235 A Dairy Conversion (5) free porn video

235 A Dairy conversion (5)
Over breakfast next day with Ann sitting on a cushion, I asked her had she any regrets, to which she shook her head, in return she asked the same of me and all I could do was smile and say, “not so far.”
I gave her a list of requirements from her work; fortunately, staff discount would reduce the cost, though none were particularly expensive items anyway. Just as we were closing the door our postman arrived with a parcel this one in good condition, so the package remained unopened in our hall all day.
At Tea that night we sat and opened it to find a wicked looking tawse, one side flat leather, the other with some serious looking studs, a shudder ran through Ann as she surveyed the thing, saying that “she felt that may be a step too far, especially at this stage.” I tended to agree, as frankly the thing scared the crap out of me.
After the meal by unspoken mutual consent we deliberately didn`t play as we needed to pace ourselves, especially Anne who still was troubled with a tender backside and hers is a sitting at a desk type job, though she did say every move she had made reminded her of that climax!
I began on the extension to bell and phone, which took a fair time. The chains proved simple to fit though, she had picked well they were strong and of large light crome links. They hung down from the beams, from eye rings about eight feet apart, though the eye-rings on the old heavy ribbed tile floor took a fair bit of drilling. The lift was easiest a short chain around the roof truss being enough the lift being central between the chains. My labours over I retreated to the house, tomorrow would be another day...hopefully …though we had decided that ‘in the week play would be softer and less damaging if at all!’
The weekend soon came around again our project was really beginning to take shape now, new fridge in the kitchen moved our old one to our second home, a new kettle, and the old sofa from the kitchen had been installed at Ann`s insistence having decided that sitting a sore backside on the hard bench was not the best feeling she had ever had.
We had not had time to “play “anyway this week as I had been on overtime, and time had beaten us a bit, however on Friday we had a call from the post office saying the rest of the contents of the damaged parcel had been found and me being on over-time it fell to Ann to collect. I laughed at the thought of her facing that leering clerk.
On her way home, an unsuspecting Ann went in to do just that and just as I expected, the leering clerk handed over, unwrapped of course, a whip and a crop, to her horror having heard what was afoot, just about every postie for miles appeared at the desk. She later told me her face was the colour of a beetroot!
He had her sign for them which took a little while as well, so by the time she arrived home she was just a touch annoyed, however her new vibrators had arrived on our mat from the ordinary post, so she soon felt a bit better.
The overtime, an urgent order for overseas, went on till late, and again on Saturday all day, so it was Sunday a very wet south-eastern seaside Sunday before we could spend time together though I suspect the vibrators had had a hammering.
After a bit of a lay in, we knew it was time to test the new kit so out to the dairy I went and lit the heater while she did breakfast then we sat clinically trying to decide the best course of action over the meal, while the chill went off outside.
It being Sunday we needed not to have bruises and the like for Monday, so we got out the milker and the Vaseline then the leather restraint cuffs which fitted on Ann`s wrists snugly, by now the temperature was passable so off came her clothes, and up she stood with her arms above her head while I attached her wrists to the lift. Then it was a case of raising her till she was just on her tip-toes. The look of satisfaction on her face said it all, as I greased her nipples, then began pumping the old crank milking machine, attaching the cups as before, a sublime look came on her face. With no gag this time Ann could tell me her most inner thoughts, so cranking madly I began to ask what of the story that started all this had she found the most exciting and which did she want to try, all the while I kept the pump turning faster than normal, raising the suck power! She began to explain her innermost fantasy`s knowing until she did I would not slow my ministrations and already her nipples were becoming tender.
She started with that holiday surprise story from hamster, by telling me how in part 1 the use of the cane on the breasts, had started her off, she went on to say that climaxing in public was another thing that she thought she would enjoy, as was the reading of the sentence before punishment. She said that the number of strokes in a given punishment should be some form of chance game but not as complicated as the system at the homestead in the story. She begged me to stop pumping and promised to reveal her other secrets if I did. I ignored her suspecting she was playing for time out till she used the safe word and I quickly stopped. The cups fell away instantly, leaving two very red tender nipples, so I left her suspended and fetched my tablet, found chapter 4 and began to read the next chapter to her, I came to the section on riding the horse and her groans and the constant chafing of her thighs together told me all I needed to know, though I said nothing, continuing as if I had noticed nothing at all. The next was using a cat which I already knew the effect of.
She had already said that she was not going to be branded at any price, so I skipped a bit and went on to the next chapter. She had said that insects were out though when I got to the piece she seemed interested, but when I asked specifically she mumbled “perhaps”, which raised my eyebrows a bit. Lifting by the breasts had an effect, but what really got her to the brink was the fitting of the pussy rings and the piercing of the nipples her juice was now running down her legs so turned on was she but her poor hands were turning a blue shade, so I lowered her, flat feet to the floor; I had enough to be going on with now that I knew more of my lady’s inner mind. Taking pity on her, her vibrator had her climaxing in just a few seconds to the point of collapse.
Mundanely we stopped for something to eat, no Sunday lunch for us today just a light lunch and a glass of cold lager, then like k**s with a new toy, back to our dairy. I soon found myself up on the cross, not facing the rough wall this time, but facing my wife; hardly had she secured me when to my surprise the milker reappeared and she was smothering my prick in Vaseline. A blanking plug in one of the cups and the other was quickly plugged onto the tip of my member! As the handle began to turn, the thing slowly sucked itself onto the length of my swelling organ, what started as a gentle sucking, slowly became a near unbearable pain as she too began to crank the thing faster.
Ann smiled then began to ask of my darkest fantasies, I was very much not disposed to argue and began with the fantasy she already knew about, sharing her with another. She slowed her pumping to a lower level while she asked who, But I had no special bull in mind, which seemed to be a point well in my favour, I also had a wish to see her with an a****l, preferably a dog, to this she looked shocked, and a little thoughtful, but said nothing, she stopped pumping to my immense relief and removed the cup, dragging it roughly from my stiff member. She now began flicking my nipples with her new crop, alternating with the odd tap at my prick, still tender from the milker, my threshold must have been fairly low, as my seed splashed the floor quite quickly.
We were soon indoors, our day over, another week of work stretching in front of us both, we each had much to think of. Mutually we came perhaps reluctantly to the conclusion that the only practical days to use our new “dairy” for BDMS purposes were Friday night and Saturdays as we needed at least a day to overcome the initial effects of any welts and bruises before work. Midweek Wednesdays, and perhaps Sundays we could “fit in” a little bondage and non-damaging sexual freedom, to spice up the working week.
When this open minded reformed lifestyle had started, we had bought some odd items to enable us to pursue this path which included; gags, whips, bondage gear and vibrators, one of which was a Deluxe remote radio-controlled model with a range of 100 feet which so far we had not used. I decided this was to be the next though I did not enlighten the good lady.
It being a bank holiday we were both day off on the Monday so I decided we would have a run out onto the Romney marsh the site of the erotic story that started all this, In the hope that we could prove or disprove the truthfulness of the story, while we could enjoy a picnic and perhaps a sexual adventure to boot.
We had a lazy breakfast sitting in our pyjamas, and discussing what clues were in the story, a bit like Sherlock Holmes we scrutinised our ordinance survey map.
Ann said that”as the campsite was at or near the beach and that there were sand dunes everywhere else really being shingle and a cafe on the beach it must be near the sands at camber,” well that fitted, as did the river estuary, the river Rother did just that, so there is where we decided to make a start.
We began to get dressed both of us in jeans and a tea shirts, but before Ann managed to pull on her Jean`s, I slipped the radio vibrating egg into her sex with a sly grin, her face broke into a smile as she continued to dress and I gave her a short burst of slow vibes just to test the egg.
We were soon on the way noting as we arrived at Camber that there were a couple of pubs just behind the beach, it all fitted, at least to us, by now Ann had got used to the small egg being tucked inside her body, its Ariel, a short wire hanging down her leg, ensuring the thing didn`t vanish inward, I had deliberately not used it so far.
We entered the first of the pubs but it really did not fit the image either of us had of our target; however we were in now so we decided to have a pint.
I popped into the toilet so Ann went to the bar and ordered our drinks, on my return she was just paying which was when I pressed her “on” button and advanced the speed dial. The result was spectacular to say the least, as Ann picked up the pints the vibrator struck, like a jolt of electric shock. She nearly fell, and the pints crashed back onto the bar to her total embarrassment. The barman looking concerned asked if she was OK as she gripped the edge of the bar to steady herself her face reddening till I switched off the egg as I, all outwardly concerned helped her to a chair, all commiserations and sympathy, whispering to the barman as I collected the drinks that it was “women`s troubles ,she was on the change“.
We soon drank up and moved to the other pub, where Ann refused to fetch the drinks. That pub fitted the details we were looking for perfectly and we decided to have lunch. I set the control to slow pulse and then pressed go, Ann became most interested in her newly arrived meal quietly cursing me under her breath. She was beginning to breathe heavily when I switched the egg off; she growled at me I was “a total shit.”
I ignored her then struck up a conversation with the barman, explaining we were looking for some friends who we thought perhaps used this pub regularly. He told us he had only been working here for a month or two as relief for the summer and he had never seen a group of three people who fitted the description we gave. Ann shot me a glance that said “told you so!” she was to eat those words.
The meal over we decided to try and find "the homestead", so bidding the barman goodbye we were soon in the motor and set off for the military canal, the only canal for miles, there were a dozen or so possible houses we had marked on our map, so we spent a pleasant hour or two wandering around looking for likely spots
We were probably reported by the local neighbourhood watch as casing the more remote bungalows, as there appeared a local panda car complete with original red faced Sussex cop, who, oh so casually stopped us and asked what we were at! I got out and explained that we were looking for a marsh bungalow to buy and after he had checked our identity he then suggested that there was only one for sale out here that he knew of, that was about a mile away and known as the homestead!
We could not believe our luck but said nothing. He doubted if we would like that though as it was so remote, he went on to give directions on our map and then went on his cheery way.
We set off again though by now, we both needed to pee, and Ann was begging me to switch off the egg I had forgotten still on slow pulse. Fortunately, the homestead soon hove into sight, a for sale notice proclaiming the place was empty.
Having knocked the door we peered through the windows and saw that the place was still furnished and furnished just as we had read. We nipped around the place and desperately now relieved ourselves on the grass at the back. Anne lying along the table of the camp seat saying she thought this was where EVE the lady with the lack of voice had been branded I noticed her voice raising a little as she relived the happening.
We located the ant hill, still seething with big black ants, and the stout securing posts still in place. We did a quick scout around finding the veranda, with its beam`s just as described in the blessed story and there was a double-garage with its door`s long secured and painted over, it all fitted
I took the telephone number from the for-sale sign and rang it to see if we could look over the place, but sadly it being a bank holiday there was no answer, so we decided to return another day, preferably with the key. Amazed at finding such an accurate described place, we slowly drove away, both silently wondering why the place was now for sale and knowing that we would return like lemmings to a cliff. The plot we decided had thickened!
Tuesday, back to the working grind, though I managed to call the estate agent to arrange to view the homestead during my dinner break, he said that a lady had rung earlier about that home, and that it had been a month on the market and suddenly two in a day had asked about it. I arranged to collect the keys from the Rye office of the agent on the Saturday morning, thanked him and went thoughtfully back to work.
Over tea that night Anne explained that we needed to go to Rye on Saturday morning to pick up a set of keys it was she who had rung, and it was she who was the other interested party! Talk about not communicating…!
Wednesday came and went as did Thursday so by Friday we were both keen to get down to the dairy the instant our meal was over. However, Ann first imparted news of her promotion she was now under-manager in her accounting department and her pay was greatly increased though now she only had to work a 4day week, unfortunately that would include 1 day every weekend.
Rain slashed against the window, so dressed in track suits we ran to the door under a golf umbrella, glad we had had the presence of mind to put on the heat before we had eaten. Thunder rolled outside as we began to strip off our suits, revelling in the warmth of our little dairy, Anne threw the darts first, to decide who would give and who would receive on this wet miserable night. Thud the first dart scored a 5, the second a 7, the third a triple 3…21 she laughed nervously, me next, thud a 19, her face was a picture, the second dart hit the 1 sector, I laughed, what could beat this now, then taking careful aim I threw the last dart, twang, the blessed thing hit a wire glanced off and fell to the floor, I was no longer laughing! Next, we threw for strokes just one dart apiece, the scores added, a 5 for me and Ann suddenly found her form with a double top, blast, 45 in total.
I was soon in cuffs hanging from the two chains, my gag jammed between my teeth, and the blindfold covering my eyes. Whap, the first stroke set my back on fire, then the second, third and fourth, I braced for the fifth but there was silence and a pause.
Seconds passed the fire began to cool, then suddenly Whap, Whap, Whap, and Whap again. A cool hand wrapped itself round my chest, a soothing smooth cool hand, that twisted my nipples gently, I began to enjoy the caress, Suddenly. a sharp pain rocketed through the nipples, as a peg clamped onto each, the hand withdrew but before I could comprehend the nipple pain the cat landed again, Whap, Whap, Whap, Whap. In a sea of pain now my nipples a pair of screaming pain points and my back a red-hot spider`s web of stinging red streaks, I sensed more was coming this time unexpectedly a spiralling stroke that wrapped itself round my lower right leg. It was quickly followed by one to the left, then one to each shoulder. There followed a flurry of strokes wrapping themselves around my arms, legs, back, hips, there was no pieces of my body that were safe, my whole body glowing with a fiery heat as I felt my climax rising as the last few blows fell in rapid succession I felt my hot seed spraying from my rigid penis, as the final blow struck across my bruised red buttocks. Anne whispered that she had enjoyed herself more than she had ever done before and had had a wild orgasm just as I climaxed.
Still hung and gagged as I was I could only listen as she caressed my wounds and whispered that it was her turn next, that she wanted to be whipped but at the homestead. She began removing first those infernal pegs then my gag, blindfold and wristlets, taking her time and gently caressing the livid stripes on my back as she did so. I collapsed into the sofa to get my breath back when the extension phone rang startling both of us.
It was her mother, perfectly timed as usual, with her free hand Ann put the kettle to boil while assuring the old bat that we were both in the pink of health, if anything I was more in the pink than her...This with a wry smile in my direction, as she began to make the tea, gripping the phone twix her head and shoulder, as I began to gently stroke her backside, she began to struggle to keep her voice even, as she answered her beloved mothers questions, my hand straying between her legs.
I wondered what she would say if she could see what we were doing and how we were dressed, my mother-in law not being known for her humour and sociability, in fact she would do well as an undertaker or a stand in for Boris Karloff her face not being known to crack a smile from one-years-end to another.
I gently pulled my wife onto my lap, allowing my stiffening dick to slide into her waiting wet pussy, her mother having drawn breath started on about her dog having piles or some such, my wife grunting answers as best she could and my dick sliding about in her wet channel with a mind of its own. I knew I could not last a long time in my present state of arousal, my strokes began to become more rapid, and Ann was squirming, desperately trying to talk sense, her mind wandering to what I was doing, more than concentrating on her old mum`s ramblings. At last the old girl said she had to go, Ann looked relieved, bidding the woman an ultra hasty goodbye, blowing her a kiss as she hung up and as we began a massive climax Again, her head swinging from side to side her eyes rolling her breath in huge gasps as my hot spray splashed deep into her grasping body.
Over tea we discussed the evening, Ann saying how much she enjoyed inflicting pain on a subject, that as I had, twitched and jumped with every stroke, I had not noticed, being too preoccupied with both pegs and a back that was a sheet of exquisite pain had concentrated the mind to the exclusion of all else. She said that she had devised a method to stop excessive movement she wouldn`t tell me what it was, but that she would use it next time it was my turn.
We discussed over that tea the coming visit to the homestead, Ann being Ann suggested we take our track suits and a few toys, though she was not specific as to which. We talked about the remotely controlled egg, which she had worn for our last trip to the marsh, she said how much the slow pulse did for her, but that the sudden rush from the first burst at the bar had “blown her away” and that it had embarrassed her splashing the glasses down as she did. I asked her about certain other things from the original story. What, now we had had a session or two did she find the biggest turn on, had she now, other scenarios that were more of a priority.
I was more than a little surprised when she said yes, and that her ideas had changed, she had originally said insects were out, but having seen the ant nest; she had been more than a little roused. She also wanted us to wear something to mark us and to reassure me that she would always be so, but felt that a branding would be just too painful.
For me, she said she wanted to try another man at some stage, and if the right one came along she would try a dog “for me”, as a special treat for her birthday.
She wanted to ride the pony one day something we both wanted, she especially had this down on her must do fantasy list.
As we dozed off in bed an hour later I having made a mental note to ask Ann to ask the old biddy to ring regularly on Thursday evenings for her weekly chat from now on, (which would leave us to ourselves out in our wonderful dairy on Fridays) as we would be going to country dancing or platting rush mats or some other fascinating hobby on Friday`s from now on.
Tomorrow we were going to the homestead, Tomorrow would be another day, in one another`s arms we gently drifted off to sleep.
Saturday dawned grey but with the promise of a fine day, we dressed, had a quick breakfast, each threw a track suit and a few toys into a bag and were on the way to Rye by 9 am. We found the estate agent and collected the key, promising to return them by close of play. The young man told us that one of the occupants had died and the owner now wanted to sell quickly as he found it too painful to remain in the place. The price I noted was very reasonable, off puttingly the young man saying that the place was locally reputed to be haunted! It would seem that screams had been heard regularly from the direction of the building, I was not surprised though said nout, but I did think that the young fellow needed a course in selling!
We set off onto the marsh after collecting a bag of buns and filled rolls from the local baker as well as a bottle of pop apiece. It was fully 11.45 by the time we arrived at the homestead, the sun now warm as we arrived in the gravel parking spot outside the bungalow. Ann opened the front door, with its big old-fashioned key, the door swung back and that smell of disuse met us as we entered the dingy hallway, the power was off but the bright day and the open curtains made the living room a welcome little haven, it was just as described in the story and it was so welcoming we both fell instantly in love with the little place. The kitchen was a reasonable size as were both bedrooms and the bathroom and there was a massive grass garden front and back, and somewhere to park 2 or 3 motors. We however had to find our way into the garage as it was our reason we had thought, to be there.
We found a slim door in the kitchen that looked like a cupboard; it led down two carpeted steps in a dark short passageway into the erstwhile garage, the dirty skylight panels just struggling to illuminate the big open space, in which there were two huge leather armchairs one with a number of switches on a metal plate attached to the arm, spotlights, carpeting, and a couple of rings set into the centre of the floor. There were no pieces of BDMS gear left, though various marks showed where the cross had been attached to the wall and the pillory to the floor though if you didn`t know the story they could have been for any old pieces of machinery.
We sat on the veranda, with our buns, and Ann said she loved the place, I too loved the peace and the isolation but pointed out the distance we would need to commute daily if I stayed at the job I had. It was not a problem for Ann as when she had recently had promotion; her work was in Hastings anyway so was over 20 miles nearer to the homestead, but we sadly had to dismis the idea as sadly unworkable at that moment.
The buns eaten we unloaded the bags with the toys, Ann had said she wanted to be whipped in the dungeon, but I suggested that we could do that anytime, but we might not get another shot at the anthill, Ann shuddered, bit her lip then slowly nodded.
Off she went into the first bedroom. She then started to take off her clothes, while I went to check the coast was clear old habits dying hard. There was no one for miles just a few sheep and a heron that quickly ignored me, I returned just as she emerged from the bedroom, her dress for this, a pale blue silky affair slithered over her naked body a loose silky fit with a hemline just above her knees, each wrist wore a leather wristlet and she carried a short cord. To me she looked a real picture, her face carried a look of expectant worry and she asked how long she had to endure? We decided on ½ an hour unless she asked for more or screamed for less.
I asked if she was ready then led her to the post I thought her loose dress hid her breasts and said I wanted to watch the little black insects running across her cool white skin. She shuddered as I slid the thin material up and over her head and off so that her skin not her dress was in direct contact with the sandy heap. She placed her hands behind her and round the pole, I attached the cord to each wristlet with a quick release knot and slowly she slid herself down onto the anthill putting her long legs out in front of her and her seat directly on the sandy pile. I warned her not to move and upset the little devils, as they tended to sting when upset; her eyes opened just a little wider as she took in that little detail and she referred to me with a rude word. Within seconds her black aggressors, (I later found they were a colony of large wood ants,) were creeping onto her naked body, seeking any damp fold in her skin, in just a few short minutes her lap was black with the little b**sts, they were to be seen crawling up across her belly. Soon the black hoard was exploring the sweaty area under her breasts, one sturdier fellow being first to crawl over her nipple causing her to groan. I gently slid her legs apart giving more access to her groin, she groaned as some of the little fellows found her clitoris. Her efforts to stay still now were to no avail and she began to wriggle gently, to her discomfort, the strongest ant was by now crawling up her throat, his friends wandering at will over her ample breasts, her lower areas a black carpet of moving bodies under the feet of these. No sane human could have stayed still, and Ann began to move about which irritated the ants as some were inevitably crushed; the rest began to sting, each little pin prick, adding to her discomfort. Mindful that we had no real facilities to shower I tried to keep the ants from her head.
Her body was beginning to become an unbearable mass of red pain-filled bites. Her movements became more agitated and the ants more aggressive, unable to take more she said our safe word, so I released her hands helping her up and used the soft brush I keep in the car to sweep out the foot-wells, to sweep the little b**sts back onto the heap, naturally I began at the top. By the time I got down to her mid-rift, she was shaking her tail like a demented dancer, stamping her feet like an Italian in a g**** vat and attempting to remove as many of the little pests as she could. Her backside cleft was still running with the things and her fanny lips swollen as they were from the stings were still well populated. The brush did as well as I could manage, but the odd ant still remained when I led her to the veranda, dropping the cool silky dress down over the now violated body.
I led her through to the dungeon were we carefully removed the dress throwing a rope over the central beam I soon had her secured then swept her body down again paying of course special attention to her still infested clefts, over some old newspaper which was soon back outside returning the more adventurous to the hill.
Her eyes told me she needed to climax so whip in hand I gave her a few gentle strokes. The tenderised skin still stinging from the ants, took little whipping to get a reaction, by the first dozen strokes her climax was obviously near, deep breaths, nipples like hat pegs, flushed face, each stroke took her nearer, then the dam broke on a massive climax, her body slumped in the cuffs, as her spend ran down her legs and her bladder released itself, with a deep gasp she lost consciousness. I lowered her to the ground where she soon recovered smiling at me and telling me it was the most intense climax she had ever experienced.
She slowly dressed and said that the vibes here were something special we both felt it and felt it was a tragic shame that we were not in a position to move. We reluctantly left, dropping the keys at the agents as we went, saying that we would be in touch soon we had much to think over and Ann eager for a cooling bath. At tea we sat and as had become our custom discussed the day.
Ann`s verdict was that the ants crawling on her intimate areas was out of this world but the above the nipple areas were a step too far, she had just washed one or two from her hair and the feeling of them in her ears and on her face, was she said gross. I pointed out that Eve in the story had had tubes front and back and that caused a Real shudder. Her skin was she said still tender, she couldn`t imagine the feeling of internal ant feet trampling about! The story she said had mentioned worms and at least they don’t sting!
We arose late on the Sunday, then went for a swim the salt seawater soothing our skins, the sun warming our bodies both of us lost in our own thoughts.
Our dreams of moving to the lonely homestead that we had both fallen in love with, though we sadly decided was just too far from my work, we reluctantly decided that there was no way for it to happen