Step by Step

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.

"Please, Sam, I didn't mean to..." Helen pleaded.

"You didn't mean to..." Sam mocked. "I don't care what you did or didn't mean; you're chained up to MY bed in MY house and that means you obey MY orders. If you don't get into position NOW I will give you such a spanking you won't sit down for a week."

There was a long pause whilst the two women just stared at each other. Helen was deeply conflicted, her thoughts a jumble of confused snippets. She hadn't meant to... She didn't want to... Sam looked so stern... She'd been so naughty playing with the cuffs in the first instance... She pleaded to Sam with her eyes but Sam just stood there with her arms folded and shook her head. Sam's words echoed in her head. Was she right, that this is what she wanted? Had she been a tease? Had she been leading Sam on? Did she deserve the spanking Sam was threatening? She knew if she didn't stand up to Sam, if she didn't insist on being freed, then she's be crossing some sort of line and that in itself was disturbing but, and this was the sticking point, she somehow couldn't bring herself to say 'no'.

"I'm sorry Sam." She replied at last. "I don't know what to do"

"Then just lie down on your back. Let me do the rest." Sam's voice was calm again. She guided Helen down onto the bed until she was lying full length, her wrists still chained to the headboard, her toes nearly overhanging the end. Then she got on the bed and lay down beside her, cuddling up to her.

"Look, Helen," She said as she gently stoked Helen's hair, calming her down. "I know you're pretty confused about all this, you're not sure what you want or whether it's right to want it. I guess you feel a little scared as well. Tell me, do you trust me?"

"Yes, Sam, I think I do," Helen replied after a pause.

Well, why don't we try this? I'm going to have my wicked way with you and you can't stop me, and if you can't stop me it's not your fault, you're not to blame, you don't have to worry about it. So you just lie back and let me have my fun; you never know, you might enjoy it too. OK?" Sam waited for Helen's nod before she reached down and undid the button holding the waistband of Helen's Jeans and slid her hand inside. Helen flinched as she felt Sam's fingers stroking her stomach, sliding under the elastic of her panties but never straying too far beneath. All the time Sam watched Helen's face, watching her gradually accept this invasion, watching her gradually submit.

Once she was satisfied that Helen was no longer resisting she stopped, sat up, got off the bed, and started to remove Helen's clothes. Her shoes slipped off easily enough but the jeans were more of a struggle. As Sam tugged at the waistband part of Helen wanted to help, wanted to lift her buttocks off the bed to make it easier but she hung onto the idea that, if she didn't help, if she didn't acquiesce, then what ever happened wasn't her fault. Eventually Sam got the jeans out from under Helen's hips and slid them down her legs, pulled them free, and neatly folded them away.

"What pretty little panties. How sweet." Sam commented. "Sorry, but they've got to go as well."

The jeans were one thing, panties were another but, having gone this far Helen felt it would be churlish to call a stop. She turned her head away and bit her lip repeating to herself the mantra that if she didn't actually help then she wasn't acquiescing. Meanwhile Sam was having a bit of a struggle slipping the panties over Helen's hips but it was nothing compared to the jeans and it didn't take long before she was lying there naked from the waist down. There was no way Sam could remove Helen's tee shirt so she simply pushed it up a bit exposing Helen's breasts.

"That's better. Now then, spread your legs apart." Again the edge of steel in Sam's voice.

"Wha..." Helen had not been expecting that.

"Come along now, do as you're told. I strongly advise you not to keep me waiting if you want to avoid a spanking."

Again their eyes locked, again there was a brief struggle of wills but Helen could see that Sam was giving orders, not suggestions, and that the threat of a spanking was very real. Furthermore, the little girl within her was reacting to Sam's dominance and her automatic reaction was to obey. Slowly, without once taking her eyes off Sam, she moved her legs apart, opening herself up.

"There's a good little girl, that's better." Sam's tone made Helen feel like she was back in school, up before the headmistress, in trouble for some unspecified offence. "Now you just lie there and think about how open and vulnerable you are whilst I get ready. Don't go away now."

Sam went back to her dressing table and reached for her hairdryer. She was secretly delighted. She had been a little concerned as to how far she was pushing Helen outside her comfort zone but a glistening dampness along Helen's pussy lips spoke volumes about her true feelings, how, despite her initial protestations, her body was responding and her heart and mind would surely follow.

Meanwhile Helen was struggling to lie still. Every fibre of her body wanted to close her legs, to roll over, to hide herself away, to stop lying in this disgraceful pose, so open, so wanton, so offered up. It wouldn't have been so bad if her legs were chained in the same way as her wrists but they weren't, the only thing holding them apart was her compliance and the vague threat of a spanking. Indeed, the very thought of a spanking just added to the turmoil. She had no doubts that Sam meant it, that she could and would deliver a spanking that was swift and painful. More complex was her anticipation of that possible spanking; she feared the pain but somehow would welcome the punishment. Maybe a spanking would quell the feelings she was finding harder and harder to deny, the feeling that wanted to be here, the feeling that wanted more.

Back at her dressing table Sam was taking her time, taking meticulous care about getting ready. Helen was exasperated by this slowness, frustrated beyond belief by the waiting. A couple of times Sam got up and went to her wardrobe but each time she did so she ignored Helen, pottering about as if the room were empty.

In fact Sam was well aware of the turmoil with Helen. All the time she had been keeping an eye on her with discreet glances in the mirror. She knew only too well how the waiting was part of the game, how it would intensify the feelings within her victim. She watched as Helen's hips quivered with the strain of keeping her legs apart. She'd known plenty of playmates who were such wanton sluts that they loved lying there with their legs wide open, begging to be used; how much more delicious to play with a shy one like Helen, to force her to act against her modesty. Eventually she could spin it out no longer, it was time to get down to business. She got up and sat down on the edge of the bed, reached over and gently stroked Helen's calves.

"Are you a good girl?" Sam asked softly.

"Please, Sam..." Helen begun but Sam cut her short.

"I think it's best if you call me Mistress when you're being punished." She said.

"Punished, Mistress?" Helen was confused.

"Yes, punished. You've been having naughty thoughts, haven't you." Sam's voice was steady, even.

"Naughty thoughts, Mistress? I don't know what you mean." Helen's perplexity was only half feigned.

"Oh, yes you do; don't lie to me." Sam's hand had been steadily working its way up Helen's leg and was now stroking her inner thigh, tantalisingly close. Helen was having to really struggle to stay still. "I think this dirty little girl has been thinking about all kind of naughty things and got herself all aroused and, if we have a look, we'll see that her lust is quite obvious. Shall we see?" Sam's finger tips eased inside Helens vaginal lips. "Oh yes, just as I thought, your pussy is all wet; this very naughty little girl has got herself all worked up with her dirty little thoughts. Now, what shall we do with her?"

Softly Sam ran her fingertips through the slick folds of skin, teasing Helen open, feeling the moistness that attested to her awakening excitement. As Sam had guessed calling Helen a 'dirty little girl' with 'naughty thoughts' had struck a chord deep within her and that, combined with Sam's clever fingers were taking Helen to places she had never been before.

Sam moved so that she was lying down beside Helen, their bodies next to each other, her outstretched hand now resting across Helen's pubic mound, her fingers working in slow circles around the top of Helen's slit.

"And does my naughty little girl like that? Does she like her Mistress playing with her? Does she need a good spanking for all the naughty thoughts she's having." Sam's voice maintained its soft, almost hypnotic tone. "Well, child, answer me."

Helen could barely think, let alone speak. Her few fumbled attempts at playing with herself had been so racked with guilt that they had been joyless and Rob's clumsy groping had never been even vaguely erotic but this, this insistent rhythm, was overwhelming her, leaving her powerless to resist. The last shreds of her guilt knew she ought to fight it, knew she ought to say no but the little girl inside her knew she was naughty, knew she did have naughty thoughts and knew she had to submit to her mistresses will, to take her medicine, for good or for ill.

All the time Sam was increasing the intensity and Helen couldn't help but respond, moving her hips, pushing back, riding Sam's fingers as much as they were riding her.

"That's it, that's the way." Sam urged. "Now we're seeing what you're really like, what a dirty, dirty little girl you are, how you need a damn good spanking to teach you not to play with yourself, to show you what we do to filthy little things like you to teach them to behave. Admit it, confess to me how much you like to play with yourself."

"Yes, I... Yes, I... OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" Being ordered to confess was the trigger and enough to push Helen over the edge. Her body bucked and thrashed about, pulling against the chains that held her wrists as Sam fought to stay with her, riding the waves, taking her all the way to paradise until she was spent, exhausted and emotional drained.

When the turmoil finally subsided Helen felt more than a little embarrassed but also, confusingly, sated in a way she'd never known before. She was also trembling like a leaf and she couldn't help but cry, deep wracking sobs that shook her body. Still straining against the wrist cuffs she rolled towards Sam who hugged her close and kissed away the tears until Helen responded and kissed her back and they lay together, sharing the moment, sharing each other.

It was Sam who broke away first, pulling back and looking lovingly on the still bound form of her friend.

"Are you OK?" She asked tenderly.

"Yes, just a bit overwhelmed. I've never... I didn't know... Oh, Sam, it was all a bit much and I don't know how I feel about it but," Helen bushed at the recollection, "I can't deny that... Well, I've never felt anything like that before." Helen glanced up at her wrists.

"Yeah, lets get you unlocked, it's time we made a move or we won't be there for the start of the quiz." Sam got off the bed and reached for the keys to the cuffs.

"What about you?" Helen asked as Sam undid the locks. "I mean, it feels a bit one sided."

"Don't you worry about me." Sam replied. "I'll get my turn soon enough. Now hurry up and put your jeans on or we'll be late."

Helen was too overcome to hurry but, even so, it didn't take long to put on her panties, jeans and shoes and, ready at last, the two women set out for the pub. Sam had a spring in her step and a twinkle in her eye but Helen was more thoughtful. She couldn't shake the memory of all the things Sam had said to her. Sure, those magic fingers had been the centre of her pleasure but they would have been nothing without the words. What was it about being a 'naughty girl' that got to her so much, and the sheer intensity of her climax brought on by the torrent of abuse from Sam. And then there was the whole spanking thing, sure Sam hadn't actually done it but she'd threatened often enough and that had been very much part of the turn on. Helen gave a little shiver as the memory washed through her and Sam, misunderstanding, put her arm around her as they hurried down the road.