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“That won’t be necessary,” smiled Sandra. “What then?” asked Helen. Sandra replied, “How would you like to be a little slave?” Sandra was rather vague about what precisely she meant by this, but Helen gathered it was some kind of BDSM scene, and she wasn’t impressed. She had always been fairly resistant to pain, but she didn’t enjoy it. On the other hand, she had had a couple of partners spank her lightly, and that felt good. She was persuaded to try it out, with a promise from Sandra that she would be permitted to stop as soon as she felt uncomfortable. It was hours later that she recalled that she had used the word “permitted”. Why, she wondered, did the recollection of this word make her feel horny? Sandra was on the phone for ages making arrangements. She seemed to have endless friends and acquaintances. Finally things were sorted, and the date was set for Helen’s initiation. The day eventually dawned and Helen found herself on her way. Strangely enough the journey only took. By now she was moaning loudly, thrashing her head from side to side, her blonde hair whipping across her face. Her hips began thrusting and then she pushed them up off the mattress, rubbing her clit furiously, her head pushed back so I could see the curve of her red lips curled in a little smile. Her pussy clenched tight around her fingers and then relaxed and, as she pulled her fingers out of herself, a small rivulet of fluid seeping out and hanging poised at the bottom of her opening like a raindrop off a leaf. She put one finger in her mouth and licked her own juices off it with those luscious red lips, then she looked at me and smiled. Her face and chest were flushed; her normally pale breasts now pink from her exertions. I stood up from the chair and joined Mel on the bed, wrapping her in my arms and kissing her softly. “That was incredible! I’ve never had my own private erotic show before,” I said. “That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” “I just wanted to show you what I.
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