With polite disapproval

People mentioned so far:

Me. Dawn, 18, the important person.

Brother. Steven, 20, home from uni for the holidays. I'm not a fan.

Father. Vicar, soft and weak. Can barely be called a man. Not going to validate his existence by saying his name.

Mother. Housewife, somehow manages to be both sickeningly kind and yet constantly ruining my life. Similarly not worth naming.

Aunt Becky. Mother's younger sister. Haven't seen her in years.

Uncle Brian. Aunt Becky's husband. Something like 10 years older than her, already grey haired and has a reputation for being "a bit un-PC", or as we call it in the 21st century, bigoted.

Gem Ladies Status:

80.8% nasty, so I require 8080 points to win.

15 seconds remaining in my third game. I have 5750 points. I currently seem able to score somewhere around 1250 points per minute.

The game is paused, in the middle of a bonus round. The rule is, I must wear my tight black vest top with no bra for the next four hours to be rewarded with 250 seconds bonus time.

As far as I can tell, my current rules are:
Whenever I am not completely honest, my breasts balloon in size - from B cups to F cups at the first instance. But I can correct my dishonesty with the truth to get them to shrink back down. People who see the growth don't notice it and are made to believe that they grew that large naturally during puberty.

If I try to conceal any part of my legs with any clothing other than the shortest of skirts, it feels like the clothing is on fire.

Aroused older men will apparently grope me.

I have an "Orgasm trigger word: 'Amen'".

"Dawn! What are you wearing?!" My mother sounds genuinely horrified. I guess the lack of awareness they experienced when seeing my boobs magically grow and shrink doesn't extend to non-magic things like my actual outfit and appearance, even if those are being enforced by magical burning sensations.

"My birthday party outfit." I answer truthfully.

"I'm an adult now, and I can dress how I want." I try to sound as confident and proud as I can, even if inside I'm burning in shame with my mother, father, brother, aunt and uncle getting to see me like this.

Wait, that's kind of a lie. I can't dress how I want.

But my boobs don't grow. Another piece of evidence that the app wants to keep its existence a secret - I am seemingly allowed to lie or misdirect when the truth would involve revealing the magic I am under the effects of.

"Be that as it may, don't you think it's a bit inappropriate to be socialising with family and church members in that sort of 'party attire'?" Mum was trying her best to be diplomatic in front of her sister and brother-in-law. Whilst my parents are not insanely strict, and weaklings when it comes to disciplining Steven and me, they would have much stronger words to say to me behind closed doors about something like this which threatens to undermine their own reputations.

"No." I reply stubbornly.

My breasts expand outwards. Not to F cups this time, but more like D cups. Perhaps opinions are less heavily weighted compared to objective fact.

I've always wanted D cups, so for a brief moment I consider maybe keeping them. But then I see the way Uncle Brian is looking at me. He's a good 10 years older than my aunt - she clearly married for money - and this nearly 60 year old man is staring at my chest with unconcealed delight. On a normal day a dignified woman with D cup breasts can keep them modestly hidden under tops and sweaters and bras, but not when wearing a tight vest top with no bra. I've gone from looking like a young woman trying a bit too hard to look grown up, to looking like a slutty Hooters waitress. And even they wear bras. In my case, the lack of bra is now even more visible than it was a minute ago, and much more devastating towards how much it makes me look trashy.

"My my, how you've grown since the last time I saw you!" Brian says with a much-too-excited voice. He's not even trying to pretend to look at my face.

Nooope.

I turn back to my mother. "Okay, yes, it's a bit inappropriate. But I don't care, this is what I want to wear, and it's my birthday, so I'm wearing it."

My breasts shrink back down, but the look on Uncle Brian's face remains. It seems probable that while nobody else is aware of the changes in my breast size, any emotions that were triggered by seeing me with larger breasts aren't just immediately erased when they return back to normal.

And to be fair, it's not like I only looked like a slut because of slightly larger breasts.

"Well dear, I think you look lovely. And it's so lovely to see you again after all these years."

Aunt Becky tries to get on my good side but I don't believe a words she says.

"Now Brian, stop staring at your niece and come help me get the presents." She speaks with a clear disapproving tone.

Thank god somebody said something. For a moment I thought that creep was going to go unchallenged.

I fold my arms as Becky and Brian move past me in the hallway, back to the front door.

"See you in a minute, champ!" Uncle Brian says cheerfully as he passes me, smacking my ass loudly as he does.

I gasp and freeze.

He's a dead man.

I wait for my father to explode in rage. But two seconds later, nobody has reacted at all.

"What the FUCK!!!" I scream because no-one else will. "That pervert just smacked my arse!"

"Language!" My father raises his voice at me. That's twice in the same day, which is almost unheard of for him. It's true, I pretty much never swear, being a good Christian girl, but some rare situations require an expletive to clearly and efficiently communicate the severity of the issue.

"I'm sorry Brian, we'll have a word with her. See you in a minute." My father apologizes to the evil molester.

Brian nods and follows his wife out the front door. My mouth is hanging open and I am white with rage.

It's my mother that speaks first.

"This is why you should reconsider what you're wearing, sweetie. If you dress like that, older men like Brian just won't be able to resist a cheeky little spank or grope."

I explode with indignation. "I'm sorry, did I fall into a time machine? Is it 1950?! It's not okay for old men to **** young women, mum!"

"It's not..." It looks like she's struggling to find the words, as if wrestling with two conflicting ideas in her head. "It's not great. But it's also the way it is. And while obviously I don't want you to be groped if you don't want to be, it's you who has the power to change that by choosing how you dress."

"Can you even hear the words that are coming out your mouth?! Does Uncle Brian not have any agency in your eyes?" I protest.

"Oh come on Dawn, you're not that naïve are you? You know how men are. Always thinking with their 'other head'. I'd love it if they had more self-control too, but that's just not the way the world works."

The way the world works...

I had been so focused on the magic making my breasts grow when I lie that I had forgotten there were other rules too. The magic changes of the app that are making 'aroused older men' grope me is also affecting whether everyone finds it socially acceptable. I can't expect anyone to leap to my defense. I'm on my own and in half an hour, I will be surrounded by older men.

It can't get any worse.

"Dawn, I want you to apologise to Uncle Brian, okay?"

I was wrong.

"What?!"

"You swore at him and insulted him."

"UGH! Unbelievable!"

I unthinkingly do what I always do when I'm outraged at my parents - I unlock my phone, to complain about them on social media. But before I get to opening a message app, I see I have a couple of new notifications.

Angry reaction to being groped by uncle
+1% nasty

Arguing with mother
+0.2% nasty

A lot of my anger turns to fear.

That's a massive penalty! Now I'll need 120 more points to win...

If this keeps up, even with the bonus time I'll risk losing this game of Gem Ladies. As much as it pains me, I'm going to have to try and pull the points back in the other direction.

A polite knock on the door signals that my aunt and uncle have returned from their car. My brother Steven dutifully opens it. There they are, now each holding a large wrapped birthday present.

I take a deep breath, clench my fist, and begin

"Uncle Brian, I'm sorry for insulting you when you smacked my butt." I put emphasis on the last few words to try and drive home the insanity of what I'm saying but of course it goes over everyone's head, and I am **** to continue. "I know it was my fault, not yours."

I subtly check my phone screen again.

Apologised to uncle
+0.9% Nice

Despite the situation, I find myself smiling.

Sweet, I recovered nearly all the points from insulting him.

"Apology accepted, cupcake." Uncle Brian says condescendingly, but warmly.

Aunt Becky coughs loudly and expectantly.

Uncle Brian smiles a guilty smile and continues. "And, err, I'm sorry if the way I looked at you made you feel uncomfortable."

It seems like I'm not the only one who received a telling off. He's allowed to grope, but not to ogle.

I **** myself to keep smiling.

"That's okay. I'm the one who chose to dress like this, after all."

Another glance confirms that this sort of self-derogatory response is what the app considers "nice".

Blaming self for uncle's creepy stare
+0.5% Nice

With that, I'm actually now at a net positive for nice points for this interaction.

This is actually pretty exploitable.

If I can bring myself act positively in response to creepy behaviour, by the time the four hours is up, I'll have been able to make a significant dent in the remaining points I need to ensure that I get to remove three rules.

Just for a few hours, I'll be what they want me to be.

"Are those for me?" I indicate to the presents, still forcing myself to smile.

"You bet they are! Want to open them now?"

"Oh yes pretty please!" My immediate family are quietly surprised by my sudden change of heart, but my aunt and uncle haven't seen me for years and so don't know me well enough to know I don't normally act like this.

We all retire into the living room, where I make a big show of being super excited for my presents, and after opening them to discover a brand new bread maker and sewing machine, leap up in joy and run to hug them, instead of what I would normally do, which is launch into a venomous rant about how I'm not a scullery maid.

Aunt Becky hugs me back deeply, and eventually lets go. All too aware of what's probably coming, I move to embrace Uncle Brian too. Sure enough, his hands go straight under my skirt and grip my buttocks, squeezing them both tightly.

I feel my anger quickly rising so I try to pull away, but he holds tight and keeps me pressed into his chest, secured and unable to leave thanks to his strong hold on my 18 year old butt cheeks.

"Aww, how sweet." My father coos as he watches his daughter held tight in a molester's hug against her will.

I start trying to fight it more, grabbing his shirt and trying to push him away from me. Surely everyone will be able to see how much I don't want this now.

For whatever reason, Uncle Brian now releases me. I can't tell if it's because of my actions or whether it's because the normal socially acceptable time for an uncle-and-niece hug was at an end anyway. I take a step back and swivel around, now with a pissed off frown on my face.

"Feisty one, isn't she!" Uncle Brian remarks, amused, and gives me a very hard slap on the butt.

"Ouch!!!" I yell in pain and anger, with an outraged look on my face.

Aunt Becky shakes her head. "These men. They don't know their own strength. You might want to put some ice on that before the next one."

You're capable of understanding he just hurt me enough to need ice but not able to assign him any responsibility?!

"He could just not smack me." I can't help but grumble.

"Hormonal teenagers!” My father jokes, trying to lighten the mood and keep everybody happy.

"I'll go get something frozen." Steven takes it on himself to take Aunt Becky's advice literally.

"No need." I stop Steve before he leaves the room. I rub the tender spot with one hand. "I actually like it, of course. Why else would I dress like this? Thank you for smacking my butt, Uncle Brian. Now excuse me while I go put on my make up."

Safe once again in my bedroom, I check my phone once more.

Thanked Aunt for present and gave hug
+0.1% nice

Thanked Uncle for present and gave hug
+0.5% nice

Complained about uncle's butt smack
+0.2% nasty

Thanked uncle for butt smack
+0.3% nice

I nod soberly.

I'm gaming the system. In a few hours I'll be free.

But then a new notification pops up.

Avoiding party time penalty
-1 second

I stare at it, confused, not understanding at first. Somewhere between five and ten seconds later it updated.

Avoiding party time penalty
-2 seconds

I am being penalised for hiding in the safety of my bedroom! To be fair, it is kind of against the spirit of the bonus round, wearing an outfit for a set time, if nobody sees it.

Then again, nothing about this situation is 'fair'.

I rush to put on just a dash of make up so I'm not attending a party with an unmade face.

To be honest this is probably for the best. Any more make up than this would make my overall appearance even more whorish.

Nursing my slightly sore butt, I take one final look in the mirror. This is it. All the people from my church are going to see me like this. Old men are going to grope me. But if I play along, I can be back to my normal self before my old school friends arrive this evening.

I can do this.