Bondage Farm

A partially true story, with some fantasy thrown into the mix.

*

Being raised by a single parent had its compensations as well as its drawbacks. My mother came under the heading of 'single parent', having gotten pregnant at a ridiculously early age she was dumped by her then boyfriend and managed to have a huge fallout with her parents.

The compensation of being the child of a single parent was that I never had two parents telling me what to do, the drawback was that I never had two parents... you get the idea. I rarely saw my grandparents, I don't even remember my grandfather, and grandmother was just this strange old lady that we visited out on a farm maybe once a year and from whom I got a Christmas present every year and money in a card on my birthday.

Grandmother's farm was about fifty miles away from where we lived in a large industrial town, It may as well have been on the other side of the planet as far as I was concerned growing up. Mother went to work, I went to school, I don't remember how we managed that when I was very young, but by the time I was eight or nine I was 'a latch key kid', coming and going on my own. Not that my mother was a bad parent, we just had to get on with our lives as well as we could.

I was far from being an exception to the rule, being an inner city kid I was surrounded by other kids in the same situation. Single parent families were commonplace in our neighbourhood, mostly mother's with one kid but there were a few with two or even three, and one dad with two kids that I knew of. The one thing that did separate us from the majority of one parent families was Mum working, only a few did that I was aware of.

Mum, Lisa to her friends. Five feet one inch tall, kind of skinny in a busty way. Sort of dirty blonde hair, down to her shoulders when not up in a ponytail. Pretty, yes even I, her son had to admit that she was very pretty, and usually smiling. At least that's what I always saw. As I got older and my friends did the same I became the envy of quite a few of them, I had a MILF, at least that's what they said, it took Me a bit longer to realise they were right.

Me, I'm just under six feet tall, average build, average looks, same dirty blonde hair.

I was almost finished college, still sitting my 'A' levels when I got home one evening to find mum sat on the sofa in our little town house holding a bunch of papers in her hands, for once she didn't have a big smile for me. It was obvious that something was wrong and when I asked her she replied that her mother had died the week previous, "I didn't even know she was ill."

What do you say in that situation? There wasn't much I could say, I commiserated with her as best I could and then she dropped the big bombshell "We now own a farm!"

"What? We own a farm?"

"Yes, the crazy thing is that I've owned it for years and didn't even know about it, not that it's a real farm anymore, the land is mostly rented out to others now. My father started doing that before I was born, by the time I had you he wasn't really farming at all, just keeping a few poultry and a couple of pigs and sheep. They've been gone for years, my mother just kept on with a couple of dozen chickens and the odd goose now and again for Christmas. Seems she had plenty of money though, a lot more than I realised."

That evening we indulged in a rare treat in our house, a good steak and a bottle of wine. Mum worked as some sort of admin assistant, her salary kept us both going, just. I'd had my eighteenth birthday just a couple of weeks ago and mum had pulled out all the stops to send me out that night with money in my pocket to celebrate with my friends. I knew how hard she worked and struggled and I was more than grateful, she just shrugged it off as something any mother would do.

Steak and wine, and conversation. We talked a lot that evening about our future. Should we keep, should we sell? By the end of the evening we hadn't decided, we didn't know enough about it to come to any informed conclusions, but I was certainly glad to get out of that room.

When there was only the two of us in the house mum didn't go to great lengths to cover up, she never had. The house was small, tiny really, and we shared the bathroom, and frequently the bathwater, though not at the same time. Moving around the home wrapped in a towel was bound to attract the odd accident and it had. That night though I had been sat opposite my lovely little mum with an ever increasing view of her breasts as we talked and she got a bit tipsy. I don't know whether she realised the show she was giving me, but my cock certainly did, I had a serious hard-on! Mum rarely drank, and when she did it didn't take much to send her silly, she'd only had a glass and a couple of sips of her second one so I knew she wasn't drunk, but she was 'forgetful', in that she forgot how loose her blouse was and the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Back in my tiny bedroom I had to relieve the pressure, then take the handful of tissues and flush them down the loo. On the way back to my room as I passed mum's door I heard soft noises coming from her, I'd guessed some time ago that she was jilling off, I'd even jacked off once or twice outside her door listening to her.

The next couple of weeks passed very slowly for me, exams seemed to slow down the passage of time. I couldn't attend the funeral due to an exam but mother did and she had to have several meetings with lawyers to sort out property and money. My exams finally over we were able to sit and agree on our next move. Go see the farm.

Mum finished work early on Fridays so we went on that afternoon. The bus dropped us just outside the lane that led to the farm buildings and we set off walking. I knew the way having been there just before the previous Christmas but I'd never looked at the place the way I did now, It was much bigger than I thought it was, there were outbuildings scattered around and a large open fronted shed, with a tractor and a newish looking four by four, I wondered who they belonged to.

As we approached the main house a man came around the corner and greeted us, he was the hired help that my grandmother had kept on for as long as I could remember, doing the heavy work that she couldn't manage. He had the keys to the house and opened up for us. Bert as he asked us to call him started to show us around the house until mum reminded him that she had grown up here, he said he'd forgotten that, and left us to wander around on our own.

As we wandered from room to room mum explained what each room used to be. I'd never seen most of the house having only been for what seemed like obligatory visits, I didn't know it's history. The house was old, very very old. Once part of a now long gone Priory it had been a guest house, altered and reduced it was nevertheless very large, our little two bedroomed house could fit comfortably in the kitchen I think. The place hadn't really been touched since my grandmother had died so there was stuff all over the place, like an Aladdin's cave. The whole of the downstairs was so cluttered it was unbelievable, the two upper floors were even worse with what had apparently once been servants quarters on the top floor being piled high with old furniture.

"My mother never threw anything away, the same as my dad and his dad before him, the house has been in the family for a long time."

It showed, the house would take forever to clear out. "What are you going to do with all this stuff?"

"Me, you mean we!"

"No, it's your stuff mum."

"Actually I've been meaning to talk to you about that, yes, the farm and lands are mine and have been for almost ten years; the lawyers told me it had been made over to my name a couple of years after My dad died. I didn't even know about it. As for money, my mother left everything to the two of us jointly, except for a large lump of money which is in a trust fund for you, you'll be getting a monthly allowance, administered by me until you are twenty-one, then it's yours outright."

When she told me the figures I was stunned, my worries about how I was going to fund myself through university had just been blown away!

"What about the income from the land that's rented out, will that be enough for you to live on, can you give up your job?"

"Yes and yes, 'though I'm toying with the idea of doing bed and breakfast."

I had to laugh, from being on the edge of poverty we were suddenly land owners and very comfortably off. There were tears in mum's eyes as she hugged me, her head came just to my chest but as I hugged her back I felt those gorgeous breasts against my body, when I kissed her on the top of her head she lifted her face to me and pulled me down and landed a huge kiss right on my lips. She let go of my head and put her head into my chest. "We're ok you and me, aren't we?"

It seemed a strange thing for her to say to me, but then I remembered that she had not had the close relationship with her parents that we enjoyed, so maybe she just wanted or needed a bit of reassurance.

"We are always good mum, always will be!"

I did something then that I'd never done before, I took a huge chance. I dropped my hands from her back down to her buns. With my hands gently gripping the cheeks of her derrière she looked up at me again and this time it was me that kissed her. She didn't pull away, nor did she break the kiss until we both needed to breathe. Wow!

"You shouldn't start something you can't finish."

I would probably have been less shocked if she'd slapped me! Her smile melted me and when she pulled my head back down for another much briefer kiss I instantly gave in, and felt a very embarrassing twinge in my trousers, I was getting aroused, very aroused.

"Mmm, someone is getting excited, but this is neither the time nor the place!"

had I heard her right? Had my mother just said that? Was she suggesting that there might be an appropriate time and place? She laughed at what I assumed was my dumbfounded expression and pulled me around the rest of the house.

Back down in the kitchen we approached a very solid looking door in a corner.

"This is the door to the cellar, it's the oldest part of the house, I've only been down there once or twice in my life, it's haunted, sometimes the monk even comes up into the main part of the house."

She said it so nonchalantly, "Haunted! Really?"

Mum explained that at the dissolution of the monasteries there were atrocities committed, here as well as elsewhere, local legend had it that the house and grounds were haunted by several monks killed by the kings greedy henchmen. The door was locked, so we left it for the time being.

We went outside and looked around the outbuildings, farm machinery, a couple of old cars and various items of junk. Bert explained that he'd been feeding the chickens and geese but wondered what we intended?

While he and mum talked I went over to the big open shed and looked at the landrover and tractor. The tractor was hooked up to a grass cutter, the landrover looked almost unused.

"We'll have to have lessons!"

I turned to see mum smiling at me. "It's ours, mother got it a couple of months ago, before she was taken ill. Bert's going to run us home in it and then come back. We'll have to register it and whatever but we both need to learn to drive!"

We'd never been able to afford a car so had never learned to drive, I couldn't wait. But that wasn't the most important thing on my mind. My gorgeous little mum had not objected to me fondling her ass, and she'd kissed me, seriously, she'd even commented on me having a hard on in what seemed to me to be a positive way. I got another erection just thinking about it. That's when I realised, I really did have a MILF, a mother I'd like to fuck.

**************************************

Just over a month later we moved in. We would have all summer to clear the place up before I went to university and we were both eager to get started. One of our first jobs that first day was to check out the cellar. We'd found the keys in a drawer in the living room but waited until now before going down there. Bert was with us, we were both convinced that he knew what was down there anyway, but he wasn't saying anything. He definitely gave himself away when having let mum open the door he reached in and turned on a light, he obviously knew where the switch was.

We walked down some very steep stone steps and looked in awe at what was before us. The cellar had an arched roof, going up to a point, it was filled with the usual junk, plus several rows of wine racks, and that was just the first room, there appeared to be at least two more rooms. The wine racks were full.

"Well I always knew mother liked a glass of wine..."

Mum gave a hiccup sort of laugh, she just looked around at Bert and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, she did that. She was in one of those posh wine clubs, used to get a couple of boxes every couple of weeks delivered." He hooked his thumb back over his shoulder , "there's a couple of boxes in the big shed out back that have come since..." He didn't finish.

We wandered through the first room and into the second and third. These were full of bottle racks as well, but there looked to be a lot of spirits as well as wine, whiskey, rum, and brandy, and a lot of the bottles looked like they'd been here a long long time.

"I think a lot of this was probably your granddads, he liked his single malts and some of it could be even older than he was."

We agreed to have a closer look at it later and left, not without first telling Bert to grab himself a bottle of whatever he fancied, which he did, obviously.

The removals firm men had finished putting all our belongings in the big shed and were ready to leave when we went up out of the cellar. With the house being already full of furniture we had decided to just store our stuff from our old home until we could get ourselves organised. In total the house had nine bedrooms and two bathrooms, a fact that we had already decided we would change, provided we could get permission from the authorities, parts of the house were so old we would need planning permission. The possibility of providing bed and breakfast to tourists was growing in my mind, the house was certainly big enough, it just needed bathrooms.

That evening after a day of getting more or less settled into our new home we both had a bath and then settled down with a bottle of wine. After we'd finished that first bottle we decided on opening a second. The first bottle had come out of one of the boxes from the shed, the second we decided would come from the cellar. That's when the fun started. Mum dared me to go get one from the third room, on my own. I dared her back to do the same. We went together.

I admit it, I was a bit scared, but mum was definitely very apprehensive as we went down there, she held my hand so tight it hurt. Being the sort of idiot that I am I dared us both to drink from a bottle of the whisky while we were still down there, and being already just a bit tipsy my crazy mum grabbed a bottle, twisted off the cap and took a huge gulp! The coughing, choking, and laughing that followed had me almost wetting myself until she thrust the bottle at me and demanded I take my turn. I had never tasted whisky before so the tables were truly turned on me when I took the bottle she held out and took a huge drink! This time it was mum doubled over in laughter and quite literally holding herself from wetting as I thought my head was exploding!

"Let's go ghost hunting, I dare you!"

What could she do? I'd dared her and she wasn't going to back down so cautiously we crept around the stone cold cellars. Nothing! We laughed and held each other's hand and ran out of the cellar and up to the top floor. We were both giggling like school kids, and I still had the bottle of whisky in my other hand as we stood in the topmost bedroom and I shouted for a ghost to appear.

Nothing happened, I held out the bottle and dared mum to have another drink, which she instantly did. Moving from that room to the next it was my turn to drink from the bottle. As I did so mum said how cold it was up here, being stupidly full of bravado I said it wasn't cold at all! Ok, so the alcohol had started to hit me, and when she then said I wouldn't be saying that if I didn't have a very thick dressing gown on I took it off.

It was cold but I made the crazy comment that it was only ghost cold and handing the bottle to her dared her to take another swig, and take her (rather thin) dressing gown off as well. She was as daft as I was and took off her gown, it was more like a thin kimono than a dressing gown so I doubt it made that much difference.

We stood there laughing at each other and getting colder by the second, until we had another swig each from the bottle and mum came and hugged me saying that it was up to me to keep her warm!

I hugged her back, rubbing my hands up and down her very thinly covered back. She kept her hands around me and her head laid into my chest as I stroked her back, from her shoulders down to the hollow above her butt. I got a bit daring, on several of the downwards strokes I went that bit farther down than I maybe should have, but she didn't object. I kept on doing it and gave her bottom the occasional squeeze and made my grip go into the crack of her ass. When she still didn't object I left my hand gripping her bottom with a couple of fingers well inside her crack. She finally commented.

"What would your mother say, you naughty boy?"

"Well, you tell me, you would know!"

"Mmm, she'd say don't start what you can't finish!"

"Oh, I can finish it all right!"

We'd crossed a line, if only in words and not deeds.

My mother it seemed was not interested in words, but she was interested in deeds. Looking me straight in the eyes she said...

"I dare you!"

They do say (whoever 'they' are) that you should never dare a fool, well it seems that where my mother is concerned I am a fool, and she had dared me! I bent down, bent her over my shoulder and with her laughing her head off took off down the stairs to the room I had chosen for my bedroom. I put the now half empty bottle of whisky down on a side table and dumped my mum down on my bed, then flopped down beside her.

We were drunk, both of us, but nevertheless I'm pretty sure that we both knew what we were doing, the drink was just an excuse, the key that opened that particular door.

"Come on big boy, show me what you can do!"

Both my dressing gown and her kimono were still up in the room above us, she was dressed in a rather flimsy night gown, me in my shorty pyjamas. The night gown covered nothing, and she didn't try to make it do so, it was up almost to her hips and I could clearly see that she shaved, not fully but leaving just a thin 'landing strip' of blonde hair. I was very inexperienced, but even I could tell that her sex was swollen, she was turned on, and that made my already 'firm' cock even harder. As I leaned into her to kiss her she pulled me in, and opened her legs. As we kissed in the way that mothers and sons are not supposed to do she raised her knees. I was now laid on top of her, her legs open, her knees drawn up. I helped as she fumbled with my shorts, she grasped my now painfully hard cock, rubbed it up and down her wet slit and in seconds I was in her. There was no discussion, no debate, and no messing about, just a moment's pause as she rubbed the top of my engorged cock up and down her wet slit before I rammed myself deep into her moist warmth.

I kissed her neck, she bit mine, I kissed my way down her throat and to the top of her breasts. Her encouraging murmurs were not lost on me. Opening the buttons on her night gown she bared her breasts which were soon licked and suckled as her nipples seemed to harden like stone. I was jack hammering into her as she called for more and harder, her fingernails digging into my back and buttocks as she pulled me in. I don't remember my feelings or emotions, all I do remember is that I was fucking my mother, and she was fucking me, hard!