“Don’t you yell at me! I know stuff about you that would get you grounded for a year if Mom knew.”
“If you tell her about today then you’ll get into trouble just as much as me.”
“I don’t mean that. I know what you’ve got in your room. I was looking for my phone last week and Mom told be to search every room in the house, so I did!”
“You’ve been in my room? You little shit, that’s not what Mom meant and you know it.”
You’re thinking quickly. What could she possibly have found? There’s nothing cataclysmic in there [well, almost nothing]. Some silly photo’s, some silly letters – does she really think that Mom would make a big deal out of that stuff?
You’re not going to be blackmailed into giving a kink education lesson.
“Amy I’m not talking to you any more today. You keep quiet about what’s happened or I’ll make damn sure that you’re very, very sorry.”
She doesn’t look in the least scared. She stands up and looks at you.
“Wait here.”
She’s only gone a minute. You know that she’s been into your room, but a premonition keeps you from moving.
She’s back. The grin on her face could only be described as nasty, and she keeps her hands behind her.
“So how are you going to explain this to Mom?”
She brings her hands round in front of her and displays her prize.
Your vibrator.
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