Monday morning dawned heralding a bright and sunny forecast. The early morning storm had passed leaving puddles and a clean, fresh smell to the air. Pete awoke to it feeling dirty and worse for the wear. His body lay evidence to the sexual assault Samantha had committed during the dark hours of the night. His foreskin felt somewhat chaffed and numerous welts covered a reddened ass cheek. His semen stained sheets sat bundled in the corner of his bedroom and books he kept on his headboard had fallen to the floor. When he glimpsed at himself in the mirror his hair looked like hell and he thought he could see where Samantha had spit on his face.
Pete knew Rebecca and Samantha were meant to make the 45 minute trip back to their college in the city some time that morning. They were heading back later rather than earlier in order to avoid the morning rush. It was a pedagogical day for Pete which meant he would have the house to himself once everyone left. He contemplated staying in his bedroom, waiting for them to leave, but was feeling too dirty and desperately wanted to take a shower.
He gathered his courage and made his way downstairs wearing track pants and a t-shirt. He carried his sheets with him for the wash. As luck would have it, Pete found the house empty, no sounds of voices or footfalls to be heard. His parents were already long gone to work. From the morning dishes and shoes left by the door he imagined the girls still asleep in Rebecca’s attic bedroom.
After a quick shower Pete decided to have breakfast. He grabbed a couple of cereal bars and brewed an instant coffee with the intention of making a run for it if he heard any signs of the girls getting up. When he pulled out his favourite coffee mug he found a folded piece of paper inside it. It was a note from Maggie, his step-mother. At first he was reluctant to read it. Part of Samantha’s humiliation scheme earlier that night included stuffing one of Maggie’s g-strings up her pussy. She had retrieved it out of the hamper and made Pete pull it out forcing him to place it over his head as she molested him. Pete had then been caught naked trying to return the g-string to the hamper by Maggie herself. It was an awkward and embarrassing moment. He stared at the note and let out a long sigh before unfolding the small piece of paper. It read:
“Peter, honestly! I mean honestly, Peter! I don’t know how long this has been going on or what you do with my panties, but it has to stop. I’m not angry and I promise not to tell anyone about last night. You know that I know that you and Katrina haven’t yet consummated your relationship. I can only imagine how being an eighteen year old virgin boy can be, well, frustrating. If you have a panty fetish maybe that’s something you and Katrina should discuss together. If you want to discuss it with me that’s fine too. Maybe we can all go shopping for panties together – ha ha. See, I told you I wasn’t angry. If you’re embarrassed, (em-bare-assed?), about me seeing you naked, don’t be. Seems to me like father like son, get it – ha ha. Why don’t you make it up to me and move all of the bags of soil from the garage to the greenhouse. I’ll be home at around 6:45. Please don’t raid my panty drawer unless you really need to – ha ha. Oh yes, before I forget – you’re father will be gone for another couple of days on business – c’est la vie I suppose.”
Pete crumpled the message in his hand as he hung his head in defeat. He knew he could never truthfully explain why he was holding his step-mother’s unmentionables and had to resign to her thinking he had some kind of panty fetish. He grabbed his sneakers and made his way to the garage to start moving bags of dirt to the greenhouse.
Pete loaded several bags at a time into a wheelbarrow and carted them up the greenhouse. As he unloaded the bags of dirt he could not help but mull over what had happened late last night. He saw himself at a distance in his mind’s eye, on his side with Samantha lording over him. Though his eyes were shut with Maggie’s g-string wrapped around his head he could distinstinctly see a look of shame on his face. When he remembered Katrina’s portrait staring at him throughout the ordeal and the way Rebecca looked earlier that day his shame magnified, emasculating and belittling his self esteem in the process. Pete unloaded the last bag of dirt feeling foolish and angry with himself. Samantha, he thought, had certainly accomplished what she had set out to do.
The chore Maggie had given him took longer than he thought and was feeling very thirsty when he had finished. He made his way back to the house for refreshment completely forgetting about the girls inside and, of course, bumped into Samantha on her way out the front door. Not one to be shy, Samantha broke the ice first.
“How’re you feeling today, Pete?” Samantha asked with a subtle, wry grin and knowing look on her face.
“A little worse for the wear,” Pete replied staring at the ground, shuffling his feet, unable to face her directly. “Where’s Rebecca?” he asked wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible.
“Packing our stuff into the car. Oh, here she is now,” Samantha answered.
An immediate silence fell between Rebecca and Pete, each ill at ease in the other’s presence. Samantha took that as her queue to leave them alone. With trouble looking each other in the eye, Pete decided he should be the one to speak first.
“Listen, Rebecca, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what I was thinking. I really feel ashamed of myself. I understand if you don’t forgive me, but if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you let me know,” Pete said earnestly.
“Just don’t tell my mother,” was all Rebecca answered. Pete knew by her tone and eyes that she was dead serious and made her a solemn promise not to tell a soul. Rebecca accepted his promise not with words, but with a hug. The simple act of hugging her step-brother spoke volumes to each of them. Up until that point Pete and Rebecca harboured a deep unspoken dislike for one another. Pete’s sincerity and Rebecca’s affection showed sides of themselves neither had ever seen in the other before. Neither Rebecca nor Pete could deny a milestone in their relationship had been passed. Upon releasing Pete she whispered a “thank you” and smiled. As Rebecca made her way to her car she turned on her heels still smiling and grabbed Pete’s package through his track pants.
“I was fuckin’ serious when I said I’d rip your dick off and shove it down your throat,” Rebecca reminded him. Her mannerism was not menacing, but playful, though given her reputation it was unwise to scoff at her. A startled Pete reassured her and she gave him a kiss on the lips that lingered a little longer than either one expected. The last Pete saw of Samantha and Rebecca as they pulled away was Samantha giving him a wink and blowing him a kiss.
Once inside the house Pete paused and reflected on the kiss Rebecca had given him. “What the hell was that?” he asked himself aloud. Pete now actually felt sad the duo had left, but also relieved. Rebecca’s forgiveness had revitalized his spirits to a surprising degree when he suddenly realized he was all alone in the house. “Now that I have the place to myself I can get some homework done. I can blast my music as loud as I want to. I can skim the liquor cabinet. I can walk around nude!” he thought to himself. He carried out the last three.
After getting in his kicks thoroughly enjoying all three activities he decided to phone his girlfriend, Katrina.
“Hey baby, I got’s me here a shower with our names all over it if you know what I mean, he he he,” Pete said as soon as he heard Katrina answer on the other end.
“I’m doing my algebra assignment right now, Sugar, and, and are you drunk?” Katrina enquired with a tone of concern.
“No, of course not,” Pete replied defensively. “I’m standing here on this gorgeous day with a barbecue, a private beach, and a pool table in the basement all by myself. I should be standing here with the prettiest girl in the world, but Jenny said she couldn’t make it so why don’t you come over?” he continued, chuckling, a bottle of scotch in his hand.
Katrina gasped in mock shock at the mention of Jenny, the town slut. “I’ll tell you what, Sugar, I’ll be over as soon as I finish my algebra homework and please don’t drink anymore, o.k., love you,” Katrina answered.
“Algebra shmalgebra, x plus y equals me and you, baby. I’ll be barbequing us some lunch when you get here. Love you too…Jenny, I mean Katrina,” Pete joked as he put down the receiver taking one last swig of his father’s imported scotch.