Step By Step

Helen thanked Bernard profusely promising that she’d be back as soon as she needed anything doing to her hair and then went next door to the café. Sam was sitting over a cup of tea looking bored and dejected but, as soon as she saw Helen she brightened up.

“Wow! Look at you!” Sam exclaimed. “I knew Bernard wouldn’t let us down.”

“Yeah, it’s… different.” Helen replied.

“Different? You look great. Now sit down and we’ll have some lunch.”  The waitress came over and they both chose salads off the lunch menu. As they ate Sam couldn’t stop reaching up and running her fingers through Helen’s hair, fascinated by how it felt now that it was so much shorter. They laughed and joked over the meal and Helen relaxed sufficiently that was almost able to forget just how she was dressed; this was turning out to be just another Saturday out shopping with her friend. When the time came to pay Sam got out her purse and riffled through it.

“Please, Sam, I’ll pay for lunch. It’s the least I can do.” Helen urged.

“Will you, thanks, I appreciate that but it’s not what I’m checking for.” Sam replied. “I was looking to see if I have enough cash for… Oh fuck it; I’ll put it on the plastic; why have credit cards if you don’t use them.”

“Sam!” Helen retorted, shocked by her friends language. “Anyway, we’ll put what on the plastic?”

“You’ll see. We haven’t finished shopping yet. Now settle up if you’re paying and we’ll get going.”

After Helen had paid the bill and the two women headed back out onto the High Street. Sam, as ever, took the lead with Helen carrying the bags. As she followed along the crowded pavements she noticed Sam must have been shopping whilst she was getting her hair cut as the bag with the track suit in it was considerably bulkier but she didn’t have time to look inside and see what she had purchased. When they got to the bottom of the High St and Helen was horrified to see that they were heading for Ann Winters, the local branch of a national chain of shops selling ‘marital aids’ as they so coyly put it. Helen was blushing just to be seen standing outside it; she had never, ever, considered going inside. The window displays were of lingerie sets that she considered the ultimate in tacky; who could possibly want fur lined split crotch panties, none but the cheapest of whores would be seen dead in anything like that. To her dismay Sam grabbed her hand and dragged her inside.

“Sam, Sam, what are we doing in here?” Helen hissed, trying to keep her voice down. A rather bored shop assistant looked up but said nothing. Helen blushed beetroot.

Sam ignored her and went over to the displays, picked up a vibrator and playfully pointed it at her friend. Helen was far from an expert but surely no man could ever be that large, the very thought of putting something like that inside her made her shudder, though whether with disgust or maybe a tinge of something else was anybody’s guess.

“What’s up?” Sam joshed. “Too big for you, I thought that you had been married.”

“Sam, please.” Helen did not see the joke and was getting increasingly uncomfortable.

“OK, this isn’t what we’re here for anyway. Come on, it’s round the back.”

The shop was arranged in such a way that the various display screens cordoned off various parts of the shop. Near the entrance were reasonably inoffensive items, things like fantasy outfits, lingerie and vibrators but, as they made their way to the back of the shop it got more risqué and they found the display of leatherwear. Helen, still acutely embarrassed at being in a sex shop, felt a little more comfortable now that she was out of view of the shop assistants but the blinking red light on a security CCTV camera reminded her that there were other ways of being watched.

“Right then, we need a paddle, something a bit better than the hairbrush. As it’s your bottom that’s going to feel it I think it only appropriate that you should choose. Let’s see what they’ve got” Sam wandered over to the selection and picked up what looked like a leather table tennis bat. “Something like this perhaps?”

“Sam!” Helen hissed, aware that the shop assistants were just the other side of the display screens. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can, and you will.” Sam replied firmly. “I’d get on with it if I were you, if I have to choose it will be the worse for your bottom.”

Seeing the resolve in her face Helen reluctantly joined Sam over to the display. There was the inevitable school cane, bendy and whippy. She was no stranger to those; a teacher at the church school she had attended had been all too fond of using one. However, remembering how the hairbrush had felt, she was more intrigued by the leather paddles. There was one about three inches wide and maybe five inches long which somehow spoke to her; whilst it wasn’t too brutal it was certainly enough to do its job, to punish naughty little girls. She picked it up and swished it back and forth wondering what it would feel like.

“This one, I think.” She said, handing it to Sam.

“What was that?” Sam asked.

Helen suddenly realised where she had gone wrong.

“Please, Miss, please may we have this one.” She said, holding the paddle out and giving a curtsey.

“That’s better.” Sam took the paddle from Helen and appeared to be examining it. Suddenly she reached down, flipped up the rear hem of Helen’s dress and slapped the paddle across her buttocks.

“Ow! Sam!” Helen turned to remonstrate but saw the look on Sam’s face. “Thank you, Miss.” She said, hanging her head.

Secretly Sam was delighted. Firstly the paddle, whilst not the cheapest in the store, wasn’t that expensive; it wouldn’t make too big a dent when the credit card bill came in at the end of the month. Secondly it was roughly what she would have chosen. It showed that they were both thinking along the same lines. The paddle would certainly sting, and Helen was in for a lot of bright red bottoms, but it wasn’t so harsh as to risk injury nor was it so feeble so as to be purely symbolic. Smiling to herself she went to the desk to pay. As the assistant wrapped the paddle she saw some bits and pieces on the display stand and added them to the purchase.

Helen stood apart. She was sure that the assistants would have heard her cry out; how could they not in the confines of the shop and her right buttock was still stinging from the slap Sam had given her. Had they watched? Of course they had, that was what the CCTV was there for. They were being very matter of fact about everything but seemed to be taking forever to settle the bill, Sam had even added something else but Helen’s view was blocked and she couldn’t see what. But finally, with everything suitably wrapped in a plain paper bag, they were off, back out onto the street. Once there Helen found herself shaking.

“Helen, are you OK?”  Sam was instantly concerned for the welfare of her friend.

“Yeah, I guess so; I’m sorry, I feel a bit foolish but I’ve never been in one of those shops before.” Helen admitted.

“Really? Where did you buy your vibrator?” Sam asked.

“I haven’t got one. I’ve never… Look, I can’t talk about this in public.”

“OK, but… Hey, look, there’s our bus. Quick, we can just catch it.” Sam took Helen’s hand and they rushed across the road just in time to catch the number fourteen which would take them home. Once they had settled down Sam leaned over to Helen.

“So, Miss Innocent, are you telling me you’ve never owned a vibrator?” She asked.

“Of course not. Playing with yourself is disgusting.” Helen begun before she realised what she was saying. “Look, Sam, it’s the way I was brought up, OK? I was taught that touching myself ‘down there’ was wicked, that I’d burn in hell. Please, Sam, don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, well, maybe just a bit.” Sam put her arm round Helen. “Look, if you’ll end up burning in hell at least I’ll be there with you.” Sam gently kissed Helen on the cheek. Mollified Helen snuggled up to Sam as the bus made its way through the crowded streets. Somehow hell didn’t sound so bad with Sam there to share it.

Home at last Helen Sam slumped in an armchair and demanded that Helen go make the tea. Helen, realising that they were back in role, back plying the game, gave a curtsey and went to the kitchen to put on the kettle. On the way her reflection in the hall mirror was a reminder of just how much had changed, the short dress and the radical haircut had transformed her into someone she had never been before, the woman in the mirror was strong, independent and lived life her own way, not the meek little mouse she had always been. However, this strong, independent woman was still under orders so she hurried off to the kitchen.

When she returned with the tea she placed the tray on the coffee table and, at Sam’s bidding, sat down cross legged in front of her. Sam kicked off her shoes, rested her feet on Helen’s lap and demanded a foot massage. Was it coincidence that her heel was resting against Helen’s pubic mound?

“So, you’ve never owned a vibrator?” Sam asked.

“Please, Sam, don’t tease, you know how I used to be.” Helen returned.

“And what about now? Will you be buying one?” Sam seemed highly amused.

“I don’t know; I haven’t thought about it.” Helen replied nervously, wondering where this conversation was going.

“Good job I bought you this, then.” Sam reached into one of the shopping bags and produced a vibrator. It was eight or nine inches long and shaped like a bullet rather than a penis. The last two inches were shiny, as if they were chrome or silver. She reached back in to the bag and found some batteries and, within moments the vibrator was buzzing away. Helen watched like a rabbit caught in the headlights; she really didn’t know how to react. Sam reached down with her foot and flicked up the hem of Helen’s dress as she handed over the still buzzing object.

“Come along now, you know better than to keep me waiting.” Sam urged. Helen reached for the vibrator. It seemed huge in her hands and there was no way it would fit inside her without some lubrication or foreplay. Her nerves threatened to overcome her; she was being asked, no told, to do something that was alien to her nature, that had been forbidden all her life and to do it not in the secret confines of her bed but sat cross legged on the sitting room floor. She nearly refused but the look on Sam’s face was unrelenting so she reached down, opened herself up and prodded the tip between her labia.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Sam said. “Here, let me show you.”

Sam got up out of the armchair and went round to kneel behind Helen. She wrapped her arms around Helen and taking her by the wrists guided her hands so that the vibrator was resting, point downwards on Helen’s pubic mound, the tip just above her labia. Gently she eased it back and forth, up and down, letting Helen do most of the work.

“Is that any better?” She whispered in her ear. “Every woman has to find her own way; just do what feels good.”

As soon as Sam had repositioned the vibrator Helen had felt the magic tingle and, as she explored the various positions the intensity ebbed and flowed. There, not enough; there, too intense but there, oh yes! The tingle from the vibrator, the warmth of Sam’s arms around her, the fact that she had been sexually aware, if not actually aroused, all day, all combined with a wicked feeling that she was brazenly doing something bad, and loving every minute of it, made a heady mix, a mix she was fast becoming addicted to. She hardly noticed as Sam let her take control, that it was now entirely down to her where the vibrator was positioned and how hard it was pressed against her.

“You like that, don’t you.” Sam whispered.

“Yes, yes, I do.” Helen replied breathlessly

“If you want a little more…” Sam reached down and turned the knurled bottom of the vibrator upping the speed to a higher intensity.

Helen now had both hands clamped against her groin, holding the vibrator lengthways against her slit. Sam’s arms around her made her feel safe and the feel of Sam’s body against her back made this a shared experience. Her whole body started to tense and relax in waves as the sensations from her groin flooded her with a warm golden glow. She tilted her head back, her breathing fast and shallow, her whole body was shaking, she could feel herself nearing…

“And that’s quite enough of that.” Sam said in a ‘matter of fact’ manner as she reached down and snatched the vibrator away. “I seem to remember that you were giving me a foot massage.”

Sam switched off the vibrator and put it on the tea tray where it contrasted oddly with the cups and saucers. She then returned to the armchair and resumed her pose with her feet resting in Helen’s lap.

At first Helen was too flabbergasted to speak; she’d been so close, it had felt so good and then, to stop short like that, her body simply couldn’t change gear fast enough. Absentmindedly she went back to massaging Sam’s feet but she couldn’t concentrate. Helen’s heel was once again lying in her lap and she tried to move so that it rested against her; she couldn’t help herself, she had to get some sort of contact, something to stop the wonderful feelings inside her subsiding. Sam couldn’t help but notice and she wiggled her foot in response.

“What’s up?” She mocked. “Is someone feeling a little bit turned on? Lift up your dress.”

Sam removed her foot long enough for Helen to lift the hem of her dress before returning it to rest deep in Helen’s groin.  Almost in desperation Helen moved so as to rub herself against it but the angle was wrong and she couldn’t quite…

“Well, well, well. You are a randy little cow, aren’t you?” Sam continued her mocking tone. “And you used to be such a good little girl, look at you now, rutting away like a dirty little slut. How badly do you need to come?”

“Please, Miss, very badly, Miss.” And Helen meant it. Being called a slut, a randy little cow, had just added fuel to the fire within. The shame of acting like this, openly rubbing herself against her friend’s foot, just intensified the thrill. She was being bad, so very bad, so wicked and, despite herself, loving every second. She just wished she could get Sam’s foot just a little lower, pressed just a little harder.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait, but I’ve got another treat for you.” Sam reached into the bag and returned with a curious object which looked, at first glance, like something you used to entertain a dog. “These are Smart Balls. Can you guess where they go?”

Sam handed the Smart Balls to Helen and removed her foot. As Helen held them she could feel them move strangely in her hand, there was some kind of weight inside which accentuated every movement and made them wobble. She glanced up at Sam who looked back with that mixture of concern and sternness that typified her role; Helen knew that she would have to obey. Before today she had never inserted anything other than tampons inside her vagina, now, shortly after her first use of a vibrator she was being told to use this thing. She nearly rebelled, nearly called a halt, she knew that Sam would understand but, having gone this far, it seemed a shame to let her squeamishness hold her back now. She reached down with her left hand and opened herself up. With her right she eased the two balls inside her so that only the string was left dangling; it said a great deal about her that the balls slipped in easily and her hands were now sticky with her juices.

“There, that’s better. Now go and wash your hands and don’t let them fall out.”

Helen got up and headed for the bathroom. The Smart Balls gave the strangest sensation; they didn’t exactly stimulate but she would never forget that they were there as every movement was magnified and echoed within her. She also needed to concentrate a bit whilst she walked, clenching her muscles to hold them in. She had no illusions as to what would happen were she to let them fall out; there was still at least one purchase from Ann Winters still unused and she didn’t want to feel the paddle’s sting just yet.

When she’d finished in the bathroom Sam was in the bedroom changing the bedding. Suddenly, it would seem, they had gone from playing games to doing the weekly chores. Helen went in and helped.

The rest of the afternoon had a surreal quality. Sam behaved as if nothing were out of the ordinary; it was Saturday and there were jobs to be done. They agreed that it made sense for Helen to fetch her washing from next door so that they could combine the loads and they worked together, vacuuming and dusting both the houses. However, even without the Smart balls, Helen was constantly aware of her condition. Sam had brought her to the brink time after time and her body, or more specifically her groin, would not let her forget her need. She just couldn’t stop thinking about it. On top of that the short skirt, the lack of panties and the damn Smart balls wobbling away inside her and it felt as if her whole world was focussed on her clitoris. It didn’t help that there was nothing actually holding the Smart balls inside her and, from time to time, Helen had to clench her muscles to ensure they didn’t slip out.

Sam made it all too clear that she was all too aware of Helen’s condition. On the surface they were just two friends sharing the weekend tasks, working together to lighten the load but Helen noticed that she was never alone and that Sam was always watching her, always keeping an eye on what she was doing. Then, from time to time, she would choose a moment when Helen had her hands full to tease and tantalise, to add fuel to the fire. By six-o-clock they were making their meal and Helen was busy slicing mushrooms when Sam came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her clasping her hands across her lower belly.

“How are you doing? Not too hot and bothered?” Sam teased as she inched her hands lower.

“Please, Sam, I need…” Even now Helen had problems saying the words.

“What do you need?” Sam asked the tips of her fingers no just millimetres away from Helen’s labia.

“Please, I need… I need…” Sam’s fingers weren’t making it any easier for Helen.

“Is this what you need?” Sam pulled up the front of Helen’s dress and her hands now rested directly over Helen’s sex, her fingers moving in slow sensuous circles.

“Oh, yes!” Helen replied breathlessly. “Please, Sam… Please, Miss, please don’t tease me any more. I need it so badly.

“What do you need? Say it, say it out loud or I’ll stop.”

“I need to come Miss.” There, she’d said it, she’d admitted her need.

“But good girls don’t get all hot and bothered, do they? Only bad girls need to come.” Sam was calm, reasonable, like a teacher explaining something quite simple to a child. “Have you been a bad girl?”

Helen’s head was reeling, she could hardly think beyond the fantastic sensations that came from Sam’s fingers on her groin. Had she been a bad girl? Her whole upbringing told her so, told her that only immoral sluts abandoned themselves to their animal lusts like this, were so loose that they lost control, becoming slaves to their base desires.

“Yes, Miss, I’ve been a bad girl.” She admitted.

“And does this bad girl deserve to be punished?” Sam continued.

“I… I… Yes, Miss, I do, Miss.” Helen was lost in a tumbling whirl of powerful emotions. On a purely physical side the craving that came from her groin demanded release; she was sure she couldn’t take another let down. On the other hand she was deep, deep into role, a naughty, naughty girl caught in the depths of depravity who needed to feel the sting of the paddle, who needed to absolution that can only come from a well tanned backside.

Sam took her by the hand and led her through to the lounge where she retrieved the paddle they had purchased from the bag which still lay on the coffee table. She sat down on the sofa and unceremoniously flipped Helen across her lap. With her free hand she flipped up the hem of Helen’s dress pulling it up as far as it would go. Then she grabbed Helen’s wrist, locking it behind her back and holding her tight before setting to with the paddle, alternating, first on buttock, then the other.

For Helen the sheer intensity was overwhelming, each sensation piled on top of the last was taking her higher, taking her further. Her bottom was on fire and her tears fell freely but she was more aware of the ever building tension within her groin. She wanted, no needed more; she arched her back, lifting her buttocks, opening her thighs. Surely Sam could see how close she was, how the craving within her was screaming for satisfaction and still the pounding on her rear continued until…

Sam tossed the paddle to the floor and reached between Helen’s thighs, balling her hand into a fist and pushing it hard against Helen's vagina. Helen responded, urgently rubbing herself against the knuckle of Sam’s thumb, desperately humping away until, finally, the dam burst. Helen lost all control, the fire from her buttocks had engulfed her, pushing her over the edge, triggering wave upon wave of sensation as the orgasm crashed within her. She clamped her thighs together and kicked and thrashed as the sheer intensity of the climax overwhelmed her until she could take no more and she flopped like a rag doll, collapsing across Sam’s lap.

For a few moments Sam just let her friend lie there, allowing the shaking and the sobbing to subside. She no longer grasped Helen’s wrist but just held her so as to stop her falling to the floor, stroking her gently. Eventually it was Helen who made the first move, sliding gently until she was on her knees on the floor. She threw her arms around Sam and they hugged and hugged, their emotional closeness matched with a physical one.

“That was… That was…” Helen started.

“Shh. I know, that was pretty intense, wasn’t it?” Sam replied.

“Thank you, thank you.” Helen murmured.

“You’re welcome. We’ll work out just how you can pay me back later, OK?”

“Of course. Look, I need to go to the bathroom.” Helen started to get to her feet. Sam helped her up and they stood, still hugging.

“Off you go then.” Sam said eventually. “You can take the Smart balls out now.”

Smiling to herself Sam watched Helen disappear off upstairs. She was well satisfied with the day’s work and it was far from over yet. Sure, she had spent far too much down at the market but it was worth it. It wasn’t just that she was enjoying the power games; it was far more that she was enjoying watching Helen discover herself, watching her break out of the shell she’d live in for so many years. She went back to the kitchen and got on with the meal.