be for me?”

He hesitated. It was a bad idea. He knew that without a doubt. And yet, at the same time, it didn’t feel like there was another way out. Somewhat stalling, but mostly trying to make sure his compliance wouldn’t be for nothing, he clarified, “Then you’ll delete the pictures?”

“Maybe,” Amy said, “You’re testing my patience, girl. What’s it going to be?”

Swallowing his pride, and praying she wasn’t recording audio or video, he reluctantly said, “My name is Chrissy, and I’m going to be a good girl.”

Amy huffed out a louder sigh than before. “It doesn’t count unless you use your girl voice, Chrissy. Try again.”

Wait, what? That was new, completely unexpected, and totally ridiculous. “But-”

“NOW, Chrissy. Or I post this for the world to see. Three . . . two . . . ”

“Wait!” Chris exclaimed. Flushing more than before, and having no idea how to actually execute what was being demanded of him, he shifted to a higher pitch and awkwardly forced out, “My name is Chrissy, and I’m going to be a good girl!

Amy scoffed. “Well, that could use some work. But it’s a good start. Tell you what? I’m going to do a few chores. While I’m gone, you can shave the rest of your body and practice your voice for me. How does that sound?”

Chris was dumbfounded. This was not what he had signed up for. And it was way too much.

Apparently, Amy seemed to think otherwise. “I’ll be back soon, Chrissy. Hop to it, okay?”

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