Sisters, by Any Other Names

"God, Sam," Maxine sighed, "not everything in my life is about the girl who got to have me when you didn't."

"Is she right, though, Maxine?" I asked.

"... Probably. Fuck."

"I wanted to kill her, you know," Sam said. "I had some plans for her. I didn't go through with it, but, god I wanted to make her suffer. I also wanted to be there for you, but you just dropped out and ran away."

"And I'm still running to this day," Maxine said sarcastically. "Please."

Sam was foundering. She knew she had to change tacks. She looked to me.

Fuck, I thought to myself. My turn. As if by black magic, Maxine perked right up and started paying very close attention to me.

"Will," Sam asked, "do you want to fuck my sister?" Her deep brown eyes were inscrutable. I knew we had a deal. I didn't know if I could keep it while also exercising my prerogative.

"To be honest," I said, "I'm still on the fence."

"What?" Maxine said. All her heat and venom dissipated. She sounded like a scared, hurt, confused little girl. I felt tears in my eyes, even though I didn't see any in hers.

"Maxine," I said, "I felt a connection on Sunday. But you're saying it was the drugs. I thought it was real. When we were on the bed together, you were so honest with me. Your love for Sam was plain as day, and I thought you were opening up to me about what was going on with you. It almost sounded like you knew that you weren't sure how to actually make progress on this journey of yours that you keep talking about. You sounded honest about being lost -- adrift.

"I wanted to hold you in my arms and protect you forever. I could picture us being naked, there, instead of in our pajamas, and gently entering you from behind. I could picture you accepting Sam, in front of you, letting both of us love you and give you pleasure.

"If that's not you, and instead, it's... this, then I don't know. You're very pretty. You take great care of your body. Your breasts and nipples are incredible. I guess, at the end of the day, maybe I'm not quite as typical a guy as Sam thinks I am."

"What did you want, right then?" Sam asked her sister. "Did you want Will to be inside of you?"

"Yes," Maxine said. It was quiet, but we both heard.

"And what if Sam had made a move," I asked, "if I had been inside of you? How would that have made you feel? Would you have liked it?"

"Weird," she said. "Scared. Hot. Loved. I think... I think I would have liked it. But it's still wrong."

"Says who?" Sam asked. "What country? What tribe? What culture? What religion?"

Maxine sighed and rolled her eyes. She looked at me, not at Sam. "She's too smart. How does she always get what she wants?"

"I don't know," I said honestly.

"By being a total slut for the people I love," Sam said. "I'm serious. Maxine, I would be a total slut for you, just like I am for Will. You know I'd never leave you. You know I'd never betray you. Look at us today: no lies. You know exactly what you're getting, and what you're not getting. We're sisters for life. I love you so much I want you to have my boyfriend -- my husband, some day."

"Remember what I said on the bed?" I asked Maxine. "All of that stuff could still be true -- just, you know, with lots and lots of sex. We could be the lovers you come home to. Travel the world. Find yourself. Do whatever you feel you need to. Find your missing puzzle pieces, whatever their bits are. But if you don't find that right away, and you're tired and you need a rest, come home to us. We'll take care of you. We'll love you."

Maxine stood, dabbing at her eyes. "Oh, you two," she said. "You're perfect for each other. It makes me so... envious."

"You're worried we're perfect for you, too," Sam said. "You don't want us to be, but you think we might be."

Maxine looked at me and gestured towards Sam. "She's a literal fucking witch. Do you know what it's like to have that for a sister? How can anybody ever figure out who they really are if somebody right next to them just knows?"

"I don't know," I repeated, "but you have to admit: that sounds like some deep, college-girl stuff."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, Jesus Christ. The warlock in training with the magical cock. Listen... I need you two to leave right now. I have to think. I have to talk to somebody that isn't one of you. I don't even know who that is, but if I have to go find a bartender, I will."

That was enough to keep Sam from falling apart. I got up, and moved to gather her -- literally and physically, if I had to.

"Get ready for me tomorrow," Maxine said, which made me stop short. "If I show up, we'll figure it out. If I don't, then I need you to back all the way the fuck up off me for a while, until I reach out. And I will. Eventually. We're sisters. We'll always be sisters. I'll even come to the wedding, unless it's an orgy or some shit."

"Get ready how?" I asked cautiously.

"Same as last week," she said, "but sex stuff too, I suppose. No sense in being coy about it. Prepare yourselves. Prepare your holes. Prepare to do absolutely anything and everything I want. Think of it like an on-the-job interview. I'm not a naive virgin. If I show up tomorrow, I'm the unicorn. I'm the prize commodity. I make the rules."

"Okay then," I said, clapping my hands together, "I guess that just leaves one more question."

Maxine rolled her eyes again. "You're pushing your luck, big boy."

I shrugged. "What did you do with my T-shirt, Maxine?" I asked.

"I fucking masturbated with it, obviously, Will," she said, refusing to be embarrassed. "I sniffed it like glue, I rubbed it all over my body, and I soaked it with my pussy juices."

"Awesome," I said. "The only reason I asked is because I hadn't decided whether to ask for it back. So, uh... you can keep it."

Maxine laughed. Sam followed suit. I even joined in near the end.

"The panties," Maxine said after she'd recovered.

"Oh yeah," I said. "It was nuts."

"Okay," she said. "Good note to end on. Seriously, I love you... in a way... but get the fuck out of my apartment now, please."

Sam reached out to me, and I lifted her from her chair. She tried to dither, but I put my foot down. We were out of Maxine's hair in two minutes flat. From there, we went snack shopping. After that, we went home, and I spent the rest of the day doing everything I could to keep Sam level. There high highs and low lows. I was a beleaguered sea captain, and somehow Sam was the hapless crew, the imperiled ship, and the storm itself.

"She's definitely coming," Sam said more than once. "She'd never make us do all that shit again if she weren't coming. She's just fucking with us because she thinks we need to be punished a little. She's coming."

I'd never heard her sound so unconvinced.

************

Maxine had told us to prepare our holes, and we chose to take her seriously. Sam opted for a lube suppository in addition to her long plug. I put my massager in. I was able to take a moment to appreciate the absurdity of the situation; Sam wasn't. When we weren't prepping, she was pacing. I had to grab her and hold her several times, but I couldn't really calm her down. Every hour that went by, she got worse. My own dread was largely vicarious, or in anticipation of what might happen with Sam if Maxine didn't show.

Noon came and went, and Sam couldn't eat. I snuck a few snacks while she wasn't looking; I felt guilty that I still had an appetite.

There's a version of this story where Maxine hops a plane and sends us a snail-mail note, wishing us no ill will and making sure we have a forwarding address for any wedding invitation we might want to send. It's a well-earned tragedy, I think: the downfall of the sneaky pixie -- the clever witch -- who'd spent years getting almost everything she wanted. While she'd come very close to claiming that final, ultimate prize, it turned out that her older sister was the one person she couldn't fully control. Sam's love for her was selfish, impure, and deviant. Maxine was the lesser witch, but powerful enough to go her own way. That's art. If I hadn't been at ground zero, I would've called it the superior ending. I might've even felt the urge to write it myself.

In the real world -- as unreal as it had become to me -- Sam's luck held. I struggled to make sense of it. It was her story, I told myself, and she was somehow more than just the main character. She'd managed to push a few dexterous fingers past the fourth wall and make adjustments, intentionally trading artistic merit for pornographic satisfaction.

I had her locked down on the couch in the living room when the telltale sound of a key sent a jolt through us both. Sam instantly swapped one pathology for another. She started hyperventilating; she also started pushing me off the sofa.

"You have to be there," she said. "At the door. You have to. Forehead kisses. Go, go, go!"

"I need to make sure you're okay," I said sternly, "and you do not seem okay."

She looked me dead in eye and seized control of her own breathing. Her eyes were wide and wet, but still somehow telegraphed cold-blooded murder. "I will shove an entire roll of tokens up your ass, so help me god. This is it, Will. It has to be perfect. GO."

I did what the lady said. I loved her.

Maxine was already inside, setting down her purse and a gigantic, sturdy canvas bag. She was all dressed up in Basic Bitch Premium, complete with a glossy red lipstick I'd never seen her wear.

"Oh, there you are!" she said, as though she'd been living with us for years. "How was your morning? I hope you got a lot done."

"In a manner of speaking," I said cautiously. "And you?"

"Always," she said. "Two sessions at the gym, good crowd at the open one. And then I had my lunch date, remember? She was very cute. Did I show you her profile pics? No, I don't think so. Anyway, I'd call it a successful first date. She's a bit skittish, but there's something there, maybe."

I was completely lost. It's not just you. Only my years of experience with Sam gave me a clue as to what was happening. I had to assume that Maxine was throwing me into the deep end of some convoluted scene.

"Wow," I said. "Maxine, that's great. I really mean that; I'm happy for you."

She smiled wide. "I know you are, silly," she said. "That's one of the things I like about you. You're not hung up on all that silly jealousy stuff. Happy girls, happy world."

She looked at me expectantly. I finally figured out she wanted help with her jacket, even though she didn't need it. I walked over and obliged, and she took off her heels.

"Ah," she said. "That's better."

She strode over to me confidently and put her arms around my neck. I adapted; I gave her her forehead kiss, and she melted into it without any trace of guilt or hesitation. Then she moved in closer and found my lips with hers. I couldn't tell you if it made me a better or worse boyfriend that I rolled with it. She held nothing back from the kiss, and neither did I. Up top was breezy romance -- familiar passion. From the chest down, we were pressed together tightly, and I could feel the sexual energy building.

One kiss became several. It was a genuine makeout session, right there near the front door and closet. Maxine silently pretended that we'd been having them together for years, and I did the best I could to learn how she liked to be kissed -- on the mouth, specifically. I figured I had a lot of catching up to do, but I had a feeling that so long as I kept playing along, Maxine would be gracious about the learning curve.

When the session wound down, Maxine tugged on me; it felt very familiar. She wanted to whisper in my ear. I bent down so she didn't have strain.

"Nobody's getting pregnant for real today, baby," she whispered, "but it's going to be a theme. When I spank her, you're on tickle-torture duty on her feet. If you need more hints, that's okay. If Sam needs hints, she has to pay for them. I'm the unicorn. I'm in charge."

Her words sent electricity through my ear down to every part of me. It was equal parts sexual and nervous. I moved so my lips were near her ear.

"Yes you are," I whispered back. "Anything you want. I'm sorry if I'm not smart enough to keep up."

I leaned back. She brushed my lips with her finger and gave me a sympathetic look. "Just do your best," she said quietly. "Sam's the one who needs to worry."

That seemed to be the whole spiel for the moment. Maxine stayed close to me and got casually friendly with my ass and my package. Her made-up face radiated satisfaction: I was all hers, she knew it, and she was going to enjoy it.

"So, where's our little Cucky-poo?" she asked, letting her voice get louder. "I know she gets all kinds of anxious when I have a date."

"I think she's trying to calm herself down in the living room," I said -- again, rolling with it. "You're right; she was in a bit of a state."

"Mmmm," she said, letting a hint of concern mar her expression. "Ah well, a mistress's work is never done, I suppose." She patted me and moved away, giving my swelling cock one last smug look.

"Cucky-poo!" she called out in a wicked-stepmother voice. "Come on out, now! Don't be shy!"

Sam scampered towards the foyer. Her outfit was similar to what she'd worn the previous week, though she'd swapped the babydoll for a cami and gone with shorter socks. Maxine stopped her with a look.

"And what's this?" she demanded.

Sam didn't know how to respond. She made herself small -- not difficult, all things considered -- and looked away from Maxine in shame.

Maxine huffed and sighed theatrically. "Honestly. She's in a master's program and this is difficult. Living room sofa, everyone. Will, fetch the big bag and bring it with us."

"Yes, Maxine," I said before complying. She liked that.

Sam turned and hurried back from whence she'd come with Maxine right on her tail. I brought up the rear, and most definitely checked out Maxine's high, tight, jean-covered ass on the way. It was fantastic.

Sam hovered near the couch, still unsure of what to do. Maxine took a seat in the dead center.

"Bring the bag over with you, honey," she said to me. "Get yourself set up on the right. Cucky-poo needs the full memory treatment."

I followed orders again; my cock was in full agreement that that's what I should be doing.

"You'll find some new linked cuffs in there for her ankles, honey," Maxine said casually. "You should get those out now. Everything else can wait, I think."

"Yes, Maxine."

I dug around the bag and tried to suppress my shock at what I found inside. The linked ankle cuffs were high-quality leather and lined with fur. Maxine had spared no expense. When I looked back up, I saw Sam staring at them.

"Now, Cucky-poo," Maxine said sternly, "you should already be over my knee, but apparently we have to start with even more remedial lessons than that. You know the rules: correct answers and self-corrected behavior earn you fewer spanks. Wrong answers earn you more. If we have to correct you ourselves or give you the answers, won't be sitting right for a week."

"Yes, Mistress," Sam said.

"Well, that's not a terrible start," Maxine allowed. "Here's another easy one: what are you, Cucky-poo?"

"I'm Will's cuck, Mistress," she answered.

Maxine raised an eyebrow. "And?" she demanded.

"And I'm your bitch," Sam said.

"Well," Maxine said, "at least you still remember the terms. Still, we're dealing with some very basic failures. Five."

Sam got on her knees.

"Four."

She looked at me, clearly confused. I shrugged.

"He could've given you the answer and doomed your little cheeks," Maxine said. "You should be thankful. Two."

Sam's gears clicked into place. She stood up quickly and started stripping.

"There it is, finally," Maxine said. "Honestly." She reached over and stroked my cock through my pajama bottoms. "Maybe this won't take as long as I thought."

Once she was completely naked, Sam scurried over to us and awkwardly crawled up onto both our laps. She got her ass in prime position for Maxine to spank her, which left her legs and feet vulnerable to me.

"Go ahead, Will," Maxine said.

I attached the linked ankle cuffs and secured them. They were a good fit.

"That should help you keep both legs under control at once," Maxine said. "I'm not in the mood to tie her down completely right now. Frankly, I'm a little frustrated I'm not already getting my kitty licked, so Cucky-poo here is going to have to pay for that."

"Yes, Mistress," Sam said into a pillow. "I'm sorry, Mistress."

Maxine withdrew her hand from my junk and began inspecting Sam's vulnerable ass. She spread the cheeks, found the plug, and gave it a few solid taps. "Okay. That's something. I guess we don't need to add reminder-strap-on sodomy to this reminder spanking."

"Thank you, Mistress," Sam mumbled.

"Now," Maxine said, "let's see: that's two spanks for a delayed correct answer, and one spank for self-corrected behavior. That's not so bad, Cucky-poo. Will, go ahead and get started. Cucky-poo, you know struggling gets you more spanks, so take your tickles like a good little bitch."

I was halfway in a trance, having surrendered myself to Maxine's surprisingly detailed fantasy. Ordinarily, I'd have been overthinking everything. I'd have been asking myself who exactly she'd talked to the previous day after she'd kicked us out her apartment, where she'd gone to fill up her canvas bag of sex toys and fetish equipment, and what exactly she had in store for us. Instead, I just let myself get ordered around. I let myself get horny; the massager was working overtime, and everything that was happening was as kinky and hot as it was shocking and weird -- well, weird for the Maxine I'd thought I'd known. Sam and I got up to plenty, though we'd never spent any serious money on out-and-out bondage gear.

Sam wasn't very ticklish; I had a feeling Maxine knew that. Still, I put in the effort. Sam didn't thrash much, but she whimpered and grunted into her pillow, giving Maxine the feedback she thought she wanted. I have to admit that it worked for me, too.

Maxine placed her left hand on the small of Sam's back, anchoring her. Then she raised up her right arm.

SMACK!

She didn't have my upper body strength, but she wasn't playing around. I could tell from the sound alone that that had been a good hit.

SMACK!

"What are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Will's cuck and your bitch, Mistress!" Sam groaned.

"Very good," Maxine said. Her hand slipped into Sam's cleft, below the plug, and I could tell from Sam's reaction that she'd received a little reward.

"Next question," Maxine said. She withdrew her hand and raised it up.

SMACK!

"What do cucky bitches wear around the house?"

"Whatever you tell them to, Mistress," Sam said.

Maxine began teasing Sam's ass cheeks with her fingertips, offering the tantalizing possibility of another reward, but also the threat of more punishment.

"And what's our default?" she asked.

"Nothing but a plug, Mistress," Sam answered.

"Oh, dear," Maxine sighed.

SMACK!

SMACK!

Sam cried out into the pillow. She began thrashing a bit more, and I don't think it was because of the tickle torture or the spanks. I think she was genuinely shocked that she hadn't answered correctly. That's hindsight on my part; I was still entranced, and trying my best to follow Maxine's instructions while slowly losing my mind to horniness.

"You know," Maxine said, "something tells me we're not going to be able to jog this particular memory. I'm happy to let you try, but I think it might be time to ask for help... and pay for it."

"Yes, Mistress," Sam said. "I need help, Mistress."

"I think that's the wiser choice, Cucky-poo," Maxine said, feigning regret. "Get ready."