"Sure, put her on."
I gave the phone to Colleen, who passed me the peeler and a half peeled potato. I peeled potatoes while Colleen explained where we'd been (out shopping was all she said, thank God,) and told her that I was helping to fix supper. Colleen took back the peeler and offered me the phone.
"Rachel, you be good while you're there. It's not a school night, so I'll expect you home at eleven."
"Right, mom. 'Bye!"
Supper turned out to be beef stew, and after today's workout, I really tucked into it, causing Colleen to chuckle. "Well, Heather, your girlfriend *eats* like a boy, anyway,"
"Gee, I hope not," Heather grinned.
Colleen flinched at that, and I had to step in. "Heather, Your mom is *trying* real hard, but she's not going to be able to deal with this casually. I mean, imagine yourself twenty years from now finding out *your* baby girl is into something that pushes *your* 'nausea button'. My mom actually turns a little green whenever she's forced to acknowledge an openly gay person. I think she's imagining what they do in bed and it makes her ill. I don't know *how* I'm going to break it to her that her daughter's in love with a girl."
Heather swallowed hard and looked like she was going to cry. "I'm sorry, mom, I thought you were okay with this."
"I'm getting there, baby. And I *highly* approve of Rachel, here," Colleen hugged Heather,
"Okay, girls, into the living room. Class is in session."
We moved into the living room pretty quickly, with Heather turning on the lights and closing the blinds, while Colleen emptied the bags onto the coffee table, neatly piling things by category; clothing, cuffs and collars, gags and blindfolds, padlocks, and finally, a spool of black rope.
"Right then. Strip down to bras and panties, and we'll start with a *very* brief anatomy lesson." As we stripped off, she continued. "I'll be back in a second, I have to grab a butt plug for Rachel, here," She took off up the stairs. Heather and I were examining the clothing, long gloves, corsets, stockings, and high heeled shoes with an ankle strap that seemed to be built for a padlock rather than a buckle. Next, I looked at the cuffs and collars. Pretty brushed stainless, lined with neoprene, in various sizes. I figured wrist, ankle, upper arms, and collar. Next pile was gags and toys. Two of those clear gags in the pile, and I finally had a chance to feel that bag that would be strapped into my mouth. It was soft, smooth, and pliable, like soft bubble gum. Blindfolds were discs of soft leatheron a strap, and there were two vibrators and a butt plug there. I was contemplating these when Colleen came back with another butt plug.
"Let's get started then. Rachel, put that down and come here." She traced my arm with a fingertip as she spoke. "Mostly, you'll probably use rope, so you should know about safety. Inside the wrists and elbows, here and here, the blood vessels and tendons, not to mention nerve clusters, are close to the skin, and you don't want to compress them too heavily. The radial nerve, here, is particularly vulnerable, and can leave one with serious pain for life. That's what makes handcuffs so dangerous in the hands of novices. Also, just the hazards involved in cutting off the circulation should be cause to be very careful in binding your lover. Best is to be able to run a finger between the skin and bindings, but even then, make sure the limbs aren't darkening, and be sure to check for feeling, especially in the fingers and toes." As she was talking she was bending and pulling my arms this way and that, and smiled when she just got my elbows to touch one another behind me.
"You're in luck, Heather, your.. your girlfriend is very flexible. Moving on, gags are a little risky too, mainly because in some people they live up to their name; they incite the gag reflex, and a person can, gross as this sounds, drown in their own vomit. Also, they block off a potential breathing passage, and I don't think I need to explain how *that* can be a problem." I shuddered at the thought of puking while gagged. "Next up is the throat. Don't touch it. Period. It's *way* too risky to play with. Same goes for plastic bags and asphyxiation games. Let's see.. Neither one of you has breasts big enough to bind, but I'll bet your nipples are really sensitive, so maybe we should introduce you slowly to clamps. They can be fun, or pure hell, depending how sensitive you are. That just about wraps it up. If you want lessons in other BDSM activities, let me know. Later. Now, though, I'd like you to model the clothing on the table there. Green for Rachel, blue for Heather."
We shed the rest of our clothes, then Heather squirmed into the ice blue satin corset, then turned her back to me. "Tighten the laces, please, then I'll do you." I tightened them good, paying close attention to the little groans Heather was making, and the grimace on her face. When I figured she'd had enough, I tied the laces. "God, that's tight! I don't think I can bend at all. Breathing's no picnic, either. You, girl, are going to get yours!"
I gulped as she held the deep green corset out to me. "Can't we just..."
"Now, Rache. You get used to it quick, except the short breaths you have to take."
I sighed and pulled the crisp, smooth satin around myself, hooking up the half a thousand clasps in the front. Heather had an evil look on her face as she turned me around and reached for the laces. This thing started squeezing me, hard, just below the ribs, pulling my already flat tummy in even more and compressing my waist. The soft groans Heather had let out were involuntary, I discovered, as the air was being forced out of me. The tight squeeze felt good, though, because Heather had done it to me.
That little romantic twinge made me want to laugh, but I could barely get enough air for a giggle, as Heather finished lacing me in. Suspenders slapped my thighs, and I thought of the stockings, one pair in blue mist, the other in green. No way we'd be able to put those on ourselves, we'd just have to help each other. Heather smiled as I mentioned this.
"Cool. That means we get to caress one another's legs."
