He Came He Saw

Pete knew he was in trouble. Though he really did not know Samantha all that well, what he did know of her left no doubt being caught jerking off in her panties would entail some kind of punishment. His past indiscretion against her brought on a stormy night visit filled with humiliation, spanking, and a thrashing hand job. He knew enough of her to know she was capable of just about anything.

"I - I - I'm so sorry Samantha. I thought you were..."

"Rebecca?" Samantha interrupted him. "Looking at you now I can only assume you two have made up and made out, am I right?" she asked with a cheshire grin as she watched Pete fumble taking off her underwear.

"Um, y-yes, please, I really am sorry for this," Pete replied blushing heavily, covering himself, and unsure whether to hand Samantha back her underwear or return it to the drawer he snatched it from.

Samantha grabbed her panties and returned them to the drawer herself. Pete just stood there anxious and naked wondering what she was going to do to him. There was a sudden coolness to her demeanor and yet that grin lie beneath the surface leading Pete to imagine some wicked concoction brewing in her head. She asked him to dress if he liked, but to have a seat in the small lounge area of the dorm room. Pete scrambled to put on his blue boxer briefs, sat on the love seat sweating in anticipation, and stared blankly at the saturday morning cartoons on the television.

Samantha sauntered over joining Pete, as ever the curvaceous sexy beast he thought her to be. He still marvelled at how much she resembled Tiffany Amber Thiesen. "Uncanny!" he thought to himself. Her black bob style haircut had grown a little longer and now had a few red streaks in it. Otherwise, she hadn't changed much since he saw her last. He thought her dress very cosmopolitan consisting of a black blouse, red scarf, wool skirt, and knee high black leather boots. Her baby powder and roses smelling perfume helped settle Pete's nerves a little, but not nearly as much as her hand gently stroking his thigh, her head propped up on her elbow, and a sudden warmness to her demeanor.

"Aren't situations best when they're win - win, Pete?" Samantha asked in a soft voice. Pete hesitated a nod, still ill at ease, feeling like he was in some kind of lion's den. "I want to proposition you," Samantha continued, her hand crawling further up his thigh. "You see, ever since that day you walked in on Rebecca and myself and we had our little exchange we've been talking about you. Rebecca felt like she needed to have a personal one-on-one confessional with you and, believe it or not, I was the one who suggested she ask you to make her the woman she felt she needed to be. She no doubt told you we're both bisexual. We also both find you terribly cute, not to mention well endowed," she said with a mischievous giggle bringing her hand up to within inches of Pete's hard on.

"I know you have a girlfriend, Katrina, and from what I've heard of her I think you ought to feel very lucky to be with her. However," Samantha interposed herself, shifting in her seat, and coquettishly staring up towards the ceiling, "here's the always sticky - ethical part of the deal, if you'd like to be our little boy toy, you know, a little swingin' something on the side for kicks, a secret tryst maybe, hmmm? Rebecca and I have just been talking about adding a little spice to the bedroom and your name always seems to surface. At first as a joke, but then ever more seriously," Samantha continued staring Pete in the eye, her hand now firmly grasping his cock. Pete started to form an answer, but Samantha cut him short. "You needn't worry about saying no. There will be no hard feelings. The option is yours," she reassured him.

"A boy toy?" Pete asked not ready to say yes, unsure about what he might be getting himself into, and removing Samantha's hand from his penis.

"Hold the phone! Didn't you put my step-mom's panties on my head and make sure the picture of my girlfriend was staring back at me that night to teach me a lesson about taking responsibility for my actions. A responsibility that I have towards others that care for me and that I care for, showing me that my actions are never really wholly my own and have unforeseen consequences that can never be predicted?" Pete asked now confused.

Samantha did not respond right away. "Oh gosh no, I was just fucking with your head. Though I must say that's a very mature conclusion, I'm impressed. Like I said, there's always an ethical side to these sorts of affairs. Remember, this is a proposition for physical love and not romantic love. I'm sure you understand the difference between the two. So do you wanna be our little boy toy or what?" she asked with her eyebrows raised and her nose in the air.

Pete thought he understood the difference between physical and romantic love. He understood what he and his step-sister experienced the night before extended beyond mere physical love. He had undoubtedly found himself in a sticky situation. His brain told him to decline, but his hormones screamed to go for it. He knew he would never have another opportunity like the one being offered. He knew it was doing wrong by Katrina, but right by Rebecca.

"Well? I'm waiting," Samantha reminded him. "Are you in?"

"Fuck yes!" growled Pete lunging in at her ample bosom, but Samantha pushed him away.

"Oh no, don't think I've forgotten about your punishment," chided Samantha. "Mens rea, that's Latin for criminal intent and is meant to measure blame. Actus reus is Latin for the physical component of the crime. Together they form the indictable offence I'm charging you with."

"Mea culpa," Pete replied with a smirk and shrug of his shoulders.

"Clever boy, now get down on your hands and knees and crawl over to my bed. I will be acting as your judge, jury, and executioner."

Pete did as ordered more than willing to play along. As he crawled over to her side of the dorm room Samantha followed behind him, digging her heels in the crack of his ass, pushing him forward. She demanded he stand, remove his underwear, and not move an inch. She removed her own clothing revealing a sheer black mesh bustier with gartered black stockings and black silk bikini style panties. She kept her black leather boots on, but removed the panties by detaching the hip straps. Pete peered at the sublime figure before him. His cock throbbed and ached as his eyes traced Samantha's curves. There again were the large conical breasts, the flaring feminine hips, and the bubble butt he remembered so well. And all of it on the creamiest skin he'd ever seen. There too was the "V" of pubic hair pointing down to pouty pussy lips and a pierced clitoris. He had forgotten about the phoenix tattoo below her navel and the rose on the small of her back. He licked his lips watching her fetch something from a drawer. She took out a pair of black satin gloves that made there way up to her elbows.

Pete began stroking himself and told Samantha she looked delicious. Samantha turned on her heels, furious.

"How dare you speak without permission!" she chastised him.

"We'll fix that right away," she continued and made her way to the bathroom. She returned holding a pair of white cotton panties in her hands. Sniffing the panties she confirmed they were Rebecca's.

"Now open wide," Samantha commanded, gagging Pete with his step-sister's underwear. She picked up the pair of black bikinis she had just removed and stuffed them in Pete's mouth as well. Samantha chuckled as she looked onto Pete with his cheeks puffed up full of panties and eyes wide open. She immediately corrected her break of character scolding her captive saying how naughty boys like him ought to be seen and not heard. Samantha then rummaged through her bottom drawer and pulled out a ping pong paddle. She slapped her gloved hand with the paddle and nodded, mischief on her face. Pete instantly understood what was coming to him and gave her a look of playful dread.

Samantha sat on her bed gesturing Pete to assume the position over her lap. With his head hung, Pete bent himself over his captor's lap making sure to stick his butt up in the air. He deliberately slipped his penis in between her thighs. He knew it was going to sting, but he wanted to get kinky and play the game as much as he wanted to please Samantha. His rock hard erection leaking precum did nothing to betray the sentiment.

Before Samantha began administering the punishment she paused and gently rubbed Pete's ass cheeks pronouncing, "You are my captive and I your captor. It is my duty to deliver your punishment. There will be three punishments in store for your sorry ass this morning since, I believe, you committed three separate crimes. I will not tell you what three punishments lie in store for you though I can see you've obviously figured out what the first will be. As for the crimes themselves you're first charged with the invasion my personnel property. Secondly, you're charged with the theft from the personnel property you invaded, namely, my panties. Finally, the last transgression you're charged with this morning has to do with violating the panties you defiled as you masturbated in them. Also, it should be noted, you took my red ruffles. Nobody touches my red ruffles - NOBODY!" Samantha yelled with austere severity as she gave Pete his first wallop.

Pete jerked forward from the pain, his cry muffled by the panties, his cock thrusting between Samantha's thighs. "Daaaaamn!" He shouted in his head with the sheets clutched in his hands. The sound of rubber slapping flesh reverberated throughout the room. Pete's ass began glowing red and his body began to sweat. His captor ceaselessly scolded what a bad bad boy he was. Once in a while Samantha would gently rub his buttocks with her satin gloves relieving him of the agony only to continue smacking him harder than before. Several minutes into the punishment he perked his ass up even higher in the air as if to ask for more. Samantha looked over at her captive to see him looking back with defiance in his eyes. She resumed her ministrations with renewed fervour, beating Pete's bottom mercilessly. Deciding it was time to take the punishment up a notch, Samantha grabbed Pete's nutsack from between his legs, tugging it, making his balls balloon in her hand. Now every time Pete lunged forward his balls stretched abnormally causing him to wince and whimper.

Pete knew he had had enough. "O.k., she's got the bull by the horns, don't she?" he thought to himself. He shook his head and tapped the mattress trying to yell through the panties and make his captor stop. Samantha ceased her spanking and released his scrotum.

Pulling the soggy underwear from Pete's mouth Samantha simply asked, "Enough?" Pete slowly nodded, panting, wiping the sweat from his brow, and rubbing his swollen ass. She tossed his hand out of the way and gave him four final and brutal butt-busting blows. Without the panty gag Pete hollered out loud. The television had never been shut off and as Pete stood he heard a mutant turtle exclaim, "Cowabunga Dude!"

"Well that's too bad because that was only part one. I'll teach you to cross me yet you naughty little bastard. Now lie on your back and believe me, part two will make you wish you had never found my red ruffles," Samantha scorned. Pete did as ordered, but had difficulty lying there on his backside with his ass so terribly red and sore. Samantha rummaged through her bottom drawer once again only now she turned around holding what looked like a leather collar and a pair of leather handcuffs. "What the hell are these two into?" Pete wondered to himself.

"Scooch down a little so I can tie you up to the bedpost nice and tight," Samantha ordered. She made sure Pete was well positioned and handcuffed his outstretched arms to her bedpost. After making sure the binding was tight and secure she collared her captive and tied his leash to the handcuffs without an inch of slack. Pete felt as though he were on some sort of medieval rack. He tried to block the thought from his mind by staring at a Georgia O'Keefe painting by Samantha's bed when all of a sudden everything went dark.

Pete couldn't breathe. He couldn't see or hear anything either. His struggle for air ended when Samantha lifted her crotch and streaks of sunlight from the bay window above her bed illuminated her damp pussy and butt crack. Trying to catch his breath, pussy permeated everything. The smell of it filled his nostrils. The taste of it glazed his lips. He thought he heard his captor cackle when stultifying darkness fell again. Her juicy thighs constricted around his head blocking all sight, sound, and air. When Samantha lifted nearly a whole minute later Pete laboured a, "What the fuck are you doing to me?" To which Samantha simply replied, "I'm smothering you, you silly twit!"

Samantha loosed her breasts from the bustier's cups. Tweaking her nipples, she began gyrating her hips, grinding her crotch onto Pete's face. Looking down between her legs after she lifted herself she saw Pete gasping for air, his entire muzzle covered in pussy juice, and a sloppy smile forming on his face. "More!" he forced, sticking his tongue out. Samantha promptly lowered herself smothering her captive once again. She bent forwards just enough to grab the base of Pete's throbbing erection and slap his cock around as her hips bobbled over his face. Her breathing quickened and her pulse raced as she felt his tongue squirm beneath.

"The apnea is a small price to pay! I can't believe the silly twat thinks this is worse than the spanking. And what a wet twat it is! She's leaking juice like fruit in a juice maker," Pete thought to himself. With his face now as red as his butt, Pete kept trying to lift his head and mouth into Samantha's smothering snatch. His efforts proved needless as she grabbed her captive's collar with one hand and reached around to grab the back of his head with the other. She spread her thighs, dropping her weight over Pete's face a little more, and pulled his head into her crotch as hard as she could.

Samantha could feel an orgasm building. Both the physical stimulation and the idea of dominating a young man played their parts in her swelling elation. She yelled out with her head tossed back, her voice almost gurgling as she rode Pete's face at a frantic pace. When it became too much she lurched forward and bent over with her head by her captive's stomach. Slowly, she looked back to see a reddened face looking back at her, drenched in her ejaculate, and a grin that read, "I win!"

"That was nothing," Samantha muttered as she made her way back to the drawer. She turned around with another pair of leather cuffs held together with a much longer chain and what looked to Pete like a small bottle. Pete suddenly heard a hapless cat on the television exclaim, "Sufferin' succotash!"

"Bring it on!" Pete taunted. He was sure Samantha was reserving whatever she had in mind for her grand finale. His act of bravado was meant to show not only defiance, but to make sure she would not hold back. He wanted it. The spanking, the smothering, the unknown punishment, the anticipation, the kink; Pete wanted to be dominated by Samantha. He had found a part of himself that enjoyed the friction of competing gender roles. He felt as though Samantha had brought him to the precipice of socially constructed tectonic plates - one female, one male. An earthquake of sexual tension threatened to tremor as he succumbed to her. As much as he enjoyed the privileges of a patriarchal status quo he found he also liked being used by the other sex. Used as a toy. Used by the sexiest women he had ever met.

Samantha slung the long chained leather cuffs around the two outermost bars of her bedpost. Pete forgot about worrying as her breasts swung above his head. He snapped out of his daze when he felt his leg being lifted and his ankle cuffed. He quickly found himself with both feet spread apart and bound high above his head and his red ass exposed to the ceiling.

"What? This old trick! I've done this a thousand times. You don't scare mmmm...." Pete tried to provoke, but was once again muted by the panties.

"Shhh, I'm about to simultaneously take you to heaven and hell," Samantha said with the cheshire grin blazing like fire in her clear blue eyes. She shoved pillows underneath her captive's head until his chin tucked in touching his chest.

"This is called milking the prostate. A Greek sailor I met in Athens taught me this. You'll cum like a God!" exclaimed Samantha, the devil dancing across her lips. With her left glove removed she dabbed lubricant on her index finger and gently coated Pete's asshole with it. The lubricant glistened in the morning sun. Another dab and Pete felt his captor dip her finger down where he thought the sun was never supposed to shine. In any other circumstance Pete would have resolutely refused entry to his backdoor, but it wasn't like he had much choice. After all, he had surrendered himself to Samantha, to the kink, to the..."Oh my God," was all Pete could think anymore. Slowly, but surely he could feel Samantha coax his prostate. At the same time she had begun giving him a blow job. There was no doubt; the pressure was building and building and building.

Being bound and gagged lost all relevance. All Pete could feel was an unbelievable orgasm rumbling like thunder in his loins and about to crack. It was as if all his body's energy was being drained into his cock and balls. Samantha added to the blissful agony by deliberately giving him a very slow blow job. Every lick, slurp, and moan seemed to take forever. With his balls in her mouth and a good hard tug he knew as well as she that the time had come. Pete groaned and strained his neck as far back as his position allowed. At that moment Samantha perched herself directly above him. "Mmm, cum a big load for mommy," she purred. Pete snapped forward, startled by the remark, and saw what was coming. His captor had his cock pointing directly at his own face.

Rope after rope of his own hot cum sprayed Pete in the face. Samantha had delivered on her promise. He felt like he was in both heaven and hell. He shut his eyes and pursed his lips reeling and squirming from the inevitable. He felt a long string hit him directly between the eyes. Another splattered across his cheek and lips. A good sized gob landed in his hair. Every cum shot exploded with a feeling of ecstasy and humiliation until he was completely spent. Once again the television chimed in on his escaping consciousness. This time a dimwitted starfish and his square-pantsed friend were laughing hysterically. Pete couldn't help imagine the duo were laughing at him. The shame brought him back to his senses. As he opened his eyes he saw Samantha raise her head slowly from between his legs and settle her cheek on his crotch.

"I think you've paid your debt to my underwear drawer. What do you think, Petey?" Samantha asked, eager to see her captive's reaction.

Pete just lie there, motionless, with a look of utter dejection. Samantha leaned in and removed the panties from his mouth. With her hand just inches from his mouth Pete gnashed his teeth and feigned a bite. Samantha jerked back in playful shock, looking as nervous as she did excited. "Untie me," mumbled Pete in a fatigued voice. With his neck and limbs unfastened Pete sat up, cum and pussy juice dripping from his face. Without saying a word, he made his way to the shower. A pouting Samantha appeared in the doorway with her head down and her eyes up. "Too much?" she asked. Before entering the shower he grabbed her by the side of the head and rubbed his messy face over hers. "Not enough!" was his only response. Now as messy as him, she gave the same look of playful shock and nervous excitement as before.