Chapter 1

“Marsha, Marsha, MARSHA!” I demanded my sister wake up. She was snoring, and she was fast asleep in the bottom bunk. I wasn’t angry that Marsha was snoring. She does that all the time when she is asleep. I was angry that I couldn’t find my clothes!

It was 1971, and we had just moved into this groovy new house in Southern California after my mother got married. The only downside was that I had to share a tiny bedroom with my two sisters, and one of them had obviously just played a very nasty trick on me.

“What is it, Jan?” Marsha rose out of bed. She was wearing MY white nightgown. It was sheer and did not cover much, but it was a lot more preferable to standing next to our bunk bed completely naked. I had one hand over my boobs and the other over my pussy. I had just sprouted pubic hair, and I was incredibly self-conscious about how dark and curly they were.

My sisters have seen me naked plenty of times. We have to share a single bathroom with our step-brothers so privacy is not a commodity that I take for granted. “Where are my clothes?” I demanded.

“How should I know, Jan? Now let me go back to sleep,” Marsha brushed me off and rolled over.

“You have on my nightgown!” I demanded and poked her. Marsha is my older sister, and sometimes she scares the hell out of me. I insisted that she answer me. I knew she was just pretending to be asleep because no one falls back to sleep THAT fast.

“This is not YOUR night gown, Jan! I have actual boobs, and you have two bee stings! This would never fit you. Yours must be in the laundry,” she said dismissively.

I heard the sound of mischievous laughter from behind me. My parents think that my little sister Cindy is sweet and innocent, but I know better. She is usually in on Marsha’s pranks even though Marsha plays almost as many practical jokes on Cindy as she does me.

“Bee stings!” she repeated Marsha’s insult with an adorable lisping giggle. Cindy was wearing a similar pink nightgown, and she wore her curly blonde hair in ringlet braids for the night.

“Cindy, this isn’t funny!” I turned around. She was looking at my butt. I am self-conscious about that too! Even though my breasts haven’t developed my butt seems to have fattened up and blossomed around the same time I started growing pubic hair. I also have a lot of peach fuzz on my butt cheeks and I don’t know what to do about that.

“It sure SEEMS funny,” she giggled precociously. It’s hard to be mad at Cindy because she finds humor in almost everything.

“My dresser drawer has been cleaned out. The closet is empty! There are no clothes in our bedroom!” I warned Cindy.

“Miss Kitty Karry-All has clothes,” Cindy showed me her doll baby had a complete ensemble of leisurewear and suggested I not worry about it. It was apparent to me that Cindy was teasing me playfully but pretending to be dumb and innocent. It was something she did a lot around my parents.

There were literally no clothes in our bedroom except the ones my sisters wore, and I was freaking out!

“Alice probably took your clothes and washed them,” Marsha suggested the unlikely theory that our Maid had taken every outfit. If Alice had taken my clothes, that included the nightgown I went to sleep in. Marsha suggested she was washing all our clothes in the middle of the night. I wasn’t buying it, and I put my hands on my hips. My sprouting boobs bounced with anger as I told Marsha off, but she pretended to snore.

“This is payback for when you short-sheeted my bed, Sis” Marsha finally came clean that this was part of some revenge for a prank I played on her months earlier.

“Short-shitted the bed,” Cindy spoke with a lisp, and she grinned when she said the filthy word. Our parents had no idea how foul her mouth actually was when we were alone in private. My little brother Bobby taught some words I’ve never even heard before when we first moved into the house.

“Short SHEETED,” I clarified. All I had done was tuck in my sister’s sheets so that it looked like they were the top and bottom sheet. It was barely an inconvenience for her.

“I am sorry, Marsha! Please, let me have my clothes!” I pleaded. My face was turning red again. I put my arm across my boobs and another hand over my pubic area.

“No problem,” Marsha smiled as all was forgiven. “Your clothes are down the hall in the bathroom,” she smiled.

“I can’t get them like this,” I reminded her. I didn’t realize right away that Marsha fully intended to make me as part of her payback. I would have to sneak past our step-brother’s room, and there was a good chance they might catch me. Unlike my sisters, THEY had never seen me naked – at least I didn’t think so at the time.

“No problem, go to sleep, and I’ll get them for you in the morning, but right now, I need my beauty rest!” Marsha rolled over and, with that, stubbornly refused to move.

I turned to Cindy to plead for her to help me. Cindy folded her arms, stuck her chin up in the air, and imitated my older sister. “I need MY beauty rest, too!” she smiled. She was missing her two front teeth, and it made her look impossibly cute. It was hard to be angry with her.

I resigned myself to sleep in the nude. It was surprisingly liberating. I felt the linen against my smooth skin, and it was an incredibly erotic and pleasurable experience. I was just starting to learn my body and the delights and pleasures that I could get simply from the experience of touching a scratchy fabric or laying under the bathtub faucet with my legs spread and letting the warm water cascade between my legs. It was wholly naughty to have these thoughts. I wouldn’t tell anyone about my feelings except my personal diary and maybe my Boyfriend George Glass.

Okay, George Glass isn’t real. He is a dream lover I created in my mind. Tonight, in the sheets, George was very frisky with me, and he played with my pussy until I creamed myself and fell asleep.

In the morning, I awoke shivering and realized that my sisters had stolen the sheets from my bed and left me there. If Alice or my mom walked in, I would be so busted. I wouldn’t know how to explain myself. I was sure they would notice if I wasn’t downstairs for breakfast and come looking for me.

They didn’t. I guess one good thing about being the middle child is that sometimes my absence goes unnoticed in a family of six kids. When Marsha returned from breakfast, she was holding a pair of my panties, a bra, and a nightgown.

“Marsha!” I pouted at her and held my hand over my boobs.

“Oh please, stop acting like a nincompoop, Sis! I saw what you were doing under the sheets,” She said. I turned red in the face. She could tell from the look on my face that I was as skeptical as I was embarrassed.

“When I removed your blanket, I saw where your hands were! You don’t’ have to play innocent around me, Jan. Masturbating is cool. Everybody does it. It’s like the most in thing,” Marsha seemed so worldly and comfortable with her body and sexuality.

I nodded as if I wasn’t humiliated that my older sister knew one of my dirty little secrets. I had been playing with myself all night, thinking about George doing filthy things to me.

“I am going to let you EARN all three of these items,” Marsha held up my clothes in one hand. I couldn’t believe her audacity. Was she making me earn back my OWN clothes?

I meekly asked her what I had to do.

Marsha smiled wickedly and opened her other hand. She had three of Alice’s wooden clothespins. It’s very nice having a maid handle all our laundry. I assumed my sister wanted me to hang something on the clothesline at first.

“All you have to do is wear these for an hour, and I will give you these three articles of clothing,” she said.

“What? Just a nightgown? I can’t walk around in the house like that!” I insisted.

“Fine, you don’t have to. All you have to do is wear them long enough to hunt down the rest of your clothes. Cindy and I set up a little game of treasure seeker for you. All you have to do is find your clothes AND your Diary before Mom does, and you win,” Marsha grinned like the cat that just ate the canary, except they were going to get away with it.

“MY DIARY?” I shouted. That contained all of my secrets and often very horny teenage thoughts! There was a whole section about what I would do to my Principal, Mr. Randolph. I know he is as old as my father, but I really love Intellectual, Mature men, and I wanted to run my fingers over his chest and through his hair. I would be MORTIFIED if my parents or anyone read my diary.

“Keep your voice down, Jan,” Marsha warned me. “I just love how you described the blowjob you would give George Glass. You think blowjobs are where you blow air on someone’s knob like it is a bowl of soup?” Marsha puffed up her cheeks and blew out air to mock me.

I had no idea what a real blowjob was like. I assumed guys would like it if a girl blows on their Johnson. I liked it when I turned my blow dryer on my pussy (on the low setting). I had also detailed the many ways I used household items around the house to get myself off in my diary. I assumed that was why my sister was teasing me with some clothespins.

“Marsha, this isn’t funny!” I demanded.

“Oh, I disagree, Sis. This is hysterical, now do you want one, two, or three clothespins? Each one gets you another article of clothing?” she offered me the clothes. I wanted to wrestle my sister and pull them out of her hands. Marsha is very athletic and a cheerleader. I would surely have lost, and my mom would probably hear us struggling. If she caught me wrestling my sister in the nude, it would only be a matter of time before discovering my diary.

“Three,” I reluctantly agreed. The clothespins open with springs and have sharp wooden teeth designed to grip clothes. At first, I had no idea what my sister had in mind, but the first one she snapped on to my nipple felt really shocked me. I had no frame of reference other than an ant-bite. This was no ordinary ant that bites and then stops. This was the most stubborn and patient ant, and once he bites down into your flesh he never stops sending the tiniest sliver of torture through your nervous system right into your brain.