There was nothing special about the department store. It was like a thousand others in its chain. A massive, international network of box stores that sold everything you could want or imagine. From cookware to bedding to toys, almost everything could be found here.

The figure moving through the store appeared no different than any of the other shoppers. It moved with a calm grace, nodding at the other shoppers. Nondescript, the figure didn’t stand out one bit. No one even noticed the pair of panties clutched in the figure’s hand. They were a pale pink, with the word Bratty printed in gold, glittery letters across the rear. Any girl who wore them and flashed them would give a dazzling display of teasing delight.

The perfect garment for a brat.

The figure headed to the clothing section frequented by high school girls. It passed a stand with dozens of panties on it in all shapes and styles and designs. With a casual flick of the wrist, the Bratty panties landed with the others. There to await a certain someone.

Anna Carter, fourteen, was shopping with her father and two older brothers. Her shoulder length, brown hair was held back from her face by a pair of pink barrettes. She wore a demure outfit compared to her peers, a dark blouse tucked into a long skirt. The neckline of her top hardly showed any cleavage at all, just some ivory swath of her collarbone. She had bright, hazel eyes and plump lips over a small nose.

“Boys,” growled her father, a stern-looking man named Frank Carter. He was tall and muscular, his nose large. A trait both his sons, Rick and John, possessed.

“Just messing around with John, Dad,” Rick, the eldest, said, a big grin on his face.

John was rubbing his arm. “Is that what you call a sucker punch?”

Rick grinned. “God, if I thought you were pussy, I wouldn’t have given you a love tap. Anna could’ve taken that one.”

Anna squirmed, the tips of her ears burning. She obviously looked embarrassed by her brother’s actions. She glanced at the clothing and, shyly, said, “Dad, I need to pick up a few things.”

Her father, a widower, flicked his gaze to the clothing section. At the sight of all those feminine garments, he cleared his throat. “Yes, fine, just meet us in the sporting goods section in about twenty minutes.”

She nodded her head and slipped out into the clothing section.

She needed a few new pairs of panties. Nothing extravagant. She preferred the cheap kind, the ones with a full cut, not the daring ones the girls at her high school liked to wear. Perhaps it was the gold glitter on the word Bratty that drew her attention, or maybe it was the dangling thong above it, a strip of cloth so narrow that Anna couldn’t understand how it could cover anything.

Either way, she drifted over to the pale-pink panties and touched the cotton/polyester blend. The word Bratty sent this strange, exhilarating thrill through her. It was so rebellious. Something that a bad girl would wear.

Not a good girl like Anna.

She swallowed, fidgeting. She didn’t know what strange desire possessed her, but she snatched it up, her ears burning more, her cheeks gaining a pale, pink tinge. She darted over to a rack holding ten packs of cheap panties and snagged the first one she could. She buried the Bratty pair beneath the pack, clutching it tight, and then darted to go look at some new skirts.

She fidgeted for the rest of the shopping trip, squirming, fearing that her father would see what she bought. But he didn’t notice. Not even when she went to check out and the cashier scanned it. No one seemed to notice that the machine didn’t beep nor that a price didn’t show up on the screen as the cashier placed it in a bag with the rest of the clothes that Anna bought.

She clutched her bag, fearful that her father would discover her purchase.

Anna Carter

Two weeks later, I was still terrified that my father would find that certain pair of panties tucked in the back of my drawer. It was buried amid socks and bras, but was also the last pair of clean panties I had. I’d worn every pair of clean panties I had, including the ten from the pack I bought.

“There you go,” I said, placing the breakfast of eggs and bacon I made before my father, my stomach squirming.

His brown eyes flicking up and down me. Did he know?

“Ah, thank you, Anna,” he said.

I bent down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before I hurried over and set down plates before my brothers. Rick’s orange juice was right on the edge of the table. I was just turning away to take my own seat when John went to smack Rick. John’s hand flew out, striking the glass of orange juice on his way to our brother.

I gasped, watching the green, plastic cup flying right at me. A few drops of orange juice led the way. I gasped and struggled to dodge it, but it came at me too fast. It struck my skirt right below my bellybutton. I felt all the liquid soak through my skirt to my panties. I squeaked in shock, blinking. I could feel the cold bleeding through to my privates.

“No, no, no,” I groaned, my heart beating so fast. I could feel my last pair of clean panties absorbing the staining liquid.

“Goddammit, John!” Dad barked at my middle brother. “Look what you did to your sister!”

“Sorry, Dad,” John muttered.

“Don’t apologize to me! Apologize to your damn sister!”

John looked at me, his face pale. “Sorry, Anna, I didn’t mean to...”

“Yeah, if you weren’t such a clumsy spaz, you—” Rick started to say.

Though he was older than John, he was gaining on Rick in size. Snarling, John threw a hard punch at Rick, forcing my older brother to lean back and deflect the blow.

“Boys!” Dad snarled, pounding his fist into the table to punctuate his words. “That’s it! You’ve both had enough breakfast. You’re finished.”

“See what you’ve done now,” muttered Rick as he stood up. He marched past me as the orange juice dripped from my skirt.

“He shouldn’t be posting shit about me on Facebook,” John muttered as he stood up. He gave me another sheepish look before he darted off.

“Anna, honey,” Dad said, his voice lowering, “go upstairs and get change.”

“But...” I stammered. This couldn’t be happening.

“I’m sorry, hope that didn’t stain your skirt. If it did, I’ll make them buy you a new one.”

I just nodded, terrified. I only had one last pair of clean panties.

I stumbled out of the kitchen in a daze. I didn’t want to have to put on those panties, but these ones were soaked with orange juice. Going without panties was just unacceptable. The yawning pit of dread swelled and swelled in my belly as I stumbled through the living room. I reached the stairs, my brothers moving around above.

I swallowed, my panties wet and cold and soaked. Grimacing, I marched up the stairs, hating how the sodden panties rubbed against me. Tears were beading in my eyes. Why did Rick and John have to be so mean to each other? Why couldn’t they just be nice? They were always yelling and punching and hitting. Why couldn’t they be good like me? They were such brats.

Now I had to wear those panties. What if Dad found out?

I knew he probably wouldn’t, since my skirts were all long. There should be no way he would see what I wore beneath, but what if something weird happened? What if John thought it would be funny to yank down my skirt? He hadn’t done that in a few years, but when I was younger, he thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Knowing my luck, he would do it to me today.

My cheeks burned just thinking about those embarrassing, gold letters being seen blazing across my rear.

Why did I buy them? I still didn’t understand it. It made zero sense to me. They were so naughty. I liked plain, sensible panties. Not the type that you wore so boys could see them.

I reached the second floor and took a few steps to my bedroom door. I twisted the brass handle and darted inside. I closed it behind me, wishing my door had a lock on it. I wanted to just hide in here, but I couldn’t do that.

I couldn’t stay in here all day.

Eventually, I’d have to leave to eat. To use the restroom. Do my chores. I really, really needed to do my laundry, so I could get some panties that were clean Then I could take the Batty panties off as soon as possible.

That was what I had to do.

I unzipped my skirt and pulled it off, wincing at the orange stain across the front of my plain, white panties. I dropped my skirt in my clothes hamper and peeled off my sodden underwear. They stuck to me, making me feel so dirty. I balled up the panties, found a clean patch, and wiped at my brown bush. I got the last of the juice out of my hair then threw my panties into the hamper.

I groaned when I spotted the orange stains splashed across my top. That had to go, too. I peeled it off, tugging it over my slender form. My hair flew about my face, leaving it a tousled mess. I would have to comb it again. It was such an untamable mane today.

“Darn that John,” I muttered, throwing my top down on the other dirty clothes as hard as I could.

I groaned as I spotted something at the bottom of my vision. There was a single stain on my bra. An orange blemish on the white fabric. I sighed, reached behind me, and unfastened it. I slipped it off and now was naked.

I hated being naked.

My brothers could burst in. I darted to my dresser, my little breasts quivering. I yanked open the door, staring at the pile of socks and bras shoved into the corner, hiding my naughty secret. I swallowed. No helping what I had to do.

My hand darted forward, shoving the piles of clothing to the side. I unveiled the panties lying there, some of the glittery letters visible. The two T’s and a hint of the Y.

I felt a strange tingle as I grabbed the panties. An exhilaration ran across my skin, my little nipples hardening as it raced down past my breasts to my stomach. I gasped as it jolted to my pussy, making my sex ache. I whimpered, my cheeks burning bright, the tips of my ears blazing with embarrassment.

I unfolded the panties, unveiling those glittering letters to my eyes. Bratty. I was the exact opposite. Why did I buy these?

Stairs creaked. I gasped, realizing Daddy was coming up the stairs. Panicking, I quickly bent down and thrust my right foot through the leg hole. Another surge of electricity raced up my leg. I gasped as it hit my pussy, this wet heat forming deep in my depths. I whimpered and groaned, shuddering at the feeling. Why was this happening to me?

The stairs creaked louder. I had to get dressed.

I thrust my left foot through the other hole and yanked the panties so fast up my legs my breasts bounced. I wiggled my hips, seating the panties tight against my pussy. The elastic band snapped around my waist. I could feel the naughty letters blazing across my rump.

Bratty.

As Daddy reached the top of the stairs, a wicked idea blazed in my mind. I moaned, trembling in my kinky panties, my breasts jiggling. They were cute, little titties. Perfect cones topped by pink nipples. Both were hard and delicious.

I tweaked one and giggled at the naughty feeling that flowed through me. My smile broadened as I heard Daddy reach the top of the stairs. He was about to walk by my door.

I turned to face it and said in a cheerful voice, “Hi, Daddy!”

He was just passing my door. I heard him pause, the floor creaking. I smiled as he grabbed my doorknob. He turned it, opened the door, and thrust his head in. “Did you need anyt...”

His words trailed off as he stared at my budding, underage titties. His jaw dropped, his eyes bulging while his cheeks went scarlet.

I let him stare for one wonderful second. Then I gasped, “Daddy!” Squealing, I “covered” my breasts, my hands not hiding my nipples at all. “Get out of here! I’m naked! Why didn’t you knock?”

He jerked his head back, slamming my door shut so hard the entire house trembled. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Anna.”

“Why would you do that?” I gasped. “I’m fourteen! You can’t just barge in on me.”

It was so hard not to giggle. My pussy felt so juicy. I pinched both my nipples, tweaking them as I heard daddy shifting on his feet outside my door.

“You said hi,” he groaned. “I thought—”

“Yes, hi!” I gasped in fake outrage, my fingers tugging hard on my nipples. My pussy clenched, feeling so wet and juicy. “Not come on in!”

“I’m sorry,” he said and then hurried down the hallway to his room. I snorted, trying not to burst into laughter. It was so much fun to tease Dad. It made my pussy nice and juicy. Just the way I liked it.

Humming, I sauntered to my dresser, eager to find the perfect thing to wear. I opened my drawers, looking at all the blouses and shirts I had. I groaned, shaking my head. They were so ... girly. Childish. None of them had that pizzazz that fit me. Surely, I had clothes that weren’t so babyish. I pulled out one top that looked like a frock.

I wanted to gag.

How could I wear any of these? What was wrong with me?

I threw that down then rummaged through the drawer, throwing more and more tops to the floor. Through the thin wall, I heard the springs of John’s bed creaking. I smiled, hearing the shifting. I knew what that meant. He was flogging the bishop in there. Having fun with Rosie Palmer and her five sisters. I squirmed, naughty ideas making my pussy wetter and wetter.

Smirking, I searched and searched for something I could wear.

I found an old t-shirt, something I wore three or four years ago that had gotten shoved to the back of my drawer. It was tiny. It would mold to my body and hug my firm, little titties. I bet it would show a good inch or two of my belly. I smiled as I pulled it on.

It. Was. Tight.

I had to wiggle to pull it over me, feeling the material stretching around my body. I gasped when it crossed my nipples, stimulating my little buds. I groaned, my pussy getting so juicy and wet. My naughty panties absorbed the flood of my excitement.

I wiggled my rump, glancing over my shoulders to see those glittering letters on my panties flashing in my stand mirror.

Finally, I got the shirt over me. It fit me like a glove, molding around my little breasts. My nipples poked hard against the fabric. It was so short, it exposed my bellybutton. I loved it.

And it gave me an idea.

“I bet I have a pair of shorts that I haven’t worn in a few years,” I muttered, hearing the bed springs from my brother’s bedroom groaning louder. He must be watching some porn on his phone, wearing headphones so no one would know what he was doing.

But I did.

I bent over, wiggling my rump, imagining Dad or Rick or John watching my ass shake as I dug around in my bottom-most drawer. It was full of shorts that I’d put away since summer was over. I dug through and then...

Triumphed!

I found a pair of jean shorts that I hadn’t worn in two years. I could tell they would be tight.

The bed springs creaked louder, the rhythmic slap echoing.

I slid my legs into the shorts. I worked them up and up my legs, my hips wiggling from side to side. My little titties quivered in my top, bouncing as I pulled the shorts higher and higher. I groaned as I slid the tight fabric up over my rump. I sucked in a deep breath, struggling to fasten them closed. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t fat. I had a flat, taut stomach. I was just younger when I wore these jeans. I groaned, straining to draw the fasteners together.

I couldn’t button them.

I could, however, draw up the zipper most of the way. It held my fly shut. Mostly. I felt so naughty especially with my panties peeking out. I grinned, loving the effect. My wicked pussy growing hotter and hotter as I admired myself.

Through the wall, I could hear John really going to town on his cock. He was spanking his monkey like the second coming was about to happen, and he wanted one last cum before Jesus Christ arrived.

Did he deserve to get off?

Nope!

Not after he spilled orange juice all over me.

I crept to my door, opening it so, so carefully. I creaked it open inch by inch, wider and wider. No squeak from the hinges. I had a huge grin as I slipped out into the hallway. I heard the shower going, guessing Rick was in there. I had ideas for him, too.

Then, Dad stepped out of his bedroom. He blinked when he saw me in the hallway, his cheeks reddening. Without a word, he hurried past me, looking straight ahead like he was pretending he didn’t see my cute, little titties bouncing naked minutes ago. He scurried down the stairs, not even noticing how salacious my outfit was. What a shame. It was so much fun teasing him.

I shrugged.

I waited outside of John’s bedroom, listening and waiting for the sound of his bed to start creaking again. Dad had spooked him. I squirmed in delight when he resumed, thinking he was safe. My smile grew larger and larger. I grabbed the door handle, grinning from ear to ear now. I drew in a deep breath, my entire body trembling. Tingles raced from my panties, electrifying all of my skin, driving me to be the biggest brat in the world.

I wrenched open the door, jumped inside his bedroom, shouting, “Every time you masturbate, God kills a kitten!”

John, his shirt pulled up to expose his flat stomach and his hand stroking his dick, kicked his legs as he struggled to cover himself. “Shit!”

He glared at me as he managed to pull his blanket over his cock. His face turned beet red as I shook my head at him. I waggled my finger just to be more of a brat.

“What the fuck!” he snarled. “Get out of here!”

“Don’t you know that masturbation makes you go blind?” I taunted, grinning at him.

“Anna, you fucking bitch!”

I gasped in mock shock. “I’m gonna tell daddy you called me a bitch!” I grinned at him. “And that you were jerking off your little pud. Just milking it.”

I darted out of the room and closed the door. I burst into laughter as I heard him scrambling around.

No getting off for him. I might have hated that skirt, and he’d soaked my unflattering panties, but he had no right to cover me in orange juice.

It was time to get back at my older brother for provoking John. My little pussy tingled as I approached the bathroom door. The shower hissed. Our house was old. It lacked locks on any of the doors, even the bathroom. My brothers had used that to their advantage many times to pull pranks on each other.

Now it was my turn.

I twisted the door’s brass handle ever so slowly. I cracked the door open, the sound of my brother, Rick, showering grew louder. Water sprayed and splashed. He hummed as he washed. He had no idea I was in here with him. The steam spilled around me as I pushed the door open just a little farther. I could see him as a shadow through the plastic curtain, moving as he scrubbed himself.

A wicked thrill ran through me. I had seen him without a shirt on, his body all smooth muscles. My pussy clenched as I spotted his clothes sitting atop a brown towel. He’d brought it in from the linen closet.

We didn’t keep towels in the bathroom.

I grinned as I crept forward. His humming stopped as I grabbed his clothes and towel in my greedy hands. The shower curtain ripped open, and there was my brother naked, shampoo suds in his hair, his cock swaying half-hard, thrusting from his dark thatch of pubic hair.

“Anna?” he asked in shock.

I stuck out my tongue at him as I scooped up his clothes and towels. I bolted.

“You fucking little brat!” he snarled as I whirled around, my brown hair whipping about my face. I darted for the door and raced out of the hallway. I heard Rick charging after. Giggling, I clutched his clothes to my chest as I raced down the stairs. My feet drummed a fast beat as I rushed downstairs like an avalanche.

Rick stumbled after me.

I threw a look over my shoulder and grinned as he struggled to cover his dick with one hand as he charged down the stairs, his free hand sliding down the banister. “Give me back my clothes, you fucking brat!”

Laughing, I jumped the last few stairs and landed on the first floor. I darted to my right, heading into the living room. I could hear Dad’s recliner swinging shut with that loud clang. I burst into the living room to see him standing up, his face twisted in anger until he saw me. Confusion flicked across his expression as I clutched Rick’s clothing and towel to my chest.

“Daddy, Daddy!” I gasped, dropping everything as I rushed towards him. “Rick is chasing me naked!”

Rick burst into the living room and froze as he saw me throwing myself at our father. I hugged Daddy while giving Rick a gleeful look over my shoulder. I stuck my tongue out at him. Fury soared across my oldest brother’s face as I snuggled up tight against Daddy’s strong chest. My little nipples throbbed. Through the thin fabric of my t-shirt, I felt how strong Daddy was.

“What the fuck, Rick?” gasped daddy as he stared as my older brother.

“That little bit ... She stole my clothes, Dad!”

“Anna?” Daddy asked.

“I just had to dart into the bathroom to get something, and then Rick spotted me and I panicked, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just grabbed his clothes out of fright, and he was chasing me all naked, and his cock was thrusting hard before him, and I didn’t know what to do, I was so scared, so I came to you, Daddy!”

“You little—”

“Rick!” growled Daddy.

“Sorry, sir,” Rick muttered, still covering himself. “That’s a lie. She stuck out her tongue at me. She stole my clothes on purpose!”

“Why would I do it on purpose?” I asked, rubbing against Daddy. I could feel his cock swelling hard. It made my pussy so wet in my naughty panties.

John entered the living room. “Dad, she burst into my room to make fun of me!” John added. “While I was ... studying.”