Next day was Friday. I was nervous coming home from school. The previous evening I had let Kevin order me around, and he'd grown in confidence as the evening had progressed. I knew that set a dangerous precedent.
There was an outfit laid out for me on my bed. I was surprised to find it was my modified school shirt and a pair of panties.
The next surprise came when I picked up the shirt. I had already modified it. I had removed the top 3 buttons, and I had added a few stitches to pin the lapels back. But as I picked it up, I could see Kevin had made his own adjustments.
The arms were gone. Kevin had actually done a pretty clean job; unpicking the seams rather than just hacking them off with a pair of scissors. The rest of the buttons were gone too. Wispy threads marked where they used to be. Finally Kevin had cut out the lower back. He'd followed the line of the seam halfway up both sides, then cut across the back to join the two slits.
The result was a shirt that was spread open by my large breasts at the front, and left my back below my shoulder blades completely exposed.
I tied the two front tails in a granny knot, which is I think, what Kevin intended.
The result was spectacular. The shirt came down to my lower ribs. The smooth inward curves of my waist, and flat stomach with the indentation of my belly button, were accentuated by the bulging white shirt above. The knot was so high on my ribs that it actually lifted my breasts and made them seem even bigger than they were. The shirt was stuffed beyond its capacity, and while the knot held it closed the amount of exposed cleavage was staggering.
I was still looking at the mirror when the sound of the front door pulled me back to reality.
"Emma," Kevin called. "Come down stairs."
Despite my nerves, I didn't hesitate; I had accepted Kevin's authority over me.
They were all there, waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. I tried to stay calm as I slowly descended the stairs towards them. I kept my head up, shoulders back, arms at my sides. I wanted to appear nonchalant, like the situation was normal. But it wasn't normal, and it didn't matter how much I pretended it was.
"Fuck me," Paul said, always the most vocal, the most cocky. "Will you look at that." There was no pretense any more. He knew I could hear every word, he just didn't care.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I stood facing them for a moment before turning down the corridor into the lounge.
The Xbox was on. The now ubiquitous Night Junky queued up. I had danced to it so many times now, it should have seemed mundane. But dressed as I was, in my smallest panties and a shirt that showed far more than it concealed, it still had my heart racing.
I took up my position in front of the screen; in front of the sofas where the boys would sit. Ready to perform.
The boys came in behind me. Paul, Jason, Bobby and Frank all took their seats on the sofa. But my brother stayed on his feet.
"It's raining," he said.
The boys all had wet hair and Kevin was still wearing his jacket. I looked out the window and I saw it was coming down pretty hard. I looked back to my brother, but he didn't say anything more just looked at me expectantly.
"I guess it is," I finally replied, somewhat confused.
"You need to get the cushions off the garden furniture," he said.
Mum had bought some new patio furniture, and had asked us to make sure the cushions didn't get left out in the rain.
I nodded and started for the coat closet.
"Where are you going?" Kevin asked.
"To get my coat, it's raining."
"I think you're dressed just fine as you are," he replied. "What do you think guys," he asked his friends. "Does Emma need a coat to go and get the cushions in."
"Definitely not," Paul replied "I think she's dressed just fine as she is."
The other 3 just sat there grinning.
This was crazy! Kevin was telling me to go outside. No, ordering me to go outside in the rain. The panties and shirt he had given me to wear were both white and both stretched tight across my body. The rain was coming down hard. By the time I'd got the cushions in, both garments would be drenched, and virtually transparent.
It took me the better part of 10 minutes to get the seats off the chairs, and hang them in the garage so they'd dry. It took less than 5 seconds for the heavy rain to soak me to the core. So when I came back into the house my shirt and panties were wet through and dripping water.
Although my shirt had been altered into something from a porn movie, it had started life as a regular school blouse. It was a thick weave and robust, designed to withstand the rigours a young teenager might put it through. So even wet through it wasn't totally transparent. It stuck to the contours of my breasts like a second skin, and was translucent enough to show the difference in colour between my breasts and my nipples, bit wasn't utterly revealing. Even so, as I re-entered the house I had my arms clutched over my chest, made nervous by this heightened display.
I stood in the lounge, in front of my brother and his friends, arms crossed, defensive, water dripping from me. I had learned to love to show off, but somehow this was one step too far.
They all just sat there for a moment, gorping, while I stood with my arms clutched closely across my chest. But while my arms covered my breasts, my wispy mat of hair and puffy lips were outlined beneath the sodden panties.
Unusually, it was Bobby who got things moving. He picked up the Xbox controller and hit a couple of buttons. The unmistakable opening bars of Night Junky came on.
