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3. Sussex Wife [B] free porn video
3. Sussex Wife
Friday dawned grey, not wet but showers looked immanent, the taxi bearing Fred and Holly whisked them though the streets of the old town, up the hill and into the small shopping centre where they paused to get tea, milk and sugar, and some sausage rolls for dinner, they soon found themselves in Fairlight, “the supposed posh end of the world” Fred said rather tongue in cheek.” Fur coat and no knickers more like!” He paid the cab asking him to return at four that afternoon.
He led the way up the, to him familiar, garden path to a sizeable bungalow, all dark surrounded double glazing and white walls. His key opened the front door and before her was a lovely tidy home, that made her flat over a shop look tatty in comparison. He suggested she made tea as the walk to the door had worn him out.
While they awaited the kettle he told her she was free to explore, bedrooms and bathroom that way he said, living room and pool that way.
Did he say pool, she went to look, it was hardly an Olympic size but it was a plunge pool that was in the sunroom obviously tacked on at the back of the bungalow some time ago.
He laughed at her c***dlike smile when she saw it, he pointed to a stairwell tucked in the corner of the sunroom, down there is the dungeon; he chuckled and threw her the keys. She was down the steps in a flash, all thought of tea gone from her mind.
The little door opened silently into a room of cave like proportions, the place was gloomy, to her right a saint Andrews cross, in front a bench complete with a windlass to the left so it could be used as a rack, so she looked for a switch which she eventually found above the door, light bathed the whole place from spotlights placed above each item, a pole for riding the pony, the rack bench, a lift powered as well she noted, and tucked in the far corner a brazier of some kind complete with a chimney very like a chimera. whip`s short and thick lined the walls along with manacles, canes, and straps of varying lengths and widths. She returned to Fred carefully switching off the lights and closing the door.
He asked if she had seen enough, and could they have tea now, so she returned to the pretty kitchen and put the kettle back on looking out of the rear window at the sea, stretching away grey and murky dreaming that all this was hers, and they would never have to work again. The boiling kettle brought her back to the present.
Over tea he explained that his wife had come from wealthy stock, and though they had never been close her father had left her a fortune, they had had the place built for them and after her death he had taken a job not for the money but for the company and something to pass the empty hours. There was another cellar on the other side of the pool room, which held his little workshop he told her, and he was a fair hand with wood so that`s what he had done as a worker carpentry. He had built a lot of the furniture, and all the wooden items in the Dungeon.
The tea over, she asked to see his photos of his wife, he led her to the smaller of the bedrooms, and pointed to some albums up on the higher shelves, she reached them down, and together they sat on the bed they went through them. The first had family type pictures, they had had no c***dren so there was her mother, father and uncles, all now long past.
Mary as a youngster through to her wedding, Fred a handsome young blade with his shapely bride, Them both on the beach, both in swim wear, and later her on the beach with his brand clear for all to see on her right rump; FS for Fred Shingles about 1½” high a deep scar type wound.
He smiled at her, “would you like to see the branding pictures” he asked gently, she said she would and he reached into his bureaux, and fetched out a small and she noticed well thumbed album, he handed her the thing and said work from the back for some reason they had been put in, in reverse order.
She slowly flipped through the pages.
First was some of Fred laying on the rack his arms above his head naked; Unable to move, his large Penis soft on his leg, the next picture of Mary removing the hair from him with an open razor, clearly the photographs taken by someone who knew what they were about, she looked up questioningly at Fred who said it was her uncle who took the pictures and his fee was to have a night with Mary, before she was branded.
The next series of pictures were of Fred his member swollen, red and angry, in varying stages of being tattooed; the final one of the finished product, and again after some days for the swelling to have past one of Fred hung on the cross for all to see.
He sat on the bed, as she turned the page, Mary, with presumably her uncle, on their bed in the doggy position, then again in the missionary and finally without anyone else her legs wide open before the world. The next few were the ones that mattered most to Holly, Mary being led into the dungeon, the brazier fire glowing cheerfully, Mary her face white, laid on the rack her arms in traction, her ankles secure her eyes on the iron heating in the fire. Fear written all over her face. The moment of pain as the ‘f’ was placed on her tender skin, smoke rising, you could almost hear the scream so realistic was the shot. The next showed her slumped on the rack tears wetting her cheeks, begging for “no more” Fred whispered, that she had spent the last three days giving me hideous pain with her needles, so I made her wait just a moment or two, then we did it again, the ‘S’ next to my ‘f’ forever on her body.
There were two further shots of the body bent up against the ropes driven by the intense pain; her face contorted a scream on her lips, and of her wrists bleeding on the skin from the fierce ropes that had cut her in her attempts to get away.
The final shots were of her in the plunge pool, swimming, smiling, naked the water cooling the melted skin, and of the uncle under her on her bed the angry letters all too clear on her body as they strove towards a climax. It was over;
Holly was well in need of sex at this point and the pictures lurid as they were had been the last straw, she wanted the blue cock, and she wanted it now. They tore clothes from one another, he began to cough, she waited impatient, he nodded she was on him like a tigress, their passion wild tearing, urgent, they needed one another, it was to be a near thing she climaxing as his seed filled her very being. They lay together; in that sublime ‘after it`s over’ situation we all enjoy, the urgency gone now he coughing a little.
They slept a while, had their sausage rolls naked still sitting at the poolside, drank tea, and just enjoyed one another time passed, no paperwork had been done, and they didn’t care they made slow gentle love, no urgency no rush just a man and a woman enjoying time conjoined, filling her with his sweet nectar, no thoughts of illness of time dribbling its way inexorably to infinity, just sex, gentle pure sex.
He noticed the time they dressed hurriedly, and were at the gate clutching a bag of album`s just as the taxi drew up, they were soon up in the flat, the dog overjoyed to see them; she back in her own environment, it had been a dream, she was cooking Ken`s tea as usual, Fred resting on his bed the racking cough telling him he had overdone it he passed on the tea preferring an hour`s shut-eye.
Ken arrived as usual spot on time, over tea she told him of the house, the pool, the dungeon, He having just fetched the mail from the porch when he had visited. The pictures, which he looked through avidly scanning each shot intently included other shots, Mary in shackles, Mary in poses various her back red her bum cut from the cane, hanging from the hoist with whip marks , each with a smile, each with that look that told of her enjoyment of the pain that was being inflicted. Finally he came to the branding.
She knew then what her answer would be when asked the question she had been dreading. Fred appeared, she poured tea and they sat at the fireside in companionable silence. Ken looked up and she knew the hour had come.
“Well?” He asked, will do me the honour wearing my mark.
She looked at him and with tears in her eyes she slowly said “yes she would but only if she could keep Tim, for Fred”. He nodded as she continued in just a whisper and if you brand me as Mary had been. He sat bolt upright, he had intended to have her tattooed, less pain less trauma and here she was insisting on being branded like an a****l. Surprisingly He began to protest, but she put her finger on his lip, saying “it must be done tomorrow, and in Fred`s dungeon while we can, I know you have a brand it is the one you used for your garden tools, the KF that she had seen smoking on the wooden shafts of the tools last summer.
She turned to Fred and asked if he had his old brand still, he said he had and she said that he would need it tomorrow, and could they all stay over for the night at the bungalow. Seeing that there was no talking to her, Ken fetched the brand, asking where she wished to be marked. In answer she turned to Fred and said that she wanted to be marked just as Mary had the two brands to read KFS, Kenneth, Franklin, Shingles.
Tears coursed down Fred`s face, he knew now that Tim would live out his life in luxury and his own name would live on regardless of his impending death, it was all too much , he silently retired to his bed.
Ken still thumbing through the album, asked of the afternoon and she explained the whole day, the joy of pretending the bungalow was her home, the sudden passion, the slow lovemaking, and Fred as her partner, the knowledge that this was something she had to do, it was as if the whole thing was her destiny, to become Mary if only for the day. They went away to their bed; tomorrow was to be a big day.
He spent a restless night, could he do this to his wife`s body, was she sure would he refuse this her wish, it all churned through his mind.
She however slept the sleep of the dead, she knew it was right, it was what Mary would have wanted, Fred would have wanted, Ken had suggested and most of all she wanted; both his mark and the dog as a lover seven days a week.
It was a bright dawn, Ken watched it break over the distant castle as it had for hundreds of years, and he had set his mind to doing what she asked, he had sanded the brand clean wrapping it in foil.
Fred crept into the living room; he too had had a rough night, thinking imagining and dozing in alternate short patches.
Tim appeared sensing the fear and apprehension in the air.
He slunk away under the table.
Finally Holly stretching and wiping sleep from her eyes, her face unworried, her pyjamas ruffled came to the table.
She sat refusing any proper breakfast saying her stomach had a problem with butterflies, though she was not showing it she was scared out of her mind. She said she had packed a few things she thought they would need, and they needed to pick up some charcoal on the way if the iron was to be hot enough.
Her calmness was unnerving, so to settle a few butterflies toast was made, before the taxi arrived with Tim on his lead and Fred coughing nervously, they set off, the day had started.
It was a strange little group who unlocked the door of the bungalow, the dog immediately wandered off into the garden happy to be home, Ken wandered round exploring, Fred went in search of the brand, and Holly did a lot of nervose urinating.
The brand found and cleaned, the fire was lit, each avoiding one another`s eyes as they did the various jobs.
The inevitable tea was brewed, they sat in silence till the tea was gone and Holly rose to her feet, she then said that she needed a shave and shower before the act, she led them to the bathroom and allowed them to disrobe her, she stood before them offering them the razors and soap, and raised her arms to the shower rail standing for them to remove all hair from shoulders to feet. It took some time, and was quite erotic in its own way, she produced from the wash bag a felt tip pen, which she gave to Fred, and requested he marked a square big enough for the brands and on her right rump. The butterflies returned, to each of them, as he did as asked, then at her request, fitted cuffs on each wrist and ankle.
She asked them to undress so she could watch each of their reactions during the act.
They led her to the poolside, then down the steps to the hot little room.
The brands lay on the rack she lifted them and plunged them deep in the fire turned and gracefully lay face down on the rack. The video camera set up by Ken was on its stand and running, as they secured both her arms and legs. Fred tightened the rack till she asked him to stop. Not tight as a drum this time she wished to move just a little but she told them they were to tighten it between brands. You could have heard a pin drop.
Fred offered her a gag but she said she would much rather howl if that was all-right with them.
Ken checked the brand, sparks rose as the coals released the red hot metal. He approached the now quaking woman, lined the iron with the square then pressed it home before he could chicken out her scream was loud piercing and beyond the normal human level. Fred pushed Ken away, he having been transfixed by the scream, which had now turned to a long loud sob.
Fred tightened the rack fetching the woman to a flat position after the spasm position she had moved to. Her eyes fixed now on the fire, imagining the pain to come, knowing now the level it would be at, she watched fascinated as the second brand the S passed from her line of sight, she felt the heat of the thing as it hovered as it was aligned with the other brand then the pain shear unmitigated pain like a white light running from her backside through her body, the smell, the smoke , the brand again passing as it went back to the fire to clean it of clinging flesh, the ropes being released, the pain still not losing its heat, willing hands helping her stand her legs like jelly, the cuffs being removed, pain spray on her backside, doing not a lot for some time, Fred shouting that “Mary went straight into the pool “ anything to remove this awful pain, up the steps legs wobbling Ken holding her up cool water covering her whole body.
Fred seeing to the fire and the brands, the camera now in his hands Ken helped her from the water the camera capturing the raw wounds clearly proclaiming she was his, in fact she was now both the woman of both of them.
They both now wanted to have her, Ken first lay on the bed and she straddled him, he was so high in two strokes he was filling her, and she had come again, she moved over to Fred who lay next to Ken she again was filled, by just a few strokes he lasting longer she again coming to a huge climax then falling face first onto the bed totally spent.
An hour passed, no one moved, they just lay, emotionally and physically as exhausted as people could be. They remained at the bungalow for all of that day and the night as well, Ken caring for his wife`s burns, and Fred cooking light meals for them all from freezer and tin.
Holly lay face down so as not to lay on her throbbing marks, which Ken regularly sprayed with antiseptic spray and a numbing agent, bought that very morning from boots chemists .
Fred sorted a few of his papers then they called a taxi, dressed her in her bra and dress without knickers, locked up and were collected by the taxi mid morning, she kneeling on the taxi floor the whole way home to the curiosity of the driver, they did not enlighten him save to say that she had had an accident and found sitting painful. At home they spent the rest of Sunday tending their heroine`s wounds.
Ken went off to work on the Monday and Fred went off to by taxi Eastbourne and his solicitor, he did not explain why and he was later home and soon asleep in his room.
Holly found it better to not wear clothes on the lower half of her body; she wore a blouse and bra to save any nosy neighbours blushes should they see her through the windows of the flats opposite. While she stood, Tim, using his tongue to good effect, was her constant companion, believing the naked lower half to be for his benefit.
It took a fortnight for the wounds to heal well enough for her to go out. Meanwhile both Ken and Fred went over at the weekend and cleared any paperwork, fetching it home for her if appropriate Strangely Ken was not allowed to sort the workshop or the sale of the furnishing`s Fred flatly refusing all his entreaties in that direction.
As soon as Holly could ride in a taxi, sitting down comfortably, they all went to the bungalow again. The cough had worsened markedly.
Fred said she had promised to let him watch her with the dog, and that`s what he wanted, would she do so today for him. She agreed covering the wounds with a large plaster to save unnecessary scratches and infection she allowed Fred to remove her knickers, folded her dress up over her back and she knelt on all fours, Tim took no telling, up he went his purple cock stabbing at her sex , he was soon in and striving to push his prick as deep as it would reach, the knot began to swell she was in pain, not the fierce pain of the brand, but the deep swelling pain as if giving birth to a big ball
His jet, scalding in her now swollen gut`s, as he pumped yet more of his hot jism into her. Ken held his collar to stop him scrabbling to turn and causing the brands to damage.
They were stuck together, her arms shook with the strain of supporting both her upper torso and his whole body when she became aware of Fred at her head, he had chosen this moment of all moments to explain that he had seen his solicitor and the house was now theirs, Ken and Holly, his friends, there were two provisos, they must keep the dog till it passed on and that they would change their surname by deed pole, from now on they were to be known as Franklin- Shingles.
As if on cue the dog released her, Fred taking the dogs place in a stunned Holly revelling in the hot wetness and laughing at the amazed looks of his two friends as he hammered away the racking cough adding to the sensation he was creating.
Fred lived a further month, they had had sex up until the last week when he became just too ill.
They buried him with Mary the only mourners being Holly, Ken and the old dog, a very rich old dog that had had a fortune left him to look after his keepers.
Friday dawned grey, not wet but showers looked immanent, the taxi bearing Fred and Holly whisked them though the streets of the old town, up the hill and into the small shopping centre where they paused to get tea, milk and sugar, and some sausage rolls for dinner, they soon found themselves in Fairlight, “the supposed posh end of the world” Fred said rather tongue in cheek.” Fur coat and no knickers more like!” He paid the cab asking him to return at four that afternoon.
He led the way up the, to him familiar, garden path to a sizeable bungalow, all dark surrounded double glazing and white walls. His key opened the front door and before her was a lovely tidy home, that made her flat over a shop look tatty in comparison. He suggested she made tea as the walk to the door had worn him out.
While they awaited the kettle he told her she was free to explore, bedrooms and bathroom that way he said, living room and pool that way.
Did he say pool, she went to look, it was hardly an Olympic size but it was a plunge pool that was in the sunroom obviously tacked on at the back of the bungalow some time ago.
He laughed at her c***dlike smile when she saw it, he pointed to a stairwell tucked in the corner of the sunroom, down there is the dungeon; he chuckled and threw her the keys. She was down the steps in a flash, all thought of tea gone from her mind.
The little door opened silently into a room of cave like proportions, the place was gloomy, to her right a saint Andrews cross, in front a bench complete with a windlass to the left so it could be used as a rack, so she looked for a switch which she eventually found above the door, light bathed the whole place from spotlights placed above each item, a pole for riding the pony, the rack bench, a lift powered as well she noted, and tucked in the far corner a brazier of some kind complete with a chimney very like a chimera. whip`s short and thick lined the walls along with manacles, canes, and straps of varying lengths and widths. She returned to Fred carefully switching off the lights and closing the door.
He asked if she had seen enough, and could they have tea now, so she returned to the pretty kitchen and put the kettle back on looking out of the rear window at the sea, stretching away grey and murky dreaming that all this was hers, and they would never have to work again. The boiling kettle brought her back to the present.
Over tea he explained that his wife had come from wealthy stock, and though they had never been close her father had left her a fortune, they had had the place built for them and after her death he had taken a job not for the money but for the company and something to pass the empty hours. There was another cellar on the other side of the pool room, which held his little workshop he told her, and he was a fair hand with wood so that`s what he had done as a worker carpentry. He had built a lot of the furniture, and all the wooden items in the Dungeon.
The tea over, she asked to see his photos of his wife, he led her to the smaller of the bedrooms, and pointed to some albums up on the higher shelves, she reached them down, and together they sat on the bed they went through them. The first had family type pictures, they had had no c***dren so there was her mother, father and uncles, all now long past.
Mary as a youngster through to her wedding, Fred a handsome young blade with his shapely bride, Them both on the beach, both in swim wear, and later her on the beach with his brand clear for all to see on her right rump; FS for Fred Shingles about 1½” high a deep scar type wound.
He smiled at her, “would you like to see the branding pictures” he asked gently, she said she would and he reached into his bureaux, and fetched out a small and she noticed well thumbed album, he handed her the thing and said work from the back for some reason they had been put in, in reverse order.
She slowly flipped through the pages.
First was some of Fred laying on the rack his arms above his head naked; Unable to move, his large Penis soft on his leg, the next picture of Mary removing the hair from him with an open razor, clearly the photographs taken by someone who knew what they were about, she looked up questioningly at Fred who said it was her uncle who took the pictures and his fee was to have a night with Mary, before she was branded.
The next series of pictures were of Fred his member swollen, red and angry, in varying stages of being tattooed; the final one of the finished product, and again after some days for the swelling to have past one of Fred hung on the cross for all to see.
He sat on the bed, as she turned the page, Mary, with presumably her uncle, on their bed in the doggy position, then again in the missionary and finally without anyone else her legs wide open before the world. The next few were the ones that mattered most to Holly, Mary being led into the dungeon, the brazier fire glowing cheerfully, Mary her face white, laid on the rack her arms in traction, her ankles secure her eyes on the iron heating in the fire. Fear written all over her face. The moment of pain as the ‘f’ was placed on her tender skin, smoke rising, you could almost hear the scream so realistic was the shot. The next showed her slumped on the rack tears wetting her cheeks, begging for “no more” Fred whispered, that she had spent the last three days giving me hideous pain with her needles, so I made her wait just a moment or two, then we did it again, the ‘S’ next to my ‘f’ forever on her body.
There were two further shots of the body bent up against the ropes driven by the intense pain; her face contorted a scream on her lips, and of her wrists bleeding on the skin from the fierce ropes that had cut her in her attempts to get away.
The final shots were of her in the plunge pool, swimming, smiling, naked the water cooling the melted skin, and of the uncle under her on her bed the angry letters all too clear on her body as they strove towards a climax. It was over;
Holly was well in need of sex at this point and the pictures lurid as they were had been the last straw, she wanted the blue cock, and she wanted it now. They tore clothes from one another, he began to cough, she waited impatient, he nodded she was on him like a tigress, their passion wild tearing, urgent, they needed one another, it was to be a near thing she climaxing as his seed filled her very being. They lay together; in that sublime ‘after it`s over’ situation we all enjoy, the urgency gone now he coughing a little.
They slept a while, had their sausage rolls naked still sitting at the poolside, drank tea, and just enjoyed one another time passed, no paperwork had been done, and they didn’t care they made slow gentle love, no urgency no rush just a man and a woman enjoying time conjoined, filling her with his sweet nectar, no thoughts of illness of time dribbling its way inexorably to infinity, just sex, gentle pure sex.
He noticed the time they dressed hurriedly, and were at the gate clutching a bag of album`s just as the taxi drew up, they were soon up in the flat, the dog overjoyed to see them; she back in her own environment, it had been a dream, she was cooking Ken`s tea as usual, Fred resting on his bed the racking cough telling him he had overdone it he passed on the tea preferring an hour`s shut-eye.
Ken arrived as usual spot on time, over tea she told him of the house, the pool, the dungeon, He having just fetched the mail from the porch when he had visited. The pictures, which he looked through avidly scanning each shot intently included other shots, Mary in shackles, Mary in poses various her back red her bum cut from the cane, hanging from the hoist with whip marks , each with a smile, each with that look that told of her enjoyment of the pain that was being inflicted. Finally he came to the branding.
She knew then what her answer would be when asked the question she had been dreading. Fred appeared, she poured tea and they sat at the fireside in companionable silence. Ken looked up and she knew the hour had come.
“Well?” He asked, will do me the honour wearing my mark.
She looked at him and with tears in her eyes she slowly said “yes she would but only if she could keep Tim, for Fred”. He nodded as she continued in just a whisper and if you brand me as Mary had been. He sat bolt upright, he had intended to have her tattooed, less pain less trauma and here she was insisting on being branded like an a****l. Surprisingly He began to protest, but she put her finger on his lip, saying “it must be done tomorrow, and in Fred`s dungeon while we can, I know you have a brand it is the one you used for your garden tools, the KF that she had seen smoking on the wooden shafts of the tools last summer.
She turned to Fred and asked if he had his old brand still, he said he had and she said that he would need it tomorrow, and could they all stay over for the night at the bungalow. Seeing that there was no talking to her, Ken fetched the brand, asking where she wished to be marked. In answer she turned to Fred and said that she wanted to be marked just as Mary had the two brands to read KFS, Kenneth, Franklin, Shingles.
Tears coursed down Fred`s face, he knew now that Tim would live out his life in luxury and his own name would live on regardless of his impending death, it was all too much , he silently retired to his bed.
Ken still thumbing through the album, asked of the afternoon and she explained the whole day, the joy of pretending the bungalow was her home, the sudden passion, the slow lovemaking, and Fred as her partner, the knowledge that this was something she had to do, it was as if the whole thing was her destiny, to become Mary if only for the day. They went away to their bed; tomorrow was to be a big day.
He spent a restless night, could he do this to his wife`s body, was she sure would he refuse this her wish, it all churned through his mind.
She however slept the sleep of the dead, she knew it was right, it was what Mary would have wanted, Fred would have wanted, Ken had suggested and most of all she wanted; both his mark and the dog as a lover seven days a week.
It was a bright dawn, Ken watched it break over the distant castle as it had for hundreds of years, and he had set his mind to doing what she asked, he had sanded the brand clean wrapping it in foil.
Fred crept into the living room; he too had had a rough night, thinking imagining and dozing in alternate short patches.
Tim appeared sensing the fear and apprehension in the air.
He slunk away under the table.
Finally Holly stretching and wiping sleep from her eyes, her face unworried, her pyjamas ruffled came to the table.
She sat refusing any proper breakfast saying her stomach had a problem with butterflies, though she was not showing it she was scared out of her mind. She said she had packed a few things she thought they would need, and they needed to pick up some charcoal on the way if the iron was to be hot enough.
Her calmness was unnerving, so to settle a few butterflies toast was made, before the taxi arrived with Tim on his lead and Fred coughing nervously, they set off, the day had started.
It was a strange little group who unlocked the door of the bungalow, the dog immediately wandered off into the garden happy to be home, Ken wandered round exploring, Fred went in search of the brand, and Holly did a lot of nervose urinating.
The brand found and cleaned, the fire was lit, each avoiding one another`s eyes as they did the various jobs.
The inevitable tea was brewed, they sat in silence till the tea was gone and Holly rose to her feet, she then said that she needed a shave and shower before the act, she led them to the bathroom and allowed them to disrobe her, she stood before them offering them the razors and soap, and raised her arms to the shower rail standing for them to remove all hair from shoulders to feet. It took some time, and was quite erotic in its own way, she produced from the wash bag a felt tip pen, which she gave to Fred, and requested he marked a square big enough for the brands and on her right rump. The butterflies returned, to each of them, as he did as asked, then at her request, fitted cuffs on each wrist and ankle.
She asked them to undress so she could watch each of their reactions during the act.
They led her to the poolside, then down the steps to the hot little room.
The brands lay on the rack she lifted them and plunged them deep in the fire turned and gracefully lay face down on the rack. The video camera set up by Ken was on its stand and running, as they secured both her arms and legs. Fred tightened the rack till she asked him to stop. Not tight as a drum this time she wished to move just a little but she told them they were to tighten it between brands. You could have heard a pin drop.
Fred offered her a gag but she said she would much rather howl if that was all-right with them.
Ken checked the brand, sparks rose as the coals released the red hot metal. He approached the now quaking woman, lined the iron with the square then pressed it home before he could chicken out her scream was loud piercing and beyond the normal human level. Fred pushed Ken away, he having been transfixed by the scream, which had now turned to a long loud sob.
Fred tightened the rack fetching the woman to a flat position after the spasm position she had moved to. Her eyes fixed now on the fire, imagining the pain to come, knowing now the level it would be at, she watched fascinated as the second brand the S passed from her line of sight, she felt the heat of the thing as it hovered as it was aligned with the other brand then the pain shear unmitigated pain like a white light running from her backside through her body, the smell, the smoke , the brand again passing as it went back to the fire to clean it of clinging flesh, the ropes being released, the pain still not losing its heat, willing hands helping her stand her legs like jelly, the cuffs being removed, pain spray on her backside, doing not a lot for some time, Fred shouting that “Mary went straight into the pool “ anything to remove this awful pain, up the steps legs wobbling Ken holding her up cool water covering her whole body.
Fred seeing to the fire and the brands, the camera now in his hands Ken helped her from the water the camera capturing the raw wounds clearly proclaiming she was his, in fact she was now both the woman of both of them.
They both now wanted to have her, Ken first lay on the bed and she straddled him, he was so high in two strokes he was filling her, and she had come again, she moved over to Fred who lay next to Ken she again was filled, by just a few strokes he lasting longer she again coming to a huge climax then falling face first onto the bed totally spent.
An hour passed, no one moved, they just lay, emotionally and physically as exhausted as people could be. They remained at the bungalow for all of that day and the night as well, Ken caring for his wife`s burns, and Fred cooking light meals for them all from freezer and tin.
Holly lay face down so as not to lay on her throbbing marks, which Ken regularly sprayed with antiseptic spray and a numbing agent, bought that very morning from boots chemists .
Fred sorted a few of his papers then they called a taxi, dressed her in her bra and dress without knickers, locked up and were collected by the taxi mid morning, she kneeling on the taxi floor the whole way home to the curiosity of the driver, they did not enlighten him save to say that she had had an accident and found sitting painful. At home they spent the rest of Sunday tending their heroine`s wounds.
Ken went off to work on the Monday and Fred went off to by taxi Eastbourne and his solicitor, he did not explain why and he was later home and soon asleep in his room.
Holly found it better to not wear clothes on the lower half of her body; she wore a blouse and bra to save any nosy neighbours blushes should they see her through the windows of the flats opposite. While she stood, Tim, using his tongue to good effect, was her constant companion, believing the naked lower half to be for his benefit.
It took a fortnight for the wounds to heal well enough for her to go out. Meanwhile both Ken and Fred went over at the weekend and cleared any paperwork, fetching it home for her if appropriate Strangely Ken was not allowed to sort the workshop or the sale of the furnishing`s Fred flatly refusing all his entreaties in that direction.
As soon as Holly could ride in a taxi, sitting down comfortably, they all went to the bungalow again. The cough had worsened markedly.
Fred said she had promised to let him watch her with the dog, and that`s what he wanted, would she do so today for him. She agreed covering the wounds with a large plaster to save unnecessary scratches and infection she allowed Fred to remove her knickers, folded her dress up over her back and she knelt on all fours, Tim took no telling, up he went his purple cock stabbing at her sex , he was soon in and striving to push his prick as deep as it would reach, the knot began to swell she was in pain, not the fierce pain of the brand, but the deep swelling pain as if giving birth to a big ball
His jet, scalding in her now swollen gut`s, as he pumped yet more of his hot jism into her. Ken held his collar to stop him scrabbling to turn and causing the brands to damage.
They were stuck together, her arms shook with the strain of supporting both her upper torso and his whole body when she became aware of Fred at her head, he had chosen this moment of all moments to explain that he had seen his solicitor and the house was now theirs, Ken and Holly, his friends, there were two provisos, they must keep the dog till it passed on and that they would change their surname by deed pole, from now on they were to be known as Franklin- Shingles.
As if on cue the dog released her, Fred taking the dogs place in a stunned Holly revelling in the hot wetness and laughing at the amazed looks of his two friends as he hammered away the racking cough adding to the sensation he was creating.
Fred lived a further month, they had had sex up until the last week when he became just too ill.
They buried him with Mary the only mourners being Holly, Ken and the old dog, a very rich old dog that had had a fortune left him to look after his keepers.
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