by A. L. Brooks
Bondage for Beginners Evening Workshop
Thursday 5th July 6.30pm
She’d signed up weeks ago, long before the dating fiasco started, thinking the class would be a safe environment for her to explore some of the things that had dominated—she snorted at her own pun—her fantasies over the last year or so. The class was part of a series run by the sex shop where she’d bought her vibrator, and they had a good reputation for running informative and relaxing classes where boundaries were greatly respected.
Maybe she should just cancel. She’d lose her fee this close to the time, but…
She sat up on the sofa. No. Her mum was right—she was raised to be strong, to know her own mind, and to follow her own path. Going to this class would be a big step forward in discovering her true sexual self, so no, she wasn’t going to back out of it now.
After closing down the email app on her phone, she couldn’t stop herself from scrolling back to the message app, and the text that Sarah had sent to her on Sunday morning:
Bethany, I am so sorry for my behaviour at the end of our date yesterday. It was unacceptable, and it certainly did spoil what had been a lovely afternoon up to that point. I would like to explain to you what happened, and see if we can start again. Can we meet? Call me, please?
The message had caused Bethany great confusion. She’d left the wharf on Saturday adamant that Sarah was gone from her life—someone so unpredictable was not who Bethany envisaged trying to build a relationship with. Even if that someone was intelligent, witty, full of life, and stunning to look at. Then she’d woken to that message on Sunday and was instantly conflicted again. Sarah sounded so sincere, and her offer to explain was a pleasant surprise. But then, this was the Jekyll-and-Hyde behaviour she’d already displayed twice since they’d met, and it gave Bethany pause for thought.
She hadn’t replied, or called, and a part of her felt guilty about that. Sarah hadn’t messaged again, and while Bethany was grateful that Sarah wasn’t pushing, she couldn’t help worrying she’d hurt her a little by ignoring the attempt to make things right between them.
Groaning, she stood up and walked to the kitchen. She needed to put thoughts of Sarah out of her mind and focus on work tomorrow, and that bondage class. She chuckled. Well, there was a sentence she’d never have imagined putting together in her brain.
Thankfully her pupils were angelic on Thursday, and her work day flew by in a pleasant rush, without any drama. She hurried home to change; she had no idea what was appropriate to wear, but as the shop had recommended something casual and comfortable, she’d chosen her soft, skinny blue jeans and a loose cotton shirt, the brown sister of the green one she’d worn on the date with Sarah.
She tutted as she did up the buttons. Not supposed to be thinking about her, remember?
Finally ready, she grabbed her handbag and headed out to the Tube. There was a light summer rain falling so she hurried along underneath her umbrella, dodging small puddles and other pedestrians.
As she neared the shop, her heart rate sped up. She was excited and nervous all at the same time, and now wishing she had a friend who could have accompanied her. Of course, that thought just made her laugh—none of her friends, most of whom were straight, were close enough that she’d have felt comfortable asking them.
The shop was busy, and it sent her nerves rocketing. She shuffled in between two couples who were each discussing the merits—or not—of the glass dildos on a special display in the centre of the shop, and approached the counter. The woman behind it, a different one from when she’d been there before, smiled broadly at her.
“Hi, can I help?”
Bethany nodded and leaned in. “Yes,” she said quietly, “I’m here for the class.”
“Perfect,” the woman said. “You’re a little early, so please just feel free to browse around the store. We’ve already announced that casual shoppers only have five minutes left before we close for the class, so it won’t be long. Okay?”
Nodding again, and smiling as best she could, Bethany backed away from the counter and stepped on someone’s foot.
“Ouch!” a quiet voice said.
“Sorry,” Bethany said, whirling around, “I was—”
It was Sarah.
Bethany didn’t know who was the more shocked of the two of them. They stared wide-eyed at each other for a few moments before Sarah’s mouth curled into a small but sad smile.
“Hi, Bethany.”
“Hi.” Bethany swallowed. “I’m, um, sorry about your foot.”
Sarah shrugged. “No worries. I’ll live.”
She stared at Bethany, and her gaze held so much it took Bethany’s breath away. There was sorrow there, and regret, and once again that obvious appreciation that sent shivers tumbling down Bethany’s spine. Argh, why did this woman keep doing this to her?
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” she said quietly.
Sarah shook her head. “It’s okay.”
She looked away as the shop assistant announced that the store was closing to all but those registered for the class. Bethany blushed. Oh God, now Sarah’s going to know why I’m here.
“Hi, Sarah,” the assistant said as she walked past them to usher the last stragglers out of the shop.
“Hey,” Sarah replied, her head still turned away from Bethany.
Why isn’t she moving? She should be leaving, right?
Oh, God. She’s not leaving.
She’s here for the class too.
Bethany wanted to groan out loud but managed to suppress it. This was so ridiculously unfair. Sarah was the last person on Earth Bethany wanted in the room when she learned about tying up a lover. Especially when some of her fantasies recently had featured Sarah being tied up by her, and it was obvious from Sarah’s personality that there was no way she was here to learn the ropes, so to speak, as a submissive.
So bloody unfair.
Sarah turned back around and seemed startled to see Bethany still standing there. Eyes wide, she said, “Are you…? The…the class?”
Struck dumb, Bethany merely nodded.
“Oh.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed then, and she ran a hand through her hair. “Well, um, this isn’t awkward at all, is it?”
Bethany barked out a laugh and Sarah grinned, shaking her head.
“Jesus,” Sarah whispered. She cleared her throat. “You know what, I think I’ll go.” She took a couple of steps back. “Enjoy the class.”
What?
“Sarah, wait,” Bethany blurted. “You don’t have to—”
“It’s okay, Bethany. I’ll catch the next one.” Sarah smiled, and it was full of such honesty and openness that Bethany’s stomach did a flip. “I’ll… Goodbye, Bethany.”
Bethany watched her walk over to the assistant, say a few words, then walk out of the shop. Leaving was extraordinarily generous, and thoughtful, and…lovely of Sarah. Sure, there may have been an element of self-preservation in the act, but Bethany couldn’t help feeling that it was mostly all about making things easier for her.
Once again, Sarah had managed to confuse the hell out of her, and it was just as infuriating as before.
“Okay everyone, I think we’re ready to start,” the shop assistant called.
Bethany sighed and rolled her eyes. Well, if there was one good thing that came out of seeing Sarah tonight, it was that Bethany was no longer nervous about the class. And that was because the class was now the last thing on her mind; Sarah, once again, occupied all the available space therein.
Chapter 12
There was a spring in Bethany’s step all the way home, and it wasn’t just from all that she had learned about bondage ties, restraints, and cuffs. Sarah sacrificing the class for her had stayed with her throughout the event, as had the warm feelings it had engendered for the dark-haired woman who caused her such a maelstrom of confusion and attra
ction.
When she walked through her front door, the idea that had been forming in her brain on the Tube took shape and grabbed hold of her. She threw her handbag on the sofa after pulling out her mobile phone from its depths and, before she could out-think herself, rang Sarah’s number.
Sarah picked up on the third ring, and her surprise was evident in her greeting. “Bethany?”
“Hi, Sarah.” Bethany walked a circle around her coffee table, trying to keep her breathing even. “Is this an okay time to call?”
“Absolutely. Yes. Of course.” Her words were rushed, and it made Bethany smile.
“I just… I wanted to say thank you, for giving up the class tonight. I didn’t say it in the shop, which was very rude of me, but you shocked me so much by doing that, it—”
“Hey, it’s okay. No thanks necessary. It was just the right thing to do.” Sarah’s tone was earnest.
“It was very thoughtful and generous, and I really appreciate it.”
“Well, you’re welcome.” Sarah paused, then said, “So, good class?”
Blushing even though Sarah couldn’t see her, and cursing herself for still having this reaction to her own sexual explorations, Bethany said, “It was. Yes.”
“Good.”
She didn’t push, and Bethany shook her head again at how nice this version of Sarah was.
“So, um, I was wondering,” Bethany said, her voice a little croaky. “In your message on Sunday you said you, um, wanted to explain about how our date ended, and, well, I was wondering if you would like to meet up to talk.” She sighed. “I’ll be honest, Sarah, you infuriate me. One minute you’re super nice and lovely to spend time with, the next you’re…”
“Psycho crazy woman?” Sarah offered.
“Well, yes. Sort of.”
Sarah chuckled, then sighed. “Bethany, I am so sorry. And yes, there is an explanation and it does not, I hasten to point out, involve anything like an actual disorder or drugs or anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
“So,” Sarah said on a long breath, “I have an idea. Are you free on Saturday?”
“I am. Although not too early, please.”
Sarah’s laugh was warm and gentle. “No worries about that. I was wondering about a picnic somewhere. What do you think? Too lame?” Sarah sounded unsure, and nervous. Bethany practically melted.
“I think a picnic sounds amazing,” she said quietly.
“Brilliant.” Sarah sounded relieved now. “I know it’s a little out of your way, but can I suggest the Olympic Park in Stratford? There’s some beautiful spots along the river.”
“Oh, I would love that!” Bethany grinned. “I’ve never been and have always meant to.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll text you where to meet.”
“Great, thank you. What shall we do for food? Each bring something? I’ll bake something, if you like.”
“Oh, that would be amazing. Yes, please!” Sarah seemed genuinely delighted at the idea, not just being polite, and that thought sent a warm wave spreading through Bethany’s body. “And I’ll grab us some other things from M&S on my way home tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“That sounds wonderful,” Bethany said, before she could censor herself.
Sarah sighed. “It really does,” she said quietly. “Bethany, thank you for agreeing to meet. I’m…I’m really looking forward to it.”
The intensity of her voice sent a thrill coursing through Bethany’s body.
Friday evening saw Sarah spending a ridiculous amount of time perusing—and agonising over—the variety of picnic-suitable food on sale in the M&S Food at Liverpool Street station. She had forgotten to ask Bethany if she had any food preferences or allergies, and after spending five minutes trying to second-guess, gave in and sent her a text.
I’m buying food for tomorrow - anything I should avoid?!
Bethany’s response came only a few moments later, complete with smiley face emoji.
Anything is good. Oh, except coriander - yuk!
Sarah chuckled and texted a “thanks” in response with a laughing face emoji.
She was feeling relaxed, and light-hearted, and hopeful, all of which were combining to keep a grin permanently locked on her face. She was so glad the picnic idea had been a hit—it was something she’d begrudgingly sought Jonathan’s advice over. To his credit, he’d kept his usual sarcasm in check.
“A picnic?” he’d said, when she’d called him right after getting off the phone with Bethany. “What made you think of that?”
“Well, I just thought it was kind of…safer, for her. No pressure, you know? And you know I like being outdoors, so I took a gamble on her feeling the same way.”
“And it worked beautifully. That is extremely thoughtful of you, Sarah. Well done.”
“Shit, I’m just making it up as I go along,” Sarah said, which earned her a loud tut.
“I do wish you wouldn’t keep downplaying your own sensitivity,” he said, sounding irritated. “This cold-hearted bitch impression you like to present to the world is getting a tad tiresome.”
“Consider me admonished,” she retorted.
“You know I’m right. Stop fighting it,” he said, before moving on to a discussion about what sort of foods she should take for the picnic.
Of course, all advice on that score deserted her the minute she was faced with the amount of food available, and so here she was, floundering around the refrigerated section trying not to be bamboozled by what was on offer.
Twenty minutes later she was at the cash desk, piling what was probably way too much food onto the counter. She’d have to re-evaluate in the morning; she’d never be able to carry it all.
After lugging everything home and storing it appropriately, she decided on a workout to ease her nerves. The unpleasant realisation that she was nervous had hit her on the way home on the train. Her self-confidence had always been strong, especially since university, where she’d excelled at both the studying and partying aspects. She had progressed rapidly in her career on the back of that confidence, impressing everywhere she went. Who would have thought that a somewhat geeky primary school teacher would be the one to turn her into a bag of nerves the night before a simple picnic date?
Maybe it was because Bethany was so different from all the other women Sarah had taken to her bed. Maybe it was because, for once, taking Bethany to bed was not Sarah’s primary objective. That time in the wine bar—which seemed ages ago now, even though it was a mere three weeks—it had been, but now… Just the thought of seeing Bethany again made Sarah smile, no matter what they ended up doing.
She headed to the workout room, stripping off her suit as she went, leaving behind a trail of clothes that she’d pick up later. As she changed into her Lycra and trainers, she shook her head in wonder at what was happening to her.
It was weird.
Like, really weird.
But good.
Bethany groaned as the unmistakeable smell of burned pastry assaulted her nostrils when she returned to the kitchen. She hauled the tin containing the quiche out of the oven and stared forlornly at it.
Ruined.
Somehow she’d forgotten to set the timer, which was unheard of for her. Then she’d wandered off to the bedroom to try to decide what to wear for the picnic, and now she had a burned quiche in her hands.
She glanced at her watch; just enough time. Chopping and beating furiously, mentally berating herself the entire time, she whipped up another quiche and put it in the oven. She resolutely set two timers—one in the kitchen and one on her phone in the bedroom—and returned to her outfit dilemma.
The weather forecast was good—twenty-six degrees, sunny all day, and only a light breeze. She’d need some sunscreen, for sure. Shorts was probably also the way to go—if she felt brave enough to show her legs�
�or maybe those light blue cropped trousers she’d bought last year… When she’d finally made a decision, she grabbed a quick shower.
Once the new, near-perfect quiche had been retrieved from the oven and placed on a cooling rack, she sat on the sofa and tried to relax. The thought of seeing Sarah again was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking.
While Bethany wasn’t a virgin, she may as well have been for all the experience she’d had—or not—in the last seven years. Sex with her one and only girlfriend, Michelle, in college had been…satisfactory. Not earth-shattering, as they’d both been virgins and had stumbled their way through the basics a few times before they finally got the hang of the essentials. But their relationship, if you could call it that, had been relatively short-lived—three months after it started it petered out. Michelle didn’t enjoy playing second fiddle to Bethany’s studies, and Bethany wasn’t about to jeopardise her dream of becoming a teacher for endless sex-filled nights with Michelle.
Since then, Bethany had relied on fantasies about Jessica, or the other crushes she’d had over the years, and erotic books, and the internet, along with her right hand, to meet any sexual urges she’d had. There hadn’t been that many, and for some time she’d wondered if she was actually asexual. But some research on some excellent websites, and an honest and in-depth self-assessment had left that idea behind. She definitely did want a relationship with someone that included sex, but until now, hadn’t figured out how to fit that and her career together. Meeting Sarah had opened that idea up—exploded it, actually—as Sarah was the kind of sexy woman Bethany had only ever dreamed about meeting.
And if they became a something, they’d probably end up having sex. Although, if she was honest with herself, she did have some doubts about how compatible they might be in bed. She knew exactly what she was looking for, and somehow the confident, experienced Sarah didn’t fit the image of the submissive lover Bethany desired. But taming someone as bold as Sarah would be even more exciting, wouldn’t it? Getting someone that confident to submit to her will and desires, to be able to pin her down, tie her up, take her every which way she wanted—