Maundy Thursday

  It was after school, and you sat at your computer perusing some less than wholesome material. Your family had appeared to have recently given you an unspoken break in their normal routine of finding ways to torture you. You decided to use your time alone acting in a manner apropos of a young man.

  That was until...

  “Oh brother dear~” Chelsea sang, walking unannounced into your room, “It's Maundy Thursday! Will you come celebrate with me?”

  “What?” You said, quickly alt-tabbing away from your lewd browsing and spinning around in your chair.

  “It's a Christian holiday, the day before Good Friday, duh. What are they teaching you in school nowadays?” Chelsea sidled closer to you, letting her tips of her ballet flats drag on the soft carpet of your room.

  “I guess not enough, heh...is it an important holiday? It's not like you even believe in that stuff...” You responded nervously, trying to figure out your sister's play.

  “I still find celebration an exciting experience. Besides, it's my job to study and teach about religions. Come on, it'll be fun~” She flicked her tongue over her lips on that last note. “Besides, if you don't, I'll tell our mother about what you were just looking at.”

  “N-n-no need for that...I, uh, guess I'll come..heh..” You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to figure some way out of what was guaranteed to be a (literally) belittling experience. Chelsea's 'lessons' were more often a way for her to rationalize some cruelty towards you. Still, you knew better than to defy her outright. The conclusion to that action would certainly be worse.

  “Fantastic! Let's do it in my room!” Chelsea smiled wide and grabbed your wrist, pulling you from your seat and out of the door.

  “Wh-what's the rush?” You sputtered, your short legs barely keeping up with the long slender ones of your elder sibling.

  “I'm just excited!” Chelsea practically threw you into her room, following quickly and closing the door. “Sit in that chair, and I'll teach you all about it.”

  You took a seat on the pilfered school chair sitting at the foot of Chelsea's tall bed. She hopped on the mattress and let her legs hang over the edge facing you. The difference in height would allow her to use the chair, and your thighs, as an ottoman if she were so inclined (and she probably was, although you tried in vain to be optimistic about that possibility).

  “So! Maundy Thursday, the day in which Jesus ate his last supper. You know that story, almost everyone does. But! Do you know what he did before that?”

  “Um...I don't know...said something about peace and love?” You winced at your own answer.

  “Mufufu, no silly!” Chelsea laughed her telltale laugh. “He washed his disciples' feet!”

  “Uh oh!” You yelped, already knowing what was about to occur. You moved to stand up, but Chelsea snapped up her leg and knocked you back into your seat with the sole of her shoe.

“Now shrink! So we can celebrate together!” Chelsea's sing-song intonation swung down in tone, the doppler effect in action, as your body rapidly reduced in size, leaving you bug sized in the center of the chair.

  “It's pretty interesting, isn't it?” Chelsea asked, using the chair's seat to pry off her flats, revealing her pale, sweaty feet. The action must have been nothing to your sister, but to you it was like the motion of a great and terrible storm. One of her feet loomed towards you, toes scrunching in anticipation.

  “By the way, you don't get the pleasure of a towel or bathwater. You're just going to have to use your tongue to get all that dirt.” Chelsea grinned her Cheshire Cat grin, as her stuffy toes finally enclosed over you. Your face was immediately thrust into the slick, soft folds of her digits. The air pushed away for a moment, leaving you breathless, before suddenly rushing back, the smell of your sister's day-long sweat quickly invading your cavities. You wavered for a moment before finally sticking out your tongue and beginning the long, arduous process.

  “Mm, very good, my little bug brother. Now, listen closely. The term Maundy is thought to come from two places, either the Latin mandatum, or the French mendier. The former simply refers to it as a mandate, although the latter means literally 'to beg.' Perhaps I should have made you beg to lick my feet clean?” Chelsea giggled.

  'Oh god, like this isn't bad enough.' You thought to yourself, being sure not to slow your pace and continuing to lap up dirt from between Chelsea's toes.

  “Hm, now, many different sects practice foot washing. Symbolically it means different things in different places, although it often is meant to be an act of humility. What do you think? Is this humiliating?” Chelsea's toes gripped around you tightly before wiggling you back onto the chair and trapping you under the ball of her foot. You once again stuck out your tongue and did your best to remove the grime collected on her lowest parts. “Mm, I'll take that as a yes.”

  Chelsea lifted her foot off of you, creating a brief reprieve you were honestly thankful for.

  “I guess you could call that clean,” She said, inspecting her toes. “Time for the next one.” Her other foot quickly dropped over you, making you relive her filth for a second time.

  For another hour, Chelsea lectured as you licked.

  “That should be good enough, my little insect disciple. Now, this should still leave one big question in your mind.” Chelsea said, removing her sole from your body and reaching towards you with her hands. “Why would the supposed Lord wash the feet of his lessers?”

  You were completely exhausted, and totally covered in your sister's stink. You weakly lifted your arms into a (hopefully) visible shrug.

  “It was to show that there really is no fundamental difference between servant and master.” Chelsea gave you a quixotic smile before pulling off your tiny shoes, pants, and underpants in one swift motion. “Which means it's time for me to give you a wash too.”

  “W-w-wait!” You cried, but it was too late. Your gigantic sister pulled you towards her full, spreading, cherry-red lips, your lower half entering before the plush flesh closed over you. Your sister flicked her tongue all around your legs, soaking them in her sticky saliva, before quickly pulling you out.

  “There we go, that wasn't too bad. What took you so long with mine?” Chelsea snarked, rolling you flat onto her palm. Her attention was quickly drawn, however, to your now stiff member, sticking straight up from your prone body like a tiny flagpole.

  “Oh ew, cover yourself you letch.” She dropped you and your clothes onto the chair. You shakily stepped into your pants, trying hard to pull them up over your wet legs. The light above you suddenly dimmed and you looked up just in time to see Chelsea's hand grabbing you, yet again.

  “Pop quiz! Any less than perfect and I'll assume you'll need to repeat this lesson with the rest of the family.” Chelsea smirked.

  “Wh-WHAT?!” You shrieked, probably loud enough for your sister to hear, even at your reduced size.

  “From which two words is the term 'Maundy' considered to originate from?” Chelsea lifted you to her ear.

  “Um..mend...mendi...uh...mend-” You sputtered.

  “Bzzzt! Oh noo-ooo!” Chelsea pulled you in front of her face and flashed a grin of monolithic, perfectly white teeth, “Looks like little buggy needs to be taught again. I bet Rachel's feet will be needing a clean after practice today. Let's go wait for her downstairs.”

  “Ugh...I hate Maundy Thursday...” You lamented, as your sister happily jaunted towards the stairs with you in hand.

-End-