Lady Lucia
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The Babysitter, Part 39
🕑 Added 2023-12-05 13:00:05 +0000 UTCNoelle didn’t comment one way or another in response to Paige’s little jab. Instead, she just headed for the kitchen and beckoned for me to follow. The second Noelle wasn’t looking, Paige shot me a wink and a smug smile. The best I could do was scowl at her. I couldn’t pick a fight first thing in the morning. Not when Miley’s babysitter could follow through on any number of her threats. I was still outnumbered, anyway. Between being perceived as a rebellious brat and currently the only one on my own side in terms of any she said/she said, I knew I had to be really careful about the battles I chose.
I was taken to the kitchen table and told to continue my lines. Not loving the prospect of one of the other girls coming in and seeing what I was working on, even if Paige had already observed the demeaning task last night, I briefly considered asking Noelle if I could work on my homework instead. Miley’s homework. But again, I had to be selective about what I pushed back on. So I sat down to do what I was told.
It was my first time being seated in the pull-ups. Walking around in the bulky double layers was bad enough, but I definitely wasn’t ready for the sensation of how the awkward padding felt underneath me. On top of that, my skirt was as much of a problem as I had expected. It rode up a couple inches and revealed more of my thighs, and was dangerously close to revealing the thick, pink underwear. Shifting in the wooden chair and adjusting the skirt, I made a mental note to keep my legs together at all times. I was familiar enough with the outfit piece from wearing it before, although keeping people from seeing up a skirt when wearing panties was a lot different than what I had on at the moment.
Once I felt situated enough that there wasn’t a risk of accidentally flashing the babyish underwear to anyone, I turned my attention to the assignment before me. Five hundred lines down, five hundred more to go.
‘My name is Miley. I am a well behaved girl who always tells the truth.’
Per Noelle’s instructions from the previous day, I couldn’t just burn through the words either. She had said something along the lines of ‘pretty and legible.’ My handwriting was fine when I was taking notes and writing letters, though this was also something so repetitive and unproductive compared to the things I usually did by hand. If Noelle hadn’t made a point to tell me to put persistent effort into the lines, maybe I would have started slipping.
‘My name is Miley. I am a well behaved girl who always tells the truth.’
‘My name is Miley. I am a well behaved girl who always tells the truth.’
It was just as frustrating and exhausting as the first time around. Mostly because I had been telling the truth ever since Noelle arrived, yet she continued to not trust a single word out of my mouth. I also hadn’t been called ‘Alyssa’ in quite some time, and the non-stop iterations of calling myself Miley on the page just piled onto the way I was addressed by Noelle and the five girls in the living room.
While I worked on the task that would take at least another hour based on my experience from the previous night, Noelle made a fresh pot of coffee and then started pulling out ingredients for breakfast. She was certainly a professional babysitter beyond just the discipline side of things; from the glances I stole while writing my lines, it seemed like she already knew exactly where everything was. Had she taken the time to memorize the kitchen while I was downstairs with Paige and company last night? All I knew was that I was constantly opening the wrong drawers and cabinets when I visited friends and relatives. She didn’t seem to have that problem.
After sternly reminding me to not move a muscle, Noelle poked her head into the living room to ask the girls how many eggs they wanted, followed by a few other details about sides. I could only imagine what Paige was thinking. A weekend where I was treated like her immature little sister, and having someone around to make meals for her? She and her friends weren’t below cooking for themselves, but they would obviously prefer if someone was around to do the cooking and cleaning so they didn’t have to worry about it.
When Noelle returned, I was surprised when she asked me if I wanted any coffee. I was so used to her treating me as a difficult girl that I had briefly forgotten that ‘thirteen’ wasn’t that young. There were plenty of girls Miley’s age who were already drinking coffee. I affirmed that I could use a cup, as maybe that’s just what I needed to wake up a little more and figure out the best course of action moving forward. As if I was going to magically come up with an idea now, after so many hours of trying and failing where such brainstorming was involved.
She placed the mug down in front of me, while reminding me that I wasn’t just working on lines. I also needed to focus on my attitude this morning. Proper, polite, and friendly. Basically the opposite of the real Miley, and also not what I was enthused to be doing when I was still pissed off at Paige. It was easier to manage when it was just Noelle, however. “Thank you,” I said, more or less like I normally would anyway. At the same time, it didn’t sound genuine in the slightest since I had just been told to behave in such a way.
I grimaced at the first sip of coffee. It was SO sweet. How much sugar and creamer had Noelle added? Luckily, I had waited for the drink to cool down, so the brunette was busy making breakfast and hadn’t noticed me make a face. Did she just assume a girl Miley’s age couldn’t tolerate straight coffee?
Since I was supposed to be sitting still and writing lines, as well as meeting whatever Noelle’s criteria was for being polite and respectful, I couldn’t bring myself to speak up about the taste. Instead, I resigned myself to drinking enough of the mug to make it seem like I merely stopped once it got cold. Maybe then I could request simply topping it off with coffee alone. For the time being, I reluctantly sipped at the sickly sweet combination of cream and sugar, barely even tasting the coffee itself.
I was relieved when Noelle told me to put my pages away when it was time for breakfast. It was another example of how she wasn’t actively trying to embarrass me. Though she obviously had no qualms about spanking me in front of Paige mere minutes after arriving, Noelle also knew how to strike a balance between disciplining me privately and publicly. Apparently I had been behaving well enough for her to give me a break before inviting everyone else into the kitchen.
That didn’t mean I was ready for all of them to join us. Our kitchen wasn’t small, but it definitely wasn’t big. I usually stood back and opted to take the end of the line when meals were served in the way Noelle had set things up on the counter. Better to go last and avoid the headache of a chaotic and cramped peninsula. That tactic didn’t exactly work when Paige and her friends all filtered into the kitchen when I was already seated at the table.
While the other four girls grabbed a plate and surrounded the counter, Paige took the opportunity to linger by the table. Noelle was temporarily distracted at the fridge, which gave my step-sister enough time to meet my eyes and murmur, “You still look thirteen, if you were wondering.” She glanced down towards my pelvis for a moment, then added, “I bet you feel younger, too.”
For a moment, I thought she was talking about the pull-ups. Then I realized she was referencing my newfound bareness. Confessing, without actually confessing. For all I knew, it could have just as easily been one of her friends. Either way, however, she knew. And there wasn’t a single thing I could do about it. “I feel fine,” I said. Not the most witty retort, but I had to say something. Trying my best to ignore her amused expression, I stood up and took one of the remaining clean plates.
I half expected all the best breakfast options to be gone, but Paige’s friends proved their ability to demonstrate restraint when the name of the game was to show Noelle that I was the only immature one in the room. That meant not grabbing all the desserts for themselves, which they had definitely done in the past. Of course, that was also the price I paid for going last.
Speaking of proving things to Noelle, I aimed for an even healthier meal than I would normally prepare for myself. It probably wouldn’t do much in the grand scheme of things, but maybe seeing that I had a better diet than the average teenager would give my story some credibility.
By the time I made it back to the table, most of the other girls had already taken their seats. I had learned my lesson from before, and made sure to sit down in a way that kept my skirt from shifting while also keeping my legs together. However, I hadn’t accounted for the pull-ups themselves. There was the slightest crinkle as I settled into the seat, and I prayed that Violet or Shannon hadn’t noticed.
For a moment, I thought I got away with it, including keeping what I hoped was a neutral expression on my face as I took a sip of orange juice. Then, with no warning, Violet’s hand shot over and flipped the front of my skirt up.
Comments
James
I agree 100% I vote for more releases of this story haha
AndiJF
You see, Alyssa? I told you a skirt was a bad idea.
Bel George
I don't know how to explain how sad I am to have to wait another week for the next part. This story really gets better every week.
