Summary: Tuesday and Truman spark retaliations in a vicious cycle of wedgies.
Tuesday X, Annasthesia Montijo, Skipper Swenson, and Kimla Meeks (from left to right):
h-t-t-p : / / i . ytimg . c-o-m / vi / PjUYc2FIeMU / hqdefault . jpg
Remove the spaces and dashes to use the link above.
Image taken from the episode License to Slumber.
Be the judge and let me know if this was any good or not.
Disclaimer: I do not own The X's.
Retaliations
Tuesday X, a green-haired teen currently garbed in her light blue with white spots pajama bottoms and matching short sleeved top that exposed her midriff, tiredly opened her bedroom door that morning, one hand rubbing away the sleep from her eyes as she left her room.
Turning and looking down the hall, her body stiffened and her face went from tired to serious almost instantly as she saw Truman (wearing loose-fitting blue pajama shorts and a matching t-shirt) step out of his own room, her brother having almost the same reaction as he noticed her.
Their eyes narrowed at each other for a moment before shifting over to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Truman, being closer, broke into a sprint towards it.
Tuesday had the advantages of longer legs though, and swiftly caught up to him as she made her own dash. Quickly catching up to him, she bent over and, where his shorts had sagged down a bit, grabbed onto the exposed waistband of his tighty whities.
The redheaded child was yanked back in the middle of his run by the feeling of cotton invading the space between his buttock, chafing his crack as his glutes clenched around the fabric that was stretched straight up to his neck as he was lifted off the ground with his loose-fitting pants falling off in the process. "AAAGGHHH!"
Skidding to a stop in front of the bathroom door, Tuesday dangled the boy by his underwear, taunting, "Oldest gets first dibs, shrimp."
"This isn't ov-OWW!" The boy's attempt at making a threat was cut off as Tuesday bounced him, lengthening his undies a couple more inches before she tossed him backwards and entered the bathroom with a laugh.
Wincing from the pain of his wedgie, Truman watched the bathroom door close shut while digging his briefs out of his crack. As he'd tried to say, this was definitely not over.
In the bathroom, Tuesday spat in the sink as she finished brushing her teeth, rinsing off her toothbrush before putting it back on the holder. Grabbing the bottle of mouthwash, she was unaware of the little metal balls rolling into the room from the gap between the door and the floor.
As she began to rinse out her mouth and gargle, she continued to remain oblivious to them as the small devices as they began to connect and combine, parts merging together to form a sort of helmet with thin arms and claws attached.
And when she dropped her pants to start stripping down for a shower, exposing a light purple pair of granny panties that clung tightly to her, the helmet was finally ready to make its move.
Metal hands pushing on the tiled floor, it jumped up and onto her head of messy/spikey hair and slid a strap under her chin to keep itself on firmly. "What the heck?!" Immediately, she tried to pull the thing off of her head, tugging at it in vain.
As she failed at that, the three metal claws that acted as hands reached down and grabbed ahold of her panties, viciously pulling them straight up her back to her head.
"GAAAAAAHHHHH!" Her knees buckled and her posture slouched heavily as she felt her crack burn. Sowing no mercy, the helmet's strong arms continued wedgieing her with one brutal pull after another, arms alternating back and forth like someone rushing to pull in a line of rope. "Stopstopstop STAAAAAHHHHHHHP!" she begged, screaming and gripping the sink for support to keep standing as her granny panties were stretched-out into a painfully tight thong.
Once her panties were a good nine-and-a-half long, the arms stopped pulling, leaving Tuesday whimpering and her buttocks clenched tight. Their work still not complete though, they took advantage of her state to hastily wrap her undergarments around her arms, pulling them tight.
"GYYYGGHH!" The panties were then knotted like that, locking the wedgie in place while limiting her arm movements. Finishing up their work on her, the helmet's arms reached down to her booty, grabbed it, and tasered it just as she was beginning to squeak from the cold touch. "GYYDRRDED!"
Twitching from the electrocution, she fell over, now half-unconscious.
Dragging her body to the bathroom door, the robot hands opened it and were greeted by a smirking Truman. "Should've listened when I saying it wasn't over, big butt." he said, high-fiving one of the metal hands before it continued dragging his sister out of the bathroom.
20 minutes later, Truman, now finished up getting ready for the day, whistled as he exited the bathroom… annnd was met with the smashed up remains of his helmet hitting him in the face and knocking him over in the hallway. "Oooww…" he groaned, rubbing at his face.
Before he could pick himself up, Tuesday, still missing her pajama bottoms since they were still in the bathroom but now wearing a pair of red granny panties, hauled him off of the floor by the back of his briefs.
"GYEEP!" he squeaked as cotton invaded his buttocks for the second time that day.
Holding him up as he squirmed in his dangling wedgie, she narrowed her eyes and said, "You know, if you were half as smart as you think you are, you'd have seen this coming."
Being his usual defiant self, his response was, "Urgh, what? That you'd be sore about getting those fat buns of yours- GHACK!" She cut him off by flinging him out like a Yoyo, adding about five more inches to his tighty whities before yanking him back in. "GYOOOWWW!"
Momentum pulled him back behind her but not for long.
As if he were a blade on a fan, she spun him circularly around her fist by his underwear. "AAAAAAAAHHHHHOOOOWWWWOOOWWWW!" he screamed as his briefs dug further and further into his butt every second. When she stopped, whipping him outward by his now rope-like underwear, the boy's face was a mask of pain.
Grabbing him by his hair, she then wrapped his underwear his arms first, knotting the fabric tightly to bind them at his sides, and then his legs as well. "There," she said, dropping him onto the ground and heading into the bathroom for her morning shower, "that should keep you from giving me any more trouble."
Wriggling on the ground in his wedgie bindings, Truman began making an awkward crawl back to his room so he could free himself and prepare for revenge.
"Have a nice day at school, kids." Mr. X said, giving his kids (who were now dressed in their normal attire) a smile. "I'll be joining your mother in the combat room's new back-to back course."
"So, just fighting as a team like normal then?" Tuesday asked, not noticing as Truman inched closer to her back.
"Nope." their father replied before explaining, "We will be fighting with our backs literally tied together. The newest Spy Manual says that becoming physically attached to your partners and placed in life threatening situations is becoming an increasingly common occurrence and recommends training for it. So, I thought of this and your mother said it sounded fun."
"Honey!" Mrs. X called from armory, distracting Tuesday and her father enough that Truman was easily able to jump up and drop a metal orb about as big as his fist into Tuesday's backpack without either of them noticing. "Do you remember where I put the new heavy laser?"
"It should be between the old one and your favorite swords!" Mr. X called back while heading over to help her look.
At school Tuesday greeted her friends… Eh, okay, not her friends (except for one of them). They were given $50 to have a sleepover with her once (one that they can barely remember anything from after getting gassed to keep them ignorant about the X's being spies) and now they made it habit to interact with her here and there in case such an offer was going to be made again.
Still better than nothing in Tuesday's opinion.
"Hi, girls." she greeted, putting on a smile.
The first of said girls was Annasthesia Montijo. With short black hair and pale skin, she matched her natural gothic exterior by wearing a black leather skirt coming down to her knees and a black t-shirt that had a skull emblem on the chest. "Hey." she said, tone lacking energy. that was normal for her though.
"Hey, Thursday." Skipper Swenson, a girl with blonde hair flowing down past her past her shoulders and who wore a long-sleeved grass green shirt with a yellow in the center and jeans that were a brighter shade of green, said.
Skipper winced and let out a small 'ow' as she was given a light elbow to the side by Kimla Meeks, an orange-hair girl with freckles and large square glasses and kept her hair in tight buns on both sides of her head. A huge fan of sci-fi, she wore a burgundy dress (designed to resemble a robe) with a yellow collar, V symbol over her left breast, and a tight yellow belt in the middle that helped emphasize the curves of her hips. "Her name's Tuesday, Skipper." And in addition to having a little bit of a gap between her top front teeth, she was also on much better terms with Tuesday than the other two.
"Thanks, Kimla." the green-haired girl said. Before any of them could say more though, the orb in Tuesday's backpack began beeping.
Looking a bit more alert now, Annasthesia began asking, "Does anyone hear a-"
*ZZZZRRRRRR*
Electrical energy, bright and zapping across the girls' clothes while giving them all a brief shock, surged out of Tuesday's backpack. As the girls were zapped and convulsing, all of the clothing they had exposed and visible (pants, skirts, tights, tops, etc.) began turning to ashes.
Kimla was left in her red C cup bra that had a large yellow V on each cup and black panties decorated with little stars and spaceships, her shapely body (normally concealed by the bagginess of her wardrobe) now nice and exposed.
Skipper was now only clothed by the tight yellow thong and matching push up bra on her skinny body.
Annasthesia, meanwhile, now had her black bra and panties exposed, leaving the skulls on her bras' B cups and the random bones decorating her panties nice and visible.
And last but not least, Tuesday once more had her red granny panties exposed and now her matching B cup bra was out in the open as well.
As the energy began dispersing and the shocks stopped (and he girls stopped convulsing) they looked down at their exposed bodies then up at the other students staring at them in the school's main hallway. Their reactions were…
"AAAAAAHHHHH!" shrieking as they attempted to cover themselves, the girls' faces began glowing red as the other students erupted into a chorus of laughter.
As if this weren't enough, the electrical energy that had disintegrated their clothes had latched onto thee elastics of their panties when it had disintegrated their clothes. And its effects on elastic were quite different from what it did to the other fabrics.
Sparking like static, it caused the waistbands to rise up violently, wedgieing all three girls at once. "EEEYYAAHH!" As they hunched over, the sparks of electricity pulled the elastic toward the nearest pieces of decently sized metal.
In this case, the lockers.
"AAAHHHHOOOWWWWW!" they cried out as they were dragged back from the right side of the hallway to the row of lockers against the left side. "GAAAHHHH!" The four of them stuck and unable to move away from their current position, they squirmed and tried to cover themselves.
As the other students laughed, a spy fly belonging to a certain short boy with orange hair and buck teeth recorded the humiliating (and hilarious) ordeal for the boy.
After Tuesday and her friends had gotten free from the lockers, they'd fled to the girls' locker room and changed in to their gym uniforms, tight red shorts stopping a few inches above their knees and grey t-shirts.
While her friends had been baffled and confused as to what happened in the hallway, Tuesday knew exactly what had happened. "I can't believe you!" Which is why, upon getting home, she immediately began chasing her brother.
"You can't prove I did anything!" he shouted back, flipping back away from a grab she attempted and running.
"Don't need to prove anything to punish you though!" Tuesday fiercely pursed him though the living room as the boy leapt onto the couch.
Quickly reaching a hand into the couch cushions, he felt a smirk coming on as his fingers touched a curled around a cylindrical gadget hidden in the piece of furniture. That smirk quickly turned into a grimace though, as his stop gave Tuesday enough time to grab onto the exposed waistband coming of his shorts and lift him off of the couch with a wedgie. "AHHOWWW!"
"Got you now, shrimp."
Still grasping the cylindrical device from the couch, he tapped a button on it. "That's what you think." Grabby little claws popped out of the end of the cylinder and, as Truman shot his arm back and pressed another button, the end bit was launched off on a steel cable like a grappling hook over Tuesday's head.
Arcing over her and going down to where her already stretched a bit from earlier granny panties were sticking out of her gym shorts, the claws on it grabbed her underwear. At the press of another button, the cable began retracting hard and fast, pulling her panties back in the process and painfully wedging them into her crack. "EEEEYYOOWWWW!"
The pull sent Tuesday falling forward, her and Truman landing on the couch. Pinning Truman on the landing, Tuesday pulled hard on his briefs, digging them in tightly. "AAGGHHH! Quit pulling my underwear!" he shouted, pressing down on the retract button for the cable while also just outright tugging on it.
"EEEEEEE!" Tuesday's panties were flossed hard against her crack, chafing it and causing her left eye to briefly twitch. "You quit!"
As the two of them refused to quit and continued yanking on each other's underwear, the television screen turned red as Home Base watched them, the British-sounding artificial intelligence commenting, "How these two are ever able to save the world, I'll never know."