Chapter 5

Heather and I got back from our little trip into town around 1am. As we were getting ready to go, she told me about this party that she and Barb were throwing this weekend and what it was really about. Barb, it seemed, was still a little prude when it came to her body, and Heather had been trying to help her out of her shell ever since they moved in together.

"So, a couple of weeks ago I decided that maybe what she needed was to just be put in the right kind of situation, and see how she handled it."

"So you planned this whole party so that Barb could get laid? That explains why you invited so many guys, and not me," I said with a smile. I had figured out when I saw the guest list that she was stacking the deck with guys on purpose. I had been a bit upset that I hadn't been invited, but now that I knew what the party was about I didn't mind at all.

"That's not quite it. See, Barb is kind of nervous about her body, but it turns out that she's got quite an active imagination."

My ears perked up. "Oh, really? Well come on, let's hear the dirt." I was almost giggling.

"I don't want to tell you everything, that would spoil some of the fun. I should tell you, though, that she has it pretty bad for your boyfriend."

"George? Really? I always thought they were just good friends."

"Well, they are. Barb hides her feelings pretty well, and she thinks that George maybe has some feelings about her too, but she's too shy to ask him, and anyway she wouldn't want to try to take him away from you."

"So that's why you invited George."

"Yeah. I wanted to ask you about it first, though."

I wasn't really sure how I felt about George having sex with somebody else. He and I had been together for about six months, and we hadn't even talked about it. I remembered one of my ex-boyfriends, who tried to convince me that 'open relationships' were the best thing since sliced bread. Turns out he just wanted to screw anything that moved and had a vagina; he was only dating me so he could get in my pants. George was different, though. I had the feeling that he actually cared about me. And besides, the idea of sleeping with other people didn't exactly repulse me. I filed all this in the back of my head; I would definitely need to talk to George, and probably Barb, about it later.

"Here we are."

"Frederick's of Hollywood? Who exactly are we shopping for?" I grinned.

"Me. You. Barb," she smiled. "I thought I'd buy her a little present. If I can get her at least a bit interested in looking sexy, maybe she'll open up a little."

The hours flew by after that. Heather and I spent the next few hours picking out this and that, trying things on, and giggling like little children. We had a great time. Heather picked out something lacy and white for Barb -- "White is the virginal color, right?" she joked -- and by the time I really got into it, I decided that I was going to buy something that would really knock George's socks off. I finally decided on this intricate ensemble, with a black and mostly see-through top that barely hid my nipples and clung tightly to my body all the way down to my waist, crotchless panties, a matching garter belt, and black stockings. A small leather choker topped off the outfit. I put it all on in the dressing room, and called Heather in to look at it. Her grin stretched from ear to ear, and she ate in my entire body with her eyes. I knew she was bi, and she was probably as turned on by looking as me as I was just putting the stuff on. Just then, she gasped and said, "I know just what you need to go along with that."

She disappeared from the fitting room, and I stood there admiring myself in the mirror while I waited for her. If this doesn't boil his blood, I thought to myself, I don't know what will.

Heather came back in without knocking and tossed me something. I caught it in my hands, and noticed that it felt furry. I looked down to see what she had picked out, and realized that it was a set of fur-lined handcuffs. I gasped, and my eyes must have doubled in size because Heather just laughed.

"Put them on," she said. "See if they fit."

"Where's the key?" I asked.

"In the box. Here," and she grabbed the cuffs from my hands. She spun me around, facing the mirror, pulled my wrists behind my back, and snapped the cuffs on before I knew what was happening.