*ORIGINAL FICTION* Gentle schoolgirl Sarah Wright hates all types of fighting, combat or self-defence. When the slight 15-year-old is forced by her mum to go to wrestling classes, in an effort to toughen her up, she's taken to pieces on the mat by a...
"Sarah?", Sasha began with very uncharacteristic sheepishness.
"Yes?"
"Would you like me to be your first kiss?"
"Really? But like... wait, do you love me or something?"
"No silly, I don't love you. I just think you're very adorable."
"And you want to kiss me?"
"Yes. But if you tell anyone we had this conversation then you're dead, yeah?"
"Of course, I'm not like that."
"I know you're not. That's why I trust you."
"If you will untie me then I agree to it," Sarah declared.
That sounding fair even to Sasha, she started untying Sarah's legs. Those two scarves were difficult to disentangle as the other girls had done such a good job on her legs, but she managed it.
Then Sasha sat on the edge of the trolley and reached up to start untying Sarah's wrists that were bound with belts to the rail above her head. As she leaned in to do so, her face got very close to Sarah's and she began feeling all sorts of things, as did Sarah.
With Sarah's hands still tied to the rail above her head, a proper kiss between the sturdy blonde and the slender brunette followed.
For a first kiss, it was quite passionate, and Sarah enjoyed it much more than she could ever have imagined. She had never even thought of kissing a girl before - let alone a bully, or while she was tied up and completely helpless.
Once she'd fully untied Sarah's arms, Sasha took the brunette's hand, helped her up off the trolley and they kissed again before embracing. It was electric for them both, but particularly for Sasha.
"You know, this doesn't mean I ain't going to bully you next week," warned Sasha, continuing to hold Sarah's hand.
"I don't care," Sarah retorted.
"I mean, I can't have anyone thinking I have gone soft or that I'm a lesbo. I'm a wrestler after all."
"Do what you want to me."
Sasha liked the sound of that. "Kiss my shoes, then!"
Sarah was amazed. "You what? Like, right now?"
Sasha was surprised at how much harder it was to insist on her orders being followed when she didn't have all of her friends to back her up.
"Well, maybe I'll make you do it next week, then. In front of everyone," Sasha decided. And Sarah wasn't arguing. She'd had enough for one day.
As Sasha opened up her locker, Sarah looked on in desperation. While Sasha contemplated her next move, Sarah hoped for some mercy and Sasha could see it in her eyes.
"I'll tell you what," Sasha began, "you can have your clothes back. Plus socks and shoes to go home in."
"Thank you so much," said Sarah in a charmingly grateful way.
"See, I can be nice."
"Yeah, you are."
Helpfully, Sasha even went to pick up Sarah's tracksuit bottoms, t-shirt and socks from the various places the other girls had thrown them: around the changing room floor, on coat hooks and on top of lockers. Even handing Sarah her clothes back made her feel so powerful.
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