I’m Going to be Hiding on Halloween

Not everyone wants to be a part of Halloween. We all have our reasons and we might actually enjoy parts of the holiday and the days leading up to it. But, not all of us want to wait by the door to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Not all of us want to attend Halloween parties. For whatever your reason, you may be among those of us who hide on Halloween.
Halloween-Wallpaper-7

Create Your own Halloween Magic – A disappearing act

Personally, I have no children and would rather leave the handing out of candy to those who would enjoy it. I don’t. Nothing against the dear little children but handing out candy is just a chore to me. It means spending 2 or 3 hours (sometimes more) pretending I’m happy to see a lot of parents and children and teenagers coming to my door. I’m a introvert, not a great party host. The times I have handed out candy I really did it for the teenagers. I don’t like the way some people are ageist about Halloween. Let the teenagers trick-or-treat and don’t give them a hard time about it.

Anyway, the past three years I have left behind Halloween and done something else. I love the decorations and all the fun leading up to Halloween but on the night itself – I disappear!  Just think of it as a little Halloween magic.

Grab a Good Book – Think H.P. Lovecraft to keep in the Halloween theme

Of course, what you do while disappearing will depend on who you are. I prefer to take along a good book and hide out at the coffee shop. When it gets late enough I head along home. It is especially nice to take the bus (if the bus is available for you). Let someone else worry about driving on Halloween night with children running amok and jack-o-lanterns being smashed on the road.  It’s a good time to treat yourself to the public chauffeur.

Here are some other ideas:

  • Go to the movie theatre or a play
  • Visit someone else staying home
  • Go out for dinner, bonus if they have a Halloween special
  • Have a Halloween drink out somewhere
  • Find an adult party and dress up for Halloween
  • Run errands and pick up a few things at the mall
  • Stay overnight at a fancy hotel
  • Take your vacation time from work

There is always the Halloween staycation too. If you can keep the house looking dark from the outside and ignore the rustling at your door and around your yard (because you know there will be some who just have to try every house for candy, lights or not).

Some people would leave up a sign telling kids they aren’t doing Halloween. Some people would leave a bunch of candy for kids to pick up. Neither of these sound good to me. I think it’s smarter and simpler to just leave the lights off and pull any Halloween decorations inside the house where they won’t be seen or broken.

Retro Internet: The 1500 Point Purity Test

Long ago, in the days of the Internet surfing highway, there was a purity test with over 1000 questions. I found a copy of it. Posted for your viewing (or take the test) pleasure.

THE UNISEX PURITY TEST

If you thought the millenial purity test was bad, well you ain’t see
nuttin’ yet!

This is the 1500 point Purity Test!

We felt that the 1000 point version lost a lot of the “fun” of the
earlier versions, so we re-wrote it, adding a few new sections, and
a shitload of questions. This test is guaranteed to be nosier that
your parents, more invasive than the census, and containing something
to offend everybody.

Also included is an answer form so that you can remember where in the
test you were, or show to a friend.

Continue reading Retro Internet: The 1500 Point Purity Test

For Naughty Boys Driving Around

When you go driving around in your car with your fetish wear, do you ever think about those cameras set up to catch people going through red lights?

They are always on. Whether you go through a red light or not – you are on candid camera. Think about that next time you are driving around. There are eyes watching you each time you cross through an intersection. Who knows what happens to that film…

I wonder if someone has hooked up a camera to their home computer just to catch naughty boys on film. What would they think to see you? Would they get turned on, or laugh or maybe just watch and not give away what they are thinking. Some of them might want to punish such a naughty boy.

Just something to think about… besides I’ll be smirking at the idea of you driving along and thinking twice at each traffic light. If I were in the car with you I’d just quietly say “red light” and you would know exactly why I was smiling.

I just posted this to a man I’ve begun talking to on Fetlife. I should have been posting all my little ideas from the start. Some of them are pretty clever and I enjoy them all.

My First Divorce

Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

That was when she looked at websites about disposing of bodies. Not that he was quite a body, he was still breathing after all. But… she was only curious really.

His head was heavier than expected, kind of like a really big cabbage she’d once cooked for making cabbage rolls. She had a hard time fitting it into the pot, the cabbage, not his head. Although, cooking him was an alternative under consideration.

What do you do with an extra husband after all? Once the marriage was over, he became kind of disposable, like an extra toaster after the wedding. You could always give it away, but somehow that seemed so small minded. Why saddle someone else with your spare toaster? Even more so with a used toaster, one you had cleaned up after, slept with and all that other labour and time not so well spent. Maybe, it was really more like having a sixth finger than an extra toaster. Imagine how awkward that sixth finger would be? Holding a pen would be like a wrestling match and typing would be, well… interesting. Continue reading My First Divorce

Where the Wild Things Are: I Believe in Santa Claus

Originally posted to ‘BackWash: Where the Wild Things Are’ newsletter, December, 25, 2003.

I believe in Santa Claus. Maybe I just choose to believe. But I think there’s more to it. In part it’s the Christmas spirit generated in this season, sharing good cheer and love, friendship. Maybe it’s the atmosphere of giving and not just taking. Maybe it’s the strength of all those children who also believe in Santa Claus. All those things combine and make strong magickal forces. You may scoff all you like. But the fact is this is a powerful time of year. Each person wandering around with their own part in the whole of the Christmas spirit contributes to the power. Each good deed, each gift shared and each friend greeted is part of a huge ritual taking place.

Children traditionally set out offerings for Santa: milk and cookies, something for the reindeer and a tidbit for the elves. We send him notes asking for blessings. Santa also has ritual music and poetry, widely known and frequently chanted at this time of year. The rituals are passed on to each new child, carried along and given new life for each generation.

All those people, no matter what path they follow, know about Santa Claus. He’s the focus of the spirit of giving and good will. For children he’s the figure of authority, he who must be pleased. Cultural icon, old wives tale or commercial legend, Santa has been given power and there doesn’t need to be an actual human being for that power to exist. We don’t need to see a man in a red suit driving an air borne sleigh, packing a bottomless bag of toys to believe in Santa Claus. It’s all around us, every moment of every day in this season.

So, scoff if you choose. But, I believe in Santa Claus. I like it that way.

Merry Yule, Seasons Greetings and leave Santa a little something tonight.

The Spencer Spanking Plan, 1936

The Spencer Spanking Plan

 

By Dorothy Spencer

 

*this was written so long ago that we believe it has fallen out of copyright. In any case, if you know who Dorothy Spencer is, we’d like to give her credit for this very entertaining piece.

 

 

Foreword

Several years ago I conceived the idea of settling domestic misunderstandings in our home upon a somewhat unique basis — the giving of and submitting to carefully regulated corporal punishment. Continue reading The Spencer Spanking Plan, 1936

Make Great Opportunities Happen

7 Habits That Make Great Opportunities Happen

1. Pay attention

Value curiosity and collect information. Make a habit of interacting with your environment. Notice things that happen around you. People who notice things know more than people who don’t.

Notice the kind of preparation and responses people value.
Notice how you can make processes and meetings work better.
Notice what makes people’s lives easier, faster and more meaningful.
Notice ways that you can add value without taking something away from those around you.
Develop a habit of paying attention. You’ll grow as a person and you’ll become a natural resource to the people who work with you. It will become natural for them to think of you when new opportunities happen.

2. Think of your work as important

No matter how dull, uninteresting, or seemingly useless the project, assume a higher purpose is driving it. Bring your best talents and most dedicated attitude to it. What you think changes how you feel and what you do. People will respond to the importance you place on the work that you’re executing. Develop a habit of honoring your work. People will place more value on the work you do and start to look for opportunities where they might use your higher-level abilities.

3. Be aware of the potential of your impact

The way you look, the smile you give, the way you answer on your cellphone—each causes a response in someone you might never be told. Everything you do has an impact. When you make decisions, think them through to understand how they will affect other people. Develop a habit of considering how your actions affect the people around you. People will see that you make work easier, rather than making more work for them.

4. Imagine opportunities everywhere you look

Lucky people know that opportunity is always present. Look for ideas and trends that match your interests and your skill set. Bend and twist those ideas to make them uniquely yours. Develop a habit of looking at everything to see how you might improve it—how you’ll make it more fun, faster, cooler, friendlier, easier, quieter, more musical, lighter, more romantic, more exciting, more inviting, more anything. Choose the opportunities that benefit other people and they will support your offer to take advantage of an opportunity.

5. Make yourself a magnet for jobs you do well

Be generous offering your help and counsel. When people help you, suggest your best skills as a way you might return the favors. Be on alert for the tiniest ways to match your best work with what the people around you might be doing. Talk about your favorite projects. Develop a habit of letting people know how much you love doing what you do well. People get impressed by folks who love their work and want to help.

6. Count and record the opportunities that suit you

Small ideas and opportunities have a way of getting bigger. Research shows that things we watch and measure get bigger and more plentiful. Develop a habit of attending to what suits you. People will notice that you record ideas and opportunities. They’ll start listening and looking to find more. Soon you’ll have a network of people who are offering you ideas they’ve collected for you.

7. Decide

When an opportunity is set before you, don’t hesitate. Take the opportunity and use it to grow the skills that got you that far. You know which opportunities fit your interests and skills and which don’t. Develop a habit of taking on new opportunities as a way of growing. Be clear that you’ll always be noticing and learning and people will feel secure in offering you opportunities that grow with you.

Merry Samhain

Merry Samhain
Originally posted to Adult BackWash, my weekly column was Bait and Switch: Saturday August 03, 2002

Chris stumbled along, blindfolded and unable to see whatever he was stumbling over. He was glad to be wearing boots at least. The trail had far too many rocks and tree branches scratching his upper body. With his hands secured in front of him, he was unable to protect himself. His Governess had strapped a heavy pack onto his back and he could feel something solid thud into his back each time he stumbled. The wind blew the chill of autumn nipped at his bare skin, bringing goose bumps and shivers along his tall frame.

His Governess walked behind him encouraging him to keep moving. She used something that made the sound of a whip and had the sting of a whip too. Chris knew she didn’t own a whip though. Chris plodded along, trying to feel for his steps but not being given the time to do so with his Governess whipping his tender bottom and urging him to keep going.

It must still be daylight; he could hear birds somewhere. He could not ask the time or anything else, he was to keep silent until allowed to speak. She had brought him here, blindfolded and tied into his seat. He knew she had brought some of her scented candles. They had scented the car on the drive, a small pleasure she had not denied him. Other smells tempted his nose too. He was sure he could smell pumpkin pie, one of his favourite things. But he hadn’t seen Governess making any pies other than the apple pies from Thanksgiving. Those were long gone, all too quickly divided up with friends and family. Chris felt lucky to have had a couple of pieces himself.

“Stop your grumbling, little man.” His Governess swatted his naked bottom and laughed lightly. “Don’t think I can’t read your thoughts, if I couldn’t figure out your mumbles any way.” Playfully, she shoved him along the path.

Chris said nothing. Just in time, he remembered he was ordered to keep silent. They didn’t walk too much farther before Governess called out to him to halt. Chris was glad to be relieved of the weight of the pack. He could hear it thud on the ground behind him as she slid the straps off his shoulders.

“Be a good boy, Chris, just stand against this tree while I get everything ready. If you attempt to wander off you might fall into the ravine and get hurt. So I will be forced to tie you for your own protection if you get fidgety.” She patted his bottom firmly and left, dragging the pack along with her.

It was cold to be out in the middle of who-knows-where naked. Chris shivered and wished he could walk around or swing his arms to warm up a bit. He couldn’t hear her any more. She could be out of view by now, maybe he could at least move around in the spot where she had left him. Chris turned around in a circle once, testing his limits. Nothing happened. Chris flexed his arms and legs, driving a little of the chill from them.

Suddenly from right beside his ear, she whispered, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you little man.”

She pushed Chris against a pine tree; the bark scraped his back and bottom. She quickly looped a rope around him and then tightened it around both him and the tree. His wrists were added to the knot She ran the rope between his legs and made it just a little too snug for his comfort. He couldn’t see what she did then. But he felt well put in his place.

“That should take care of you until I’m ready for your part in today’s sacrifice.” She jerked once on the rope between his legs, digging it into his tender cock and nudging his balls uncomfortably. She laughed nastily, kissed his chest leaving him with a last biting tug on his nipple.

All at once, the word sacrifice sprang out in Chris’s mind. What could she mean by that? She couldn’t have Pagan sacrifice in mind. Sure he knew she was Pagan. She had taught him some of her ideas and beliefs. They had even done a ritual together when her Aunt had died. Chris had been very honoured to be a part of it.

She was back again, removing his boots and socks, until he stood with his feet as bare as the rest of him. He was untied from the tree she used the rope between his legs to lead him this time. The first unexpected pull was painful as it tugged his balls and dug into his cock. But then he was moving, making sure to keep up no matter how sharp the stones and cut grass were on his feet. His only real thought was how much pain he would feel if he should stumble or even fall now!

“Stop!” She ordered. Chris stopped right away. It was probably the fastest he had ever obeyed one of her orders.

“Kneel.” Chris hesitated. It was the first time she had ever asked him to kneel. He wanted to look into her face and read her thoughts. She was usually so open. He could look at her and know how she felt, what her mood was and what she was thinking. But now his eyes were covered and her thoughts were concealed.

She said nothing as they stood there with the wind blowing and the sound of a fire crackling somewhere. Time seemed to wait with them. She did not reach out to him in any way. Not a touch, a sound or a smile that he could see. Finally, Chris bent his knees and lowered himself to the ground. When he was kneeling, feeling the grit of the ground on his knees, she said merely, “Thank you.” and removed the blindfold.

Chris looked up and at last was able to see his surroundings. First, he looked at his Governess, attired in a very thin white robe with embroidered leaves and mystical symbols around the hems and sleeves. Her body, nipples hard in the cold air, easily seen through the robe. Chris looked at her face. She smiled down at him tenderly and stroked his face.

Turning his face, she showed him her preparations. There on a very large rock sat several squash and pumpkins, a vase with dried flowers, a photograph in a silver frame, some shells and rocks, a blue and silver bowl with water in it, and candles not yet lit. Just to the side of the rock she had a bonfire going.

“Come and be on my altar Chris, watch out for the circle I have dug into the dirt. Chris then noticed the ground and was quick to keep from stepping on the edge of the circle. She guided him to sit and then lie on the rock, in the middle of the pumpkins, rocks and candles. Behind his ear she tucked a sprig of rosemary. Chris remembered ‘rosemary for remembrance’. His wrists still caught in front of him. Chris stayed in place; almost feeling to move would be interrupting something very sacred and personal.

His Governess stepped away from him then and began talking in a voice too soft for him to hear. The words had rhythm and Chris thought she was reading poetry to someone. It wasn’t for his ears. At different times she tossed things into the fire. Once he noticed her tossing in what seemed to be a piece of paper with a list on it. She looked at the sky, the ground and off into the four directions while she spoke. It was getting dark and the fire was dying down when she stopped.

“I’m going to release your hands now Chris.” Governess said as she did so. “I want you to lie still for me now while I give the sacrifice for the cycle of life, death and rebirth.” Governess moved his hands to the sides of his body and removed her robe. Her fingers, only a little chilly, wrapped around his cock. She began rhythmically stroking his shaft while she spoke about the cycle of life. Chris began to get hard as she worked on his cock. She knew just how to stroke him to get the most of his reaction.

“Chris, I am going to use you as a sacrifice to the cycles of nature. I don’t want you to speak or interrupt in any other way. Just lie back and everything will be over in a little while.” She whispered near his ear, smoothing one hand over the skin of his belly. Her fingers dipped low, making Chris squirm in pleasure. “Mmmm. that’s my good boy,” She whispered.

She stood over him then, removing her hands from his body. Chris couldn’t keep back the moan of displeasure as her hands left him and the chill air seemed to seep slowly back into his skin. She placed a rock, a shell, a stick burnt from the fire and a feather on his belly. Then she climbed on the rock and carefully straddled him. This time she stroked his cock firmly, the kind of attention she gave him when she wanted him to get hard quickly. It worked just as it always did. Chris was unable to hold back moans of pleasure, his squirming almost made the bowl of water and the rock fall from his belly. Governess managed to hold them in place with her other hand.

Just as Chris thought he would have to start pumping his hips and let everything fall, she stopped. Chris could hear nothing over his heavy breathing. She was silent for a long time, so it seemed to Chris waiting desperately for her attention to return to him. Then she picked up the picture of her Aunt and kissed it. She pressed the picture to Chris’s lips. Lovingly she returned it to its place on the rock, somewhere just over Chris’s head. As she leant over him, Chris tried to catch her nipples in his mouth. She wasn’t allowing that however and she lightly slapped his cheek in reprimand.

With only her fingertips she lightly stroked his cock, keeping him very hard and not letting him loose any interest in the proceedings. She removed the bowl of water and placed on the rock around him. Chris knew there was some order she followed but her attentive fingers wouldn’t let him think enough to remember what that was. She spoke a few soft words; a very poetic sounding speech.

“I want you to come for me this time my Chris. This will be life, as your sperm carries life within it.” She placed her lips around the head of his cock and sucked on him hard. Chris’s hips bucked the warmth of her mouth felt too good to his aching cock. He came in another minute, arching his back and pumping his come into her mouth. She swallowed some of it and let the rest spurt out over her breasts and belly. Scooping some off herself she pushed her finger between his lips and wiped it off on his tongue. Scooting her hips back along his thighs, she kissed his softening cock.

“You are doing very well little one. Soon we will be done and I can take you home, warm you up and put you all snug in your own little bed. This next part you won’t like nearly as much. But when we are done and all cleaned up I have some homemade pumpkin pie for you. I know you were feeling sad not to have had more of the apple pies we made.” She lightly skimmed his belly with her fingernails as she talked. It wasn’t long before Chris felt his cock begin to stir to life again.

“That’s a good boy. I want you to get nice and hard for me again. We have done the cycles of life and death, now is the time for rebirth.” Chris didn’t know what she had in mind. If the next orgasm was as good as the first he didn’t really care.

Governess worked on his cock with her lips, teeth and nails. In only minutes Chris was again as hard as before. His hips strained underneath her, his cock twitched, aching for the release she would give him when she decided he was ready. His breathing became fast and shallow all his attention focused on one area of his body. In the back of his brain, he had enough power to hear his whimpering while he strained under her expert touch.

“That is very good Chris. You may not come this time. I will let you rest there while I pack everything up now. When you have yourself sorted out come and get pie. I have it tucked away in my pack.”

She rolled off his straining, aching body and began gathering up her rocks and shells casually as if he wasn’t lying on that rock barely able to keep from screaming. Chris looked down his chest his cock was purple and streaming juice out still. Taking one deep breath and forcing himself to hold it, he asked, “Why?”

“Your sacrifice Chris. I did tell you I wanted you as my sacrifice.”

When Chris would have reached for his cock and put himself out of his misery she scolded him, “No, no don’t you be a bad boy. I want that cock to stay hard awhile longer.”

Chris groaned in frustration and a little anger. He rolled off the rock and watched her put the last of her things in the packs. “Put on your pack and I will feed you pie as we walk back to the car. Oh! You need your boots on still. Go run down over there and fetch them. I will start walking and meet you down the hill where the trail begins.”

She turned and left. Chris followed, looking for his boots. He wasn’t sure which tree to look under. He grumbled as his feet managed to find every sharp twig on the way.

When he finally found her he was just cold. His erection was as cold as the rest of him. He gave her a look showing her as much of his misery as he could fit into it. She only smiled and handed him his clothes.

“I bet you are glad I brought these with us. I know something else that will brighten you up. There is a little town just a half-hours drive from here. There is a very nice hotel there and we have a room booked for the rest of the night.” She grinned at him. “Are you ready for that pie now?”

Chris thought Halloween might not be a write off after all. “Can I trick or treat?”

She laughed huskily, “I’m so wet right now you can trick or treat all night long little boy.”

Rufus, the Monster Truck

Originally posted to Adult BackWash, my weekly column was Bait and Switch: Friday July 19, 2002

I drove the old Ford truck today. These days it looks more like something you would leave out in the back 40 acres for picking up hay bales now and then. It does seem to run ok, I didn’t have any trouble with it. I thought I might when I got my first real look at it. I hadn’t seen it since Todd and I drove around in it while we were still dating. I guess that is 3 years ago, or more. Poor old truck, I felt sorry for it.

It was “interesting” to drive. I can’t pick another word. Not challenging exactly, I didn’t have any real problems. It was exciting. All that horse power (all 8 or so of them) and the hugeness of the truck itself. When I stood outside the truck it was taller than I am. Just to get in I had to half climb up to the seat. Rufus, as I began to call him, could easily drive right over most of those other cars on the road and I would have just thought it was roadkill.

Driving Rufus was fun, if a little too exciting, around some of those corners. Rufus just has so much power, one tap on the gas and he wants to fly off the handle. At one tight corner I thought the whole truck was going to tip over and tumble down into the ditch.

On the deserted backroad, well paved but no cars or houses, I let Rufus have his head. I could tell he wanted to all day, he was just holding back. Just a bit of pressure on the gas and Rufus surged forward with a roar. I took it up to just over 120 K. Rufus is old but I could tell he would have liked me to let him race and hit that 140 K mark where the spedometer ends and its just Rufus and the bare roadway ahead. But I held him back, images of small animals and pedestrians pushing themselves into my mind.

I’d definitely take Rufus out on another date. Beat up as he is, he had a powerful, masterly style. I told him, if he was a real man I’d go for him, all the way.

Laundry Day

Laundry Day
Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Monday April 22, 2002

Chris stood a little back from the wooden fence and watched the children walking to school. Most walked in pairs he noticed. Some carried lunch pails or books. Many had those backpacks slung over one shoulder. He was grateful they were too busy laughing and watching each other to notice the naked man tied to the clothesline in their neighbour’s backyard. The fence with its thick, angled boards worked well to hide him. Chris sheltered behind the fence, knowing he was not invisible. He could feel the blush rise in his cheeks each time one of the kids looked in the direction of the fence.

If he stretched his neck he could just manage to see his Governess inside watching the early news with her second coffee. Unfortunately he had spilled the first pot, all over the bed, soaking the sheets. She ordered him to strip himself after he stripped the bed. As soon as he made a fresh pot of coffee, and served it properly, she instructed him to go outside exactly as he was. The locking collar was around his neck, a chain of paper clips were threaded through the ring in the collar and then around the clothesline. The paperclip chain was a test of his obedience. Of course, he could “escape” any time if he chose to. But that was not the point nor was it what he really wanted. He wanted his Governess’ control, her dominance, sometimes she found ways for him to prove to himself (and show her of course) just how much he wanted it.

He was out here, feeling very exposed, until the sheets were washed and dried to her satisfaction. He wasn’t sure if she planned to machine dry them or put them on the line. He was hoping she would decide it was too chilly yet for them to dry outside. At the very least, he could hope she would want his help in making the bed. Chris smiled thinking of making the bed with his Governess and sometimes unmaking it before it was ever made.

Inside he heard the washing machine finish. His Governess was watching something about a cougar at the local Zoo. Chris almost dared to get a branch he had noticed at the far end of the clothesline and use it to tap on the window. However, she would probably just ignore him. As Chris watched, the last of the school kids turned the corner and were gone. That gave him one less thing to worry about. The morning seemed to be warming up slowly. His goosebumps were fading slightly, or perhaps he was adjusting to the colder air. A few birds were still chatting in the trees. They were probably wondering if they could get the shrinking worm hanging there on that ridiculous naked man allowing himself to be tied to the clothesline like a dog.

His Governess’ appearance startled him from his thoughts. She carried the laundry basket with the freshly washed sheets. “Hang them on the line while you are out here Chris.” She laughed and put the basket down in his reach.

Chris tried his best sad little smile, hoping for some sign of sympathy, maybe even a reduction in sentence, no such luck. “I’ll bring you out a coffee,” She said, already turning to go.

“Its cold out here, Governess,” Chris called after her.

“You aren’t blue yet Chris,” he heard her laughing as the door closed behind her.

He was hanging the fitted sheet when she brought a steaming, hot coffee in his dog bowl and set it on the railing of the deck. “Poor doggie, you are chained up too tight to reach your dish if I leave it on the ground for you. I wouldn’t want to be accused of animal abuse or neglect so I will leave it right here for you my little doggie. Drink while it’s still hot.”

“Thank you Governess,” Chris said, trying out a sad puppy look.

“My little Chris, you have no idea how hot it is making me to have you tied up naked out here. I’m not even sure just what it is I like especially. You can be sure we will be doing it again.” She grinned, running a hand over his bottom cheeks.

Chris dreaded the idea of having to expose himself outside again. Already he was thinking the sheets couldn’t take more than half an hour to dry and surely it would be over then. He planned to stay indoors the rest of the day, once she finally let him get inside of course.

“I’m picturing how wonderful it will be to have you out here doing your yard work like this. How nice it will be to have nothing between your skin and my line of sight as I watch you sweat, strain and work outside. I do believe you will get lucky today little Chris, outside once I release you from your household duties. How lucky you spilled that coffee after all. This is turning out to be such a yummy day.” His Governess had that sparkle of mischief and fun in her eyes. Chris felt pleased to have pleased his Governess so well, yet the method of it left him feeling less than pleased.

Watching her all but skip back into the house Chris felt safe to grimace. He looked up at the sky, but it was getting clearer and bluer and warmer, not much chance for rain today. He hung out the pillowcases and pulled the line out to leave the sheets fluttering in the morning breeze. The coffee was still hot. He drank it gratefully, feeling the hot liquid pour down his throat leaving a trail of warmth.

Inside he could hear his Governess tossing in another load of laundry, washing the breakfast dishes and bagging up garbage. She almost missed the truck. Those were all his usual jobs, but he was rather tied up at the moment. At least she hadn’t forgotten garbage day; it wouldn’t have been pretty in the garage if it all had to wait until next week to be picked up.

Peeking through the fence, he could see her chatting with the men at the end of the driveway, probably laughing about nearly missing them. She was wearing a long denim dress now. It covered her well but the neckline tended to slip off her shoulders. He could see one bare shoulder now. A surge of annoyance flickered in him as he thought the garbage men probably noticed the bare shoulder and knew she was braless. If she was braless, she was most likely pantieless too. Chris consoled himself with the fact that the garbage men couldn’t know that just from seeing one bare shoulder. Even the bare shoulder could just be a slipped strap though less likely for a woman with his Governess’ large breasts. Those beautiful, firm, round, soft breasts with the perfect rose pink nipples… Chris wasn’t feeling the chill quite as much now. He was feeling something all together different.

The supersoaker hit him mid-chest. The attack of warm water made him jump a foot in the air at least. He had been so distracted he hadn’t even noticed his Governess approach with the huge, well- armed supersoaker. She aimed lower this time. Wetting his already wet cock.

“My, my Chris what were you thinking,” she laughed and shot more water at his cock. “What a naughty boy you can be. I can’t imagine what could get you so turned on about sheets flapping in the breeze.” With a last shot of warm water at his bottom this time, she indicated another load of laundry dumped in the basket. “Bring the sheets down and then you can hang out the next batch. How nice it is to have a laundry man to fold and fluff and guard the line of ash too. You never know when the laundry marauders could swoop down and cart it all away.” Laughing, she held her arms out for the sheets and pillowcases as he took them off the line and folded them for her.

Again, she left him. This time he was exposed and aroused and feeling more like some old pervert than he ever thought he could. Not that 37 was old, not over the hill or even half way. He had his health and now with his Governess keeping him on her unique fitness plan he was looking pretty good, so what if his belly wasn’t as flat as it was at 20. Governess seemed to like it, she nibbled on him and rubbed and kneaded him during sex. Sure he would rather be some God-like perfect man for her but she never showed any sign of not wanting to play with his belly or the rest of his body.

Chris sighed as his arousal grew. He really > did need to think about something else. She would be sure he was enjoying his exposure if she saw him aroused all day.

Chris finished the lukewarm coffee from his dog dish. The second batch of clothes was hung and drying. There were denim jeans this time. Not a good sign for his early release from the clothesline. Peeking in the window again he looked and listened for some sign of his Governess. It seemed quiet in the house. Would she have gone out and left him? She did like to take her walk in the morning. Dare he take advantage of that for a quick trip to the bathroom and a hot shower? He listened, hoping to hear something. Hearing nothing gave him hope, though it could be very misleading if she was working on the computer in the spare room. Chris waited a little longer.

Hearing nothing after what seemed a long time, he decided to take the chance. By now his bladder was badly in need of relief. He could wait for the shower if he had to. Although a hot shower would feel indecently good after standing outside most of the morning. Chris unclipped two paperclips and set himself free. He felt extremely naughty, a truly disobedient boy, as he quickly dashed across the grass and into the house. He waited, just inside the door, listening. Hearing nothing, he headed to the bathroom. The supersoaker hit him in the small of his back this time. “Freeze!” ordered his Governess.

Chris stood still; past punishments for disobeying her orders flew through his mind. Governess did not make punishments pleasant. “I really need to pee Governess. Your little boy just couldn’t wait any longer, I’m sorry.”

“OK Chris, go into the bathroom.” She followed him in.

“I will be right out again Governess,” Chris said a touch anxiously.

She pushed firmly on his bottom until he was standing in front of the toilet. “Hold your arms out from your sides Chris.” She took his cock in her hand and pointed it at the toilet. “Pee now,” she ordered. Chris felt a blush begin down at his toes and consume his whole body. He wasn’t sure if he could pee with her holding his cock. However, need took over and thoroughly humiliated and miserable, he let his Governess help him pee. When it began to trickle down she asked, “All done little man?”

“Yes, thank you Governess.” Chris managed to say. She took a square of toilet paper and dried the end of his cock. She took her time, playing with him, accidentally-on-purpose rubbing her thumb over and over the head of his cock.

“Now little guard dog, you should get yourself chained back out there and if you are really good I will bring you another load of washing. This time it will all be delicates. That should give you some interesting thoughts while you wait for it to dry.” She held his cock using it as a leash to guide him out of the bathroom and back outside. “How would you like me to fill your doggie dish with water again? Are you really, really thirsty for more, little Chris?” She laughed at the horrified look Chris wasn’t able to hold back.

“Bring in any of those clothes that have dried before you chain yourself again.” She left him standing outside the door. When he heard the tap running in the kitchen, he went on his way quickly.

It seemed hours later, watching her bras and panties tease him from their lofty perch on the clothesline. He couldn’t help but cop a feel of a few of the just washed undies. His fingers smoothed over the silky cups of her bras, pressing in the centres where her nipples would poke out at him, always teasing him. The feel of her washed and still damp panties excited him, he became hard very fast. He had found one pair with a trace of her scent still on them. He hung that little silky treasure out last, nearest to his paperclip chain at the end of the line.

Time passed, the sun warmed the yard and dried even the thick jeans. The panties were long dry by then; he missed them though he could almost fool himself that the smell yet lingered on his fingers. His cock was fooled. He was still stiff and quite ready for some time alone with his Governess and her soft round body, naked under that dress. Chris groaned, trying to find something else to concentrate his attention on.

“You have been an excellent laundry guard dog today little Chris. Though you are not so little in some places.” She giggled.” Chris has a stiffy, Chris has a stiffy, Chris has a stiffy,” she chanted, tormenting him and laughing at his blush.

She unchained him and he felt his cock bob in appreciation. Having her take his chain and lead him was doing almost as much for his arousal as the panties had. Her domination, being owned by her was brought home to him in a big way. He was beginning to feel desperate for her to use his body, to take his cock, her cock really.

“Please Governess your little boy has been good today. Could I have a reward, please” Chris asked.

She led him to the sunniest corner in the back yard. “Kneel down on the grass Chris. I have been watching you all day, from the windows and the screen door. You have made me very wet. Just thinking of you naked and chained outside has made me want your services little man.” She pulled her dress over her head and off in one smooth movement. She was deliciously naked as he knelt before her.

Chris could only answer with a groan. His Governess’ pussy was right in front of his face. He could see the damp curls. He could lean his face into her and taste them if she would allow him to. He wanted to so very, very much. Struggling for control he said, “May I serve you now Governess?” He looked at her pussy, inhaling the scent so close to the source, wanting so much to hold her hips and ass as his tongue plundered, tasted and sucked deep inside her hot juiciness.

She stood closer to his face, pressing her pussy up to almost touch his lips. Standing before him she opened her legs and said, “Serve me little man.” She dug her hands into his hair as his face began to burrow into her warm dripping pussy. He put one hand on her bottom to steady her and used the other to open the lips of her pussy wider for his penetration. Through his own noises he could hear her moans of pleasure and desire. She was driving him over edge too soon. He had to draw back.

He was panting heavily as he looked up at her face. Her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back, her lips slightly open. She noticed his absence from her pussy and ground herself against his face. His own hips humped once, twice, his control almost gone. Still, he held his Governess and lowered her to the grass, opening her legs wider and playing with every fold and bump inside her pussy. He sucked and nipped at her nipples and gave her body caresses in all the places he knew would most arouse and excite her. Then, only when she finally asked for his cock did he enter her pussy. He nearly came before his first thrust inside her. Her legs wrapped tightly around him, forcing him deeper. She again lifted her hips and ground her pussy onto his cock. The little whimpering sounds she made robbed him of his last ounce of control and he pumped into her hard and fast. In his mind he was begging her to cum with him, knowing he was so close he could reach out and bite it. Just as his control slipped and he felt his balls tighten and begin to spurt their load inside her he felt her body tighten and pulse around him, cumming a second before he did himself.

Much later, after a shared shower and a dash out into the gathering darkness for the forgotten laundry on the line, they sat cuddled together on the couch. “Next time you play hookey from work I’m going to have you do yard work in the nude.” She grinned up at his blushing face, then took his hand and led him away for a bedtime story that would last long past his bedtime.