Scott was itching now more than ever to be put down on the ground and left to his own devices, if only for a few minutes.  It was the only hope he had, considering his evening was about to consist of being forcibly bathed, followed by a sleepless night of being worn in his sister’s fleecy socks.

            He’d already spent the better part of this night being trodden into a brain-dead lump inside Maggie’s cleats, and now he found himself being firmly embraced as she cradled him against her breasts and carried him inside the house like a helpless infant.

            As he shifted against her shirt, he became aware that his sibling must’ve removed her sports bra in the locker room before leaving, because he could feel her nipple through her jersey nudging earnestly against his shoulder.  This was a practice she didn’t shy from, as she was still young enough that gravity hadn’t become an issue even without one on.  He tried to ignore it, but it was difficult, especially the longer Maggie pressed him against her shirt, because he swore he could feel it firming up from the contact.

            It was an involuntary action, he knew, but all the same, this moment couldn’t end soon enough.

            Like clockwork, Maggie had chosen to take the most ponderous pace for their entrance to the house.  She moved only one foot at a time very carefully as though walking on eggshells across the garage.  Scott could only imagine the bruises he’d have been spared this night if she had walked on him with such care when she had him gingerly stowed away under her warm toes.

            When they reached the kitchen of the Stevens household, Scott felt Maggie’s hand pressing itself against his chest again to grip him so he could be set down.  To his sinking dismay, though, he felt her secondhand knee-sock he’d been using as pants on the way home steadily slipping off his legs as she stripped it from him with her other hand, leaving him at a foot tall and totally naked in her grasp, save for the ankle bracelet.

            She quickly set him down on the floor before her, though, whereupon he threw one hand over his exposed junk and gazed up meekly at Maggie, who had placed her hands on her hips, her toned legs separated in a stance of aggressive intimidation.

            Not that she really needed the extra boost, though, given that her brother’s head only reached partially up her shin.

            Teasingly, the hand that had stolen the sock dangled it at arm’s length between two fingers.  Scott reached up uselessly as she offered the knee-high far too much above his head for him to grab, even with a running jump.

            His cheeks blushed a deep red against his best intention to keep cool.  He couldn’t believe how desperately he wanted to climb back into his sister’s gigantic soccer sock still soaked with sweat and stained with grass clippings, and yet here he was reaching pleadingly up at her for it.  As much as he loathed the thing with every fiber of his being, at this moment, it was better than nothing.

            And nothing was all he had.

            “What’s the matter, little boy?” Maggie chuckled.  “You want some help with something?”

            Swallowing hard enough to hurt his throat, Scott nodded.

            “Well, what could it be?” she continued.

            “Please,” he deadpanned.  “Can I have it back?”

            “Have what back?” she simpered.  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

            “The sock,” he managed to croak.  “Please?”

            “My sock?” Maggie answered with false surprise.  “What do you want with my sock?”

            “I want…” Scott breathed, choking back a quaver in his voice.  “I want to put it back on.  Please.”

            “Awww.  Sorry, Scotty, but this thing is so gross.  I wouldn’t dream of letting you get back inside.  No, I think you’ll be fine down there in your birthday suit.”

            Maggie giggled incessantly, savoring the defeated look on her brother’s face as he slumped involuntarily into a seated position on the ground before her mighty feet.  It’s not like she would’ve look at him any differently whether he stood or sat.

            Still, he kept his hand over his crotch.  It didn’t matter to him how often she’d actually seen him fully bare.  Any shred of dignity he could hold onto this evening was a blessing he didn’t intend to squander.

            “Tell you what, though,” Maggie winked.  “Since you asked so nice, I’m sure we can hook you up with something later.”

            “Great,” he shrugged without even looking back up.

            “Really, though, I don’t understand the whole thing with you getting embarrassed in front of me, Scott,” Maggie confessed at length while casually balling the sock up into her fist.

            Scott actually felt his heart sink at this sight, and then sink again when he realized just how disappointed he was to be definitively deprived of the chance to clamber back into his sister’s sock.

            “You can’t surprise me anymore.  With your body, I mean.  It’s time you started feeling comfortable around me, no matter how much you’re showing, now that you’re staying back home.  And we’re gonna fix that, right after I shower.  Don’t go too far, okay?” Maggie instructed, bounding out of the kitchen toward the hallway stairs, before halting suddenly in the doorframe and turning to glance one more time down at her foot-tall brother cowering nakedly on the tile floor.

            “Besides, you shouldn’t be embarrassed,” she shrugged, tapping on the edge of her lip with her pointer finger thoughtfully and brushing her golden hair off her forehead with the other hand.  “I know some people who would want a piece of your Mini Scott if you weren’t a little shrimp right now.”  With a final sly smirk, she disappeared upstairs.

            When his sister was well out of sight and sound, Scott couldn’t help but tremble with combined fear and disgust at the implication.  A matter of months ago, he couldn’t have imagined her speaking to him like that with such boldness and disregard for any kind of social boundary, even if she was only joking at his and her friend Libby’s expense.

            It was clear barriers were no longer important to her.

            And they didn’t need to be.

            There was no denying how Maggie was changing.  She was sixteen now and would be seventeen before the calendar year was out.  Her hair was longer, her body had been sculpted thanks to her soccer training, her mind was sharper and better primed for mature knowledge; more significantly, though, she was really coming into her sense of self as a confident, autonomous woman who just happened to have access to her own little pet boy at home.

            Perhaps most dangerous of all, for all the wrong reasons, was the development of her personal sexuality.  When Scott used to visit home from college, as infrequently as Judy would allow, he noticed something different in Maggie, and not just in the more revealing tops and shorts she chose to wear.  From the way she held herself upright to the way she winked and blew soft midair kisses to attractive guys on the street, she was fully into the mode of discovering herself in these ways too.

            And now, apparently, Scott was being slowly initiated into that process, just by nature of being the weakest living thing within her grasp.

            In her youth, when given charge of her shrunken sibling, she rarely gave a second thought to whether or not he was clothed, but now she seemed to actually prefer watching him strip down.  And the more he did it, the less she laughed like she once did and chose to focus intently instead, with only a half-hearted giggle provided, as though she didn’t really feel the need to do it anymore except to keep his drastically diminished ego in check.

            According to what she’d said in the car on the way home, she was so comfortable with it that she had no real qualms with rubbing her older brother down under lather with a brush and her own two curious hands.

            Scott shivered again, lost in a reverie of horror and anxiety at what was going on in his sister’s head.  He didn’t want to admit it, but he had to: this was no longer simple entertainment for her.  Not completely, anyway.  There was some kind of awakening happening inside her.  Whatever it was, he knew he didn’t want to be a part of it in any way, and at this point, he was willing to resort to any method to escape her presence this night.

            Then it hit him.

            His mother.  Judy was his ticket out of the whole evening.  As much as Scott hated being under anyone’s control, the woman had her limits she stuck to when disciplining and playing with her reduced son.  He had no idea what it was with Maggie lately, but her wily and unpredictable manner was scaring him enough that Judy seemed comparatively like an oasis of safety and predictability.

            At this point, he couldn’t imagine a single one of the responsibilities normally handed to him by Judy that would be worse than what Maggie had in store.  Nail painting.  Foot rubs.  Shoulder massage.  Cleaning the entire damn house from floor to ceiling on a miniature winch.  Hell, she could even tuck him into the bottom of her house slippers, and he’d be grateful for it.  Anything was better than being with Maggie right now.

            He pulled himself to his feet in a panic and took off running down the hallway with newfound resolve in his plan, all the while feeling lower than ever at the thought that insisting his mother take charge of him was the best possible option in his life at this moment.

            “I’m gonna need so many fucking psychiatrists someday,” Scott grumbled under his breath as he ran toward Judy’s home office.