For the next week or so nothing was mentioned between the two women about the kiss. It hung between them like a guilty secret as they continued to spend time together, getting to know each other and finding more and more that, outside of their sexuality, they had shared interests and values. Helen, having been fed by Sam not once but twice, felt she ought to return the favour and did so first with a fish pie, and again with a meal of cold meats and salad. Then, one Thursday, Sam suggested that they go out to the local pub and have a go at the quiz night. It was agreed that Helen would call round for Sam at seven thirty to give them plenty of time to get there and find a decent table.
As ever, when she was to be with Sam, Helen felt a flutter of excitement as she got ready, it wasn't just the quiz night she was looking forward to; it was spending time with her new friend. She told herself to stop being so silly, Sam was just a friend, someone with whom she enjoyed their time together, not some sort of schoolgirl crush, but that didn't stop it being special, something she did look forward to, that somehow the times she spent with Sam were the bright spots in her life. She glanced at the clock; she was still far too early but she wouldn't wait, she couldn't wait and, by seven o'clock she was knocking on Sam's front door. An upstairs window opened and Sam's tousled head popped out.
"Hi, Helen! You're very early and I'm nowhere near ready; I'll be ages yet," Sam called down.
"Sorry, I'll call back later." Helen felt foolish and embarrassed.
"Nonsense! Now you're here come upstairs and chat. You can keep me company whilst I change. Let yourself in; the kitchen door's unlocked." Sam, as ever, wasn't taking no for an answer.
Helen went through the ginnel, let herself in by the back door and stood in Sam's kitchen.
"Come on up, I'm in my bedroom." Sam called down and Helen set of up the stairs. She still felt a little sheepish for arriving so early but, after all, Sam had invited her in. She knocked gently on the bedroom door and went on through to find Sam sat at her dressing table using the only chair in the room so Helen, at her friends bidding, perched on the edge of the bed. As they chatted Helen looked around at her surroundings. The room was a mirror image of her own bedroom and suffered from the same diminutive dimensions but there the similarities ended; there wasn't a trace of chintz, the overall design was functional rather than decorative and the only embellishments were a rather disturbing art print and, hanging on a hook below, a pair of heavy leather wrist cuffs complete with connecting chain. Helen was at first shocked, then surprised, and then intrigued to see the cuffs hanging so openly. She couldn't help staring, wondering how much they were for decoration and how much they were actually used.
"Admiring my wrist cuffs?" Sam asked with a laugh.
"They're... They're very unusual," Helen replied getting up and taking them off their hook.
"A present from an old flame. A memento of some fun times together. It almost broke my heart when she had to return home to the States."
"Don't you mind them being on show like that; you don't mind what people might think?" Sam asked.
"Hey, I've never been shy about my sexuality and, anyway, you've got to be pretty close to me before you're invited into the inner sanctum so it's only close friends like you who get to see them and they all know what I'm like. Look, amuse yourself for a while, will you. I've got to take a shower; I'm still all sweaty from the day. Won't be a moment or two." and, without another word, Sam left the room and, moments later, Helen heard through the walls the sound of the shower running next door.
The cuffs felt heavy in Helen's hands and she couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to wear them. She turned them over, closely examining every detail; these were no toy but the real deal, the thick leather was well padded inside so that they would hold firmly but comfortably and, rather than buckles they had a system where a metal loop fitted through a slot in the leather held by a padlock which could be clicked shut, quite easily. Click! Almost without realising what she was doing she had fitted a cuff around her left wrist and, having done so, Helen felt compelled to go further. She looked around and noticed that the bed had an iron latticework headboard perfect for attaching the cuffs to. She knelt on the bed and wove the chain through the ironwork so that, when she fitted the other cuff to her right wrist the chain held her securely. She felt entranced, being chained like this was sending the strangest sensations through her, a mixture of fear and desire. The keys to the padlocks still hung from the hook on the wall and, with a thud, she realised just how helpless she was, how she would have to wait for Helen to release her. She pulled against the chain, testing how firmly she was held, how there was no way the wrought iron headboard was going to give and, try as she might, the cuffs fitted snugly around her wrists and would not release her. Her heart was pounding; her breathing was short and nervous. She...
"Well, well, well. What have we here?" Sam, wrapped in a towelling dressing gown, had returned from her shower.
"I just... I thought..." Helen's blushes burnt in her cheeks.
"You just thought you'd try my cuffs out for size, see how they fitted? Well, how do they feel?"
"They're... fine. Look, Sam, can you let me free now." Helen was beginning to panic.
"No, I don't think I will. I've never been able to resist an attractive woman chained to my bedstead and I don't see why I should start now." Sam's tone was light but there was a hint of steel underneath. "Now why don't we get you arranged properly?"
"Sam, don't be silly. I was just mucking around, I just wondered what they felt like. Please, let me go, I'm serious."
"You're serious? Well so am I. You've been playing the little tease ever since I met you. You're all 'Oh, no Sam, I'm not like that' but you know and I know you are like that; you're just need a little persuading. I don't think for one moment that it's an accident that you're all chained up; I think you wanted to be caught like that; you wanted the excuse to give in to me. Well, now that I've got my chance I'm not going to give it up just because you've got cold feet.
