Stay covered but raise the stakes another way

You keep the sheet right where it is across your hips and meet your sister’s eyes with a slow, deliberate look.

“You’re the one who’s so curious,” you say, voice low. “If you really want to know whether it’s grown… pull the sheet back yourself.”

She doesn’t hesitate this time.

“Gladly.”

She steps in, grabs the edge of the sheet, and yanks it all the way down to your thighs in one smooth motion. Cool air hits your cock. It’s hard from the teasing—standing up flushed and eager—but the size is painfully clear. Short. Thin. More head than shaft.

Your sister stares for half a second.

Then she bursts out laughing. Hard.

“Oh my god.” She actually has to cover her mouth for a moment, shoulders shaking. “It’s like a head with no shaft. Are you sure you’re even male?”

The laughter keeps coming, bright and merciless. She points, still giggling, at the modest erection that is now twitching under the force of her mockery.

“That is the most optimistic little thing I’ve ever seen. It’s trying so hard and there’s just… nothing behind it. A helmet looking for a handlebar that never showed up.”

Your face burns. Your cock, traitorously, throbs and leaks a clear bead of precum at the tip. The reaction only makes her laugh harder.

“It’s dripping from being called out,” she manages between giggles. “That is adorable and deeply sad at the same time.” She leans in a little closer, eyes locked on your cock. “We should definitely panty that clit. I’m serious. Something soft and pink with a little bow. At least then it would look like it belongs to the right category.”

She doesn’t touch you. She just stands there, sheet still bunched around your thighs, openly laughing at the short, flushed erection while the suggestion of putting it in panties settles over you like a second skin. Every soft bounce of your cock under her gaze seems to prove her point.

“I mean, look at it,” she continues, voice still full of laughter. “If I squint it’s almost cute in a ‘this was never meant to be a dick’ kind of way. Panty that clit, put a little cage on it later, and we can stop pretending. What do you think—cotton or lace for the first pair?”

She’s not leaving. The sheet is still down. Your cock is still hard, small, and dripping while she openly discusses dressing it up like something else entirely.

What do you do?

Fire back a weak attempt at a comeback while staying exposed, trying to salvage some dignity even as she keeps laughing and pushing the “panty that clit” idea.

Stay silent and let her keep looking and laughing, the humiliation and the fresh suggestion of panties already working on you in ways you don’t want to admit.

Reach for the sheet and cover yourself again, face burning, while her laughter and the words “panty that clit” follow you under the fabric.