The Weight of My World

Stories about girls getting pantsed, stripped and humiliated by anyone or anything.
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Bronzeorifice
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The Weight of My World

Post by Bronzeorifice »

Chapter One - Chloe

The sun hadn't even fully cleared the horizon when the first strike landed. It was a sharp, stinging crack that resonated through my mattress and vibrated up my spine. I didn't need to open my eyes to know who it was. The heavy, calloused palm of my father, Howard, had found its favorite target once again. My ass, a feature of my twelve-year-old body that seemed to have its own gravitational pull, took the brunt of the blow, the flesh wobbling violently under my thin pajama shorts.

"Rise and shine, Chloe-bear! That's the sound of a brand new day!" Dad’s voice boomed with a cheerfulness that felt like a personal insult at six-thirty in the morning.

I groaned, burying my face into my pillow, my right cheek burning with a mix of sleepiness and the lingering heat of the slap. "Dad, stop it. It’s too early for your nonsense."

"Nonsense? That’s a greeting, kiddo! In this house, we acknowledge greatness when we see it," he chuckled. I heard the floorboards creak as he walked toward the door, but before he could exit, my eighteen-year-old brother, Jessie, sauntered in. He didn't even say hello. He just leaned over and delivered a rhythmic double-tap to my left buttock, the fabric of my shorts snapping against my skin.

“Morning, Fat-ass,” Jessie smirked, his voice cracking with that annoying, frat-boy energy he’d cultivated since starting college. “Seriously, Dad, how do you let her walk around carrying that wagon back there? It’s getting out of hand. She’s skinny everywhere else and then—boom.”
He spread his hands behind him like he was outlining it in the air, as if I needed the visual.

“The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree,” Dad said, leaning against the doorframe. “Your mother was exactly the same when she was twelve. Drove me crazy back in the day.”

"I am right here!" I yelled into my pillow, finally rolling over to glare at them. "Can I please just wake up without my butt being treated like a drum? It’s weird. You guys are weird."

"It’s not weird, Chloe, it’s how we show our love," Dad said, crossing his arms over his chest. He was wearing his 'World's Best Dad' t-shirt, which felt incredibly ironic given the circumstances. "Besides, you’re the one who decided to grow a back porch that could seat a family of four. We’re just working with the materials provided."

"Get out!" I grabbed my stuffed rabbit and hurled it at Jessie’s head. He ducked, laughing as he skipped out of the room, but not before reaching back to give my leg a parting squeeze.

I sat up, huffing, and felt the familiar weight of my rear end as I shifted on the bed. It was true, unfortunately. While most girls my age were still waiting for their bodies to decide what shape they wanted to be, I had been cursed—or blessed, according to the men in my house—with a backside that was undeniably substantial. It was soft, round, and jutted out so far that finding jeans that fit both my waist and my hips was a monthly Odyssey. My mother, Patty, called it the “Miller Curve,” which made no sense considering I got it from her. But apparently logic took a backseat to branding in this family.

I stomped down the stairs to the kitchen, where Mom was flipping pancakes. She looked up and smiled, her own figure reflecting exactly what I was terrified I’d become—curvy, maternal, and seemingly immune to the chaos. As I walked past her to get the orange juice, Dad reached out from his seat at the table and delivered a firm, resounding smack to her backside.

*Thwack.*

Mom didn't even flinch. She just laughed and adjusted the spatula in her hand. "Morning to you too, Howard."

"See?" I pointed a trembling finger at them. "That! That is what I’m talking about! Mom, why do you let him do that? It’s so degrading!"

"Oh, honey, stop overreacting," Mom said, sliding a pancake onto a plate. "It’s just a bit of fun. Your father has been doing that since we were in middle school. Honestly, if he stopped, I’d think he wasn't attracted to me anymore. It’s a compliment."

"It’s a slap, Mom! It hurts!"

"It doesn't hurt that much," Jessie chimed in, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth. "Your butt is like a giant marshmallow, Chloe. It’s built for impact. It’s like a built-in shock absorber."

"I hate you all," I muttered, sliding into my chair.

"Hey, don't be like that," Dad said, reaching over to pat my shoulder—thankfully my shoulder this time. "We’re proud of you. You’re growing up. You’re becoming a beautiful young woman with a... very prominent presence. We’re just celebrating it."

"Celebrate it with words! Or a gift! Not with physical battery!"

The rest of the breakfast was a gauntlet of teasing. Every time I stood up to get something, Jessie or Dad would make a 'beep-beep-beep' backing-up sound, or they’d comment on how the chair groaned in relief when I rose. It was a constant stream of humiliation that they viewed as 'bonding.' I tried to think of ways to stop them. I’d tried wearing thick layers, but that just made the slaps louder. I’d tried sitting against walls, but they’d just wait for me to move. I’d even tried a 'no-slap zone' sign on my door, which Jessie had promptly ripped down and replaced with a 'Slap Entrance' sign.

"You know, Chloe," Jessie said, leaning back with a predatory grin. "We’ve got a big one planned for you. A real graduation ceremony for that caboose of yours."

"Leave me alone, Jessie," I warned, my heart sinking. When Jessie talked about 'big ones,' it usually involved something that would leave me wishing I could crawl into a hole and die.

"Don't worry about it," Dad winked. "Just keep being you. And maybe do some squats. Keep that Miller legacy firm."

The day proceeded with the usual minor indignities. A 'congratulatory' slap when I finished my homework. A 'greeting' slap when I came back from the mailbox. By the time evening rolled around, I was on high alert, my nerves frayed. I decided to take a long, hot shower to wash away the frustration of the day.

I stepped into the bathroom, locking the door—or so I thought. I stripped off my clothes, catching a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror. My breasts were starting to bud, two small, sensitive mounds with pink, peaking nipples that felt tender to the touch. But the real star of the show was my lower half. My hips flared out wide, and when I turned to the side, my ass stood out in a sharp, heavy curve, the pale skin smooth and dimpled slightly at the base. It was a lot of flesh for a twelve-year-old, and I hated how much attention it drew.

I climbed into the shower, letting the steam envelop me. The hot water felt amazing on my sore muscles, and I spent a long time lathering up, the soap bubbles sliding over my skin. I scrubbed my chest, feeling the slickness of the suds on my nipples, and then reached back to wash my rear, my fingers sinking into the soft, yielding fat of my cheeks. I was lost in a daze of warmth when suddenly, the high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek of the smoke alarm tore through the house.

"FIRE! CHLOE, GET OUT! THE KITCHEN IS ON FIRE!" Jessie’s voice screamed from the hallway, followed by the sound of heavy thumping and Dad yelling for everyone to evacuate.

Panic surged through me like an electric shock. My heart hammered against my ribs. I didn't think. I didn't grab a towel. I didn't even grab my robe. The primal instinct to survive took over. I threw open the shower curtain, slipped on the wet floor, scrambled up, and bolted for the bathroom door. I burst into the hallway, my skin dripping wet, my feet slapping against the wood.

"Out! Out! Out!" Dad was standing by the top of the stairs, waving his arms frantically. He didn't even look at me—or so I thought—as he ushered me toward the back door that led to the patio and the backyard.

"Where’s Mom? Where’s Jessie?" I shrieked, my voice cracking.

"They're outside! Go! Go!"

I sprinted through the kitchen, my bare feet skidding on the tile. My budding breasts bounced painfully with every step, and I could feel the heavy weight of my wet ass cheeks jiggling and slapping together as I ran. I burst through the back door and onto the wooden deck, the cool night air hitting my naked skin like a bucket of ice water.

"Mom? Jessie?" I called out, shivering violently. The backyard was empty. The neighborhood was quiet, the streetlights casting long, flickering shadows across the lawn. There was no smoke. There was no smell of burning. There was only the sound of a very familiar, very metallic *click* from the back door.

I spun around, my wet hair plastered to my face. Through the glass of the door, I saw Dad and Jessie standing there, grins plastered across their faces. Jessie was holding the smoke alarm, which he’d clearly just triggered manually.

"GOTCHA!" Jessie yelled through the glass, his face turning red with laughter.

"Dad! Let me in! Open the door!" I pounded on the glass, my naked body trembling. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly mortified. My pale skin was glowing in the moonlight, every curve and crevice of my body visible to the world. My pussy, a small, hairless slit between my thick thighs, felt cold and exposed, the air stinging my sensitive labia.

"Oh, look at that," Dad said, leaning in close to the glass, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "The Miller heirloom in all its glory. Truly a sight to behold, isn't it, Jessie?"

"Majestic," Jessie agreed, wiping a tear from his eye. "I’ve never seen anyone with that much real estate. It’s like a national park back there."
"Let me in right now!" I screamed, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my small breasts, though it did nothing to cover the massive expanse of my hips and ass. "Someone is going to see me! This isn't funny!"

"It’s a little funny, Chloe," Dad said, his voice muffled by the glass but still perfectly clear. "Actually, it’s hilarious. You look like a very angry, very naked peach."

"I am going to kill you both! I’m going to tell Mom! Mom!" I shrieked, hoping she’d hear me from the front of the house.
"Mom’s in on it, kiddo," Jessie laughed. "She’s the one who gave us the key to the bathroom lock. She said you needed to 'lighten up' about your figure. Consider this a celebration of your birthday... six months early."

"I’m freezing! Open the door!"

"We have a deal for you," Dad said, tapping on the glass. "The 'Door Toll.' You know the rules of the house. You want back in? You have to offer up the goods. Twenty slaps, ten from me, ten from Jessie. Free, uninhibited access to that glorious backside. No complaining, no flinching, just pure, unadulterated family bonding."

"Never! I will never do that!" I felt tears of frustration pricking my eyes. "I’ll stay out here all night! I’ll call the police!"
"With what phone?" Jessie teased. "And honestly, do you want the cops to find you like that? 'Officer, please help, I’m naked and my butt is too big for the backyard.'"

I turned away from them, my face burning with a heat that could have actually started a fire. I looked around the backyard, searching for anything to cover myself. The patio furniture was bare. The grill was covered, but the plastic was greasy and disgusting. I tried the side gate, but it was locked from the other side. I was trapped on the deck, a naked, dripping-wet spectacle for anyone who happened to look out their window.

I tried to climb up to the balcony, hoping I could reach my bedroom window. I gripped the wooden railing, my wet skin sticking to the painted surface. I tried to hoist myself up, but my weight was all in the wrong place. As I strained, my ass poked out behind me, two massive globes of pale flesh straining against the gravity of my situation. I lifted my left foot and pressed it against the wall, trying to steady myself. I could hear Dad and Jessie laughing hysterically inside, probably taking pictures with their phones.

“Houston to Chloe the Ass-tronaut!” Jessie yelled. “We’ve got a clear view of Ur-anus… and both its moons!”

I instinctively clenched my butt and dropped back down to the deck, my feet stinging. I was defeated. I was cold. And then, the nightmare got worse.

A rhythmic, scraping sound echoed from the sidewalk beyond the fence—the soft roll of wheels on pavement. My heart stopped. I knew that sound. A skateboard. And in this neighborhood, there was only one person who skated this late at night.

Jeremy.

He was fourteen, a skater with messy blonde hair and a ‘too-cool-for-school’ attitude that had made me lose sleep for the last six months. He lived three houses down, and he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And right now, I was standing naked on the deck, the porch light spilling across the boards, making me perfectly visible from the street through the wide gaps in the old wooden fence.

I froze, pressing my back against the house, trying to disappear into the siding. The sound grew louder. Clack-clack, clack-clack. I held my breath, my heart thumping so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.

He stopped. Right in front of our house.

“Whoa,” I heard a low, mellow voice say.

I peeked around the corner of the house, my eyes wide with horror. Jeremy was standing on the sidewalk, his board tucked under his arm. He wasn’t looking at the fence—he was looking straight through it. At the deck.

At me.

Our eyes met. Time seemed to slow down. I was completely naked, my wet skin glistening under the backyard lights, my small breasts heaving with every panicked breath, my pussy exposed to the night air, and my massive, round ass pressed against the cold wood of the house. I should have screamed. I should have dove behind the grill. I should have died on the spot.

But then, I saw the look on his face.

He wasn't laughing. He wasn't disgusted. He was... impressed. His eyes widened, a slow, lopsided grin spreading across his face. He leaned against the fence, looking me up and down with an intensity that made my knees weak.

"Chloe?" he asked, his voice dripping with surprise and something else—admiration? "Is that you?"

My brain short-circuited. My instinct for self-preservation collided with my desperate need to be cool in front of my crush. If I acted embarrassed, I was a loser. If I acted like this was normal... maybe I was a badass.

"Yeah," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, though my face was probably redder than a fire engine. I stepped away from the wall, letting my arms fall to my sides. I stood there, fully exposed, my chest thrust out, my hips cocked to the side. "What's up, Jeremy?"

Inside, I could hear Dad and Jessie go silent. They were probably pressed against the glass, their jaws on the floor.

"Are you... streaking?" Jeremy asked, a chuckle deep in his throat. "That’s... that’s actually really cool. I didn't know you were like that."

"Like what?" I asked, feeling a strange surge of power. I was naked, yes, but he was looking at me like I was a rockstar. I felt the weight of my ass behind me, and for the first time, I didn't feel ashamed of it. I felt like it was a weapon.

"Like, a rebel," Jeremy said, stepping closer to the fence. "Most girls in this neighborhood are so boring. You're just out here... being free. And damn, Chloe. I didn't realize you were... so well put together."

His eyes drifted down to my hips, lingering on the curve of my thighs and the massive swell of my rear. I felt a thrill of heat shoot through me, a strange, buzzing sensation in my crotch that made me want to squirm.

"I like the air," I lied, leaning back against the railing, purposefully arching my back to make my breasts stand out and my ass jut even further. "Clothing is so... restrictive, don't you think?"

"Totally," Jeremy breathed. "Wow. You're like a total badass. I thought you were just this quiet girl, but you're out here flashing the whole neighborhood."

"Not the whole neighborhood," I purred, emboldened by his reaction. "Just whoever’s lucky enough to be passing by."
I decided to lean into the insanity. If I was going to be humiliated, I was going to do it on my own terms. I turned around, giving him a full view of my backside. I looked over my shoulder at him, smirking.

"See something you like, Jeremy?"

"I see a lot I like," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Seriously, Chloe. That's... that's legendary. I've never seen anything like it."
I felt a surge of adrenaline. I wanted to impress him. I wanted to show him just how 'cool' I could be. I remembered a video Jessie had shown me once—a 'twerk' video—and though I’d never tried it, I felt like my body was built for it. I planted my feet, bent my knees slightly, and shifted my weight.

I shook my hips.

The reaction was instantaneous. My ass didn't just move; it undulated. The massive mounds of flesh jiggled and swayed, the soft skin rippling with every movement. I went faster, my cheeks slapping together with a wet, rhythmic sound.

*Clap. Clap. Clap.*

I was making my ass clap. In front of my crush. While naked.

Jeremy’s jaw literally dropped. "No way... you can make it clap? That is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! You’re a natural, Chloe!"
I was mortified. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to stop, to hide, to cry. But the look of pure, unadulterated awe on Jeremy’s face kept me going. I gave it one final, vigorous shake, my rear end vibrating like a bowl of jelly, before I stood back up and faced him, my heart racing.

"Just a little trick I picked up," I said, trying to catch my breath.

"You're amazing," Jeremy said, shaking his head. "I gotta go, I told my mom I'd be back ten minutes ago. But hey... we should hang out. For real. You're way cooler than I thought. What’s your number?"

“Sure,” I said, rattling off my number. “See you around, Jeremy.” I waved, watching him jump back on his board and skate away into the night.

As soon as he was out of sight, the reality of what I’d just done crashed down on me. I had just flashed my crush. I had made my naked ass clap for an older skater boy. I had reached a level of humiliation that shouldn't even be possible.

I turned back to the door. Dad and Jessie were no longer laughing. They were staring at me through the glass with expressions of pure, unmitigated shock.

"What... was... that?" Jessie asked, his voice a whisper.

"That," I said, my voice trembling with the onset of a massive emotional breakdown, "was me being cool. Now let me in."

"The deal still stands, Chloe," Dad said, though his voice lacked some of its earlier bravado. "Twenty slaps. You want the door open, you gotta pay the toll."

I stood there for a long moment. I was shivering, I was exhausted, and I was so deeply embarrassed that I didn't think I could ever look anyone in the eye again. But Jeremy thought I was a badass. Jeremy wanted to hang out. If I could survive making my ass clap for him, I could survive a few slaps from my idiot family.

I took a deep breath, my chest heaving. My skin was cold, but my face was on fire. I walked over to the door, turned my back to it, and bent over. I gripped my ankles, thrusting my massive, well-endowed rear end toward the glass, my cheeks spreading slightly as I braced myself.

"Do it," I hissed. "Just do it and let me in."

Dad opened the door just enough for him and Jessie to reach out. They didn't even hesitate.

*WHACK!*

Dad’s first slap landed square on my right cheek. It was harder than usual, a real stinging blow that made me let out a sharp gasp. The flesh buckled and shook, the vibration traveling all the way through my pelvis.

*WHACK!*

Jessie followed up on the left side, his palm hitting with a wet, heavy thud.

"One! Two!" Jessie counted, his voice returning to its usual mocking tone.

They began a rhythmic assault on my exposed behind. *Whack-thwack-whack-thwack.* My ass was turning a bright, angry red, the heat from the slaps radiating through my entire body. Every strike made my cheeks jiggle and bounce, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing through the quiet backyard.

"Three! Four! Five! Six!"

I bit my lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a scream. The humiliation was physical now, a stinging, burning reminder of the 'Miller legacy.' I could feel the individual imprints of their fingers on my skin. My pussy felt swollen and sensitive, the vibrations from the slaps sending strange, unwanted tingles through my clitoris.

"Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten!"

Dad was laughing now, his slaps becoming more of a rhythmic patting, as if he were playing a drum. "Look at that thing go! It’s like a mountain of gelatin! You’re a champ, Chloe! A real Miller lady!"

"Eleven! Twelve! Thirteen! Fourteen!" Jessie was going for speed now, his hands blurred as he delivered a flurry of stinging slaps to my lower cheeks, right where they met my thighs. "Is it getting bigger? I swear it’s swelling! It’s taking over the deck!"

I felt my resolve crumbling. I was shaking, the combination of the cold air and the physical assault making me feel lightheaded. My ass was a throbbing, pulsing mass of heat.

"Fifteen! Sixteen! Seventeen! Eighteen!"

"Almost there, kiddo!" Dad cheered.

"Nineteen! TWENTY!"

The final slap was a double-handed strike, one from each of them, landing simultaneously on each cheek. The impact was so great it nearly knocked me forward. My ass felt like it had been set on fire. It was bright crimson, the skin stretched tight and humming with pain and arousal that I desperately tried to ignore.

They pulled their hands back, and Dad swung the door fully open.

"Toll paid," he said, stepping aside with a mock bow.

I scrambled inside, my legs feeling like jelly. I didn't even look at them. I sprinted past them, my red, throbbing ass cheeks slapping together with every step, and headed straight for the stairs.

"Hey, Chloe!" Jessie yelled after me. "Don't forget to practice that clapping thing! Jeremy seemed to really dig it!"

I slammed my bedroom door shut, put on my pajamas, and threw myself onto my bed, burying my face in the covers. My ass was burning, a constant, heavy reminder of the last hour. I felt the heat of it against my sheets, a rhythmic pulsing that wouldn't go away.

I was a mess. I was a twelve-year-old girl with a body that seemed to belong to someone else, a family that treated me like a comedy act, and a crush who thought I was a naked, ass-clapping rebel.

I rolled over, looking at the ceiling. My hand drifted down, tracing the curve of my hip and sliding over the heated, tender skin of my buttock. It was soft, so incredibly soft. I squeezed a handful of the flesh, feeling it squish between my fingers.

Maybe Mom was right. Maybe it was just a Miller thing.

I thought about Jeremy’s face. I thought about the way he’d looked at me—not as a kid, but as something... more.

I sighed, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Tomorrow morning, Dad would probably wake me up with another slap. Jessie would probably make another joke about my size. But for now, the 'Door Toll' was paid, the fire drill was over, and I had a date with a skater boy who thought my big butt was the coolest thing in the world.

I closed my eyes, the stinging of my cheeks finally fading into a dull, warm hum as I drifted off to sleep, the Miller legacy firmly intact.
***

The following morning, the sun was barely up when the door creaked open. I didn't even wait for the strike. I rolled over on my stomach, pulled my pajama shorts down to reveal my bare ass, and looked over my shoulder, impatiently.

"If you're going to do it," I said, my voice thick with sleep but firm, "at least make it a good one."

Dad stood in the doorway, his hand raised, a look of pure, bewildered pride on his face. He didn't say a word. He just delivered a single, thunderous *thwack* that echoed through the entire house, making my whole body vibrate.

"That's my girl," he whispered, before closing the door and leaving me to face the day.

I flopped back onto the mattress, my ass singing with the familiar sting. It was going to be a long life, I realized. But as long as I had the Miller Curve, at least it would never be boring. I reached for my phone, seeing a notification from Jeremy.

*Yo, Chloe. You still up for that skate? Bring the rebel energy.*

I bit my lip, my heart doing a little dance. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, catching the glint of my red, well-slapped cheeks.

"Rebel energy," I whispered. "I can do that."

I got out of bed, the weight of my backside swaying behind me. I didn't try to hide it. I didn't try to shrink. I just walked, the rhythmic *thump-thump* of my footsteps a testament to the fact that, in this house, greatness was always just one slap away.

Downstairs, I heard Jessie yelling about breakfast and Mom laughing. Then came the sound of another slap, this time on Mom, and the general chaos of the Miller household. I took a deep breath, pulled my shorts up to partially reveal the bottom of my butt, and headed down to join them. I was a girl with a massive ass, a crazy family, and a bright future. And if anyone had a problem with it, they could take it up with the “Miller Curve.”
As I entered the kitchen, Jessie looked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. He reached out his hand, but I beat him to it. I turned around, presenting my butt to him, and delivered a quick, sharp shake of my hips that made my cheeks clap once, loud and clear.

The look of utter shock on his face was pretty funny—he’d been completely caught off guard by my lack of rejection. He slapped my left cheek, but with noticeably less power behind it. He must’ve liked it better when I was embarrassed.

But that was the old me.

I’m Chloe Miller, and I’m finally learning how to handle the weight of my world.
Last edited by Bronzeorifice on Fri Apr 10, 2026 12:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Bronzeorifice
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Re: The Weight of My World

Post by Bronzeorifice »

Chapter Two - Ellie

The gravel in the Miller driveway crunched under my bike tires, but the sound was swallowed by the bass thumping through the front windows. I’d been to Chloe’s place a thousand times, but today felt different. Ever since she started hanging out with Jeremy, something had shifted. Chloe wasn’t as restrained anymore. She’d somehow become one of the cool kids. I told myself it didn’t matter. Still, I couldn’t ignore the flicker of jealousy curling in my chest.

I adjusted the straps of my backpack, feeling the weight of my overnight gear and walked up to their house.

I barely had my foot on the porch before the front door swung open.

"Ellie! The second-in-command has arrived!"

Mr. Miller, Chloe’s dad, stood there in a grease-stained apron, looking like he’d just stepped away from a grill. Before I could even mutter a greeting, he moved with the practiced speed of a professional athlete. He stepped past me, his large, calloused hand whistling through the air.

*CRACK.*

The sound was like a whip snapping in a canyon. My entire left buttock vibrated, the flesh oscillating under my denim shorts. The force nearly sent me stumbling.

"Whoa! Mr. Miller!" I gasped, my face instantly turning the color of a ripe tomato. My rear end hummed with a stinging heat that radiated down my thighs.

"Don't 'whoa' me, kiddo," Mr. Miller laughed, his voice booming. "In this house, we acknowledge the assets. You’ve been putting in work, Ellie. That’s a solid B-plus on the Miller Scale. Welcome."

"Dad, stop traumatizing her!" Chloe’s voice drifted down from the top of the stairs.

I looked up to see her leaning over the banister. She was wearing a tiny pair of athletic shorts that struggled to contain the sheer volume of her rear. Her "Miller Curve" as she once told me, was still big as ever compared to the rest of her. Two massive globes of gravity-defying flesh, which would even draw the envy of grown women.

"It’s not trauma, it’s a greeting," Jessie, her brother, sauntered out of the kitchen, a protein shake in one hand. He didn't even look me in the eye. He just walked behind me and delivered a slap to my rear, the fabric of my shorts snapping against my skin. "Welcome back, Plump-Ass Ellie. You're looking almost as gifted as my sister."

" Seriously?" I muttered, rubbing my sore cheek. I’ve been friends with Chloe for a long while, so I’m well familiar with her family’s strange custom. Yet, I’m still not used to it. "Do you guys just spend all day doing this?"

"It’s a gift, Ellie. Don't fight the blessing," Jessie smirked, taking a long pull of his shake.

Chloe trotted down the stairs, her backside performing a mesmerizing, heavy dance with every step. She grabbed my arm and started hauling me upward. "Ignore them. They’ve been bored ever since I started embracing their antics.”

"Embracing it?" I asked, stumbling after her.

"Just get in the room before Dad decides you need a 'goodnight' slap at four in the afternoon," Chloe warned.

We burst into her bedroom, and she slammed the door, locking it with a decisive *click*. The room smelled like vanilla and the lingering scent of the lavender lotion Chloe loved to use.

“So,” I said, dropping my bag and flopping onto her bed. The mattress groaned. “The rumor is true? You and Jeremy are a thing now? Tell me how you got with him.”

Chloe blushed, her face a mix of embarrassment and a strange, new pride. “Well… I sort of twerked for him.”

“You what?” I asked, shocked. “Twerk? Like that butt-shaking thing?”

Chloe nodded. “I… was also naked when I did it.”

I wondered if I’d misheard her. The lack of a response from me, and my flabbergasted expression must have been more than enough for her to answer the many questions forming in my brain. She told me everything: the fire alarm prank, being locked outside, and the “entry” toll.

“So you just started offering your butt to them?” I asked, immediately realizing how lewd that sounded.

“Yep,” Chloe replied.

I took a moment to process the information before rubbing my still-throbbing butt. “Is it always that loud?”

"The louder the slap, the deeper the love," Chloe sighed, flopping down next to me. "It’s the Miller way. But hey, at least Jeremy keeps texting me. He asked if I was going to 'perform' again this weekend."

"Perform? Like, twerk for him again?" I asked.

"Exactly," Chloe whispered, her eyes wide. "Ellie, I’ve never felt so exposed and so... powerful. It’s weird. Being naked in the backyard was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but now? I feel like I’m carrying around two secret weapons."

"I wish I had your confidence," I admitted, looking down at my own lap. "My mom just tells me to wear long shirts so I don't 'distract the neighbors'."

"Screw that," Chloe said, sitting up suddenly. "Tonight is a sleepover. No long shirts. No hiding. We’re going to embrace that butt."
The door rattled. *Thump-thump-thump.*

"Girls! Dinner! And bring your appetites, we're having 'Double-Cheek' Burgers!" Mr Miller’s voice roared through the wood.

"We’re coming, Dad!" Chloe yelled back. She looked at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Best prepare you cheeks."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nope," Chloe said.

We headed downstairs. The kitchen was a hive of activity. Mrs. Miller, Chloe’s mom, was calmly plating burgers while Mr. Miller and Jessie sat at the table like two lions waiting for a kill. As I walked past Mrs. Miller, she reached out and gave my rear a gentle, motherly pat—a soft contrast to the violence of the men.

"You've filled out, Ellie," she said, her voice smooth and nonchalant. "The boys are going to have a field day with you two tonight."

"What does that mean?" I asked, sliding into my chair.

"It means Game Night," Jessie said, leaning forward with a predatory grin. "And tonight, the stakes are a little higher than usual."

"Let me guess… It’s butt-related?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Who knows?" Mr. Miller said, biting into a burger. "We’re playing 'The Miller Gauntlet.' A series of challenges. If you win, you get to pick the movie and we do the dishes for a week. If we win..."

"If you win?" Chloe prompted.

"If we win, you two have to provide the 'Half-Time Show'," Jessie laughed. "Fully bottomless. All butts and all the glory. No hiding behind your shorts or hands."

"Howard! Jessie!" Patty chided, though she was smiling. "Don't scare them. It’s just a little fun."

"Mom, they want to see us naked!" Chloe shrieked.

"Half-naked,” Patty corrected, flipping a pancake for dessert. “And besides, it’s good for your self-esteem. You have beautiful bodies. Why be ashamed of them in your own home?"

The logic was insane. It was warped. It was purely Miller. But as I looked at the burgers and then at Chloe, who was already nodding slowly, I felt a strange pull. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the desire to be a "badass" like Jeremy thought Chloe was.

"Fine," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "We’re in."

The game was a chaotic blend of trivia, physical challenges, and luck. We had to do squats while reciting the preamble to the Constitution (a Miller favorite, apparently, to watch the "oscillation"). We had to balance spoons on our noses while the boys threw crumpled napkins at our hips.

By nine o'clock, the score was tied.

"Final challenge," Mr. Miller announced, standing up and clearing the table. "The 'Blind Impact' test. Chloe, Ellie, you stand at the end of the hall, backs to the kitchen. Jessie and I will deliver one slap each. You have to guess who slapped who, and the exact 'Sting-Value' on a scale of one to ten."

"That’s impossible!" I cried.

"It’s about connection, Ellie," Mr. Miller said, his eyes twinkling. "If you lose, the 'Half-Time Show' begins immediately."

We took our positions. I stood next to Chloe, the cool air of the hallway hitting my legs. I was wearing my denim shorts—faded, cut high, and hugging every curve like they had something to prove. My heart was racing so hard I could hear it in my ears.

"Ready?" Jessie’s voice came from behind us.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt the air shift.

*WHACK-THWACK!*

The strikes were simultaneous. One on my right cheek, one on Chloe’s left. The impact was monumental. My rear end felt like it had been struck by a hot iron. The vibration traveled up my spine, making my teeth rattle. It was a solid, heavy-handed blow that left my skin humming.

"Uh... Dad on me, Jessie on Ellie?" Chloe guessed, her voice squeaky. "And the sting was an eight?"

I winced. "I think... Jessie on me, Mr. Miller on Chloe. Sting was a nine."

"WRONG!" Jessie cheered, dancing a little jig. "I hit both of you! Double-handed cross-fire! I’m the master!"

"Which means," Mr. Miller said, his voice dropping into a mock-serious tone, "the toll is due. To the living room, young ladies. The lighting is much better there."

Panic and a strange, buzzing excitement flooded my system. Chloe looked at me, her face flushed crimson. "We lost, Ellie. We have to do it. The Miller code is absolute."

We marched into the living room. Mr Miller and Jessie sat on the center couch, looking like judges at a very strange pageant. Patty sat in the corner, sipping tea, looking entirely too bored.

"Alright," Mr. Miller said, gesturing to the center of the rug. "Standard protocol. First, the 'Shedding of the Shells'."

My hands shook as I reached for the waistband of my shorts. I looked at Chloe. She was already sliding hers down, her massive, pale hips emerging from the fabric like a rising moon. I followed suit, stepping out of my denim shorts and then my pink underwear.

Standing there, completely naked from the waist down, felt like standing in the middle of a crowded street. The air was cold on my pussy, the sensitive, hairless skin of my vulva tightening in response to the chill. I felt my cheeks burning with shame, but as I looked at Mr. Miller and Jessie, I didn't see mockery. I saw... awe.

"Incredible," Jessie breathed. "The 'Ellie Arc' is coming along nicely. But Chloe... damn, sis. You’re a structural marvel."

"Arms down, Ellie," Mr. Miller said firmly. "Be proud. You’re a woman grown. Let’s see it all."

I dropped my arms. I stood there, fully bottomless, my chest heaving, my stomach flat, and my hips flared wide. Beside me, Chloe was a vision of excess. She was a masterpiece of soft, dimpled flesh from the waist down.

"Now," Jessie said, his voice thick with anticipation. "The 'Full Moon Review'. Turn around."

We turned. I felt the weight of my ass behind me, the two cheeks hanging heavy. I knew they were looking at the space between my thighs, at the pale, smooth skin of my rear.

"Bend over," Mr. Miller commanded. "Let’s see the Miller Wink."

I froze. "The... what?"

"Dad, do we have to?" Chloe whispered, her voice trembling.

“You lost, Honey. Remember?” Mr. Miller said.

Chloe moved first. She bent down low by the waist and gripped her asscheeks, thrusting her massive rear end toward her father and brother. She spread her cheeks wide, revealing the deep, dark crevice of her crack and the tight, puckered rose-bud of her butthole. It was a sight of such raw, uninhibited exposure that I felt my knees go weak.

"That's it, Chloe-bear," Mr. Miller said, leaning in. "Now... give it a wink."

Chloe took a breath, and I watched in stunned silence as the muscles of her rear contracted. Her butthole tightened and then relaxed, a slow, rhythmic 'wink' that seemed to fascinate the men.

"Your turn, Ellie," Jessie said, his eyes fixed on me. "Don't be shy. We’ve got all night."

I felt a surge of heat in my crotch, a strange, wet sensation that I couldn't ignore. I mimicked Chloe and bent over, my fingers grabbing a handful of my buttcheeks. I spread my butt wide, the cool air hitting the most private parts of my body. I felt the gaze of the Miller men on my puckered hole, a sensation of pure, unadulterated humiliation that was somehow... thrilling.

I squeezed my glutes, feeling my own 'wink' respond.

"Perfect," Mr. Miller said, the sound of his palm hitting his own thigh echoing in the room. "A synchronized performance. Truly gifted young ladies."

"Now, the 'Grand Finale'," Jessie said, standing up. "The 'Double-Clap'. We want to hear the music of the spheres."

I knew what he wanted. He wanted the jiggle. He wanted the sound of our naked flesh colliding.

Chloe and I looked at each other. The embarrassment had reached its peak, and on the other side of that mountain was a strange, frantic freedom. We both planted our feet, bent our knees, and began to shake.

*Clap. Clap. Clap-clap-clap.*

The sound was wet and rhythmic. My smaller, firmer cheeks hit each other with a sharp, staccato sound, while Chloe’s massive rear created a heavy, thumping bass line. We were two half-naked twelve-year-old girls, performing a 'butt-concert' for a father and son.

"ENCORE!" Mr. Miller cheered, clapping his hands.

We shook until our muscles ached, our bodies glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. My ass bounced wildly, my heart beating rapidly with every movement, and my pussy felt swollen and heavy, the friction of my thighs creating a heat that made my head spin.

Finally, we stopped, gasping for breath, our faces red with embarrassment.

"Toll paid in full," Mr. Miller said, standing up and giving us a mock bow. "You two are legends. Now, go get your robes. The popcorn is ready, and we’re watching Leon Wick 5. I heard the child actress in this movie has multiple embarrassing nude scenes."

We scrambled to grab our shorts, my heart still racing. As we headed back upstairs to change, I felt a strange sense of belonging. I looked at Chloe, who was already smirking at me.

"So," she whispered. "Still think my family is weird?"

"They're insane," I said, sliding my underwear back on, the fabric feeling strangely restrictive after the freedom of the sunroom. "But... I think I might be a little insane too."

"Yeah… insane," Chloe said, hesitating a bit as she put on her underwear.

“Hey, Ellie? I just had a crazy thought,” she said.

After a few minutes later, we were both standing at the top of the stairs. We could hear Chloe’s dad and the rest talking down below.

Chloe straightened up, her ass cheeks slapping back together with a soft smack. She cupped her developing boobs absentmindedly. As if to check if they were bare.

“You ready?” Her voice playful but I saw the pink in her cheeks, the way her thighs pressed together to shield her smooth-shaven vagina.

I stood by her, my hands itching to cover myself. My chest felt heavier now, fully exposed, nipples stiff and begging for attention I didn't want to give. And between my legs, my bare pussy lips rubbed together as I shifted, the slit already a little slick from the weird mix of shame and adrenaline.

“Y-yea,” I muttered, trying to sound braver than I felt. “We’re only doing this because we lost right? We’re not weird or anything?”

“For sure. This is because we lost. This is punishment,” Chloe grinned. “There’s no way we’d do this willingly.”

There we were, two girls bullshitting ourselves to do something perverted. Chloe linked her arm with mine, our naked bodies brushing side by side as we headed down the stairs. Her skin was warm against my cool one, her boob pressing into my arm with each step. Going down the stairs naked was a thrill—every riser made my ass cheeks bounce, the soft flesh quivering like jelly. I could feel the air rushing up between my legs, teasing my exposed mound with every descent. Chloe wasn't faring better; her huge rear swayed dramatically, the cheeks parting slightly with each footfall, producing soft claps.

“God, I can feel everything,” I whispered, my voice a mix of whine and laugh. “My nipples are pointing like crazy, and my pussy... it's just out there.”

Chloe snorted, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Tell me about it. Mine's practically waving hello. And don't get me started on the ass jiggle—feels like I'm carrying two water balloons back there.”

We reached the bottom, and walked into the living room: dim lights, the TV screen flickering as Jessie scrolled through Disney+ to find the movie. They were all talking about. Their conversation hushed as we stepped in, all eyes snapping to the two fully nude girls.

Mr. Miller’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, aren’t you two the cutest things ever.” He commented.

Jessie let out a low whistle, not leering exactly, but definitely appreciating. “I’m definitely taking a pic of this.”

With that he took out his phone, ready to take a quick snap of us. But he was interrupted by Mr. Miller.

“Hold on just a sec, Jessie. I wanna be in this!”

He came between us and went on one knee so that both of our bare chests were eye level with his face.

“Say Cheeks!” Jessie said.

“CHEEEKS!” Mr. Miller shouted, grinning like he owned the moment. Without hesitation, he grabbed a full handful of ass, mine in his left hand and Chloe’s in his right, yanking us both tight against him.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like I might actually lose control right there. Chloe looked just as wrecked, like she was barely holding it together. We both forced these shy, nervous smiles, trying to play it cool while turning toward Jessie’s camera.

*Snap*
jojo12026
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Re: The Weight of My World

Post by jojo12026 »

Wow! Love that Chloe found the power of her mudity and got her friend to join in. I wonder how long until Chloe is always naked at home and maybe other places (skateboard park). Hope this continues.
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