Cornered

Sam had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. Our families went to the same church, we went to the same school. We were inseparable from an early age. Naturally, as we entered high school, I developed a crush on her. Who wouldn't? She was a star athlete on the softball team, and drop dead gorgeous. Senior year, I finally built up the courage to ask her to prom, and was promptly rejected. She didn't want to ruin our friendship, she had responded. I was completely despondent. Everyone knew how much I cared for her, and despite all that, she left me high and dry.

Despite my rejection, we remained friends, and after we graduated, ended up at the same university. We would hang out most weekends, either sharing a meal in my dorms' dining hall ( she claimed it was better than hers), or just relaxing in one of our dorms. She would vent to me about her frustration with school or boys, and I would seek out her advice for everything in my life. Eventually, we moved off campus to our own apartment, which is how I came to find myself on her bed, crying my eyes out over a fight I'd had with her best friend, also known as my girlfriend.

"Hey now, Derek. It's ok, bud." Sam comforted, running her hand down my back. "Stacy'll come around."

I gave a small snort, then turned to blow my nose. *honk*

Sam let out a small chuckle. "I'm gonna make us some hot chocolate, and then we're gonna watch that awful movie you wanted to. What was the name? Pointe lake?"

It was my turn to laugh. "Don't pretend you've never heard of 'Point Break'," I countered.

Sam rolled her eyes, and headed out the room to the kitchen. As she left, I sprawled out across her mattress, breathing in the smell of her room. Her perfume, as always, seemed to linger, and after all these years, almost had a calming effect. As I nestled into her mountain of pillows, Sam came back into the room, holding a tray with whipped cream, marshmallows, and two mugs of cocoa.

"Make yourself at home!" She quipped, sarcastically.

"You know I will," I said, wiping a lingering tear from my cheek as I grabbed my mug.

Sam plopped down beside me, and gave me a playful shove.

"Hey! Lookout, bozo. I almost spilled!" I exclaimed, steadying my cup with both hands.

Sam flashed me a grin, and I couldn't help but smile back. The movie began, and we both cozied down to watch.

AS the credits rolled, I could barely keep my eyes open. Sam gingerly took my mug from my loosening hands, and placed it on the nightstand beside her. She sighed.

"Just tonight, though, ok?"

"Yeah, mmmmmkayyy," I replied, stretching and miming a snow angel in the comforter, already half asleep.

I felt Sam pull the comforter over me, and, though I couldn't be sure, thought she rustled my hair as I drifted off to sleep.

***

I awoke, alone, to a wall of texts from Stacy.

Gosh, You can be so inconsiderate sometimes

Sent 10:30

I TOLD you that it was important to me.

Sent 10:31

You should've come.

Sent 10:31

Look, Derek, all I want is an apology.

Sent 10:35

Nothing?

Sent 10:45

Gosh, why do I even waste my time?

Sent 11:00

I gulped. I wasn't even awake to read those, but it didn't matter. Stacy would just claim my need for sleep was somehow because I didn't care about her. I texted her a long apology, and hoped it would be enough.

*ding*

I snatched up my phone to view her reply.

Ok. Busy rn.

Well, that meant I was in for it. I tried to put that out of my mind, however, and prepare for my day. Sam's clock read 9:30, which meant I had to rush to make it to campus on time for my lecture. I took a lightning quick shower, and toweled myself off enough that I wouldn't have any visible wet spots on my clothes. Throwing on my same clothes from yesterday, I ran out the door, hopped in my car, and sped off to class. The day passed relatively uneventfully after that, and in the blink of an eye, I was sitting in my kitchen again, helping Sam clean the dishes after dinner.

Sam brushed past me to begin putting our plates in the cupboard, but paused for a second.

"Whew, Derek, you smell like a wet dog."

I muttered an apology, and quickly explained what had happened earlier that day.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm buying you some body wash. Use it."

"But I already ha-"

Sam cut me off. "Use it."

I silently nodded, and she returned to what she was doing. Once our task was completed, we journeyed off to Sam's bedroom to debrief about our days.

Our conversation, invariably, drifted to my girlfriend. Sam wanted to know about the new developments, and I showed her my phone and our texts. I hadn't sent anything else since that morning, and Sam gave a disapproving shake of her head.

"If you want to keep her, you need to send her a real apology. You have to spell out what she thinks you did wrong, and tell her how you will address it in the future, otherwise, she'll just think you're blowing her off."

I nodded in agreement. That actually made a lot of sense. Sam and I spent some time formatting a text, and once satisfied, sent it off to Stacy.

"Good job, champ," Sam jokingly congratulated me.

"Aww, shucks, it was nothing," I fired back.

As we waited for a response, Sam brought up the elephant in the room.

"How'd you think she'd take it if you told her you slept with me last night?"

"Well, not well if you phrased it like THAT!" I replied. "But it's different. We weren't doing anything, it was totally innocent."

"Oh yeah, what if I showed her this?" Sam held up her phone, displaying an image of me gripping her around the waist as I slept.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Delete that!" I playfully lunged for her phone.

"What if I sent it to her?" Sam opened her messaging app, and selected Stacy's name from her contacts, while fending me off with one arm.

"No no, don't do that!" I stopped struggling. I couldn't tell from her tone if she was joking or serious.

"What would you do to make me stop?" Sam asked., her eyes glinting.

I didn't respond, but she knew by the look I gave her.

"Please..."

"Get down on the ground and bark like a dog."

I stared at her for a second, but eventually did as she said. There was nothing I could do.

"Bark"

Sam giggled, and snapped a picture of me. "That's all I wanted. Thank you." Sam put her phone away, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

*ding* *ding*

The noise startled us both. Sam glanced at her phone and smiled while I reached for mine, and read the message I had received.

Thank you for spending the time to actually think about it and give me a plan moving forward. I really appreciate it, but I think we need to talk later.

I leaned into Sams' shoulder, and for the second time in as many days, found myself crying on her bed.

"Hey, D, it's ok. Maybe it's nothing." She patted my back, and I quietly sobbed.

"Heyyyyy," Sam softly comforted while her fingers gently caressed my scalp. "Hey, now."

Sam pulled my head from her shoulder, and looked me in the eyes.

"You shouldn't be alone tonight. I'll set up some blankets on the floor, and you can sleep in here again."

I smiled, appreciatively, and Sam set to work. When she was finished, I curled up on the floor at the foot of her bed, and sank into a restless sleep while Sam caressed my back and softly comforted me with her voice.

***

I was woken early the next morning when Sam nearly tripped over my sleeping body while heading to the shower. After a quick laugh, and after a once over to make sure everyone was ok, Sam continued to the shower, with a little bounce in her step. Despite the previous night, maybe because of waking up with a laugh, I felt better.

I didn't see Sam again till dinner. It was my turn to cook, and to my delight, the new recipe I tried turned out wonderful. Sam practically moaned her approval, and the way her luscious voice sang my praise made my insides melt. After dinner, Sam asked if I could do the dishes because she was incredibly tired.

As I brought both her and my plates to the sink, I noticed a small red box on the counter. A note rested on top, with my name on it.

Derek. Please wear this from now on when you cook or wash up. It'll keep your clothes clean, and I'll actually be able to wash everything together. -Sam

I chuckled to myself. It had been a long running joke in our apartment that I tended to spill on myself when handling food, and it frustrated the heck out of Sam that she couldn't add her clothes to my own when I did my laundry.

Inside the box was a frilly red apron. I wrinkled my nose at it, but put it on. At the very worst, it would keep my shirt clean. I whistled to myself as I scrubbed our plates, and once again, the kitchen was spotless in record time. Sam re-appeared as I put the last of the silverware away, and looked me up and down.

"D! That looks really good on you!" She praised.

"Oh, um, thanks," I replied. Taking compliments was not one of my strong suits.

I unfastened the apron, and hung it up on a cupboard in the corner of the kitchen. I turned, and found myself blocked in by Sam.

"I invited some friends over to play some games tonight. You in?"

I nodded, and ducked under her arm to escape the kitchen.

"Ok, they'll be here in half an hour," Sam called, as I scurried off to my room.

***

I could hear half a dozen people talking in our living room when I finally decided to join them. Sam introduced me to everyone, and handed me a beer. I settled into the circle of women, and joined the game they were playing.

Cards had never been my cup of tea, so by the third hand of poker (and my sixth beer), I was out close to $100 bucks. I tried to excuse myself, but the ladies were having none of it.

"Nooooo, Derek, don't leave! We can spot you," One of the girls whined.

"Yeah, it's not a big deal," another joined in.

Despite my better judgment, I decided to stay, and the game rapidly deteriorated. We went from playing for money to playing for clothes. Another few hands (and quite a few funny tasting beers) later, I found myself down to my boxers, and finally had enough. I staggered back down the hallway towards my room.

Sam stopped me next to her room to make sure I was ok. I stumbled forward, and Sam caught me.

"Alright, slugger, you've had enough to drink." She led me to my room, and helped me into my bed. "Nighty night, champ." She shut my door, and I was out like a light.

***

The next morning was way too bright and loud. My head pounded, my stomach tossed and turned, and I felt miserable. My one saving grace was Sam. She brought me breakfast to my room, and chatted with me as I ate. Or more correctly, joined me in feasting on my bed.

We tore through a mountain of eggs and toast, and reminisced about the previous night.

"Oh, man, I don't want to do that again," I groaned around a mouthful of food.

"Good, you probably shouldn't," Sam replied. She pulled out her phone, and showed me some new photos. "Stacy would probably hate these too."

I swallowed hard, and looked at the phone screen. One picture showed a shirtless and pantless version of myself clutching on to Sam next to her bedroom door. Another showed one of Sam's friends helping me take my shirt off. Yet another showed me holding up someone's bra with an ecstatic look on my face.

"Oh, shit. Fuck. Yes she would. Please don't show her, she's still mad..."

Sam chuckled, and locked her phone. We continued eating as before, but now, a heavy silence lay between us.

As we finished, Sam got off the bed, and headed for the door. She reached for the handle, and paused.

"Clean those dishes, and the ones in the kitchen. Don't forget your apron. When you're done, I need you to go to campus and drop off an assignment for me."

I nodded, and she smiled.

"Good pup." Her eyes studied my face as I tried to comprehend what was happening. "Go, now."

I rose from my bed, and carried the tray to the kitchen. I was greeted with a mountain of dishes, pots, pans and beer bottles. My heart was still pounding in my chest, and my mind raced as I set to work. I had to admit, there was something exciting about all of this.

As the dishes dried, I loaded up two bags worth of bottles and trash, and carried them to our building's dumpster. All that was left was to do was go to school for Sam.

As I entered our apartment, Sam was sprawled on the couch, settling in for her usual Friday routine of netflix and napping. She smiled when she saw me, and gestured over to our table.

"Over there," She said, absentmindedly. "It goes to the MacClellan building, to Dr. Townsen."

I nodded, and retrieved the package. I felt Sams' eyes following me as I turned and left the room.

In the parking lot, my pride and joy, an old, beat up Ford Taurus, sat, waiting for me. It was a shitbucket, but hey, any car in college was a blessing.

I sped down to campus, and spent almost an hour searching for the Doctors office. I tried to call Sam, but to my dismay, I had forgotten my phone back on the table at the apartment. When I finally located Dr. Townsen, he seemed somewhat confused to see somebody other than Sam dropping off her project, but regardless, accepted the folder and sent me on my way.

Sam was waiting for me when I got home. I had barely walked in the door when I was pushed up against the wall. Sam blocked me in with her body, and placed her hand on the wall beside my head. She was so tantalizingly close, and the air practically sparked between us.

"Sam, I don't think we should..."

She placed a finger over my lips, and I shut up.

"Don't talk unless I tell you."

I silently nodded, and she smiled.

"Everything go ok? Did you find where to drop off the package?"

Again, I nodded, and she gave me an approving pat on the cheek.

"Good boy. Now, go to your room and study. I'll make sure dinner is ready." Sam backed up, and freed me from the wall.

I headed down the hallway to my room, then remembered my phone. I turned to walk to the kitchen, but Sam stopped me dead, and pointed to my door.

"Room."

"Yeah, but-"

"Room."

"My phone is-"

"Stop talking, and go to your room." Sams' eyes were icy, and I figured it was best to just comply.

I shut my door, and sat at my desk. Too many thoughts ran through my head to focus on homework, so I scrolled through some image boards while I anxiously bounced my knee. Whatever Sam was cooking smelt extraordinary, and I slowly got lost in my own thoughts.

I was startled back to reality when my door swung open, and my girlfriend walked in.

"Stacy, hey!" I exclaimed, quickly standing up to greet her. I moved in for a kiss, but Stacy avoided me, and pulled me in for a hug.

"Hi, Derek," She said, breaking away, and studying me for a second. "Sam says, and I quote, 'Tell him he is allowed out to join us for dinner.'"

We both walked to our dining area, and I pulled Stacy's chair out for her to sit. As I was sitting down, Sam called for me to help her in the kitchen, and I rose with a groan to lend her a hand.

Sam was plating our entrees, a chicken parm with a side of alfredo, and motioned for me to take one of the completed plates from her hands.

"That's Stacy's. Give it to her, and come back."

I did as I was instructed, and upon reentering the kitchen, Sam motioned to a drop of alfredo sauce on the floor.

"Clean it up."

I looked around for our paper towel, but she stopped me.

"No no, D. With your tongue."

I stared at her, dumbfounded, and she smirked.

"Unless you want me to show Stacy those pictures... Stacy!" She raised her voice, and I shook my head.

Stacy called back, and Sam told her she was just making sure she had enough on her plate. As they were going back and forth, I knelt on the ground, and licked the small spill.

"Good boy," Sam whispered to me.

I started to stand, but Sam motioned for me to stop.

"Stay down there. I'll run these plates over to the table."

Sam hurried to the table, and I heard a soft clunk as she set the food down. Sam and Stacy exchanged a few hushed words, and then I heard Sam's footsteps as she turned and paced back to the kitchen.

Sam walked over to a high cabinet, turned to me, and pointed at the floor with a snap. I got the message, and crawled to where she pointed. I felt Sam place her foot on my back as she used me like a step stool to reach the top shelf. She pulled down an expensive looking bottle of wine, and finally allowed me to stand.

"Go pour everyone a glass, then sit."

I nodded, and did as I was told. Sam joined us at the table, and finally, we got to eat. Each bite was divine, the Chicken parm practically melting in my mouth, and the instant I sampled my wine, my mind began to buzz in that wonderful, familiar way.

Midway through dinner, Stacy excused herself to use the bathroom, and as soon as she left, Sam began to eye me hungrily. We both heard the bathroom door softly close and latch, and not a second slipped by before Sam had closed the distance between us, and was towering over my seated frame.

I tried to shift back, but my chair snagged the floor, and I tipped backwards. I landed on my back, and Sam wasted no time straddling me and pinning my hands to the floor. I struggled back, but with the alcohol pumping through my system, it was no use. Sam smiled down on me, a lopsided, goofy grin, and I found it hard, despite the circumstances, not to do the same.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," Sam said softly. She leaned down, and kissed me with a surprising amount of passion. I fought her momentarily, but that only seemed to make her more excited.

"Sam, Sam, you need to stop. We can't... I can't..." I trailed off.

Sam giggled, and scooted her hips back, rubbing herself over my crotch. I let out a little gasp, and Sam joined with a small moan.

"No, stop, you need to-" Sam placed a hand over my mouth, and leaned in close to my face.

"I thought I told you not to speak, pup. Shut. Up." She punctuated each syllable with another motion from her hips. She narrowed her eyes, and flashed me a sly smile. "Besides, I can feel how much you're enjoying it."

I shook my head, but even so, we could both feel the growing problem in my pants. Sam kept grinding against me, pulling my face in for another kiss. I wanted her so badly, I had wanted her for so long, but it was wrong. I wrestled my face free from her hands, and she looked down at me angrily.

"Stacy!" I cried, and Sam hurriedly rose, and straightened her clothes. The bathroom door opened, and Stacy rushed back.

"What is it? What's wrong, D?" She paused when she saw me lying on the floor, the unmistakable bulge in my pants and growing wet spot on my jeans painting a very unfortunate picture. "D...." She trailed off. She gathered her purse and keys, and stormed out the door. "Don't bother calling, Derek. We're done." She slammed the door on her way out, and I was left alone with the wild animal that until minutes before had been my best friend.

"Nice going, bitch. Now all holds are off."

I quickly rose to my feet, and backed away from Sam. We weaved through the apartment, like two wrestlers in a ring, until Sam finally charged me. I wasn't expecting how quick she would be, and found myself knocked onto the couch. Sam leaned her weight against me, keeping me pinned, while she fumbled under the cushions, looking for something. With a triumphant yank, Sam produced a set of handcuffs. I wiggled, trying to get free, but slowly, I found both wrists shackled together.

Sam pulled me to my feet, and led me to her bedroom. She shoved me down onto the bed where straps I had never noticed were laid out neatly. Sam started with my legs, binding them at the ankle, almost laughing at the meager resistance I could offer. Once she was satisfied with her cuffs, she twisted my upper torso, and bound my right wrist. Finally, she uncuffed my wrists, and wrestled my left arm down, and into the restraint. As the cherry on top, Sam wadded up a pair of her old panties, and shoved them in my mouth, covering the whole thing with a strip of duct tape. Sam let me thrash for a moment, letting me find out for myself that I was well and truly fucked.