bottleofscapa

[bottleofscapa]

Sarah and Nick (Part 1.2)

The best friend’s little sister

This is a story I wrote together with another author, originally in German. I got their permission to publish it here. It is written from the perspective of Sarah (my co-authors part) and Nick (my Part). Please excuse any translation mistakes and sometimes less than perfect phrasing, English is my second language.

This is all fantasy.

Content warning: CNC, manipulation, age play, bimbofication, free use

Nick:

I don’t even Register climbing the stairs to Ben’s room, because my head only revolves around you. To be exact, I’m thinking: “was that Sarah?” I mean, of course you were, but you changed so much. I think, last time I saw you, you were maybe fourteen or fifteen. Now you should be seventeen or eighteen, either way, you are barely recognisable.

It takes the full force of my will to banish those thoughts. “I will not think about Ben’s sister that way!”, I scold myself.

Then we arrive in Ben’s room. It barely changed since my last visit, but he was hardly home the past 6 years. If he didn’t have a pipe burst in his apartment, neither of us would be staying with his parents.

“You want a beer?”, he asks bored.

“Sure”, I answer laughing.

“Wait, maybe you should greet my parents first. You know, putting up a brave face in front of them.”

“Good idea”, I reply unenthusiasticly.

We quickly throw my stuff into the upstairs guest room, which is located next to Ben’s old room, before we go back down to the ground floor. Maxwell and Carola are already standing in the living room. Putting up the best fake smile I can muster, I walk towards them, extending my arm, shaking Carola’s Hand First, then Maxwell’s, while I thank them over and over again for allowing me to stay in there home for a few days.

Sarah:

Even at Pia’s place, my thoughts are still circling around you. And when she starts making plans for this evening, I quickly interject, that I can’t come. “Come on, why not”, Pia whines.

“Because I want to see Nick again”, would be the right answer, but instead I tell her, that we have guests over.

“Come on, just sneak out later in the evening”, she tries to convince me.

“I’m really sorry, I can’t. But we will do something tomorrow. I promise!”, I try to comfort her.

“Okay, then we will go to Michael’s party. Everyone will be there!”

“For sure!”, I say and she’s grinning again.

“Do you think, your brother will come as well?”, Pia asks, trying to sound as casual as possible, while she’s turning the pages of some magazine to avoid looking into my eyes. Annoyed I’m rolling my eyes. It has been like that ever since I turned fourteen or fifteen. All my friends crush on my older brother, even though he changes girlfriends more often than underwear.

“I hope, he doesn’t”, I answer truthfully. Because when he’s coming to a party I will be treated like a lepper. Not that anybody would dare flirting with me anyway, but when Ben is close by, nobody would touch me with a ten foot pole. And that sucks! He’s allowed to screw anything that moves, but if I do anything more, than holding hands, or kissing a boy on the cheek….. But apart from that, Ben and I get along pretty well and I know, that he will always be there for me, when I need him.

“Well, I hope he will come”, Pia remarks dreamily, but a stern look from me stops her from raving about my brother.

We chit and chat about everything that comes to our mind, paint our toe nails (Pia in red, mine in blue), get the spontaneous idea to bake some cupcakes and just enjoy hanging out with each other. In the late afternoon I sweep the flour off my shorts and delicately lick the the topping from my fingers before I drive home with boxes full of chocolate, vanilla and blueberry cupcakes.

“Oh my god, Sarah! You’re looking awful”, my mother greets me shocked, “what’s that in your hair?”

“It’s just flour”, I try calming her down, “I will take a quick shower and then I’m off for my tennis lesson.” At the moment, she’s especially tiring. I have to be perfect all the time. Even, when I don’t want to. I quickly put the cupcakes in the refrigerator and take my shower. Atleast I can use the tennis lesson to let out all pent up anger.

Nick:

In the meantime, Ben and I arrived at our third beer, while we are sitting in lawnc hairs and watching the waves roll onto the beach.

“Do you want to go out this evening?”, he asks lazily.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a job interview tomorrow at seven. And the bus is gonna take me at least one and half hours. I really wanna get that job, man! That company’s doing exactly what I like. Building automation, smart homes, all that good stuff. I don’t wanna end in a job, where I have to break open walls and lay cables all the time.”

“That’s fair. But tomorrow evening, you are coming with us! Michael is throwing a party. But we might have to dress you up a bit”, Ben says, while inspecting my baggy jeans and washed out shirt.

“Don’t worry, man”, I laugh, “I still have some pearls hidden in my backpack!”

Over the next two hours, Ben brings me up to speed on everything that happened since I vanished last year. After that, we go back inside and I eat a few quick sandwiches, before I go upstairs to prepare myself for bed. Looking at his expensive watch, that shows nine o’clock, Ben remarks: “oh boy, you are growing old.”

Back in the guest room, I take off my shirt, throw a towel over my shoulder, grab my toilet bag and go towards the bathroom. Just as I’m about to grab the door handle, the door swings open and you’re standing in front of me, only wearing a large towel.

“Oh, hello Sarah” I greet you awkwardly. I can’t believe, that I would ever be at a lack of words, standing in front of a beautiful, semi-nude woman…… but you are Bens sister!

[bottleofscapa]

Sarah and Nick (Part 1.1)

The best friend’s little sister

This is a story I wrote together with another author, originally in German. I got their permission to publish it here. It is written from the perspective of Sarah (my co-authors part) and Nick (my Part). Please excuse any translation mistakes and sometimes less than perfect phrasing, English is my second language.

This is all fantasy.

Content warning: CNC, manipulation, age play, bimbofication, free use

Nick:

I hear a clicking sound and know, that the camera on the entry gate just turned on after I rang the bell. Shortly after, a less than enthusiastic “hello Nick” sounds from the speaker and the wide steel gate swings open.

While walking along the broad driveway, I ask myself, what I’m actually doing here. I never got along with Ben’s parents. For them I always was the working class boy, that’s a bad influence on their son and had no business being at that summer camp 16 years ago - okay, that might actually be true. The only reason I was there was, because the camp wanted to boast with a program for the less fortunate - and yes, sometimes I was a bad influence on Ben. But hey, I never brought the cocaine. Well, most of the time, I couldn’t have afforded it anyway.

I came back home eight days ago and spent my time crashing on different friends’ couches, looking for an apartment and a job. At least this time I have a little bit saved up to keep myself afloat. Finding a job turned out to be a lot harder, than expected. Of course, skilled craftsmen are highly sought after, but any boss gets suspicious - and rightly so - when they learn, that you just didn’t come back to your old job from your holiday and spent the last year as a surfing instructor in the Caribbean. Holding courses during daytime, spending evenings at the bar. Sometimes as barkeeper, sometimes as a guest.

Deep in my thoughts, I reach the front door. The garden hardly changed since I visited the last time. The only difference is the Porsche in the driveway, that I don’t know yet. Looks like Maxwell got himself yet another toy. Ben is standing in the doorway and greets me happily, but before allowing me to enter, he suddenly becomes serious: “two things, mate: I told my parents, that you’re only staying two nights. That’s all I can offer. And you are supposed to keep a low profile.” He sombrely looks at me and continues: “be careful, my mother would love to catch you pocketing something! But now, welcome!”

He opens the door, letting me enter. I throw down my duffel bag and the large military rucksack, carrying all my belongings, take off my shoes and say: “just as it used to be! You‘re gonna help me with my stuff? I already had to lug it Alltage way from the bus stop.“ Bene grabs my duffel, I pick my backpack back up and follow him upstairs.

Sarah:

Just as I’m about to walk down the stairs, I hear my brother talking to someone. Your voice sounds familiar, but i can’t place it right away. Arriving at the bottom of the stairwell, I can’t believe who I’m seeing. But before I can welcome you, my brother snaps at: “no way you are going to leave the house like that, young lady!“ I’m wearing white shorts, a tight top, spotting a deep cleavage, as well as white and dark yellow stripes. But since it’s over 30 degrees outside, most people will be clad this way.

“Calm down, Benny“, I answer mockingly and give him a quick kiss on the cheek in passing. “And welcome back, Nick”, I add, while quickly checking you out. You look good, but you always did that. Your dark blonde hair is longer, than I remember and your skin is more tanned. Your white shirt seems washed out and your shoes walked through.

Then both of you pass me and vanish upstairs. Just as I’m about to grab an apple from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, I hear my mother: “Sarah, darling, don’t forget your tennis lesson today”

How could I? For more than ten years, I got a private tennis lesson, each Monday and Thursday. “Of course not”, I answer with a forced smile, grab the convertible’s key and get on my way to a friend. But the entire drive, my thoughts circle around you. What did you do while being away for so long? And your smile…..even back then, it meant trouble. I highly doubt, that changed, even though both of you got more responsible with time.