Step By Step Ch. 03

At a little past eleven o'clock the two women were making their way home from the pub. It had been a good evening; they'd done well in the quiz and had a good laugh. It turned out that Sam was one of the regulars and they had met up with her friends and been in good company all night. As they made their way down the badly lit streets Helen realised they were holding hands. It had seemed so natural she hadn't even realised it at the time and now, well it still felt right.

However, all was not well with Helen. The nearer she got to home the more her anxiety grew about where her relationship with Sam was going. She'd been foolishly indulgent, she'd let Sam sweet talk her into behaving appallingly, into letting her base desires get the better of her moral upbringing. Her curiosity had got control of her and she'd behaved abominably, rutting with Sam like some sort of animal. And then, in the heat of the moment, she'd agreed to more, agreed to return the favour. As they turned the corner into their street she began to panic; what if Sam wanted them to go to bed together now? What if she insisted? They drew up outside their adjoining front doors.

"Thanks, Helen; it's been a lovely evening. I have enjoyed myself." Sam turned to Helen and gave her a demure kiss on the cheek. It was as if their session in bed had never happened.

"I had fun too," Helen replied slightly shaken at being let off the hook.

"Come round tomorrow night," Sam went on. "Nothing fancy; I'll cook something nice and we'll get a DVD from Blockbusters."

"Are you sure?" Helen asked. "I don't want to take up all your time."

"Don't be silly, I want you to take up all my time. I like having you around, I wouldn't have offered otherwise. Just bring yourself and a bottle of white wine. I'll do the rest."

"I'd love to. See you tomorrow then." Helen reached for her front door key.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Sam echoed and the two women went inside their respective houses.

Helen snuggled up in bed and thought about the evening. It wasn't that going out with Sam had been that special, it was just a pub quiz after all, but any time spent with Sam seemed to make everything special. It had been fun meeting her friends, a very mixed bunch with varying sexual orientation but they seemed to have accepted her as one of their own without any questions. They'd had a good laugh along with the friendly rivalry of the quiz and she'd gained kudos when she had been the only one who'd known that Juliet was a Capulet, not a Montague.

That led on to the far more complex issue of what had happened earlier in Sam's bedroom. Much as she'd like to, Helen couldn't lay the blame on Sam; she, herself, had started it by trying on the cuffs in the first place. She also knew that, had she really objected, that Sam would never have gone so far without her consent, that, bound or not, it hadn't been rape. But maybe rape was what she wanted. With a jolt of comprehension Helen realised that the thought of being raped, of being ravished, of being taken was deeply, darkly, disturbingly thrilling; it sent shivers though her body, shivers which centred in her groin. A kaleidoscope of images went through her mind, images of being bound, held, forced open, forced to perform unspeakable acts; and, far from horrifying her, these images were turning her on, making her hot, making her heart race. Look at her response to being chained; never before had she climaxed, never before had she felt the way she had as Sam had brought her to orgasm and she was perceptive enough to realise that it hadn't just been Sam's busy fingers, it had been the restraining cuffs and Sam's words as well. Whether she liked it or not, now that he had tasted it, she wanted, nay needed, to feel like that again.

And in the middle of all these thoughts was Sam, sweet Sam. She'd been brought up to think of women like Sam, and some of her friends from the pub, as perverts, as dirty, as unworthy, as unsafe to leave around children and, now that she was beginning to get to know them, Helen's mind revolted at such thoughts. If neither Sam nor her friends were perverts then maybe... maybe this deep desire within her wasn't so evil either... As long as it was with Sam... Sam would understand, she could trust Sam... Her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.

The next evening, on her way home from work, Helen got off the bus one stop early so as to pass by the off license. She picked out a Chilean Chardonnay which seemed to fit the bill and hurried back to put it in the fridge. Then she went upstairs to bathe and get changed. As she poured some bath oils into to foaming water she felt a bit silly getting all dressed up just to go round for dinner and she didn't want to over do it but she did want to look her best. She had even nipped out in her lunch break and bought a new matching set of bra and panties, not that Sam would see them, would she?

Dressed at last, she looked at herself in the mirror, wondering how Sam could possibly describe her as 'attractive'. Still, the light cotton dress she'd chosen was quite flattering and she didn't look too bad. She went downstairs, grabbed the wine from the fridge and headed round to Sam's. When she got there the front door was ajar and her knock was answered by a shout from the kitchen to come on through. There she found Sam busy with Salmon steaks in a white sauce, new potatoes and petit pois. Helen put the wine in the fridge and asked how she could help.

There was an easy harmony as the two women worked together, laying the table, cooking the food, pouring the wine. Helen found she could relax and just be herself without having to watch out for the gaffes she sometimes made which, when she had been living with Rob, he had been so quick to pounce on. It wasn't just that Sam didn't criticise, she also made it clear that she found Helen interesting and her views worth listening and that, in itself, made Helen feel valued and appreciated.

After the meal they went through to the lounge; Sam sorted out the DVD and they sat together, side by side on the sofa. It had been a long week and an exhausted Helen was glad that they were not going out on the town; it felt good to slip off her shoes and slide her feet onto the cushions next to her and, if that meant she was leaning up against Sam, well, that's what friends do, isn't it? The film was engrossing and Helen hardly noticed when Sam shifted slightly, slipping her arm around Helen's shoulders; there was something about the physical contact that felt safe, reassuring, and, when Sam started stroking Helen's hair, that was good as well.

The film finished and Sam, without moving more than was necessary reached for the remotes, turned the TV off and put on some soft music. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she reached down and kissed Helen gently on the lips. Without even thinking about it Helen responded, turning her head to meet Sam's, parting her lips, surrendering. The film, the wine, and now the music had all added together to relax Helen into a semi hypnotic state where any qualms about what she was doing were simply meaningless. Furthermore the kiss was electric; Helen felt as if every nerve in her body was alive. The soft, tender touch of lip upon lip was somehow magnified, the room swam and she felt a little giddy. With no rush, no hurry and definitely not breaking the kiss, Sam slid down until they were lying together, side by side, along the sofa.

With the change in position came a change in approach. Sam now moved on to kissing Helen's neck, throat and shoulders, teasing at the skin, each touch awakening an ever growing need within Helen. The dress was, like everything else in Helen's wardrobe, somewhat demure and its limited neckline was restricting the areas Sam could get at. As Sam reached for her collar to gently pull the material aside her arm brushed against Helen's breasts, adding their message to the tumult within.

Helen's head leant back, offering herself to Sam's roving kisses, wanting more, wanting something to satisfy the growing frustration inside. Sam, sweet Sam, was being kind, being gentle, when what she wanted was to be taken, ravaged. The soft tender kisses had set her on fire, a fire that could only be quenched by passion. Again and again the material was pushed to one side but, even stretched to the limit, it still restricted Sam's kisses. Eventually Helen couldn't stand the frustration any more.

"Please, please, Sam..." Helen's voice pleaded.

"What's up?" Sam asked as she lifted herself up by her arms, looking down on Helen who reached up and grasped the neckline of her dress with both hands.

"Please, Sam..." Helen repeated as, with a sharp tug, she ripped the neck of her dress open, tearing the flimsy material.

"Is this what you want?" Sam asked as she reached down and finished the job, tearing the dress right down to the waistline.

"Yes. Yes, please, Mistress." Helen whispered in response.

Sam took Helen's wrists and held them above her head. Then, her access now unrestrained, returned to kissing Helen's body. Any remnants of the dress were torn away and the flimsy bra was pushed up exposing Helen's breasts. Sam teased at the nipples with her lips and then with her teeth, gradually increasing the pressure until it caused Helen to cry out. The sharp stabbing pain was sending lightning bolts through her, lightning bolts which ran straight to her groin. Although Sam was no longer actually holding her wrists Helen could no more move her arms than if they were held there by steel hawsers, she was so deep in the moment. Then, just as it all reached a crescendo, Sam stopped and knelt up, her knees straddling her victim.

"And now it's my turn." She said as she stripped off her tee shirt and bra. "Show me how much you want to kiss my breasts."

Sam leant forward, grasping Helen's wrists, once again holding them above her head. This very movement had done half the work, her breasts were already poised over Sam's head and it was a simple movement to lower herself so that her right breast was offered to Helen's waiting mouth.

The last time Helen had had her lips around a nipple it had been as a baby at her mother's teat. Now she was feeding a very different appetite. Unsure of exactly what she was supposed to do she tried to imagine what she would want if the roles were reversed, tenderly teasing out the nipple with her lips, feeling it harden and lengthen. Softly she grasped it with her teeth, trying to gauge just how hard to grasp, and she was rewarded with a whispered 'that's right -- like that' from Sam who was increasingly working her groin against Helen, her physical response a more certain indicator than her words could ever be. It wasn't long, however, before Sam pulled away and with and imperious 'Bed! Now!' stood up, and, taking Helen by the hand, almost dragged her off upstairs.

As soon as they got there Sam grabbed Helen passionately tearing off the remnants of her dress, removing her bra and sliding down her panties. Then she almost threw Helen onto the bed before sliding down her own jeans and panties and climbing onto the bed to straddle her. For a moment or two their eyes locked and there seemed to be an understanding that somewhere within the role play there were two people who cared very much for each other, that wanted to share something special.

Slowly Helen raised her arms above her head and glanced across at the cuffs hanging from the hook. Sam bent down and kissed her.

"Not tonight." She whispered. "Let's see what it's like without the cuffs."

Again Sam started kissing Helen, starting with her lips and moving south. Helen had never felt anything like this before, the symphony of kisses ranging from the lightest touch of a butterfly's wing to the violent edge of passion, but, more than that, it was where she was being kissed. Her neck, her shoulders, her torso, her belly, her arms, her legs; in fact anywhere except for her breasts and groin were covered and Helen was discovering whole new areas which seemed to be directly connected to her core by networks of tiny golden wires, each one singing its own tune of pleasure.

And then Sam started to concentrate on the tops of her thighs, the bottom of her belly, moving ever closer to her centre. It was obvious where this was leading and Helen was getting increasingly apprehensive. Oral sex had always been firmly one of the 'thou shall not's, a degrading act performed by perverts. Rob had tried to get her to do it and she'd always refused. Surely thought Helen she can't be going to kiss me there? It's not clean, it's where I pee from, it's disgust...

With a shock Helen felt her labia eased apart and, except for her submissive role, she would have objected. However, those objections were soon pushed away as wave upon wave of exquisite sensation flowed through her body. Yesterday Sam's fingers had been bliss, today her tongue was on a different level altogether. Nothing could have prepared her for just how wonderful this felt. Unbidden her arms dropped from above her head and she caressed her rib cage, her sides, her breasts. She could hardly believe the intensity, the power the feeling of being overwhelmed that was centred around her groin. Sam's tongue had settled down to a steady rhythm and each beat of that drum was pushing her higher, higher until it became almost unbearable, a tension that had to give, a pressure that couldn't be resisted, she was losing control, and then...

"Oh My God! Oh, Sam! Oh, Yes! Oh, Yes! Oh YESSSS!!" The wave broke, Helen arched her back as years and years of suppressed emotion welled from her. For a moment or two all she was aware of was an ecstatic state of paradise, Sam's fingers had been good but this was better, so much better... until, unable to hold it any longer she let the wave break and sank back down onto the bed.

Slowly she recovered full consciousness to find Sam lying beside her, holding her, stroking her hair.

"Wow, that was... that was..." Helen was still overcome by emotions.

"Shhh..." Sam replied. "I think the whole street knows just how good that one was."

"Oh my God! Was I loud?" Helen replied, horrified.

"Just a bit, but don't worry about it. Anyway, get your breath back and then it's my turn."

Helen was overtaken by another rash of nerves. Lying there whilst Sam had kissed her 'down there' had been one thing, she could, at least, pretend that it was being forced on her but now it was going to be the other way around. She could see that this was only fair, that to refuse would be not only churlish but selfish as well, but kissing someone where they peed, surely that would be disgusting.

"Sam, I don't think I can?" she said hesitantly.

"Oh? Why not?" Sam asked.

"It's just... It's just... I don't know how." There, she'd found the perfect excuse.

"Well I'm just going to have to teach you then," Sam countered.

"Look, Sam, I know you've just done it but it feels wrong, it will be all yucky, kissing where you pee. I don't think I can." Helen felt as if she was being forced into a corner.

"You don't know what it tastes like, do you?" Sam was obviously not going to let this one go.

"No, of course not," Helen replied.

"Then why don't you find out? Look, let's make this easy, have a taste first. Put your finger inside me and then see what it's like." Sam's voice was firm, she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"But..." Helen prevaricated, trying to put off the inevitable.

"Look, you're new, you're nervous, so I'm being easy on you but if you don't do as your told right now I'll put you over my knee and spank you till you scream and you'll still have to do it. Is that understood?" This time the edge of steel was all too apparent.

"Yes, Mistress," Helen replied meekly.

Sam rolled onto her back and took Helen's hand, sliding it down her tummy moving towards her groin. Tentatively Helen continued, pushing past Sam's pubic hairs, feeling for her labia and, having found them, slipping her forefinger between the fleshy folds. It took an effort of will to continue; she had never touched another woman like this before, after all she had hardly touched herself like this beyond the requirements of hygiene and, as her finger probed inside, she was surprised to find out how slippery it all was.

"Go on, further than that," Sam urged. Helen complied, feeling with her finger the entrance to Sam's vagina and slipping in as far as her first knuckle. It felt pleasantly strange, warm and smooth; she even probed around a bit, pushing her finger just a little further in.

"There, that wasn't too hard was it? Ok, now it's time to have a taste. See how 'yucky' it really is." Helen took Karen's wrist, removed her hand and brought it up to her face. Karen's eyes met Sam's and she reached out with her tongue and licked the very tip of her finger.

"More than that. Go on, really have a taste." Sam was relentless.

Helen took the plunge and licked her finger properly. There was a certain animal quality but it wasn't as bad as she had expected and it certainly didn't taste of pee.

"Well, does it taste 'yucky'?" Sam inquired.

"No. Sorry, Sam, it's not yucky at all." Helen replied.

Sam just gestured with her eyes and Helen slid down the bed until her head was over Sam's groin. Here the earthy animal smell was stronger but she couldn't back out now, she was too much under the thrall of Sam's threat. Furthermore, the more she progressed, the more it seemed to be right; she had slid right off the end of the bed and was on her knees, on her knees in front of her captor and about to perform 'unspeakable' acts under duress. She bent her head forward and set to work.

At first Helen just kissed the outer lips, keeping her own lips closed, nervous about taking the plunge but she felt a deep sense of being 'in role', a role she had never really known before but one she now felt she was born to play. Here, knelt before her cruel captor, she had no option but to obey and her role as supplicant was to worship or pay the price. Cautiously she eased apart the outer lips with her tongue. Here the taste was far stronger than it had been on her finger but it was curiously intoxicating; each time she failed to be revolted made the next taste that bit easier and she found herself searching out the nooks and crannies, wanting more.

Remembering what Sam had done for her, what had felt good, what had worked, she searched out Sam's clitoris, licking it gently with the tip of her tongue. An 'Ooh, yes, that's good, like that but a bit harder' from Sam told her she was on the right tracks and she increased the pressure as Sam had demanded. The more she worked the more swollen the nub of Sam's clitoris got and the easier it was to do. Occasionally Sam would urge her to go harder but there were far easier signs that she was doing the right thing; Sam was far from still, her muscles tensed and relaxed as the waves within her rose and fell and, from time to time, she would give a groan of 'Oh, Yes!' or little cries of pleasure. Helen could feel that Sam was getting close, that there was a tension inside her which was demanding release and when Sam reached down and grasped her head she realised she was right on the edge so she increased the intensity until she was rewarded with a massive groan of pleasure as Sam climaxed.

Neither woman moved for a while, Sam laid full length on the bed catching her breath, Helen still on her knees at the foot of the bed. Then Sam rolled over, saw Helen, and demanded she get back on the bed for a hug. She pulled aside the duvet allowing the two women to snuggle down beneath it; they didn't need the warmth but it added to the intimacy.

"So, how do you like licking pussy?" Sam teased after they had kissed for a while. "You're not bad for a beginner."

Now that the heat of the moment was over Helen was feeling shy again and she couldn't look Sam in the eye. Once again she'd allowed Sam to take advantage of her, no, that wasn't right, she had been a more than willing victim from the start. She'd even ripped her own dress apart; how could she have done that? Now, here she was, naked and in bed, cuddling under the covers. Sam drew back a bit and, putting her fingers under Helen's chin, lifted her head so that their eyes met.