She wants to visit an old bully

Emma was still laying on the couch about half an hour later, scrolling through her phone while the tv played before her. You were elbow-deep in soapy water, still washing the seemingly endless pile of plates... It was like every time you finished one, another would appear. But that was probably just because you kept counting them wrong, like always. You couldn't really tell what your sister was doing, since you were too concerned with your work, but you could tell it wasn't anything good when she suddenly sat up, her eyes glowing with that familiar mischievous glint.

"Hey, Skank! Stop cleaning for a sec. We’re going out." You paused, sponge in hand, and turned to face her. "Out? Where?" You asked, internally breathing a sigh of relief, since she seemed to have forgotten about punishing you for failing to finish cleaning.

She kept that cruel look in her eyes as she spoke in a low, almost villainous tone. "We’re paying a little visit to someone. My old bully, Jess from eight grade. You remember her, right?" You thought it'd be best not to remind her that you never went to her school, so you just nodded along, hoping she wouldn't realize that you had no idea what she was talking about. "That bitch who used to make my life hell in junior high just because she developed first and had all the guys drooling over her stupid tits."

Emma’s voice was venomous, seeping with a bitter rage that had probably been pent up for years, but her confident voice told you she was planning something. "Now that I’ve got… let’s just say, a little edge, I think it’s time to show her who’s boss." You blinked, setting the plate down and drying your hands before softly speaking up. "Why do you need me there?"

Emma laughed, sauntering over to you and swiftly snapping the waistband of your thong. "I don’t really need you there, dumbass. But if there’s a chance to embarrass you along the way, I’m not passing that up. Plus, I need a ride." She reached over the counter, grabbing a set of keys and tossing them at you.

You caught them awkwardly, staring at the keys in confusion. "Emma, I-I don't mean to be rude or anything... b-but you know I can’t drive." You set the keys down on the counter. "Plus, would Mom and Dad be okay with us taking their old car...?"

Emma gave you a confused look, staring at the keys you set on the counter. "But... those are your k-..." She paused, groaning to herself. "Ugh, right. I forgot how dumb you are. You must've never passed the exam." You returned her annoyance with another confused look. "Exam? I never even took the exam. You know Mom and Dad always said I was too stupid to ever be a driver." You wondered why she was acting so weird today.

"Fine, I’ll drive. I’ve always been a natural at it, unlike you." She said as she snatched the keys back with an irritated look on her face. You couldn’t argue with that. She was crazy good at driving, always had been. She’d been speeding around in go-karts since she was seven, and now that she was eighteen, she was better than most professional racecar drivers. You, on the other hand, could barely figure out which pedal was which.

"Before we go..." she said, eyeing your outfit, "You should find something more decent to wear." You frowned, looking down at your crop top. "What’s wrong with this? It’s my favorite." Emma rolled her eyes. "I need Jess to know that I've got it waaaaay better than her, and if you dress like some hooker on the street, this wont... Ugh! I don't need to explain myself to you, you fucking shrimp-dick! Just… go find something less embarrassing. Hurry up." She actually seemed sort of on edge, which was odd for her. She was usually always confident. Maybe the thought of seeing her old bully was bringing up bad memories.

You sighed, marching upstairs to your room. Your closet was a disaster. Mostly thongs, lingerie, and garter belts. You hated pants! They were too tight, too restrictive, like they were suffocating your skin. After digging through piles of skimpy clothes, you finally found a skirt buried at the bottom of a drawer. It was also pink, pleated, and only went about a quarter of the way down your thigh. Not exactly 'decent,' but it was the closest thing you had. You slipped it on, the fabric swishing against your legs, and headed back downstairs.

Emma was waiting by the door, arms crossed. When she saw you, she nearly burst out laughing. "That’s the most modest thing you own? A mini skirt that barely covers your ass?" You nodded sheepishly. "Yeah… I don’t like pants." She shook her head, muttering something about you being hopeless. “Whatever, it’ll do I guess. Let’s go.” She grabbed her phone and the keys, motioning for you to follow her to the car.

Outside, the old family car sat in the driveway, a beat-up silver thing that Mom and Dad barely used anymore since they got their new company car. Emma unlocked the doors and pointed at the passenger seat. "Get in."

You hesitated, peeking inside. The passenger seat had a dildo attached to it, naturally. A thick, ten-inch monster that gleamed under the morning sun. You sighed, climbing in and positioning yourself carefully. As you lowered yourself onto it, the familiar girth made your ass stretch wide, but your body was used to it. Your guts had always been weirdly stretchy, accommodating the dildo without any **** discomfort. You adjusted your skirt, trying to maintain some dignity, but the bulge was impossible to hide.

Emma slid into the driver’s seat, smirking as she glanced at you. "Comfy?" You grumbled, shifting slightly. "Yeah, sure."

She laughed, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway with the ease of someone who’d been driving for years. The car rumbled down the street, and you stared out the window, watching the neighborhood blur by. "So," you said, breaking the silence, "what’s the plan with Jessica? You gonna, like, yell at her or something?"

Emma’s grin widened, but she didn’t take her eyes off the road. "Oh, you’ll see. Let’s just say I’ve got a few ideas to put her in her place. She used to think she was hot shit. Hope she enjoyed it while it lasted~. And you? Just try not to embarrass yourself too much. Or do. It’s funnier that way."

You rolled your eyes, sinking lower in the seat, feeling the dildo shifting uncomfortably as the car made a sharp turn.