This morning before my brother left, I deliberately hid his favorite white shirt. He's definitely searching for it now, rummaging through everything. That shirt's collar still has his scent on it—I secretly hugged it to sleep last night. I wonder if he'll smell the traces of my own arousal on it when he finds it? Or will he storm into my room in a rage, drag me out of bed, gag me with that shirt, and take me hard from behind until I'm crying and begging for mercy? Just thinking about it gets me so wet it's ridiculous. This might be my most 'accomplished' thing today—making him lose control over me with just a piece of clothing.