Beautiful Dresses and Beautiful Pain [GxG and BDSMy]

One

Millie and Amanda met at a party. Millie was in a dress, a sleeveless low-backed dress which left her arms bare. Her arms, and also the faint pink rope-mark twisting its way up one forearm and wrist.

She'd gone out in a hurry, and forgotten the rope-mark was there. Usually she remembered, and at least checked for marks, and covered any that showed, but tonight she'd been in a hurry and forgotten.

Tonight, by mistake, she'd let a mark show.

There was a mark because she sometimes masturbated with a rope wrapped around her wrists. Or a belt, or a sash. Anything to feel trapped. Anything to feel helpless. She'd never done more than tie herself like that, and she'd never actually done it with anyone else, but it was what she liked to do when she was on her own.

Somehow, Amanda saw the rope-mark and knew what it was. She guessed. She must have guessed, and then begun watching Millie, and watched for a while, because she came over when Millie was by herself, in a corner, looking at the books on a shelf.

She walked up behind Millie and said, "That looks beautiful."

Nothing else, not hi or how are you or do you feel like talking. Just that something looked beautiful.

"The dress?" Millie said, puzzled.

"Your arm," Amanda said. "This."

She reached over and touched Millie's wrist. A stroke, a caress. A caress which was sensual, and wanting, and soft. A caress which almost tender.

Millie was confused. She looked at Amanda. Amanda was in a dress of her own, a sleek sleeveless dress that left her arms bare, too. Amanda had strong arms, arms with actual muscle. Millie liked that. She liked the idea that Amanda was strong.

Millie wasn't interested at all, not in Amanda, but she liked Amanda's arms all the same.

"I'm Amanda," Amanda said.

"Millie."

"Hi."

Millie smiled. "I don't understand," she said, even though she thought she did. "What do you mean about my arm?"

"You understand."

"I really don't."

Amanda reached out, and touched Millie's arm, and stroked the rope-mark again. "That," she said. "I know what it is. And it's beautiful."

Millie flushed. She felt caught out. And trapped. And part of her liked feeling trapped. She didn't know what to say.

"It's beautiful," Amanda said.

"Stop saying that," Millie said softly, and looked around. Luckily, there was no-one close enough to hear.

"It is," Amanda said softly, almost whispering too.

"It's not. It's just my arm."

"You know that isn't what I mean."

Millie hesitated, and looked at Amanda. She bit her lip. "What do you want?" she said in the end.

"I know what that is," Amanda said quietly. "I don't know how it got there, but I know what it is, and if you'd like me to, I'd like to help you make more."

Millie bit her lip. She looked at Amanda. She felt embarrassed, and slightly uncomfortable. She didn't want to talk about this to a stranger.

She felt embarrassed, but all the same, she didn't take her arm away. She left it where Amanda could touch her.  And Amanda did. Amanda kept stroking her as they talked, tracing gentle fingertips along the rope-mark on Millie's wrist.