5 finding life`s partner - Sex Stories

5 finding life`s partner

... features finding some perverse joy in imparting bad news with bread milk and mail. Over the last weekend she had slept with Tim a number of times, they had cleaned and made ready a dungeon for themselves and had both confessed to being into light pain, and b********y, he having experienced the later her having fantasised. Today was back to reality just living and being seen to live as normal, Tim was to be rebuilding the garden fence at the back of that dratted goat run. His mother used to say that keeping a goat is like holding water in a colander, you need to fill every hole to have a chance! She was not wrong the elderly nanny he owned would have given Houdini competition. For Ursula though it was to be a day of baking, which she loved, and a little gardening in her lovely walled garden. The postman; appeared, dumped his post on the table along with the ordered bread and milk, then told them that he had just “watched the contractors in record time flatten the cottage Tim had lived in for years .” Having imparted that nugget of joy, he was soon back on his pony and trap and away on his round, no doubt to impart further gloomy news at every opportunity. They sat in silence for a moment or two, then with a shrug Tim went off to his work grunting that “that was that then” as he passed Ursula without a glance she saw tears in his eyes. The day passed fairly slowly, coffee, dinner and afternoon tea were quiet affairs but by teatime, the main meal of the day, the mood had ...

... lightened a lot and after a nice meal, Ursula mentioned the dungeon, telling Tim to be downstairs at 7, and to be ready for a thrashing as he was due that for the table ending he had given her the last evening. He simply touched his forelock and quietly mumbled “ok misses” then went off to feed the dog and to wash. At 7 that evening he presented himself at the steps to what they had come to refer to as “downstairs” he was dressed in pyjamas and a dressing gown, just as he used to for his old mother when she had ordered a disciplining. Ursula was already waiting, crop in hand, she had been looking forward to this since yesterday. She was dressed in black from head to toe, her dress a long slim one with a high old fashioned neck, long sleeves and a single line of buttons from neck to hemline. She said not a word just pointed to the whipping stool, which Tim approached silently dropping his trousers as he neared the stool and dr****g himself over the cool leather. Presenting her with his backside as a target his voice suddenly broke the silence, echoing around the little room. “Mother said as I were a wriggler I was had to be secured, she used a gag as well but I always hated that, but I will leave that to you misses.” Ursula fetched straps, and secured wrists and ankles, in the conventional way, her soft voice quietly asking “how many strokes would mother have given you for what you did to me last evening?” His answer was that “it depended on if she had wanted to be `had` in which ...