Embarrassing purse contents

People mentioned so far:

Me. Dawn, 18, the important person whose feelings you're supposed to care about.

Brother. Steven, 19, 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.

Gem Ladies Status:

99.9% nasty, so I require 9990 points to win.

I've just lost my third game. I currently seem able to score somewhere around 1250 points per minute.

As far as I can tell, my current rules are:

Whenever I am not completely honest, my breasts balloon in size - the total growth seems to depend on the severity and subjectivity of the lie. 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. My breasts were originally B cup and are currently H cup.

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 and spank me and even rub me through my panties. Witnesses will justify the act to themselves, and not blame or judge the men.

Hearing the word 'Amen' makes me have an instant strong orgasm that's difficult to hide. If multiple people say it at once, the orgasm is multiplied in intensity.

Game Over. Choose a punishment:

Heavy squirter
Embarrassing purse contents
You can never be less aroused than the most aroused nearby person

I stare at the options with a deflated heart. It's so unfair - one more second and I would have won. But now, rather than getting to remove three rules, I have to add a new one.

I rub my temples and reflect on the choices.

I don't believe there's anything inherently wrong or undesirable about squirting when orgasming in ordinary situations. But when one is at risk of spontaneous orgasms at any moment, there's clearly much more of a problem.

Embarrassing purse contents seems instinctively not that bad. How often does someone other than me check my purse? But that also makes me suspicious, like there's more to it than meets the eye. My appearance is embarrassing enough as it is. If it became even more lewd, I might just die of shame.

Never being less aroused than nearby people could be relatively fine, and easy to hide, but what does 'nearby' mean? It could mean a few feet or it could mean in the same building, or in the same neighbourhood, or the same parish. If it left me constantly horny, that would be rather bad for my mental health.

In the end, I can't bring myself to choose the squirting or arousal, so it has to be the purse. I touch the screen.

Remember, every win lets you remove three rules!

The final screen taunts me. I move to press the button to return to the home screen but my hand doesn't obey me. In fact, my whole body doesn't obey me. Instead, my body gets up and walks over to my wardrobe. Retrieving my largest handbag - a fashionable black leather item with a matching strong black strap - it slings it over one of my shoulders. Only then does my body return control to my brain.

The bag feels heavy, balanced precariously on one shoulder rather than properly hung over my neck.

Wait, shouldn't it be empty? Unless... oh, Americans sometimes call their handbags 'purses', don't they...

I remove the bag from my shoulder and open it.

"Oh Jesus!"

Inside the purse is a decent collection of sex toys. I count two rather sizeable toys intended for vaginal insertion - one big and purple with rotating bits, the other flesh coloured and made to look like an erect penis, veins and all. Then there's two toys intended for clitoral stimulation - one small egg shaped device and one oval device with a little hollow segment that sits over the clitoris to stimulate it with gentle suction. Finally there are three toys intended for anal use. One has a bulb like shape to keep the wearer feeling full. Another is penis shaped but with a flared base. The last one is long and thin but has a beaded texture and rotates from the base a bit.

Every single one of these sex toys is electric, and has a button that can be pressed to make it vibrate or do its thing.

Amongst the sex toys I can also see a large bottle of personal lubricant, and several wrapped condoms. Not even normal boring ones, but ones with lewd phrases on the wrapper, like "Keep Calm and Cum Inside" and "I <3 Cock" and even "Yummy Snack Bag".

An extremely explicit pornographic magazine titled "Double Penetration Divas", with this month's date, is in there too, rolled in half. Next to this, I can see some fuzzy handcuffs and a ballgag.

Right at the bottom are a collection of tiny airplane trolley sized glass bottles of alcoholic spirits - enough to get ten 18 year old women drunk, never mind just me.

This isn't the contents of a normal purse, it's the contents of a prostitute's, or a nymphomaniac's purse. I start taking all these ridiculous items out of the bag, and hiding them all under my pillow. I'll have to find a way to discreetly dispose of them later.

Putting all the lewd items back in my handbag along with my phone, and then slinging my bag back over my shoulder, I turn to leave my bedroom.

Wait...what?!

I had not intended to put the items back in the bag, nor to take the bag with me. They had just automatically happened, without a second thought.

I test it again by taking out the magazine, making sure to concentrate this time. Putting the magazine back in my bag, I turn and...

What the fuck!

Once again my mind had decided to put the magazine back in the bag without me actively, consciously being able to focus on what I was doing, and choose not to.

I'm too stubborn - I just have to test it one more time. I set the handbag down on my desk, and begin taking tiny steps away while staring at it.

Just as it's about to be out of easy reach, my hand casually reaches out, picks it up, and puts it back on my shoulder. It feels so... natural, so unobjectionable, while it's happening. Only after have I finished the act are my normal feelings of outrage able to surface.

What if I flush a drink down the toilet, huh?

I storm out of my bathroom, eager to stubbornly test the limits of this reality-bending curse. My plans are immediately thwarted by me crashing straight into Steven who is walking along the upper landing.

God didn't bless him with much in the way of tall genes, and that combined with my high heels puts my hooters at the same height as his face, and this is where our bodies connect. The **** of the impact sends him toppling backwards, and me down on top of him. A split second later, we're in a heap on the floor, my chest-pillows engulfing his head, threatening to suffocate him.

"Watch where you're going, you imbecile!” I snarl.

"Mmf!” is his reply as he tries to find a way to turn his neck that will allow him to breathe past my honkers. But they are so big, it's easier said than done.

I feel something solid forming underneath my crotch, pressing into my sex through my panties. My big brother is popping a boner.

"Gross!" I say with unrestrained disgust. "Is that your DICK?!"

I push my upper body up with my arms, releasing his head from the asphyxiation of my ample bosom. Pressing down into his now throbbing hard member with my pussy, I begin to grind our genitals together, through my panties and his shorts.

"W-what are you doing?!" He demands, shocked.

"Grinding on you, you pervert." I spit. Even though it looks like part of him considers it, he makes no move to resist.

"What's gotten into you lately?!" He says, a tad scared and confused.

"Nothing!" I reply objectionably.

But this causes my boobs to grow another couple of sizes, and are now a completely ridiculous J cup. I frown, trying to work out what the curse wants me to be honest about. What has changed that Steven has not been made magically unaware of?

Oh yeah.

"I... I wear short skirts now. It's just my new thing, okay?"

My bazookas return to their prior H cup size.

Phew, that was close. These things cannot get any bigger, it would just be too much.

Having to be honest about everything is too difficult. I give my brother a deadly stare and command him, "No more questions, understand? Just shut up."

He gulps and nods his agreement. I continue to rub my pussy up and down his length as hard and fast as I can.

"Dawn, I'm gonna... You're gonna make me..."

I push down even harder to make sure he has a full hard orgasm inside his undies, rubbing my wet slit on his throbbing meat through our clothes until he's finished shuddering in ecstasy.

Task completed, I begin to pull myself up. But for the first time, I notice that a buzzing sound is coming from my handbag, which had fallen off my shoulder to the floor when we bumped into each other.

Assuming it's my phone, I open the bag. I simultaneously remember what the contents of the bag are and also realise that it's not my phone that's vibrating. It's one of the toys. And I can't even tell which.

Squeaking with humiliation, I begin trying the toys one by one. The first two I choose, the vaginal toys, I actually turn on rather than off, and then have to hold down the power buttons to turn them back off. Finally, after an painfully embarrasingly long period of time, I find that the dome-shaped butt plug is to blame, and manage to stop the vibration.

Steven is watching me, mouth hanging open with shock, looking like he's about to say something.

"No questions, remember!" I shoot him with a fierce glare.

He mimes zipping his mouth shut.

My phone screen is also on in my bag, because I have some new notifications. I pick up my phone and read them quickly.

Blamed brother for bump in hallway
+0.1% nasty

Reached 100% nasty
Randomizing punishment rule...

My eyes widen at that second one. I touch it to hopefully get more information. Gem Ladies opens on a new page.

100% nasty rule chosen
100% nasty rules have user awareness disabled. Return to 90% nasty to enable user awareness for this rule. Rule can be removed at any time via normal means - just win a game!

This sounds bad. If my initial interpretation of this is correct, there's now a new rule, chosen for me at random, which I either won't be aware I'm following, or which I will be incapable of realising is inappropriate. For example, I could potentially play with my nipples in front of people without noticing that I'm doing it, or even worse, I could suddenly think it's completely normal to play with my nipples in front of people. Except it's obviously not that example, because I still know that playing with my nipples in front of people isn't normal.

I will need to keep a good eye out for people acting surprised or shocked around me in ways I don't expect, and if I spot that, I need to get out of that situation as quickly as humanly possible. I doubt that asking what's upsetting them will help - even if I do get an honest answer, I'll just recognise their explanation of what I'm doing as nothing worth worrying about, which is no use, because I can no longer trust my own recognition of what's normal.

I've got to get 10% worth of Nice Points as soon as possible. Or, win a game.

The sight of my brother still lying underneath me as I straddle his groin snaps me out of my inner monologue. I can feel that his cock is now mostly soft.

"What are you still doing here?! Get out of my sight!" I spit at him, standing up to allow him to move.
 
He looks a bit put out by this, but obeys. He looks **** to ask me a question, but a final furious look from me makes him change his mind. He hobbles off towards his room, no doubt to change into a less disgusting pair of underwear.

I reflect that from now on I'm going to have to stop speaking to him like that if I want to regain those Nice Points.

Watching Steven leave, I frown. If the app is evil enough to make my uncle grope me, would it consider making me do sexual things to even closer family? No, surely not. That would be too gross, even for perverse sex-obsessed magic phone apps.

I return to looking at my phone. A lack of new notifications confirms my suspicion that I can't gain any more Nasty points while at 100%. Either that, or telling Steven to get out of my sight wasn't considered nasty. Back on the start screen of Gem Ladies, the big button to start a new game is once again staring back at me.

There's still a while until my old school mates start to arrive for the evening party at my house. I really don't want them to see me like this. And I don't want to be **** to lie and get stuck with even more insanely large tits. But... I'd need 10,000 points to win. That seems completely unreachable without an extremely generous bonus round. My finger hovers above the Play button, still tempted. Maybe... Just maybe... It's worth the risk?