Girl Scout Cookies
Copyright© 2025 by Eddie Davidson
Chapter 2
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 2 - In an alternate Universe, where girls aren’t expected to have modesty about their bodies, the Traditional Girl Scouts focus on humility, obedience, and hard work. It's Girl Scout season again, and that means Hailey and her sister Alex are selling their cookies. Classic Embarrassed Nude Female (ENF)/CNFM story with influence by NIS (Naked in School) stories. It's also a coming of age story for Hailey.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/ft Teenagers Consensual BiSexual Incest Humiliation Light Bond Spanking Anal Sex Analingus Exhibitionism Facial Flatulence Food Masturbation Sex Toys Squirting Tit-Fucking Small Breasts Illustrated
The Saturday morning sun was already warm in Naples, Florida, and the parking lot at Publix bustled with cars and shoppers. It was just after 10 a.m., and the seagulls circled above and competed with crows for scraps. Alex and I wore our snug Girl Scout uniforms, while Mom, who had a uniform of her own, opted for her usual blouse and skirt instead.
I’m not exactly sure what fabric a Girl Scout uniform is made of, but the pleated skirt and sleeveless tunic always seemed to shrink slightly whenever I started to sweat in the Florida heat. The material was scratchy and resilient, designed for durability against rips and tears rather than comfort.
The saddle shoes I had on were a bit too tight, but I could still walk in them. I was certain Alex’s big bird feet had grown even more than mine had since we got them last year.
My brothers dressed comfortably in T-shirts and jeans. This wasn’t our first time selling cookies here, and I knew the drill. Most customers would pay with cash or through Google Pay on Mom’s phone.
Alex and I had our hands full and lugged the heavy table toward the setup area. Mom carried the cash box, and the boys strolled behind us empty-handed. In fairness, no one had asked my brothers to help, but the sight of their casual pace only added to my annoyance. We still had several more trips to make before everything was in place.
“Okay, you three slits, good luck selling your Girl Scout cookies,” Darrin said. He was obviously testing my mom by pushing her buttons to see if she kept her promise that she wouldn’t lose her temper if he called her a slit. I was used to my brothers calling me much worse at home, so slit really wasn’t that big of a deal to me.
However, it was kind of funny to watch my mom react awkwardly to my brothers being so bold.
I could tell that Mom wanted to say something to him. Maybe she wanted to passive-aggressively threaten him or say she’d had a change of heart. I liked that look on her face when she realized her son talked down to her. It happened to me all the time when my little brothers talked down to me. For some reason, I was thrilled to be called a slit if my mom was included.
I guess it was just the “turn the tables” nature of how she had to accept it that made it seem funny to me.
“What are you smiling about, Hailey?” my mom glowered at me, unable to fire off a response at Darrin.
“I’m just smiling because I’m a dumb bimbo and a slit with tits.”
“With no tits,” Mom half-smiled. I could see she wasn’t really mad at me, and she more or less commiserated with me.
I glanced at Alex, and we could often communicate wordlessly through a look. I think she realized our mother bristled about having been spoken down to by our brothers. Mom frequently spoke about the expectations for females in society, and I’ve seen her let men talk down to her many times in the past. I’ve never seen my brothers test her like that before, though. Things seemed different for them now that they were in high school, even though the school year had just begun.
Respect for Others
Excerpt from the Eight Traditional Core Pillars of the Girl Scouts:
A Scout places respect for others above her own desires for dignity or pride, and she reflects the core values of humility and service. Pridefulness is seen as vanity, which undermines the harmony and hierarchy within the Girl Scouts. A Scout must embrace humility as a virtue, and she accepts corrections, guidance, and teasing without resort to sarcastic or snarky retorts.
When faced with teasing or correction, a Girl Scout must maintain composure and humility. Argumentative or passive-aggressive responses are not permitted. Instead, gratitude for the attention and guidance provided by her betters should be evident, and this ensures that such interactions remain constructive and positive. A Girl Scout is expected to respond politely and diligently to any name she is addressed as, regardless of its nature, to reflect her acceptance of humility and role within the hierarchy.
By prioritizing respect for others and accepting their role within the structure of the troop and society, Scouts embody the values of humility, discipline, and service that define the Girl Scouts program.
A Girl Scout is expected to process her internal emotions, such as frustration, embarrassment, or pride, through the lens of humility, discipline, and service. While these feelings may arise naturally, they must not manifest as outward complaints, defiance, or vanity. It is not fair to others to lash out at them to make the Girl Scouts feel better by knocking others down or to release their pent-up anger.
A Girl Scout is never to learn to shield her sense of self-worth, dignity, or vulnerability by engaging in apathy or adopting philosophies that allow them to ignore embarrassment by not caring what people say or do. The old nursery rhyme “Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me” removes the ability to discipline a Girl Scout through more gentle means such as humiliation and only allows the use of physical forms of punishment such as sticks and stones.
Such philosophies undermine the effectiveness of discipline by encouraging detachment rather than engagement, and they reduce the Scout’s ability to grow from correction, teasing, or public accountability.
Instead, a Girl Scout is taught to accept that humiliation, when constructive, is a tool for fostering self-awareness and responsibility. By facing her emotions openly and without resistance, she demonstrates courage and commitment to her role within the troop and society. Rejecting apathy ensures that she remains receptive to guidance, and this enables gentler disciplinary methods to be effective and minimizes the need for harsher measures.
The Founder of the Girl Scouts shown here with one of her favorite live-in Scouts:
Girl Scouts are also encouraged to embrace the philosophy of the founder of the Traditional Girl Scouts, Juliette “Daisy” Low. The philosophy of “Don’t like it? Tough Titty, Too bad, so sad,” recognizes that discomfort and challenges are integral to growth and discipline and that the place of women in the hierarchy is a foundation upon which harmony can be achieved and strife can be avoided by not allowing women to engage in delusions of equality to men, female empowerment, or feminism that can only lead to strife when genetic and historical evidence has determined that the natural order is preserved when everyone accepts their role.
Girl Scouts must learn to accept and encourage the behaviors and values of the Girl Scouts without rebellion, opposition, anger, or jealousy about privileges that were never intended for them. Appropriate ways to manage these feelings can be found through journaling their daily observations and activities, even if their life is relatively mundane and of little interest to others.
SELLING OUR COOKIES TO TOTAL STRANGERS
We set up our table at the grocery store and arranged the supplies in a way that would hopefully attract attention. Mom directed us where to put the Girl Scout banners, and my brothers hung around for a few minutes to watch before they got bored.
“Okay, boys, I won’t make you hang out with us the entire time, but thank you for coming with me today! You can go explore the shopping plaza, and I’ll text you in a few hours to let you know when we’re wrapping up. Feel free to check in with us anytime! Sound good?”
My brothers nodded, clearly eager to escape the tedium. “Sounds good, Mom,” Luke said, and he already turned toward the pizza place down the way. Darrin gave us a lazy wave. “Good luck selling your cookies, slits!” he called back and grinned as he walked off.
As Alex fastened a Girl Scout flag to the table, she glanced toward Mom and tried not to expose her panties by bending at the waist in a short skirt. Her discomfort reminded me that I didn’t even wear panties today. I immediately stood up straight and pulled my skirt hem down a bit. I could feel the warm air on the bottom of my butt cheeks.
My Girl Scout skirt rode up in the back, and I had to adjust it every few minutes, or it would reveal more and more of my butt crack.
We were already getting attention from mostly older men who ogled us. “Mom,” Alex said, and her voice was low but curious, “I know why my brothers tease me, but you were clearly uncomfortable being called a slit. Why did you volunteer to let them call you that if you don’t have to?”
“The boys are getting older and in high school now. There are things women just have to accept, and one is that guys are going to stare at us,” she looked up and smiled politely at a man who gawked at the three of us. She stopped her response to my sister and apologized politely for the delay. She told him we’d be set up soon and offered to sell him some cookies right now if he couldn’t wait.
“I was staring at your asses! I don’t want to buy a lot of cookies from you! You are all too old to be Girl Scouts, especially the blonde. You aren’t fooling anyone!”
It wasn’t uncommon for a man to be crude like that to women in public, and Mom didn’t seem offended at all by the comment about her age. She didn’t correct him and tell him she is a Troop Leader. She didn’t explain that Girl Scouts are just like Boy Scouts in that the Program runs through High School. Most people dropped out by the time they went to high school, but our Senior Troop (Ranks 4-7) had 18 girls in it.
She smiled at him and thanked him politely. “Take a good long look then, Sir. Look all you want, and we’ll be here setting up.”
Mom didn’t say anything passive-aggressive or pissy about being “sorry she was too old for him.” She simply accepted the taunt. It doesn’t mean she liked it or wasn’t insulted or embarrassed. It meant that my mom believed men should be able to make comments like that about our looks without repercussion, as simple as that.
My mom was almost always chipper and polite to men in general and even other women most of the time. She could be strict with us and lose her patience, but that was most mothers, I assume.
Once he walked out of earshot, she continued her conversation with Alex. “If I’m not going to raise my voice and be a bitch to a total stranger for calling me a name, what should I do if your brothers call me a slit? I don’t care about that man, and I love your brothers. Why should I hold them to a different standard?”
“I guess not,” Alex replied. She had forgotten she wore a short skirt and bent over at the waist. I could see her panties peep out of the back of her skirt. I didn’t interrupt to warn her because my mom was talking.
“Should I say that my pussy is different and special, and they’ll hurt my feelings if they remind me that I am not a man? I saw you both grin like your dad just gave you an allowance and bought you a new cell phone on top of it when they called me a slit in the parking lot. Don’t deny it!”
We couldn’t help it, and we grinned again. My sister stood up, straightened the back of her skirt, and continued to set up the cookies.
“We actually spoil you girls a bit. You think you have it so rough because you get teased a little and have to do housework. There are a lot of girls who wish they had their own bedroom to share with only one other sister and all the freedoms we give you. If the worst thing that ever happens to you is someone calling you a rude name, then you’ve had a good life, I’d say.”
We nodded and agreed with her demurely. She was right, of course.
“Alright, girls, enough showing off and wiggling your fat butts so that men can check out your cute little apple bottoms; we’ve got cookies to sell and work to do.” Mom implied my sister and I had shown off on purpose for attention. “We’ve got a few more trips to make!” She kept the cash box close at hand, and we walked back to the car.
Alex decided to ask another question. “Mom, you said we have it so good. Are there girls who actually get allowances?”
Mom gave a low laugh as if the thought of it amused her. “Probably rich little bitches who are spoiled rotten. Girls don’t need allowances any more than they need modesty. We love you too much to spoil you.”
I raised an eyebrow because the way my mom explained it sounded like a double standard. I had never really questioned why I didn’t get an allowance before. It was just always that way. “But aren’t you spoiling the boys rotten by giving THEM an allowance? They get phones AND an allowance.”
Mom turned to face us as we walked, and she narrowed her eyes with a smirk that played at the corner of her lips.
“This is a question probably best asked of your father because all things considered, I’d love to have an allowance myself. I’ve never had one before I was married, and that didn’t change after I married your father. Allowances for boys are meant to help boys pursue their goals, and they save up for tools, hobbies, or whatever they decide to put their minds to. The money would be spent anyway on those things. This just makes it so that your brothers don’t have to keep asking your father and have more choices on when to spend it and on what.”
I wanted to point out that we could do the same thing, but my Mom wasn’t finished speaking, and I didn’t want to interrupt.
“You girls already have your needs covered, and if you want anything extra, you just have to ask. If your father thinks you actually need it, then he’ll tell me to buy it for you. I’ll be honest, and girls just aren’t trusted to have the good sense to know what to do with their money. You’d blow it on something frivolous like makeup, wouldn’t you?”
Alex shot her a defiant look. “So, what if I did? The allowance would be my money and my choice to make, wouldn’t it?”
Mom chuckled again. “I’m starting to wonder if you’ve been listening to progressive television,” she teased. She knew full well we didn’t watch much television, and we certainly didn’t get to pick the programs the family watched. “It’s not YOUR money; you didn’t earn it. Your father did. It’s his choice to give us an allowance, but he doesn’t. You still get money spent on you. You just have to do an extra verification step, and that is why you really need it. If it’s a want, you probably won’t get it, Alex. Let’s be honest, if we had money, wouldn’t we buy some Haagen-Dazs right now?”
Alex gave a dramatic sigh. “Would it be so bad if we could have ice cream today? It’s hot, and we’ve got a lot of work to do. We could have it as a reward?” she suggested sweetly.
“Alex, where is this coming from all of a sudden? Now, you act like a self-indulgent little princess who wants Ice Cream before you will do what you are supposed to do?” Mom was more than a little worried about the question. “You’ve already had your reward, and it’s called a roof over your head, food in your belly, and the clothes on your back. You don’t get rewards for doing what’s expected of you.”
I wondered the same thing. My sister’s questions might have been a result of my brothers’ decision to push their luck with mom’s goodwill toward being called a slit. It seemed like my little sister may have had these questions before today and she just never asked them. She had hung around with some neighbor girls over the summer, and they may have put these thoughts in her head as well.
“I am not trying to be a brat, Mom!” Alex said as she carried the heavy boxes of cookies pressed to her chest, and we walked through the busy parking lot. “It’s just that today, you said the boys are getting older, so they get to do a little more. They have roofs over their heads and food in their bellies and all that, so why do THEY need a reward?”
“Look,” Mom started, and her tone was measured but direct, “I asked the same questions when I was your age, and I’ll tell you what my mom told me. You might hate it, and you might disagree, you can get angry or cry like a bitch, you can curse the fates, you can wish on every star at night, but boys and girls are born different and that’s nature.”
“I am not trying to deny nature, Mom. I am just wondering why boys spending the money how they want is different for girls.”
“I don’t know where this is coming from; it should be fairly obvious that men are the ones who govern and run things. There are no women principals, presidents, or CEOs, just like there are no male mothers or maids. It’s the natural order of things. Men have invented every technology because they are better at engineering and science. That’s not a coincidence, Alex.”
“We don’t get taught advanced math or science, Mom,” I pointed out with a pout.
“Not you, too? Suddenly, the women’s lib has invaded the Girl Scouts?” Mom laughed and held up her hands like she surrendered. “You can barely pass the basic math and science classes you are in. How would you do in a Boy’s math or science class?”
Mom had a good point. I withdrew my objection. I had no idea how advanced math worked. I just thought it was unfair that boys were so good at almost math, science, sports, and leadership and girls were meant to be good wives that smell nice and look pretty for them.
“Your father handles making the money. He sends me to the grocery store to buy the food. We each have our talents and contribute to the house according to our ability to contribute. He handles the big picture stuff, and I am a detail person,” Mom’s explanation made a lot of sense. I think Alex could see that as well. She wasn’t arguing in the first place; she had only asked questions.
“You don’t NEED money. You WANT money because you like to want things, Alex. Just like you don’t need modesty, and if someone sees your boobs or butt or calls you a twat, it’s because you are a twat. You don’t need ice cream; you’ll survive without it. Boys get indulged now and then because they’re ambitious, and they get better toys than us. It’s fair, though, because it’s the same for all girls, with the exception of a couple of spoiled brats who bitched and got their way.”
“I am sorry for asking, Mom. That makes sense,” Alex apologized.
“No need to apologize for asking a question if you don’t know the answer. The dumbest girls are the ones who don’t even do that much. I’m flattered you both asked me and not your father. I think he may have put it a little more bluntly.”
“Yeah, blunt like a paddle on a butt,” I quipped.
“Your father is not an unreasonable man, and I know you are being facetious, but he would never spank you for asking a question respectfully if you really don’t know the answer. Your brothers are a year younger than you, and they are starting to ask more questions, too. Boys mature faster than we do, so it’s only natural you’d have things you’re still figuring out.”
“I appreciate it, Mom,” Alex expressed gratitude.
Mom gave a dry laugh and added, “You should learn to appreciate the privileges that YOU do get, and find ways to take pleasure in simple things. We do get ice cream sometimes. We just don’t get to open the ice box and take it out whenever we want. We’d be fat as hell if we did that.”
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