Family Business V
#5 of Family Business
A D/s scene between mother and son.
Family Business V
(To read this chapter, you must agree with the disclaimer and copyright posted in the first chapter.)
(Jasmine and Sam's mysterious scene continues...)
Sam had done and seen a number of interesting things in his life. He'd also felt a number of interesting things as well--in both the physical and the emotional sense. It was rare that he was in positions that were completely, entirely dissimilar to anything he'd experienced before. He couldn't even immediately recall the last time life had surprised him to the point of speechlessness.
Now, though, the tiger was feeling something that he'd never even dreamed about before. _Sara_was reluctant to give him the sort of treatment that his mother was now laying on him, and apparently getting into--he pinched himself, several times, to make sure that he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, but, it seemed, he was awake and completely sane.
That meant that that really was his mother there, on the ground before him. It was really her who was licking his cum off the floor, and it was also really her who was hugging his feet with her buff yet feminine arms, rubbing against his shins with the smooth bluntness of her snout and the silky softness of her hair.
He had to get a picture of this--or better yet, a video from various angles. No one would ever believe him otherwise--oh... yeah. He was currently in a porn shoot... He'd forgotten that slight detail sometime when he was throatfucking his mother, which he'd done exactly thrice before in his life. He'd never throatfucked her to near-climax--and after each painfully brief session, she'd put him in his place by blueballing him and cumming before he could, at least two or three times.
Did Jasmine have a submissive side? Sam, awed, was forced to believe that yes, in fact, she did. She either hid it well, or it took a great deal of careful work to make the tigress recognize it--or both. Come to think of it, in the past, she had infrequently shown signs that she wasn't dominant 24/7--but Sam had never quite had the guts to test his mother. She could still put him on his ass with one hand, submissive or not.
From here, however, Sam wasn't quite sure where to go. He definitely didn't know how to react--what was happening to him was so difficult to believe that it was surreal. Yet, he couldn't simply continue to sit back, dumbstruck--not for much longer. Jasmine would get embarrassed; he'd stutter and make things worse... no. Sam had to motivate whatever was going to happen next.
He reached down and ran his fingers through his mother's hair, albeit somewhat awkwardly. She looked up at him, affectionately nuzzling into his petting paw, and kissed her way up his legs until her face was against Sam's toned, lithe abdomen.
For a moment, a long moment, she simply stayed there, nuzzling into the tiger's fur and looking up at him, blushing heavily. Sam was unable to do very much, for the moment--his climax had exhausted him for at least a few minutes; it would take time before he could become hard and strong again. Until then, it seemed, his mother was in control, and this put the tiger in a very nervous, vulnerable state.
And yet, it seemed that Jasmine wouldn't harm him, or even tease him until he could give it to her again. She simply licked and nibbled at his fur, in a very soft, almost tickling manner--this went on, for a few moments, before the tiger felt the unmistakable cold of metal on his member.
Jasmine slid away from him, then, and moved her paws out of the way so that the camera could see what she'd done. From some unseen location, she'd taken out a set of functional handcuffs and cuffed Sam's left paw to his cock.
Now, grinning in a truly devilish manner, she proceeded to strip down to the fur. Sam, then, was in quite a dilemma--watching his mother gyrate before him was almost irresistible--then, though, he winced in a twinge of pain. He looked down at his member, and the thick shackle encircling it. Jasmine, it seemed, had put it on a somewhat tight setting, so if Sam grew any more aroused than he already was... he'd be in quite a bit of pain. As it was, the tiger's member was throbbing, heavily; Jasmine had constrained him before he was really ready for it.
She realized this--he knew that the moment he looked into his mother's lascivious, deep brown eyes. Purring and baring her breasts to him for the first time that night, however, Jasmine didn't take any mercy on her son--she groped herself with both paws and jiggled her chest directly before him--before moving forward and straddling the tiger's lap.
Sam jumped, reflexively, when she did that--he had no way to get his member out of the way, nor his hand, and now both "appendages" were trapped against his own body by the light, soft, yet very firm pressure of his mother's body weight. Sam looked up at her, not quite in fear, but with concern, and tried to use his other paw to nudge her back, just a little bit--it wasn't that he didn't want an exotic lapdance from the busty tigress, he just didn't want to lose circulation to the upper half of his cock...
She resisted him quite firmly, however, glaring down at the tiger and pinning his free paw still with her own. Immediately, Sam quit squirming--only his tail remained in frantic, desperate motion as he looked around for any possible means by which to escape, or, failing that, distract himself so that his own increasing arousal wouldn't bruise or misshape his cock--permanently.
"Naughty, naughty, naughty..." the tigress said, deviantly. "Making your own mother lick your cum off the floor... tut, tut, tut, Sam. You need some disciplining..."
Now, he couldn't hide the strange mixture of fear and arousal he felt. He looked around, frantically, or tried to--because Jasmine got off of him and continued to strip.
By then, her dress was at her waist, but she wasted little time in finishing things off. Turning away from Sam, she bent over and slowly, tauntingly pulled the black cloth down as far as it could go, until the sheer curviness of her hips prevented it from going any farther--and then Jasmine cleanly shredded the sticking points with her claws and remained like that, for a moment, tossing her hair over to one side of her face so that she could turn around and watch as Sam's eyes went wide, staring, hard, at the view he got.
She grinned.
And a moment later, she'd placed a foot on her son's chest--and kicked. Hard.
The force of the blow knocked Sam backward, off his chair. Of course, one of his paws were occupied, cuffed to his cock, and that left Sam only one limb with which to break his fall--and despite his feline heritage, he was unable to do anything but slam down on the ground.
He wasn't hurt, however--not remotely. Since Jasmine had placed her foot against him and then acted, he wasn't remotely bruised--and he'd taken his fall to the tough supporting muscles on his back and shoulder blades as well as his ass, rather than his head, for example. He'd learned to do this during multiple practice sessions with stunt coordinators and his mother, just to practice--although, more often than not, the heated physical activity had made them make raunchy love to one another before accomplishing half the things they wanted to.
For now, though, Sam wasn't aroused--not in his mind, at least. His cock was throbbing quite painfully, by then, as he struggled to get to his feet and escape--but Jasmine was already on him.
The tigress snarled at him, viciously enough to make the fur on the back of his neck stand on end. She knelt down and picked Sam up by his lapels, taking advantage of her powerful biceps--and then lifted the tiger off the ground, sneering up at him.
Weakly, Sam pawed at her face. If he really tried, he could have probably harmed his mother, then, protective sheaths or not--but he controlled himself. This was, after all, more or less how things were planned to go.
He braced himself, then, and not a moment too soon. Jasmine threw him what felt like halfway across the room--although in actuality, it was just a few feet. He hit a table and broke through it, landing on the ground with an exaggerated cough of pain, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
In reality, however, the table had never been designed to support any sort of weight. It wasn't even structurally sound--its legs had been sawed through at the joints where they met the table top, and so even the slightest hit would break the article into pieces. A good amount of Sam's momentum was destroyed by the brief collision, however, so he hit the ground with relatively little speed. Still, it looked a lot scarier than it was, and with just a little bit of camera trickery, the effect could easily be exaggerated still further.
After spending roughly a second looking down to make sure that her son was alright, Jasmine strode forward with obvious malice. Again Sam tried to escape--he squirmed over onto his front and tried to get to his feet, but by then, the tigress was on him. She grabbed his chin in her paw and held him, for a moment, making his neck almost painfully bare.
She was straddling his body, then, and held the one paw that wasn't cuffed to his still-hard member behind his back. Sam was completely immobile, then, and incapable of doing anything--he couldn't even talk, if he wanted to, so, desperately, he whined, very quietly, and tried to scoot upward to take the pressure off of his neck.
Jasmine simply laughed, then, and nipped somewhat roughly at the tiger's ear.
"No, no, no, you naughty little kitten," she murmured. "No, no, no..."
Sam wasn't quite sure how he was flipped over onto his back, then, because it happened so quickly. He was disoriented and at this point, honestly quite frightened--and that was before everything went black.
It was unclear exactly where Jasmine had gotten the small, almost purpose-built black bag from. But in a second she'd pulled it over her son's head and tied it shut around his neck so that he couldn't see. He couldn't breathe properly, either, although of course a certain amount of oxygen did reach him--that didn't make him any less frightened or confused, however. A second later, Sam said exactly what was on his mind in a loud, colorful exclamation that got him absolutely nothing but a hard smack across the face.
"Don't make this worse for yourself, Samir," Jasmine said, glaring at the crumpled piece of cloth that covered her son's face. Her own paw was throbbing from the force she'd exerted against him, so she could only assume that it hard hurt him quite a bit. "You have a naughty cock that will have to be punished--don't make me punish your tongue, too."
Indeed, the tiger shut up--but now he was more terrified than ever. His member suddenly felt very vulnerable indeed, but he couldn't soften his raging hardon--he tried to calm down, for a moment, with some success, before his mother wrapped her lips around the head of his cock.
She sucked him off, then, and since she didn't need to worry about making eye contact with the tiger she concentrated on making that slightly limp member in her maw get completely hard again. She used a lot of saliva, and swiveled her head around as necessary, bobbing up and down on the upper half of Sam's thick cock in order to give plenty of attention to the sensitive area where his shaft met his head--and so, in a moment, he was almost completely erect again, and completely under her thumb, again.
Jasmine could have stopped, then, but she decided to give the fans a little eye candy. Smirking and backing off of Sam's cock, she looked directly into the lens of one camera and jacked the tiger off, rapidly, squeezing tight enough to make his legs shake uncomfortably, and pawed the tiger into shooting perhaps a tablespoon of cum directly onto her forehead.
After that, she descended over his cock again, moving with sultry intent, and brought her lips down to the handcuff. She left his member very wet and very hard, and used his finger, not hers, to scoop the cum off her face so that she could lick it up and get it where it belonged.
In case Sam held any hopes that she was going to take it easy on him, she slapped his cock with her paw, then, and grabbed him by the neck.
"Naughty kitten," she said, again, before straddling him and welcoming her cock into her.
There was nothing pleasuring, then, about the way she rode him--at least, for him. She plunged herself up and down on him across almost the full length of his member, stopping downward motion only when going any farther would force the cuff to cut off his blood flow or otherwise injure him--when she found that point, she sped up, immediately, and alternatively slapped Sam about the face and held him by then neck.
He was able to hold out for ten minutes--and then he found his first release into his mother for that day. The amount and quality of seed he pumped into her was flattering, really, but Jasmine paid it no heed--she simply continued to ride him, moving almost incredibly fast until his member hardened up again, even after a finish like that.
To be fair, though, the raunchy sex had had its affect on Jasmine as well. Although she had tried to hide it, she had hit a climax some moments after starting to mate him--one that made her freeze, for a second, and simply shiver as powerful tangs of pleasure ran up and down her spine. Now, however, after her son ought to have been spent, she turned around--and began to fuck him, reverse-cowgirl style.
A camera had been placed next to Sam's face with a bit of thick cloth before it. Only the silhouette of Jasmine's defined, striped form could be seen, although the contours of motion that marked where her ass jiggled were more visible. It was a sort of POV style of shooting, but Sam, in fact, couldn't see a thing--he could only hope that Jasmine would tire before he cummed his lungs out.
It seemed that that was not to be. Another ten minutes later, and Sam came again--by then, things were getting quite painful for him. The slickness of his mother's slit prevented any chaffing, but still, he was getting sore, at least, and the cuff around his member wasn't helping at all. Exhausted from cumming twice in a row, without any rest or gentle foreplay, he quickly began to plead with his mother to stop fucking him--this didn't work, of course. She simply batted him about and continued to ride the tiger into oblivion.
Five minutes later, and Sam started to pass out. He saw, alternatively, stars and bursts of color followed by complete darkness--but whenever his mother sensed this, she slapped him and jolted him back to his senses so that she could continued the sexual abuse. He began to beg again--this time, she just laughed and descended down on him further than the cuff would safely allow.
Sensing real danger, Sam tried to force himself to cum faster. It was hard, since he'd just filled his mother with roughly a pint and a half of cum--but if he couldn't do it, then it would take his cock days, or even weeks to heal from the abuse it was undergoing. So he tried to ignore the terror, and, yes, the pain, and focus on the pleasure his mother was giving him by mashing her hips down against his, repeatedly--too fast, too deep, too much!
He had to focus--focus, otherwise he'd get himself seriously hurt. Sam shut his eyes, for all the good that did him, and forced himself to cum, soon--his member would soften, then, perhaps just enough to let him escape--
He came, then. It didn't feel remotely good, but he felt his mother shudder the slightest amount as she, too, hit a climax--and he knew that he had his first, last, and only chance.
Sam acted, then, with a desperate energy he wasn't sure he had. He sat up--stood up, forcing his mother off of him, and in that brief moment when his member was spent and yet still slick from the mixed fluids coating it, he pulled, hard--
And the cuff came free. It was still attached to his wrist, but he paid that little attention as he took the bag off his head and looked down at the exhausted female below him--and then hauled her up to her feet by the scruff of her neck.
Sam wasn't quite strong enough to toss his mother around like she could do to him, but he could control her quite effectively once he had hold of her by either her hair or the loose tuft of fur behind her neck. He held her, tightly, and in an uncomfortable position, walking briskly so that she couldn't recover. In moments, he had smashed her through a group of bar stools--these weren't weakened, so that when Jasmine crashed into them there was plenty of mass to slow her down and let her take the blow to her arms, rather than her body.
This was, of course, painful--but not enough that she was stunned. She tried to get to her feet and turn around to give Sam a piece of her mind, but by then he was on her.
He couldn't hold her down with his body weight, of course, but Jasmine allowed him to think so. After all, she had just had a turn to have her way with him--now, it was Sam's time.
She felt the chain of his handcuff wrap around her neck, though, and gasped. Pressure was applied as Sam tugged, roughly, and then leaned over to murmur something into her ear.
He didn't remember what he said, and he was sure that it wasn't caught on camera--that was okay. It would be edited in, later, whenever was convenient for them. What was important was the speed and power with which Sam absolutely nailed his mother--he entered her suddenly, and without waiting at all for Jasmine to get accustomed to his size, he began to pound her.
Now that he was uncuffed, he didn't have to pay any regard to how deep he mated his mother. Every time his hips came crashing forward, Jasmine's entire body was thrust forward in turn a few inches. Her breasts bounced, frequently, almost to the point where they were smacking her in the face--she tried to control them with a paw, but this simply destabilized her so that she could no longer support the upper half of her body.
Her shoulders were on the ground, then, with her hips and ass raised high into the air for her son. Moaning in slightly more pleasure than pain, Jasmine continued to let her son ravage her, thinking that soon, it would be over.
But Sam wanted his revenge. He refused to climax rapidly--instead, he leaned down so that his own tawny form enveloped the tigress's muscled body and held her in a tight chokehold. Of course, in this position, he couldn't thrust as deeply, and so there was an intimate, almost romantic aspect to the sex, then. The two felines moved back and forth, their forms barely distinguishable from one another--until Sam leaned back and began to plow her again.
The smell of sex was heavy in the air, and less professional camera crews would have had a hard time focusing on their jobs. But Sam and Jasmine had paid top dollar for their services, and they stayed where they were, operating their equipment and only occasionally moving to adjust backward facing baseball caps and tucked in tee shirts--apart from that, they only rarely murmured instructions into their headsets, instructing one another to move this way, or capture the action from this angle. Even more rarely, they asked the working couple to change things up, slightly, so that the cameras could be moved into more advantageous positions--even then, one operator had moved to get a close-up view of the action from directly behind Sam, where his camera could be angled up to see mother and son's union.
Eventually, the scene came to an end. Somehow, Sam managed to control himself to the point where he was able to mate his mother for a full twenty minutes straight. Rarely, he pulled out of her and smacked her ass either with his paws or his cock--more often, he just took a few seconds to adjust his position one way or the other and went right back into things.
By the time he was finished, his mother was in worse shape than he had been, even when he had been cuffed and with the bag over his head. She was sweaty and defeated, mentally and physically--and so she was unable to do anything when Sam shoved her, turning her over onto her back to straddle her chest.
Now, it was Jasmine who was pawing out weakly, trying to get Sam off of her--she was unsuccessful, of course, so she tried to speak, tried to tell him that if he didn't leave her be immediately he'd be grounded for a week. This line of argument might have worked if Sam hadn't cut it off with a sharp slap across the face, one so hard that it actually unseated one of his sheaths.
The tiger was exhausted--ever muscle in his body was begging for rest, particularly those in his legs and core. But he forced himself through the pain, and squeezed his mother's rack around his engorged, reddened member. He mated her breasts, then, almost as roughly as he'd done to her now sore slit--but the pleasure given to him by Jasmine's large, soft all-naturals was too much to bear for long.
He climaxed, then, all over her face--and then some. By that point, Jasmine had more or less passed out; she was only barely maintaining consciousness--but her eyes were shut, then, by the almost shocking amount of cum that Sam spread all over her face, hair, head, and upper chest. The thick, creamy fluid stuck to her fur--and dripped off, almost sticking her to the floor as well.
Jasmine tried to blink, but this accomplished nothing. She got cum in her eyes, and tried not to breathe too hard otherwise she'd get it in her nose, too--that was the last thing she wanted, so she just moaned, quietly, and managed to muscle her way onto her side. In that position, she found it easier to breathe--and that meant that she could finally allow herself to slip into exhausted, humiliated unconsciousness.
Before she did, however, she felt her son take his place at her back. Rather than nipping at her collarbone, or perhaps doing something even more painful and domineering, though, he simply wrapped an arm around her belly and made some slurred comment about how sweet her hair smelled. As so Jasmine smiled, just seconds before passing out completely.
The shoot had gone well--no, it had gone almost perfectly. Even as the camera crew circled, for some moments, to capture the collapsed couple's rest from all angles, they themselves felt almost shock. The amount of simulated violence that had gone on was something that was never seen properly done. The more extreme forms of pornography, such as the sort native to countercultures in Japan couldn't come close to the level of energy there was between Sam and his mother.
They'd be in the record books for this one.
The final shot ended, and then, the lead cameraman took off his headset and stared at the striped, furry, exhausted mass before him. For a moment, he shook his head--and then he put his paws together.
The sudden, unexpected burst of applause that broke out woke both Sam and Jasmine up. Still nude, save, perhaps, for a few slivers of shredded cloth here and there, they looked all around to see amazed, envious faces--and they were, both of them, flattered. It was true that there was a great deal of pride and validation to be had from ratings and reviews, they almost never met serious fans. Having random weirdoes come up to them and ask for this or that really wasn't that enjoyable at all, and the family had jointly made decision some time ago to never appear at any adult film award show or somesuch. After all, they were ferociously independent and opposed to the manner of things that happened regularly in the rest of the adult industry--any actors or actresses that worked with them had to go through quite an intense vetting process first.
Now, though, both felines stood up, and looked around. Jasmine was blushing under the thick mask of seed her son had planted on her--and Sam was too. They were holding paws, it seemed, and a moment later, they bowed, several times, in all directions to their audience. Jasmine's arm wrapped around Sam's waist, now, and she held him close for a moment, before murmuring up into his ear that if he ever wanted a repeat of what she'd done for him that evening... he was out of his cotton-picking mind.
Four hours later, Sam was nursing what few wounds he'd received in his own private bathroom, attached to his bedroom. He'd taken some trouble, of late, to make it truly his own--it was modern to the core, with steel and glass fixtures only and a natural stone floor that, he was told, was in a class by itself. Lighting was low, of course, and a stick of incense burned in a corner, among a few vases and faux plants.
He and his mother had opted to give one another plenty of space for the next few days. The daily threesome had been canceled for at least a week--it would take that long for both of them to calm down. Even walking across one another in the house since the shoot was enough to cause blushing or hissing or verbal threats or physical challenges, or all four and more. There was no doubt, of course, that they still greatly loved one another, but it would take time for the passions of the moment to cool.
Until then, Sam was pretty sure that his mother could use some R&R as well. He'd batted her around a little bit... maybe? Sort of? Dammit, no, she was probably A-OK already--in comparison to her, Sam was pathetically weak, fragile, and breakable.
"...Damn," the tiger muttered to himself. "I actually thought I could own her, just for a few days... for a few hours, even. But she had me under her thumb for most of the shoot... Fuck."
The tiger almost never bathed--usually, it just seemed like a waste of time. When he did, he usually had his laptop or cellphone out and was busy clicking around on the internet or texting his friends--but now, Sam was chest-deep in warm water and completely still. He attempted to amuse himself by dunking his head underwater and then sliding back up--but even then, he was still in an entirely "meh" mood.
And so he let his mind go blank. He didn't think about anything, and he was barely aware of himself. If he was more stuck up, he'd have said that he was meditating--but Sam was a realistic, down-to-Earth sort of guy, and so he'd likely describe his state of mind as "zoned out". In this manner, he looked right through his sister for a full ten seconds, after she entered the bathroom.
When he noticed her, he jumped, a little, and then turned away, speaking in a fairly irritated tone.
"Sara, I need some time to myself, alright? Seriously, sis--just leave me alone, alright?"
Silence was his response, and so he assumed that the tigress had left. He felt somewhat guilty for speaking to her like that, without any provocation--he'd apologize later, but for now, he just needed to relax.
Sara was only a few feet away when Sam noticed the almost silent shuffling of her feet across the floor. He turned again--but this time, he wasn't irritated, just tired. Sighing, without even making eye contact with the tigress, he just spoke in a miserable, defeated tone.
"Look, Sara... I'm not in a great mood right now. Sorry... but I really need some time alone."
The tiger's eyes had focused, by then, on the space directly in front of him. Sara hadn't stopped walking, and so her brother was forced to look directly at her pale, sleek-furred underbelly. Her midriff was bare, and it seemed for a moment that she was completely nude. When Sam looked up, he saw that her breasts were bare--but a flicker of motion below the tigress's waist guided his gaze there, and he saw that she was wearing a sort of extremely sheer silk skirt. That lone article of clothing hid nothing from him, and for a moment, he wondered why she was dressed in such an odd way.
Then, of course, he saw that Sara had somehow tied her own paws together with a length of leather cord.
The tiger shifted, briefly, so that he was sitting up straight in the tub. He looked up at his sister--and she looked back at him with her head lowered humbly. Her eyes were shut until she opened them, briefly, speaking to her brother in a warm, caring tone.
"Sam, I saw parts of the raw video from earlier today... you were great, little bro... but I thought you needed a little cheering up. So, here I am, Sam, just for you. Just for today--until midnight--I'm your personal slave, Sam." She blushed as she said that. This sort of roleplay was extreme, even for her--she'd only attempted it once, not on camera, and it had only lasted for about ten minutes before she'd grown too embarrassed to continue, and that was just sexual slavery. This time, the tigress was willing to go quite a bit further...
"You can do anything you want to me, Sam. Fuck me any way you want, beat me up, spit on me... and I'll do anything you want, Sam. All you have to do is command... Master."
A bit nervously, the tigress swallowed. She kept her head lowered, though, and didn't move--after all, Sam hadn't told her to do anything yet.
For his part, Sam scooted to the far end of the tub and looked his sister over. She truly was beautiful--always--but especially just then. She'd done something to her hair to make it extremely sleek and straight--apart from that, her fur looked as sleek and soft as ever. And her body--it made Sam's breath catch in the back of his throat as he looked her up and down again.
Although Sara was short, she had the sort of build that almost any woman would kill for. She was slim, sure, but not to the nearly (or wholesale) unhealthy degree that was popular these days--and her curves did not suffer. She was busty and she had ass, and Sam knew that she was 100% natural.
When Sam looked at his sister's face, though, he really did have to smile. She was beyond exotic--although her features were predominantly Caucasian, the slight influence of remote Oriental ancestry was visible when he looked closely. How many in the world were in Sara's class?... Sam wasn't sure, but he doubted that they numbered more than ten at best.
"Sara... come here," the tiger murmured. He'd rested his arms out on the edge of the tub, making him look a lot bigger than he really was. Whether it was conscious or not was difficult to say--because his eyes were still locked on his sister.
"Yes, Master..." she replied quietly. Still looking down, she approached him, slowly, her feet noiseless as they padded across the floor. Once she was next to Sam and facing his shoulder she stopped, waiting for further orders.
Sam looked away, though, and for a long moment it seemed that he might have Sara stand there for hours, just to see if he could. Then, though, he spoke without looking to her, hunching up his shoulders a little bit.
"Massage me."
Sara complied immediately, this time without verbal acknowledgement. She blushed as she leaned forward, for some reason--Sam was letting her touch him, after all. She was so lucky...
In a worshipping manner, the tigress's paws danced up and down the taught muscles of Sam's traps. She seemed to rub him before starting to grip him, softly, slowly, but it wasn't to tease--she just wanted him to enjoy the experience as much as he possibly could.
If Sam had even the slightest doubts about his sister's intentions before, they were quickly removed. She was putting far too much effort into this for it to be any sort of joke, or half-assed attempt--Sara really was going all out to be his slave. For a full ten minutes, she rubbed, kneaded, and stroked the tension out of her brother's shoulders. By the time she was finished, Sam's entire upper body felt loose, relaxed, and he was purring softly to show it.
He told her to stop, then--not verbally, but by reaching over onto his shoulder and gently clasping her paw in his. He brought her silky soft appendage to his lips, then, and gave it a brief kiss, before continuing to caress it for a moment yet.
Sara gasped at that, quietly, and when he'd let go of her again she hugged him around the shoulders tightly. She couldn't hurt him, even if she tried--unlike their mother, Sara was quite weak.
Sam hadn't exactly told her to do that, though--so after just a second, the tigress let go and went back to massaging him, as she'd been told. Sam continued to enjoy that, at least for another few minutes, before he made eye contact with the tigress and tugged both of her paws so that again, her arms were crossing one another over his chest.
"Go ahead, Sara... tell me about... me. Don't hold back, sis." He tilted his head forward and cheekrubbed her bicep, lightly, before leaning back, shutting his eyes, and accepting the gratuitous worship that his sister laid on him.
"Master, you're so amazing. I'm so lucky to be able to do this for you," the tigress murmured. She gave her hair a toss so that it didn't drift in front of Sam's face and nuzzled the back and sides of his head, repeatedly. She kissed him a few times and he felt the back of his head rest either against or between the tigress's breasts.
"You're so tall, and strong..." Sara continued. "I felt it when you let me massage you, Master." She kissed down the side of Sam's neck and tenderly lay her affections on his shoulders before snuggling against him for a long moment.
"I wish I could look at you, Master... face to face, I mean. Your fur is beautiful... but I love your eyes. They're..." she searched for the proper word, "intoxicating. I've never seen anyone with eyes like yours, Master. You're one in a million."
Sam had no apparent reaction to all that. Sara's ears flattened--had she offended him in some way? She stopped talking, just in case, but continued to kiss and nuzzle her brother from that somewhat awkward position. If she'd done wrong, she was terribly, grievously sorry--but Sam didn't let her know what it was that she'd done, if anything.
For a few moments, Sara simply kept doing as she had been. She hoped to make it clear to her brother that she hadn't meant to sound sarcastic, or cheesy, or insincere, because she meant everything that she'd said. Couldn't he see that?... if he couldn't, then that was her fault.
"Sara."
"Yes, Master?"
"Come here... and bathe me."
Sara nodded and observed that at some point, Sam had let the water out of the tub. She carefully stepped into the sleek, porcelain fixture and knelt before the tiger--still, she didn't make eye contact with him--and squeezed an amount of bodywash into her paws. Leaning back so that she supported herself on her knees and toes, she proceeded to rub Sam's fur in all directions, starting with his legs.
Very aware of how nude she was, the tigress blushed and gasped, softly, whenever her breasts got close enough to Sam that she could feel the heat off his body. These reactions were hammed up, but only in the slightest--Sara didn't know why, but she felt perfectly, completely righteous doing as she was. Maybe it was her place to be so submissive to Sam?... this was very easy for her to believe, and only marginally more difficult for her to accept.
Within two minutes, Sam's legs were covered in suds. And so Sara proceeded to wash his member. Sam was soft, but still almost eight inches long, and it was clear that Sara was only barely resisting the temptation to verbally and physically worship his cock. A few times, her lips drifted ever so close to him, but she always held back. After all, he hadn't told her to do anything besides bathe him.
Now that it was time to wash Sam from the waist up, Sara washed her paws off and then got a fresh dollop of soap. She started to rub the basic fluid into Sam's abdominal area--and this placed her head very close to his. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her hair and forehead, but didn't yet look up at him. He could see her blushing, she knew it, but she couldn't stop, and she wouldn't ask for him to let her look at him in the eyes. After all, this night was his and only his.
This entire time, Sara had been working with her paws tied. At first, it had been somewhat difficult, but she'd quickly gotten used to it and adapted. Of course, since she could only move her paws so much and tend to so much of Sam's fur at a given time, things moved quite slowly. Sara was surprised that Sam had the patience for this--and also that he wasn't tickled by her at all. She used to harass him in that manner incessantly when they were cubs.
By the time she was washing Sam's chest, Sara's breasts were almost dangerously close to his face. He didn't seem at all aroused by her, and that was extremely odd. Sara took a chance, for just a second, and looked up at him--and saw that his eyes were shut.
Sara smiled and looked down again, returning to her task with renewed gentleness and compassion. Sam really was worn out, it seemed--it really was a good thing that she'd offered herself to him as a general slave and not an object of sexual desire, because then she'd be almost worthless to him. Now, at least she could make him relax.
In time, the tigress finished washing her brother's torso. Sam didn't seem to want to move, so she could only assume that she'd be allowed to wash his back later--for now, she was apparently to wash his arms.
And so Sara moved to the side, a little, and took up the bottle of bodywash again. She was about to squirt some more of the gel into her paws, but Sam stopped her.
"Not like that, Sara," the tiger murmured. His eyes were still shut--but he somehow knew exactly what his sister was doing without looking at her, and he somehow knew that what she was going to do was exactly what he didn't want.
Sara's ears flattened. She hung her head and looked down, sadly, waiting to be punished--but Sam simply placed a paw on her head and nudged her until she looked at him.
"Use your breasts."
That made Sara smile. She nuzzled against Sam's petting paw and acknowledged his order with a soft, "Yes, Master," before taking the bottle of bodywash into her paws again.
She didn't need to thrust her chest forward to get it onto her breasts--they were perky and large enough as it was. Sara simply held the bottle in front of her and tilted it downward until the cool liquid spread across her jugs. A few drops spilled into her cleavage, but that was useful, because the next thing Sara did would have been sure to turn Sam on if he'd been watching.
The tigress used her paws to spread the copious amount of bodywash into the fur on her breasts. There was far too much for many suds to be formed, but what was important was that she got it all over--which she did in an almost teasing manner, just in case her brother's eyes fluttered open for a moment. She almost groped herself, but her breasts were too slippery for her diminutive paws to take hold of. All the tigress could do was lift her breasts up and rub them in all directions with her soapy paws, and hope that Sam was at least interested by the soft but unmistakable sounds that those actions made.
Finally, Sara was satisfied with the state of her chest. From the nape of her neck almost to her midriff, she was covered with bodywash, and doing so had aroused her to not an insignificant amount. Her nipples didn't quite stand on end as they might if she was really turned on, but it was clear that touching herself was not without effect. Hopefully, Sam would feel that--and even if he didn't let her have any pleasure of her own, it would make her happy if she communicated to him how much just being around him turned her on.
The tigress took Sam's paw into hers. It was the same paw that he'd put on her head, just a few moments ago--and so before anything else, Sara cuddled his furred appendage, hugging it against her chest and kissing it a few times before sliding his palm down her neck and across her breasts. She purred, quietly, just so that he could feel it, and attempted to enclose his paw in her breasts.
She was actually successful, and that surprised her. Sam was a tall guy, and so his paws were correspondingly large--whereas Sara was only five feet tall. She was well endowed and she knew it, but this was actually pretty impressive. Even Jasmine could barely smother her son with her breasts, but now Sara found herself wondering if she could do the same... she'd have to try some other time. For now, Sam's arms had to be washed.
It was somewhat awkward for Sara to complete the task, though. Sam's arm wasn't an entity in and of itself, so she couldn't just pick it up and angle it as she wished--she had to maneuver herself against him, this way and that, to even get soap onto his fur--and making suds with her breasts was another thing again. But she persevered, and just three minutes later she'd finished washing one of Sam's long, toned arms. She moved past him, pressing her body against his and nuzzling him under the chin in the process, and then proceeded to start to soap up Sam's other arm.
The process was easier the second time around. Sara found herself rather turned on when she slid Sam's forearm between her breasts euphemistically--it felt almost the same as giving a human a titfuck, particularly since she was so soaped up. Sam must have enjoyed it too, because at least for a few seconds, he lazily opened an eye to watch as his sister continued to wash him up.
But soon, that too was finished. Finally, Sam turned around and stood, so that he wouldn't have to rest on his knees for Sara to wash his back. Of course, it was barely easier for her in this new position, since her brother had a good fifteen inches on her in height--she could only barely massage suds into his upper back. She did her best, though, standing up on the tips of her toes in order to do her job properly although it would have been all too easy for her to skimp at that point.
She hoped Sam appreciated what she was doing, she really did. But even if he didn't--well, that was alright too. After all, that night was for him and just for him.
In moments, the tigress was rubbing soap into Sam's mid- and then lower back. She did so with her breasts as well as her paws, gyrating her chest against him when she used both hands to wash up the tiger's toned rump and lively, flickering tail. He must have liked that, because he purred, deeply and audibly, as the bath started to wind down.
For a moment, Sara just stood there, nuzzling her chest and face into her brother's back. She wanted to hug him, ever so badly--but he hadn't given her permission to and he definitely hadn't told her to. In fact, since she was done bathing him, she really shouldn't have been taking liberties with him at all--when Sara realized that, she quickly released Sam and stood back, hanging her head and waiting for orders again.
"Finished?" Sam said to confirm. She could hear him sitting back down, but she didn't dare look up to make sure--she simply trusted her keen, velvety ears.
"Yes, Master," the tigress said quietly. "I did my best..."
"I know... sla... Sara. You did great."
Her cheeks reddened when Sam attempted to call her by her title. He might have failed--but that was her fault. She'd clearly not done enough to show him that his place was above her, figuratively as well as literally...
And so the tigress lowered herself to her knees. She didn't make eye contact with Sam, though she could feel his confusion--he'd come to understand in just a moment.
Sara hugged Sam around the shins, and kissed him up and down his legs. In the process, she lowered herself further still, and what happened next was so submissive that Sam had a hard time believing that it was in even his sister's character. She nuzzled against his feet, and not just a little bit--for a full ten or twenty seconds, she roughly rubbed the smooth sleekness of her face and hair against her brother's hind paws. It wasn't quite as demeaning as it would have been if she hadn't just washed him from head to toe, but still, this was on the far end of what even Sara was capable of.
She spoke, then, with a quaver in her voice that Sam did not miss.
"M-Master," she murmured, "please don't bring yourself down to my level by saying my name. I'm your slave, Master... that's all I am to you."
She kissed each of Sam's feet, then--and she would have done more, but he caught the scruff of her neck in his paw and pulled her upward. The tension in her fur made Sara fall limp instinctively--she gasped in surprise but no more, and allowed her head to hang as her brother hauled her up to face-level. She was prepared for anything, then--to be slapped, nipped, or worse--or so she thought.
Sam simply placed her in his lap and rested a paw under her chin. When he saw her eyes flicker open in confusion, he tilted her face up so that she was looking at him--and then touched his lips to her forehead. She blushed at that, furiously--he could feel the heat under her fur, and he just smiled before leaning back and looking into her eyes.
His arms had wrapped around her by then, and he reached up with a few fingers to stroke at the soft velvet of her cheek.
"Sara, don't spoil me too much. And... call me Sam, okay?" He leaned forward and kissed the tigress on the lips, before waiting for her to answer.
After a long moment, she nodded of course, and bowed her head again. Her paws stroked the tiger's lithe but powerful chest, slowly, as she spoke in a quiet, loving tone. "Alright... Master Sam." She looked up at her brother and kissed him on the cheek, before returning to wrapping her arms around his form and simply snuggling against him. "What can I do for you now...?"
Sam didn't answer verbally. Rather, he simply looked his sister in the eyes with a sultry expression, and placed both of his paws on her head. He didn't have to force her down, not in the slightest--rather, at the slightest urging, Sara slithered down his form. This gave her the opportunity to kiss and nuzzle at his chest every inch of the way before she was on her knees, again, with her face at his loins.
In preparation for what was to come next, Sara licked around the inside of her mouth so that it was completely wet. She snuggled against the insides of Sam's legs at the same time and placed her paws on his thighs, gently kneading at his prominent quadriceps to help him relax. Her reward was his member, in her face, hard and throbbing slightly in the air.
Normally, Sara would have proceeded to suck on the tasty meatsick before her without any more foreplay. But Sam was tired and she had to be gentle, otherwise he'd find the experience painful and not remotely enjoyable.
And so the tigress shut her eyes and took the base of Sam's cock in her paws. She could feel the heat of it on her face as well as her hands, and could have located it in that manner alone--but she used her nose, just to be extra certain that the first kiss she placed on his cock was directly on his head.
Sam moaned, happily, and leaned back. He watched his sister through half-lidded eyes, periodically--much of the time he was simply resting. Sara's continued kisses felt good, remarkably so, but they weren't particularly lusty or erotic. She was just showing her brother affection, albeit in a somewhat unorthodox fashion.
For a full five minutes, Sara kissed every inch of her brother's cock--several times over. She wasn't particularly lewd about it, though she did use a certain amount of saliva to keep it well-lubricated in case she was asked to do more. Her lips, soft and gentle, danced across the surface of his skin with a sort of elegance that would have been impossible for just anyone to do--it was because Sara was doing it for Sam that she was able to be so loving. She was purring, softly, and a few times she opened her eyes to make sure that Sam was enjoying her affectionate treatment--he certainly was, and that was what encouraged the tigress to go on.
"I love you, Master Sam," the tigress said, after a long moment. She sighed and rested her face against the side of his member, kissing at his lower groin as she stroked him, gently, with her soft paws. She rubbed her chin, and then her snout, and then the rest of her face against him affectionately, leaving her tongue out at the end to slather the side of his member with her saliva.
"You're so sweet to me, always... even though I told you that you could hit me, you haven't laid a paw on me yet. Thank you." She purred so that he could hear it and bowed her head, submissively, while she took his member into her paw and rubbed it all over her face as if he was knighting her. After a moment of that, she let go, and simply supported his cock on her face, looking up into his eyes while she sucked on each of his balls individually--they were far too large for her to take both into her mouth at once.
By then, Sara was experienced enough to keep her teeth well away from Sam's sensitive skin without thinking about it. In fact, she could suck balls quite effectively without devoting any effort to it whatsoever, she'd found out some time ago on a rare scene with someone besides Sam--but her true skill was only apparent when she really tried, and for her loving little brother, she would try hard.
His member dwarfed her face, easily. It was thick enough that even though Sara had placed it directly on the center of her snout, she sometimes had a hard time making eye contact with her brother. Its weight had been somewhat hard for her to support with her neck alone, back when she was still a beginner at sucking her brother's balls, and even now she felt it pressing down against her.
Sara was gentle with his balls, and slow. Mostly, she dabbed her tongue against each of them when they were in the warm embrace of her maw; sometimes, when she felt her brother's lust spike, she'd suck just a little bit and pull her head back to let them fall out of her maw with a wet pop.
She could be a lot raunchier if she wanted, and a lot more exotic too. But Sam wouldn't have enjoyed that, not right then--she was just helping him relaxing, and she had to keep that in mind.
She sucked his balls for just a few more seconds, and in that period of time, Sam reached down and took his own member into his paw. He held it to the side, then, and Sara blushed furiously as he looked down at her. He looked so big when her face was at his loins--so sexy and so powerful. Sara was almost swooning where she was, with her lips enclosed around his sack, when the tiger stroked himself a few times, gently, before starting to smack her forehead with the fat underside of his member.
Sara shut her eyes and kept sucking, at least for a second, before letting the tiger's ball slide out of her mouth. She considered dirty talking her brother, but decided against it and simply held still, moaning softly, the loving recipient of his affections and his domination. When it seemed that he was about to stop, Sara leaned back and tilted her head up so that he disciplined her cheeks and tongue as well--she'd opened her mouth in ecstasy and ground her entire body forward, euphemistically, so that he could see how much he turned her on. She was practically dripping wet already, and that was before Sam quit cockslapping her and instead rested his member on her face and rubbed it against her, gently, as if in an attempt to mark her with his scent to let others know to stay away.
Sara was purring audibly by then, and continued to do so even when Sam quit abusing her face with his hard shaft. He held out his paw for her to lick clean--which she immediately, gladly did--and then rested both paws behind his head, relaxing and looking down at his sister with half-lidded eyes.
The tigress looked up at him, hopefully--and managed to hid the slight disappointment that flashed across her face when he gave her his next order.
"Sara, I want you to massage my cock," he said, "with your tits. And..." he paused, for a minute, considering. "And... dirty talk to me while you're at it, sis. Go on..."
He ground his hips forward on his final word, prodding the tigress's upper chest with the head of his cock. Sara bowed her head in acknowledgement and smiled--then she brought her breasts to her face and licked them both, several times, even teasing Sam by sucking on her own nipples before she was satisfied that they were fully lubbed up again. Ignoring the taste of soap in her mouth, Sara scooted forward, just a little, and enveloped the tiger's member with her breasts.
She almost felt insecure, for a moment. For most of her life, Sara had been that way about her looks, and a whole host of other things--and then, late in her highschool years, she'd finally started to fill out and become remotely attractive. In about six months, she'd gone from being completely unpopular to having to almost literally fend guys off with a rake, but that old lack of self-confidence remained within her, at least in the smallest way. When Sam's cock dwarfed her breasts so obviously, she felt it rise in her, dangerously, until she heard her brother let out a soft, involuntary moan when she began to rub herself against him.
"You're so sexy, Master Sam," the tigress said. "Your cock is huge... I can't even get a paw around it; it's bigger than my wrist..." To show that she wasn't exaggerating, Sara attempted to hold his member around the head--she failed at that and simply held her arm up, for a moment, until Sam could see that his head was indeed wider across than her wrist. She then held both of her breasts in her paws and kissed at the tiger, lovingly, moving each breast individually in a move she'd learned from the legendary Gianna Michaels.
"I hope you're enjoying this, Master Sam," Sara continued, purring lasciviously. She moved her breasts faster but didn't squeeze herself against him too much--overstimulation like that was not for Sam, not right then, anyway. "I hope you like the way I rub my fat tits all over your huge, beautiful cock. I can't get enough of this," she said, taking in a deep, aroused breath. She paused, for a long moment, and wetly licked up and down the sides and underside of his rod to keep him well-lubricated. "I'm... honored by you, Master. I'm so lucky to be your slave. You're... blessing me by letting me do this for you."
Sam looked down at his sister with wide eyes. His member was rock hard by then and rigid in the air--he'd never been the recipient of verbal worship of this order before. For her part, Sara was blushing, hotly, but she didn't let that stop her. She licked the head of his cock in circles, for a moment, meeting his eyes for a brief second before submissively looking away and flattening her ears.
"Your huge cock feels so good between my tits, Master," she murmured. "You're gonna make me cum right now, by letting me titfuck you... I swear, Master, that you're my God." She swallowed, nervously, and with her eyes closed nuzzled the upper half of Sam's member before holding her breasts together, a bit more tightly, and moving her entire upper body up and down. It was actually something of a workout for her--and she hadn't lied about her own arousal, either. She didn't know how--it had never happened before--but she felt oddly stimulated by the loving outercourse. Every time she moved her torso downward, Sam's rigid head would collide with her neck and she'd feel a spike of pleasure deep inside of her. She really was close to a climax, and that made her blush, brightly--she really was her brother's submissive slave.
In the end, Sara had just cummed when Sam moaned, needingly. She looked up at him for orders and prepared to move just a little faster, just a little longer, assuming that the tiger wanted to finish like that and give her a pearl necklace--but Sam nipped his lower lip and reached down, petting Sara's face with both paws.
The tigress managed to conceal the fact that her brother had just made her hit a climax by mating her breasts by blushing and nuzzling into his petting paws, hoping to hide her embarrassment and surprise through simple submission. And so she was surprised when he slapped her across the face, back and forth, with his furred but strong paw. Pain spread across the tigress's face, as did shock--but when she looked up at Sam, she felt nothing more than love and a desire to serve.
"Now, Sara," the tiger murmured softly, "I want you to fuck me. Stand up and face away from me... and then impale yourself on my cock, you slutty, little... slave."
She blushed again at her brother's abuse, verbal and physical. At last, it looked like he was going to take control, and there was nothing that Sara wanted more than that. And so she did as she was told, after pitifully mewling, "Yes, Master," with her head bowed.
She stood up, slowly, sashaying her hips in the process. For a brief moment she struck a pose, purposefully, so that the blatant curves of her feminine form were on display for him. Turning around, slowly, so that Sam could enjoy looking at her from all angles, she lovingly stroked his powerful chest with the cuffed tip of her tail--at least until the tiger gently snagged it in his teeth and held it still, for a moment, until it twitched and tugged enough that it slipped from his jaws.
Normally, Sara would have berated her brother for something like that--she didn't like it at all when her tail was trapped or controlled in anyway. But, she reminded herself, she was his slave for the night. She was his to command.
Glancing at him over her shoulder, Sara grasped her trousers around the waist and peeled them down. She didn't bend over too much in doing so--if she was teasing her brother, she would have locked her knees and wriggled her rump before him, but he'd simply ordered her to mate him and no more.
Once her pants were down, Sara kicked them away with her feet and then took one or two steps back. She realized, then, that she'd have a tough time getting the leverage to fuck her brother to a climax--normally, she would have supported herself by placing her paws on his knees, but that wasn't an option...
She reached under herself, and didn't have to feel around for long for her paws to come into contact with her brother's member. She grasped him, gently, and then positioned herself above him--and then lowered herself down, inch by erotic inch. Even after all these years, the feeling of her brother's cock entering her never failed to make her gasp in a happy mixture of pleasure and pain--he was the biggest guy she was aware of that didn't use artificial extensions.
Once the tigress was essentially sitting in her brother's lap, she took just a second to adjust to his size. It still took time--unless she'd just been with someone nearly as big, Sam's member had the potential to really, seriously hurt her. But after just a second, she felt herself stretch to accommodate him--and then she began to move.
She couldn't take him balls-deep with each downward thrust, simply because if she moved too much she'd lose balance and fall. Sara could either concentrate her activity when the upper third of her brother's member was stimulated by her lovemaking or when she was mashing her tight, sweet ass against his groin. Surprisingly, the tigress found that as long as she was careful, this admittedly odd manner of mating was plenty pleasurable--she could feel her brother's eyes on her as she practically danced on the tip of his member and she could feel his deep, masculine purrs when she pressed her body against his.
At some point, Sam clapped his great paws on his rump and kept them there. He guided her motions, making her slide up and down around his member more deeply than she was capable of doing before. She balanced herself on his hands and reached back with her own paws, lifting up her hair and looking back at her brother with an erotic, pleased twinkle in her eye. She wasn't sure why, but he seemed to like it when she showed him her back--it wasn't that intimate at all; normal females wore bikinis at the beach that showed almost as much fur...
Logic had no place in the bedroom, though, or in this case, the bathtub. Sam leaned forward and planted several kisses on his sister's striped back, and that made her cheeks hot, for a moment, until she let go of her hair, tilted her head back and moaned loudly.
"Oh, Master... you're going to make me cum--"
That was as far as she got. Sam took his paws off her ass and reached up to somewhat painfully grab her by the neck in a tight chokehold. Sara gasped but shut up, and simply closed her eyes tightly and continued to ride her brother. She felt his lips in her ear, murmuring hotly, lustily.
"Not before me," the tiger murmured. He nipped at the painted velvet that was his sister's ear and held her a bit tighter. Now, he was doing some of the work to, thrusting up against the tigress's tight entrance so that wet, enamored sounds of mating echoed through the room. "Not before me, Sara. Maybe not even after me, either. I'm cumming first, got it?"
He didn't stop constraining the tigress's airflow--she couldn't answer verbally. Yet, even as real fear began to take hold--if Sam didn't relax his grip and soon, she might well pass out. And so Sara did the only thing she _could_do to better her situation: she nodded, slightly, painfully, and when Sam saw the slight flounce of the tigress's hair he took his paws off of her.
For a moment, Sara gasped, but she used her fear and pain to ride her brother faster. If she didn't finish soon, who knew what he might do next?
To give the tiger added pleasure and eye candy, Sara added the slightest sway to her hips when she thrust back against him. Her rump came into contact with the tiger's groin unevenly, now, and the angle of impact made the rolls of Jasmine's flesh shudder each time. Most males would have been thrown over the edge within seconds of treatment like that--but it took Sam a full five minutes to begin to cum.
He wrapped his arms around her torso and held her against him tightly. Blushing even as she moaned, Sara felt him find his release in her--and not just a small one, either. Despite the explosive climaxes he'd given his mother just hours ago, her brother was a stud again, just for her. The tigress gasped and moaned again, feeling a small amount of his seed leak out of her--but he thrust upward one last time and she felt a final, titanic stream of cum flow from her to him.
For a moment, Sam continued to hold his sister. Then, after kissing her cheek, he spoke softly, quietly. "All right, Sara... you can cum."
She took his offer while it was on the table. All she had to do after being allowed such a large amount of cum from someone like Sam was to stroke herself with a finger, once--and then she shivered and squirmed in his grasp as her own climax struck.
After a few seconds, both siblings relaxed. Sam sat back and after a moment of hesitation, Sara dared to do the same--and when she didn't hear him order her to do otherwise, she snuggled against his chest the slightest amount and smiled, nuzzling him under the chin.
"So what can I do for you next, Master?" the tigress purred delicately. She lifted his paw in both of hers and rubbed her face against it affectionately. "I'll do anything, you know. I'll make dinner for you, clean your room... anh--"
Sam lifted his sister up, then, and wrapped his arms around her. She looked at him fearfully for just a moment--and then bowed her head. Everything he did to her, she'd accept and enjoy, if she possibly could. That was her place, after all, as his slave for the day.
But he just set her at his side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. A moment later, he rested the side of his head against hers, so that their ears had a brief battle for dominance--eventually his came out on top, after flicking hers around enough to make it stay flat. He snuggled against her, a little, and smiled--and then gave her cheek a kiss.
"Actually, Sara... if you could stay like this for a while, that would be great. That would be really great, sis... And by the way, thanks. Thanks, a whole damn lot, Sara... I love you."
The tigress waited just for a moment--and then she realized that Sam wasn't likely to give her permission to speak. So, still blushing a little, she nodded, and wrapped her arm around him as well.
"I love you too, little bro. And thank you too," the tigress said. She shut her eyes and smiled, reaching out with her tongue to lick him across the cheek.
"For what, sis?"
"For your cum."
(That's all for now, folks. Next chapter will be along when it's finished.)