I caught my panty-sniffing step-brother rummaging through my drawers and drooling over my smtherbox—so I played dumb, told him it was a “special spa chair,” and coaxed the little pervert inside. Click—my cuffs snap around his wrists. Game over, bitch. I lower my 52-inch ass slowly, sealing the box until his nose wedges between my sweaty crack. No air, no escape, just the wet sound of him gasping into my panties while I bounce, grind and fart right in his stupid face. He tries to beg—my cheeks muffle every word. When I finally lift up, his face is red, dripping, and branded with the imprint of my asshole. Welcome to your new bedroom, step-bro.