Have you ever wondered what Freddie would become if he grew a set? I did. And I'm very sorry.
Author's Note:While I normally don't care if you read this part or not, it's your loss if you don't. I like to give you a glimpse into my psyche and overall, entertain. Everything I write should be written like I actually want it to be read. The legal stuff should always be illegally funny.
Right, so here's my conundrum. I love this little show called iCarly, right? But I also love this little book series, Harry Potter and the yadda yadda yadda. One would just leave it at that, but I have a weird, twisted mind. The mind of a writer, you could say. Purely by accident, I compared the characters to each other. Carly is to Harry, Hermione is to Freddie, and Ron is to Sam. (That also led me to thinking Draco is to Nevel Papperman, Neville Longbottom is to Gibby ( :-P) , Snape is to Mr. Howard, McGonagall is to Mrs. Briggs (Holy shit they're both Scottish, too!), Mrs. Benson is to Molly Weasley, Spencer is to The Weasley Twins, and Valerie (The bitch that used Freddie to make her own webshow) is to Ginny. Yeah. I said it. But that's another story.) When I made the first generalizations about the trio in each story, I am ashamed to say that I am such a hypocrite.
I have two major ships in my life right now, Seddie and Harmony. See wherein my problem lies? Seddie is the romantic pairing between Freddie and Sam, and Harmony is the pairing of Harry and Hermione. In the canon versions, they paired up Ron and Hermione / Freddie and Sam. At least half of my dreams came true. Love/Hate relationships seems all the rage, though I hate them. No, scratch that. I absolutely love them when they're tastefully done. On iCarly, it was tastefully done. (Kind of a throwback, but the best mention of a love/hate relationship that was tastefully done is from 'The Nanny', The couple of Niles and C.C. Babcock. Love that relationship. I'd never personally want anything akin to that, but… fun to watch.) J.K. Rowling, as brilliant as she is for every other aspect of the Potterverse, was absolutely clueless when it came to romance. Looking back, I could see that both Ron and Sam were bullies. I could also see that their main victims were their love-interest. But here's the difference. One did it because she was a tough kid raised on the street, that simply did not know how to express her feelings better, because she had an uncaring mother and a missing father. The other one was just fucking stupid.
Would you like to take a stab in the dark which is which?
Let's look at the character reactions of the victims, shall we? Hermione first – well, I remember her crying because some jackass said that she doesn't have any friends because she was one of the only people in her class that could actually get an assignment done right, even taking the time to help someone out. Serves her right; the bitch. And since that fateful day, when Ron partially saved her life by using the spell that she taught him how to do in the first place, she's been doing his homework ever since. How fucking romantic!
Now, let's look at Freddie. We saw an embarrassingly slow escalation from enemies, to frenemies, to friends, to best friends, to finally, a relationship of some sort (Edit – And then back to frenemies. Seriously, what the hell?). Like I said before, this is a love/hate relationship that I actually like sometimes. Sure, it was significantly more violent, but I never saw an incident that kept him down. He always seemed to get right back up, even though he complained about it. Okay, okay, in the first season area, he stayed down for a while. But as time went on, he got up faster and faster until he, dare I say, got used to it. Sometimes, he even retaliated. Hermione never retaliated. From the Wingardium Leviosa fiasco to deserting your friends in a tent, she never really retaliated. And is it me, or did Ron get more vicious with the insults as they grew? What the fuck is he, seven? And I can somewhat understand trying to make your crush jealous, but coming off as a sleaze in a public place, making out with a girl that you clearly didn't care about? And it's all water under the bridge by the end of the week? WTF, Hermione! For someone so smart… you're stupid.
Now let's look again at the Freddie/Sam dynamic. Beginning of the series, Freddie was in love with Carly. I am not going to place that with the reason Sam picked on him, because she clearly didn't like him at all in the beginning. She was just annoyed at him, and wanted him to go away. But he wouldn't. See, unlike Hermione, Freddie was very strong-willed.
When Sam first met Freddie, halfway through their summer break and on their way to the seventh grade, he annoyed her. So she taught him to never mess with her again.
Unsuccessfully. She just didn't get it. How was he still smiling, the next day, talking to Carly, glaring at his newest bully, as if daring her to try that again?
So, the moment the two were left alone, she did it again.
One would think that Samantha Puckett would love her very own punching bag that kept coming back, ready to be hit once more. A moving target was always fun, but if it always moved towards you like a magnet? That was her dream.
However, now that the dream was recognized, she realized that it wasn't fun. It wasn't even mildly amusing anymore. It was damn near frustrating.
During the first week of school, he found himself in a locker because he had found a new nickname for Sam: Demon.
Yet he still made it to the next class – that he happened to have with Sam. She was so shocked that he had escaped so quickly, she didn't even try to get him back after he sent a cocky smirk in her direction before paying attention to the teacher, ignoring her for the rest of the class.
However, the next day, she snuck up on him while he was talking to Carly (incidentally, this was the first time Freddie worked up the nerve to finally ask Carly out) and before he could get an answer, she tackled him to the ground, face-down, and bent his arm behind his back. Carly shrieked, and Freddie made nothing more than a grunt when the impact to the floor made him expel air, and a wince as he felt his arm about to break.
"Say Uncle!" She screamed, smiling at him, finally putting him in his place.
"Uncle!" He grunted, and she pulled his arm harder, wanting him to tap out. It was then that she noticed that his other arm was trapped beneath his body.
Her eyebrows scrunched together. His hands were behind his back when she was approaching him. When did he have enough time to put his hand in front of him? Hell, when she slammed him, they slid forwards a few feet. She made sure it was unexpected and fast. She wouldn't have been surprised if he had needed an inhaler by how fast she tackled him.
"Sam, get off of him!" Carly yelled to her.
She absently nodded and got off, too distracted to give a valid reason to her best friend on why she shouldn't. He saw him slowly start to get up and turned around, murder in his eyes.
That's wasn't what grabbed her attention, though. She looked at his clothes; unwrinkled in the slightest. His buttons were un-popped, his shirt perfectly tucked, even his collar was unruffled. He looked like he had never even been tackled from behind. He had slid across the floor, there had to be some scrape! A rash, anything!
After a few seconds of glaring, he shook his head and turned to Carly. She looked towards Sam and Freddie, back and forth, and stumbled out a bunch of incomprehensible words. Freddie sighed.
"I don't need your pity, Carly. Whatever answer you were going to say before Sam interrupted, say it."
Sam frowned. He had completely ignored her. "The answer's no, nub."
Freddie gave a half-glance in her direction. "That's my new nickname, now? Nub? Your creativity amuses me, Puckett."
"Oh, like Demon is original? Yeah, that's why you're a nub."
"Yeah, figure I might change it anyway. That almost implies you're a goddess; you're barely human."
"Guys!" Carly yelled. "Stop fighting! We're gonna be late for class!" She started walking down the hall.
"Carly – " Freddie called after her.
She turned back to Freddie. "Sorry, Freddie, but – "
The bell rang.
Carly eep'ed and hurried down the hall. "Really sorry!" She yelled back, and turned the corner.
Freddie closed his eyes for a moment. The first time he asked out a girl, and he was rejected. It really wasn't a good feeling. He opened his eyes to see Sam nonchalantly putting her bookbag in her locker.
"Don't look at me, nub. Not my fault she rejected you. That was all your charm."
"And you didn't want to risk a positive answer if this went normally, so you sabotage me?"
"Of course not, nub. I knew she was going to reject you – you're a nub. Besides, I was going to do it later today anyway. I saw you, so I thought I might as well get it out of the way." She paused. "Though I might get a little…antsy after lunch. A full Sam is a happy Sam. A happy Sam is a dangerous Sam."
Freddie narrowed his eyes at her. He damn well knew that any feeling Sam had led to a dangerous Sam.
"By the way, nub; you don't look hurt. But you screamed 'Uncle' in like, two seconds. What's up with that?"
Freddie absently rubbed his arm. He was rubbing his forearm, which was a little strange to her. Shouldn't he be popping his joints or something? She was mainly torturing his shoulder. "You told me to say uncle, and I did," He said in explanation. It wasn't intended to sound like a smart alec. But he blamed his tone on his natural genius. Smiling while he said it probably wasn't helping, either.
Sam slammed her locker. "So you tricked me, and admitted it? You've got balls, nub."
Freddie turned around. "Back at ya, Puckett," he said as he walked back to class.
The shock of the insult caused her to drop her books to the ground. And she took off.
Once again, she was disappointed to get only a grunt from him as she tackled him to the ground again. And, once again, with her full weight on him, he had found a way to get his arm under him.
It was then that she noticed that she was grabbing the same arm that she grabbed before. His right arm.
But before, Freddie was rubbing his left arm.
Curiosity overtook her as she slowly put her head down to his side. What she saw made her jaw hang slightly.
He was holding both himself and her up with his forearm. That was how he didn't dirty himself on the ground before! Even she had to admit that the boy had some hidden muscles.
This just angered her. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she pulled Freddie's arm harder behind his back and threatened to twist it.
"Uncle!" He yelled in the deserted hallway.
"I'm not falling for it, nub! You're just gonna have to wait until I'm convinced."
"Sam, I have to get to class!" In hindsight, she should've realized that he didn't sound all that hurt. He sounded…uncomfortable, like he was sitting down awkwardly.
"You're already late, might as well skip it!"
"You're going to keep me like this?!" Freddie yelled at her, forcing his head to look behind his shoulders.
They were both silent for a few moments. Freddie, looking backwards at the position of his arm, and Sam, seriously considering the question.
"You know what, Fredward? You just said the smartest thing I've heard from you since we met. Better get comfortable."
Freddie stayed silent, his eyes clouded. Sam noticed, and pushed his arm up further, quickly reaching spraining territory. That seemed to break him out of his stupor.
Once again, he did not sound pained when he spoke. But he did sound rather…detached. "Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"
Sam was silent once again. She even relaxed her hold on him ever-so-slightly. "You're not worth Carly's or my time, that's why," she finally spoke.
"Then tell me how I can be," Freddie pleaded.
Once again, hindsight was a bitch. But at that moment, she couldn't have even told herself why she tightened her grip on his arm and gritted her teeth.
She really didn't know why she had tortured him so much in the past month. Sure, he was a nerd, and a dorky nerd at that, but there were plenty of nerds to harass. Could it be the fact that Carly was so sweet and nice, she couldn't turn down Freddie's friendship just because they were neighbors, and now Sam was doomed to be his 'friend' by acquaintance?
If she wasn't worried about a teacher coming across them, she would have given a loud battle cry. This nub was going down, one way or another. Maybe jumping on him would break him down, literally and figuratively? She lifted her body off of his and jumped high into the air, her feet pointing upwards, his arm still firmly in her hands.
Apparently, they weren't locked firmly enough. Before Sam could even comprehend his range of unexpected reflexes, he wrenched his arm out of her grasp and quickly turned around. She barely saw a smirk flash across his face before he caught the arm she was about to use to catch herself on the floor, and slung her entire body over to the cold tiles as he completely rolled over. She hit the back of her head, hard. She landed awkwardly on her side, after bouncing once on the floor.
But that wasn't enough to take out Sam Puckett. But before she could gather her thoughts – or even get over the shock of what the nub just did to her – Freddie had flipped her over completely and was already on her back. Now it was his hands locking her arm in place. Ironically, she also had her other arm stuck underneath her, but it was just that – stuck.
She let out a small grunt of rage and tried to pry free, but it was no use. It was like she was trying to break out of regulation handcuffs, but without a key, a hairpin, a hairbrush bristle, or someone else's skull. He was strong! She almost let out a scream of frustration, but she stopped herself. She couldn't let a teacher or students see her like this, at someone's mercy.
But she knew she had to get out. She tried to roll, but now it was Freddie that threatened to break her arm, by twisting it further up. She let out a gasp. She just knew he was centimeters away from a dislocation.
"Ah!" She grunted softly, grimacing at the pain in her own voice. "Get off of me!"
"You know the rules, Sam." He said in a frosty tone. "You made them, after all."
"U- u- u- uggghhhh…."
"I'm sorry, what was that? Is your arm blocking the range from your mouth to my ear? Let me just move it up for you…" He twisted it up sharply, and a small pop echoed through the hall, quickly followed by a small whine.
For a moment, Sam wondered who made such a girlish whine. Then she realized she was still making the sound and stopped immediately.
"Pride's not helping you right now, Sam," Freddie said, leaning over her. "I've got you pinned. Would you rather walk away with a broken arm, or swallow your pride and forget this ever happened?"
"G-go to hell…"
"Coming from a Demon? I'm touched." He wiggled her arm a bit, causing her to gasp and let out shaky breaths with each tug.
"Puckett, stop breaking your own rules. You know damn well I'm not going to stop." She didn't even notice that he cursed.
She would not cry. She refused to cry. That would be worse than any defeat. But her body was going to force the tears out of her if he kept this up. So she stopped fighting. "Okay! Okay! U-uncle!"
"What was that?"
"Oh. See? Was it really that hard?"
"Get off of me!"
Even though she couldn't see it, Freddie looked confused. "Why would I do that?"
"I said uncle!"
"Oh." He was quiet for a moment. "I said I was going by your rules. 'Say Uncle' has been around for a while."
Sam, in indescribably horrible pain, had a sting in her eyes as the ramifications hit her.
"Better get comfortable, Puckett. Gonna be here a while."
"What? Don't like it when you're not the one in control? Don't like it when the Dom's become the bitch?" He teased, and she gave a primitive growl and butted her head back, narrowly missing Freddie's chin by his peach hair stubble. "Still biting? Hope I don't have to put you down… again." He quickly reached for the back of Sam's head and pressed her cheek to the cold tiles. He leaned in close.
"Don't… do that… a-gain." She had to pause at the menacing tone, and she had to think for a second if that was actually Freddie speaking. For the first time in a long time, she was honestly a bit scared. Not much, knowing who she was dealing with – she knew he wasn't going to do anything to her, and he would let her go eventually – but this was still a scary situation for her. Knowing she was powerless, vulnerable, and if he had an agenda, she knew she would truly be afraid at this moment.
Sam tried to turn her head, but it was useless. He was completely holding her down, and she couldn't even move her legs at this point, all the circulation was cutting off.
So she decided to try a tactic that she had never used before, but she knew a sap like him would fall for: being nice.
"Please let me up!" She pleaded, and she was almost amazed at herself at how good an actress she was. "You made your point. I won't bother you again. I won't even talk to you again! I'll even talk to Carly for you!"
Freddie gave a humorless chuckle. "How come I just know you're not even considering being serious?" He asked rhetorically. "The second I let you go, you're going to be throwing punches with your good arm 'til the teachers hear my screams. And you still won't stop." He chuckled again, even colder this time. He put her arm in a less painful grip and kept his hand on her wrist. "Why should I let you go, Demon?"
She gave a long sigh at the more comfortable position of her arm, but grimaced as she realized he was keeping her cheek pressed to the floor. "Look, I'm – I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you! I'll be nice to you. I'll hook you up with Carly – whatever you want!"
He was silent for a few seconds, and Sam was relieved that she had at least gotten into his head.
"Your…" he paused, "Your full name is Samantha Puckett, right?"
She twitched at the full name, but couldn't retort. Yelling at him was going to make it worse. "Yes."
Freddie was silent for another moment. "You're twelve, correct?"
Sam was confused – was he going to let her go or not? "Erm… yeah. Can you please let me go now?" She added extra emphasis to that statement. She planned on that being the last time she ever said such a disgusting and hate-less word… to anyone other than Carly, of course.
Instead, all she got was a firm smack to the back of her head, before his hand grabbed her head again, putting her back under his control before she even realized her head was free.
"The last two were truths," he said, squeezing her wrist, "but everything before that was bull."
Sam's eyes closed with a grimace; he was checking her pulse the entire time. Before she could even fake an apology, Freddie raised his arm again and began smacking the back of her head half-heartedly.
"Ow! Ow! Freddie! Okay, what do you want me to say? I'm in pain and you're cutting off the circulation in my legs! My face is feeling numb and my other hand is trapped under me!"
Her breasts also really hurt from the pressure, but she definitely wasn't going to tell him that.
She decided to go for half-statements and half-truths, a classic way of getting out of lie-detectors. "Did you hear me? I give up!" 'For now,' she finished the thought in her head. "I'm not going to hurt you again!" 'For the rest of class.' "I'm sorry!" 'Your crazy mother didn't decide to drop you off at the city dump!'
Unfortunately for her, Freddie was no longer holding her wrist. "I don't care what you say, Sam. You're not getting out of here. It was me in this situation five minutes ago. You wouldn't have let me up. You probably would've popped my arm by now, and started on the other one."
She said nothing. She was sure she wouldn't have popped anything. She would've broken it. In fact, if she got the chance to break out, she was sure she'd be sent to Juvie for, believe it or not, only the third time in her life.
"Though, I suppose I could help you out a little…" Freddie mumbled.
Sam froze. She didn't know what changed his mind – maybe he did fall for her half-truths – but she was going to keep quiet, so he could continue his tone of thought.
And then, Freddie lifted her up by her arm. That was when she struck with a force that she didn't even know she had.
Well, tried to. See, she didn't know that when Freddie was lifting her, he was only moving her about half a foot from the ground. That gave her enough space to finally move her arm to strike him. Freddie obviously counted on that, for his hand was ready to catch her arm when it reached high enough.
Less than a second later, she found herself in a similar predicament. She was still face-down. Both hands were behind her back, her wrists tightened in a way she was familiar with – her weak points exploited in a simple restraint. She knew that in this position, her arms couldn't even move if her wrists were held together by just his thumb and middle finger, if he wanted to seize them that way. She would have probably had the full strength to rip her arms out of his hands if one of them hadn't almost popped out of her shoulder socket earlier.
Freddie wordlessly got up, still holding on to her wrists. Sam tried struggling, but now it only seemed like she was twitching violently. He squashed that by re-sitting on her upper back, facing her shoes.
Sam gave a cry of pain as her nipples scratched along the floor when he sat.
"When I get out of this…" She growled.
"When you get out of this…" he prompted, his mind rather focused on the sight in front of him.
"I'm going to fucking maim you."
Freddie gave a low whistle. "Bad word, Sam! That's unbecoming of you. I'd ask if you kiss your mother with that mouth, but from what I've seen of you so far, she must be either dead or embarrassed of your existence."
Sam gritted her teeth. "She cares enough that if she finds out what you're doing to me right now…"
"I'm not doing anything to you," Freddie chuckled. "Believe me, I could be doing a lot worse."
"Like what?" She dumbly asked, shock on her face.
She immediately regretted it.
She yelped as his hand firmly swatted at the left cheek of her rear, her jeans not really protecting her as much as she wanted. "Ah! What the fuck!"
"Do you want the whole school to see you like this, Sam?" Freddie asked her, poking her cheek with emphasis. "I suggest you quiet down. Oh, and…" SMACK, "…no more cursing. Kay?"
"Fuck you, you freak!" She growled at him, considerably quieter.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"Ow! Oh! Ow! Okay, Freddie! - Ah! - I won't - Oh! - curse anymore!" His hits were unbelievably hard on her barely protected ass. She felt herself starting to cry. "Stop! Please! Sto - Ow! - please!"
Freddie paused to rest his hand. For a twelve-year old, she had a very nice bum. He placed his hand on her ass, gently this time, and began rubbing it softly.
Sam kept herself from sniffing, she felt her nose starting to run. "Wha- what do you think you're - "
"I'm making you feel better," He said simply, in his own world, bringing both hands into the fun.
If she was any louder, she knew he would have heard the distress in her voice, but she didn't want to let him see her cry. "S-Stop…"
"Unless you want me to spank you again, then massage it, then spank it a third time, shut up, Sam."
It hurt almost as much as the spanking itself, refraining herself from talking. She sobbed silently to herself as Freddie had his way with her, kneading her ass like dough.
Wait… his hands were on her ass. So what was holding her hands together? She moved her hands minutely, and felt him twitch a little.
He was sitting on her hands. She began struggling again, newly enraged.
He tsked and quickly grabbed her hands again. "I was just starting to enjoy myself," he muttered, watching her squirm and struggle. Rather, watching her ass jiggle and shake. He began smacking her bum with not nearly enough ferocity, but with just as much vigor. It didn't hurt as much, but her ass was still red, and she cried out in pain. "You know, I don't think you've ever had a spanking before." He ignored the muttered 'No shit, Sherlock,' for now. "Your attitude is appalling. I think it's time for one."
Before she could register what he said, he roughly turned her over on her back and effortlessly unbuttoned the front of her jeans.
Then she began kicking, but he had already sat on her stomach, his hands holding hers in place. It didn't stop him from loosening her pants, but it did stop him from trying to pull them down. Actually, she was trying to kick his teeth in.
She didn't notice when he began pulling on his shoelace. She did notice when he caught one of hers in mid-kick. He sat on her hands again and quickly grabbed both of her legs to unloosen her laces. She was absolutely powerless in his grip, she quickly came to realize. He extended his legs to wrap around her own, as he quickly, without fumble, tied both her shoelaces together.
Her legs were trapped until she found a way to kick off her shoes. She was already planning to do it while he tried to rip off her pants again when she realized he didn't stop. She felt him tie the other ends of the laces around her ankles, and put it all into one elegant, extravagant knot.
Freddie grabbed her wrists again with a small smile. He grabbed the shoelace from his own sneaker, that he had thrown to the side momentarily, and slowly tied her hands together in such a complicated knot, she got lost at the fifth loop.
"Boy Scouts," he explained unnecessarily.
"What the hell are you doing to me," she muttered, dazed. He had noticed her tear-stained face, and said nothing about it. He must have known since she started.
"Well, I guess I'm about to spank you," He chuckled half-heartedly, "I've got this far. Not like I'm gonna let you continue being a bitch for the rest of your life."
"I am going to fucking kick your teeth in when I get out of this, you pervert!"
"Pervert?" Freddie asked, pondering the word. "It beats 'Nub', I guess. Much better than 'Freak.' But you can do better than that." With that, he began peeling down her jeans.
Her legs were flawless, and pale, but certainly not as pale as the legs on Carly. For all of Sam's toughness, she had a very girlish figure, He figured it was time she got to know the more feminine side of Samantha Puckett.
She had on a pair of black boxers, the single button undone. She must not have seen a point in it, it's not like anything would slip out or something, and she wouldn't need to mess with the button to go pee.
He was interrupted with his thoughts when she began struggling, yet again. He turned back to look at her, and a smirk found a way onto his face. "Seems like you're enjoying this."
She stopped struggling for a second to glare at him, then in confusion as she realized he was looking elsewhere. Looking down, her face turned red. He was looking at her nipples. Her fully distended, rock-hard nipples.
She felt no need to wear a bra at her age - besides, they made her feel too girly - so only her yellow polo shirt was in the way. Normally, she would have worn an undershirt or a wifebeater, but she had not been wearing those all summer, and she had forgotten to wash them before going back to school. She would have washed them next week. She didn't have the chance to steal some quarters, or to drop her load off at Carly's.
He quickly swept his hands over her breasts, and brushed over her nipples. She squeaked and tried to turn over. This time, he allowed it, and stood up a little for her to roll over on her stomach to keep his hands away from her. She didn't know why he let her, but she was just a little thankful that he did.
"Fucking pervert!" She cursed, and cried out as her bum was slapped yet again, with a ferocity that had her trying to scamper away. Once again, Freddie allowed it.
But he had hooked a finger into her waistband, and let her do all of the work. Her boxers were halfway down to her knees when she felt a small breeze that made her yelp, and the scratching against her thighs made her realize what she had just done. Freddie barely had the time to see her cute, reddened ass before she began backing up into her boxers again. He chuckled at her antics, and she only growled in response.
"You're wearing very thin boxers, you know," He commented, looking at the curvature of her ass. Seeing the reddened cheeks just made him want to hit it again and again, until it glowed. "Doesn't really bother me if you're wearing them or not."
Sam turned her head towards her captor, tears in her eyes. She was desperate, they both knew it. She knew what he was planning, and even if she was wrong, there was no way she would like whatever other options he had in his head. "Look… Freddie…whatever you're thinking of doing… don't do it…please."
He humored her, running his hands over her cheeks with fondness. "Why not?"
"You could get caught! We're in the middle of the hallway!"
He chuckled. "You're the bad girl. I thought you would like the risk."
"Then by all means, scream. Call for help. Do whatever you need to do." He began rubbing her thighs, loving the feel of her flawless skin and the abrupt, upwards curve of her cheeks. "Just hope that they don't have a pearPod when they see you. Or hope that they don't want to join in on the fun. You have a lot of enemies here, Puckett. I've done my research."
She acknowledged that with a frown. She was aware that she was the bully of Ridgeway Middle School. Sure, she had friends - mostly mutual friends of Carly's - but anyone she didn't know was usually either a victim or someone who was aware of her legend. They wouldn't help her.
She tried one more tactic. "What about Carly?"
He abruptly stopped fondling her ass. "What about her?"
She would have smirked, had she not been crying half a minute ago. "She's my best friend. I tell her everything. If you think I'm gonna just skip this in our next conversation…" She paused to let her words sink in.
She smirked. "She'll think you're a monster. A pervert. A stupid little boy who couldn't keep his hands to himself." She turned back to smile at him, but was struck cold by the calculating look on his face.
"Fair point." He muttered, and smiled. He slowly slipped his hands under her waistband again, and roughly grabbed both cheeks, causing her to yelp. "But if I decided I really wanted Carly's attention, then I wouldn't be doing this to her best friend in the first place."
He ignored her for a moment, and took the next step in fondling her. He slipped his finger between the crack of her lovely inner thighs, and slowly slid his finger across her hairless lips.
She forced out a sob. "Please! No! Stop!" No one had ever touched her like this, and she had rarely done so herself. She had tried it, found that she didn't like it that much, and never looked back. At that moment, she was ashamed to say, her body liked this too much.
He stroked her virgin lips for a few more seconds until he felt a little moisture seep out of her tight pussy. Her legs were squeezed together tightly, and he decided that she needed to loosen up.
"Carly's a cute girl," Freddie casually spoke. "Beautiful, really. Nice smile, nice personality, but… she's a bit underdeveloped, you know?" His finger slipped in her delicate crack and rubbed along her inner walls, not quite going in. "You, on the other hand, are a horrible person. You're not sweet, not loving, not considerate in any way, but…" He paused to partially slip his finger in, and she winced and shuddered. "the outside is the complete opposite. If your outer beauty could reflect your inner beauty, you'd be the most desirable girl in the school." His finger wiggled inside her a bit, and she cried even harder as her legs relaxed, desperate for more.
He turned her over, again, and this time she followed like a ragdoll. He grabbed her waistband with his free hand and rolled it down to halfway past her thighs. She began to struggle again, but this time it was different. Freddie grinned as he realized she was pretending to struggle, shaking around for effect, but wiggling her hips so he could maneuver her boxers down a little bit.
He finally got to see her hairless cunny in all its glory. It really was beautiful. Her pussy lips were a pinkish hue, and would have been sealed tightly together had his finger not gotten in the way. He shuddered as her snatch seemed to swallow his finger in, wetting it with her fluids.
That was when he truly began pumping his finger in and out. Sam let out her first moan seconds later, never having felt something this intense. A small squelching sound was heard as he went in and out, the tight space suffocating his finger. Sam didn't even notice that she had lifted her knees to give him better access, she was trying to keep herself from moaning.
He pulled out his finger, and it took everything she had in her to try not to lift her hips to keep it in, and failed. He turned towards Sam with a small grin, and she tried to look away. She really, really tried.
Right when she felt that she had almost succeeded, he stuck his glistening finger in his mouth and quickly pulled it out. She froze in shock as his smile got wider. "Tangy," was all he said.
Before she could make a noise, whether it was going to be a groan, a moan, or a gasp, even she didn't know, he had put his index and middle finger together and began to prod her hole again. It was a tight fit, but he wiggled his way in, and made a 'come hither' motion with his fingers.
She lurched with a small "Oh!" and felt herself getting close. Her pussy was on fire - she wanted to play with her breasts so bad. She would kick his ass later, she just needed to get off and she would be able to think straight again. Yeah, that's it. She just needed him to fuck her little pussy good and hard - with only his fingers, of course - and then she would kick the shit out of him. And maybe return the spanking, maybe with a belt -
"Aaaah!" She whined softly as she had a mini-orgasm, the squelches getting louder, Freddie's fingers going faster. He began tracing circles on the tiny bundle of nerves that finally decided to show itself. "O-Oh, fuck!" She murmured, humping along with him, all pretenses gone. She needed this. She didn't want this, she told herself, she needed this. She hated what he was doing, but she loved every fucking second of it.
Freddie stood, taking his fingers out of her again, and she couldn't believe the whimpering sound that came out of her. She just whimpered! Like a little bitch begging for a bone! Okay, bad metaphor…
She shivered in shock when he pulled up her shirt, baring her breasts to him.
While her breasts were in no way big, she had a lot more to offer than Carly, who was stuck on a training bra for now. Her pink nipples were painfully untouched and engorged with blood, surrounded by quarter-sized areolas. She never thought they were much to look at. Either way, Freddie gazed upon them with pure lust as he slid his tongue across her right nipple while putting his fingers back inside her, wiggling them wildly as he went through the entire process of trying to loosen her up.
Sam moaned and gasped as she writhed in Freddie's grasp, not even trying to cover her bare tits with her arms. She bucked in his hand as her juices leaked to the floor, wetting her boxers. She was in a haze as she panted, shaking her head to get her hair out of the way, moaning.
"M-More…" she found herself chanting, over and over again, hoping that he would grant her wish.
And then he stopped. She opened her eyes, about to scream in frustration, when she saw his glistening fingers hovering over her chin. Behind the hand, she saw Freddie had a victorious look in his eyes, already knowing what she would do.
And she knew she would, too. Her mind was in a deep, wonderful haze that only he was able to fix. She had never been able to cum before, but now she was gushing! She felt her own girl fluids falling in rivulets down her ass crack, onto the tiled floor. She felt Freddie caressing her bare, flat stomach in anticipation, finding a way to make her giggle and shiver at once.
She had admitted to her fate a while back, but what would this do? Cement it? Would this mean that he officially dominated her? He already had, for the moment anyway. But if she licked her own cum off of her fingers, would that be public acknowledgement? And what if she didn't? Would he stop? Would he force them into her mouth?
She found herself clenching uncomfortably, wanting him back inside of her. She didn't want to think of the ramifications of her getting turned on by that last thought, of actually liking the possibility of domination of her, by him, but she knew that was a question that she couldn't avoid later.
Completely resigning herself to her fate, Sam slowly opened up her mouth, just wide enough for Freddie to stick his fingers in. Freddie, already knowing she was going to, but was a bit disappointed in the seconds of hesitation, used his index to wipe a little of her cum on her lips. Sam closed her eyes with the humiliation, but didn't bother turning away.
"Not as shiny as lip-gloss," Freddie found himself commenting, "but definitely tastier."
As if to prove his point, he smoothly transitioned from her shiny lips to her tongue. Sam, in a daze, didn't flinch. Moments later, she found herself sucking on the offending fingers, trying to forget what was on them. The taste wasn't exactly unpleasing to her; if she could find the right word for it, -
"Tangy, hm?" Freddie repeated, loving the way she suckled on his fingers. He slowly used the hand that was previously gliding across the bottom of her flat stomach, and slid his fingers further down to her glistening snatch. After a few seconds, Sam had no doubt in her mind that the boy was ambidextrous. She found herself sucking harder on his fingers, the juices long gone, just as a distraction for the freight train of a climax that he was going to give her.
Of all the things he had done to her so far, she really couldn't know when the point of no return would start. He had already spanked her, stripped her, fingered her, made her taste herself, and above all things, made her enjoy every single deplorable act. She couldn't even bring herself to cry at this point, her hips thrusting forward to meet his fingers as he wiggled and scissored and ground into her willing, weeping slit. She spread her legs a little wider, her knees a little higher, and if Freddie had taken off her shoes, he would see her toes curling. She kicked lightly at the ground with every thrust, her shoes scuffing the floor – another reason for the janitor to hate her, and so early into the year – She shook her head wildly, trying to get the sweat out of her eyes.
She knew what came next, pun intended, and she honestly didn't know whether she was looking forward to it or not. She groaned as she felt her orgasm approaching. Freddie quickly removed his fingers from her mouth and began playing with her barely abused breasts again, squeezing her nipples lightly. He slowly turned his other hand in a circle, until his thumb was on her clit, and began circling it and fiddling the nerves.
Sam kicked harder, all sense of modestly gone, as she grinded herself into him with all the strength she had. Her breathing became heavier, her dirty-blonde locks skating back and forth against the tiles, her mind both dreading and anticipating that final leap into her submission.
"Open your eyes," Freddie grunted, and she instantly acquiesced to his command. His brown eyes pierced her own deep blues, and he sneaked closer to her face. At that moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She licked her lips in anticipation, forgetting the dried cum on her lips. And then he whispered.
"Whenever I make you cum, I want you to look at me."
She couldn't even analyze his statement when he leaned down and kissed her. And her eyes widened as he did, not from the kiss, but the statement.
But what scared her most was that as his lips touched hers, she found herself beginning to cum. Her body churned as she thrust into his finger, struggling to keep her lips attached to his own, as her mind shut down. Her eyes wide, her lips responsive as he pressed his tongue into her mouth, unsure what to do for her first kiss, never mind her first French kiss. She felt the liquid sloshing and soaking his fingers as his hand went into overdrive, determined to never let her come down from her high. Her thrusting slowed, and she finally settled on her hips raised off the ground as high as she could, having almost no energy left. Freddie released her nipples and reached behind her head to deepen the kiss, and she reacted instinctively. Her fingers, having numbed a long time ago due to his sitting on her hands, began twitching to life, and not even aware of her own actions, she found herself wrapping both arms around his waist and pulling him closer.
It was almost a minute later until her orgasm was coming down and her legs were twitching in the aftershocks. Freddie had stopped thrusting, knowing that her pussy was sensitive, but he still kept his fingers inside her. He took his thumb off her clit and corrected his hand until it was at a more comfortable position. He had lifted himself off her body when he had kissed her, and he noticed her freedom of motion, but mentioned nothing of it. Obviously, he was still wary, but he knew she was still out of it. So he decided to abuse that knowledge one last time.
He slowly slipped his fingers out of her well-fingered hole and brought it up to his mouth. He licked his index finger once and chanced a glance at Sam. Her eyes were closed once more, in post-orgasm bliss. He pressed both fingers on her soft lips, fully expecting her to open her eyes and grimace at him. He was pleasantly surprised when she opened her mouth wordlessly and stuck her tongue out to get a small lick at his fingers. He slowly followed her tongue into her mouth as she began suckling the tangy-sweet honey from his fingers, all without opening her eyes.
When she finally did, she looked almost confused. Freddie didn't really want to look victorious and completely reverse everything he had done, so he gave her an expectant look. Her tongue stopped swirling around his fingers and she awkwardly unwrapped her arms around him. He took that as his cue to get up, and he slowly did, stretching a little as he did so. He looked down at Sam, who hadn't regained full control of her body yet – Her hair wild, her eyes red, her lips puckered oh so cutely, her beautiful tits shaking as she got her breathing under control, her flat stomach rippling with each breath, her bald pussy still quivering, droplets running down her ass to the puddle on the floor, her legs shaking as she began flattening them to the ground, he guessed as she struggled to sit up – He was sure he'd probably never see such a beautiful sight again.
Especially if she killed him.
Still, he may as well go out the way he was raised – a gentleman. He leaned forward and held out his hand to her. She stopped moving her arms to try to get the feeling back, and stared at his hand blankly. For a moment, he saw himself being flung to the ground, skull-first, and then she slowly, hesitatingly, reached out and held his hand. Her look was undecipherable, and Freddie felt himself become a little bit vulnerable. Still, he gently lifted her up, and she swayed a little when she got to her feet. He put a hand on her bare hip to steady her, and she tensed. He edged his hand down until he felt the waistband of her boxers and let go of her hand to pull them up. He quickly pulled up her pants as well, and before she even knew it, he slipped her shirt back down as well. She was looking down the whole time, and she glanced up to him.
Freddie stared back, ready for any challenge. His hands were still at the bottom of her shirt, resting on her waist. She made no move to push him away. Freddie stayed like that for a moment, trying to decipher her thoughts. Then he stepped back from her, and carefully untucked his shirt. Her eyes widened at the implication, but quickly grew confused as he began mussing up his hair. Freddie dropped down and made quick work of her shoes, faster than she could imagine anyone untying a knot, and he even had the courtesy to tie her shoes for her proper. Without a word, the boy went over and picked up his long forgotten books – thankfully, far from the puddle – and strode over to her locker to pick up her books as well. She stared blankly at him as he picked up each book with care and hefted them in each arm with ease. He walked back over to her, and before she could do anything, he passed her.
Freddie was ten feet away from her when she realized she didn't have a choice but to follow him. She frustratingly ran her hands through her hair and wiped the sweat from her forehead and the dried tears from her eyes. She knew she must look like a mess, but luckily no one paid much attention to her appearance.
It took her a second to realize that he had stopped at a restroom – the girls' restroom. He stared expectantly at her, and she hid her face in her hair as she quickly walked in alone.
She found herself staring into the mirror. She didn't exactly look like a mess, because she never wore makeup, but she did need to wash her face a bit. Her hair was a little wet and very tangled, but there was nothing she could do about that.
As she splashed some water into her face, half-contemplating if she should gargle some water or something, she caught a glimpse of the hair band on her wrist – A purple band Carly had given her when she was eight, that she almost never failed to wear. She slowly removed the band from her wrist and fashioned her long blonde hair into a large ponytail. Normally, she couldn't care less about her hair, but she was a bit paranoid that everyone would know… everything, just by looking at it. She wasn't going to let that happen.
She conveniently forgot about washing out her mouth as she stepped out of the restroom.
Freddie was leaning on the wall when she stepped out, and was surprised at the seemingly new look she took on. He smiled approvingly, and Sam swore that if her body betrayed her again and blushed, then she would at least try to follow through on breaking his arm.
"Twenty-five minutes late for class," he murmured, and he cleared his throat, Sam paused at the slight deepness of his voice, but it was gone just as fast. "A bit over an hour left." He finished, and she already found herself wondering if he had her in a false sense of security.
She found herself not worrying about that. What worried her was that she just might be looking forward to it.
But she still found herself looking directly at him, and cleared her throat, not trusting her voice. "Why?"
Freddie cocked his head to her. "It's probably the same answer you would have given when you were trying to break my arm not too long ago. Felt like it."
Sam was silent. Freddie began to worry. "Don't tell me I've broken you, Puckett."
She let out and angry huff, disappointed in herself. "You can't break me, Benson. No one can." She felt herself again when she said that, almost believing her words.
"Is that a challenge?"
"Maybe." It was out of her mouth before she realized what she said. Why did she even say that?
Freddie found himself smiling again, readjusting the books in his arms. Sam took a deep breath and walked past him.
"So how does it feel, hm? Knowing that I can't go to anyone about what happened? Knowing that you could probably abuse me any time you want, because I have no one to turn to. Not even Carly can know about this, and you knew that. You took advantage of that. Of me."
Freddie glared at her and dropped her books to grab her arm. He pulled her close to him, and she didn't fight him, but still glared right back. "Yeah, I took advantage of you, and you know what? I'm sorry. I obviously went too far, and while you were clearly into it, I'm still in the wrong." She flinched, but said nothing. "You can tell Carly. You can tell anyone. I'll admit to it. If you really want to, I'll turn myself in. You know where I live, where I sleep, so if you really think you're the victim, then do something about it." He lifted her arm in front of her face and released it. He put his arm into her open hand. "I know you've thought about it. Break it. I deserve it."
He waited a moment. He saw Sam's eyes flicker to his arm, then back to him. She didn't so much as squeeze his arm as she glared at him. He continued. "I took advantage of you, yeah. But do you want to know what I really took advantage of first? The fact that you thought you could take advantage of me." He gingerly removed his arm from her hand. "But I'll make it up to you. Next time, we'll just be taking advantage of each other."
A shock went through her as her eyes stared at him in disbelief. Freddie smiled wide as he picked back up her books and walked past her again. It was twenty feet before she began following him this time.
"What the hell is wrong with me," She found herself mumbling, not really asking.
"Maybe you're falling for me?" He asked with a completely curious tone, but the cheeky grin ruined it.
She tightened her fists, but restrained herself from punching him. That was a first. "Doubt it, Benson."
"Good. You had me worried there." He grinned. "Though the fact that you're actually calling me by my name makes you think."
She crossed her arms as she walked. "What? You miss the pet names?"
"Only if you miss the spankings."
She stopped walking. "You wouldn't dare, nub."
He swiftly turned around and raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't?" He stepped forward.
She gulped unnoticeably. If Freddie wasn't looking for it, he might've missed it. "You wouldn't."
"After what we've been through, you think I wouldn't?" He stepped a little closer.
"No chance in hell," she fired back, starting to feel as strong as her words.
"Bad word," he said absently, readjusting the books in his grip again.
"Go fuck yourself," she muttered, grinning evilly at him.
"Can't do that," Freddie muttered, stopping right in front of her. "If I learned how to do that, wouldn't have the time to do this." He found himself leaning down and catching her lips with his own, and only a second later, she responded with fervor. Her hands slowly went up and on his shoulders, and he thought she was going to push him away, but she found herself gripping tighter.
This kiss certainly wasn't as deep as the last, and only lasted 20 seconds. But when she released his shoulders and he parted from her, he had the feeling that this kiss impacted her the most.
Wordlessly, he turned around and walked forward to class, determined to actually get there this time. Sam was quick to follow this time.
She honestly didn't what the hell to do with this, or how to handle it, or how sick she was for even considering liking it, but for some reason, she just knew she would just regret it if she chose the opposite of whatever 'this' is.
She still felt like she had to say something. "I'm not your girlfriend, Benson."
He smirked. "I know. I just asked your best friend out half an hour ago. I might try again next week."
Her blood ran cold. "W-What?"
He was still smirking as they almost reached the class. "I know it's going to take some time, but soon you'll realize that you're my girlfriend as much as she will be. And if you really want to stop me… well, you know where I live."
They had stepped into the classroom; Mr. Howard was busy writing on the board, not paying attention. Over half the class looked up to see Freddie and Sam; Freddie holding her books and grinning, Sam wearing a ponytail, with a shell-shocked look on her features. They quickly spotted Carly, who had saved both of them a seat, one on each side. She looked very confused at Sam's new hairstyle, and a little relieved that they had finally appeared in class. Freddie nodded gratefully to her and placed Sam's books on her side of the table, and quickly found his way into his own seat. He rolled up his sleeves, took a quick glance at Carly's notes, and proceeded to write his own summarized notes on what was talked about this class.
Fortunately, he had already read the chapter.
Carly glanced over at Freddie as Sam took her seat. He didn't seem to be crushed by her rejection, even though he seemed to have had a slight obsession with her before. She took the chance to really look at him. His rolled up sleeves showed some toned muscle that really shouldn't have been on a boy his age, his hair was cutely mussed, something that she was pretty sure was new…
Perhaps when his obsession with her was completely over, or maybe lessened considerably, she would give him a chance.
She turned back to her best friend. She first noticed the band in her hair, the band that she had gotten her, and smiled a little. She wanted to know what was up, so she grabbed a blank sheet of paper, scooting her notes over to Freddie's side, who was grateful for it, and began writing.
Why were u n Freddie so late?
She silently passed the paper to Sam, who was staring off with a look of – confusion? Mysticism? – and quickly focused on the note. She read the note, for longer than Carly thought necessary, and held out her hand to her. Carly, used to the exchange, handed her a pen. Sam quickly wrote a note and handed it back.
What kinda stuff?
You know, things.
He was asking why I hated him, and I couldn't give him an answer. I'll be honest; he's a pretty cool dork – for a dork.
OMG! did u 2 actually bond?
Sam seemed to consider the question. She finally wrote down a reply.
So how did it get 2 me?
I gave him advice on what you like in a dude.
And? What did u tell him?
I told him you were pretty shallow, and not to even bother.
She wrote that part with a huge grin. Carly gaped at her. Sam toned down her smirk and continued writing.
Spencer said you're too young to date right now, but I've seen all the guys you've crushed on – male models. No matter the personality, they have to be 'hunky' as you put it. :-P
U mock my txtspk, yet u write out emotes.
Who doesn't like male models! They're
Sam smirked as she saw Carly erase the word 'hunky' and replaced the word.
Sure. But that's your only qualification for a good boyfriend.
What else matters?
No, not really. Funny, smart, friendly, companionable, all that.
Don't forget balls.
You know what I mean. Guts. Courage. I actually look for all of that in a dude. You write out your name with their last name before you can even get to personality.
Well, I can't date them!
But you can still get to know them, right?
Carly stared at the paper, for a good, long moment. Sam began to get worried, until Carly began writing again.
Did you get to know Freddie?
Well, we were gone for 30 minutes, so I guess a conversation had to have taken place.
Stop the sarcasm.
Stop the dumb questions. :-P
Carly flipped over the paper for more space, and without writing a word, passed it back to Sam. She sighed.
Yeah. We talked. Like I said. Cool dork.
Cool enough 2 date?
If you can look past the dork part, go right ahead.
I meant 4 u.
She read that note way too long for just two letters, a word, and a number, so she was prepared to not take Sam's next words at face value. So she was fairly surprised at what Sam wrote next.
Don't know the dude that well. He pisses me off, I don't deny that, but he showed me a side I never knew he had. But, like I said, I can't look past the dork part.
Probably. Your win ;-)
Not probably. I was just kidding earlier. I told him to ask you out again soon.
U did? What's the point of that? I'm not allowed 2 date.
You can still watch movies on the couch. Just don't be mad when I'm at your place. Date or no date, mama likes a nice HDTV and a fridge.
Then you'll be on the date with us.
Then we'll share him. You keep him distracted ;-) while I eat his food. All I need is a good night kiss with some ham.
You know what? Fine.
As she slid the paper over, she turned to Freddie, who had by now completely caught up with the class. "Freddie?" she whispered.
"Hm?" He asked, mostly focused on the teacher. It was then that she noticed – no sick puppy dog act. She almost found herself missing it. Almost.
"Busy Friday night?"
He glanced over to her. "Don't think so. What's up?"
"Movie Night at my place?"
"Crappy rom-com or B horror film?"
"I'll be there. Six o' clock?"
"It's a date!" She smiled.
Freddie raised an eyebrow. "Bad choice of words?"
"…Huh." He smiled and turned back to his work.
Carly turned towards a grinning Sam. She held the paper up.
Mrs. Carly Benson?
She snatched the paper from her, and sneaked a glance back at Freddie; he was paying attention to the teacher. She covered her hand over the paper as she wrote.
Nah. I'd be more of the Puckett-Benson type, anyway.
She had to blink at the message a few times, making sure what she was reading was right. She looked up to see Sam laughing into her hand.
I know. :-D
Soon enough, class ended, and Mr. Howard never noticed Sam and Freddie entering class late. All three friends had different classes next.
As Sam set her books down on the table in front of her in class, she saw the paper they had used as the note sheet. She was about to ball it up and put it in her pocket when she saw a message written in the end in red ink, and completely unfamiliar handwriting:
I'll have to get you back for that, Mrs. Puckett-Benson.
- Cool Dork.
She stared at the note for a long time. She licked her lips nervously.
She didn't know what part she liked more – his name, her name, or the promise of – more.