May's B&B Pt. 02

Erotica northern

After I'd eaten my cum from Ella's fanny and licked her clean, we sat on the bed and talked. Mick was a couple of years older than May. She had run away from an abusive Farther--physical, not sexual.

She was going to London but had the misfortune to bump into Mick who had a room in a boarding house he called his flat. It had a bed, and he shared his food with her, and he thought he owned her. That's when he got her pregnant.

They crossed the Irish Sea from Larne to Cairnryan, first travelling to Glasgow, then south on the east coast railway. The conductor checked their tickets at Wakefield; they didn't have any, so he threw them off the train at Doncaster.

Mick got a labouring job in a Doncaster factory, and May, as everyone called her then, got herself a job sewing knickers and bras at another Doncaster factory. One of the guys with whom Mick worked brought him down to the rugby club.

At the time, we were a fairly decent rugby team with a five-star social side. We had parties and discos, people from outside the club would pay over the odds to members to get them guest tickets. My best friend Taylor His given name is Sean, but even his mum called him Taylor; his wife, Jill, pretty much ran the social side.

Lots of the parties were fancy dress; this one was special. My mum made me a little bow-peep costume. I nicked my two-year-old nephew's doggy on wheels, disguised it as a sheep, and won the competition.

What I didn't remember was that by then Jill had befriended May and was heavily engaged in rehabilitating her and getting her to boot out her toxic husband. That night, I got paralytic. Went back to Taylor and Jill's place in their car; May was also in the back.

At the time they only had a two-bedroom house; Ella staying with them there was supposedly a secret; no one else knew at the time, May was pretty much living with them full time and getting herself back onside for a decent life.

I swear I don't remember any of this, but Ella now insists that we actually fucked. Ella-May tells me that as soon as I was in bed with her, I had a hard on, and as Mick has a cock like a matchstick, it seemed very rude to waste it. Her words, not mine.

The party had been in my honour. It was my last game. I was leaving to work on a voluntary service overseas project teaching engineering skills to the indigenous populations of several South Sea islands. Up until today, that was the best year of my life.

If I'm honest, and I think I need to be now, if I'd had the bottle to ask her, Ella May would have jumped at the chance to come with me. I should have jumped at the chance of jumping her bones. I didn't have the bottle to ask her, thus committing the two of us to a loveless life for the last 15 years. What an absolute shit for brains idiot I can be. Jesus Christ, I so need her to love me. because, to be sure, I love her.

There was a guy at the rugby club Don Blackman, who was always on the lookout to make a buck. When I came home on my first 6-month leave, he was more than interested in my tale of supplying drinking water to thousands.

I had a very willing work force. There was a lot of work there lots of VSO grant money to buy pumps, pipework, unbelievably the big companies would not supply at anything like the right prices, their salesmen thought we were all monkeys. As it was grant money they refused to budge on their margins and at the time, there was pretty much no one else.

Don and I started a company. We looked like two kids scraping to make a start Don made the right noises and the same salesmen fell over themselves cutting their margins to supply us

As soon as the banks saw it was grant-backed, the cash didn't just flow; it flooded in. Only seven years later, we sold out to one of the big boys in pumping, I had a seven-figure bank balance. Don, my business partner, wanted more; I didn't.

I figured I had enough for my needs for the rest of my life. I bought a house in the Surrey village of Arbinger, and I bought my little bit of heaven that fell to earth in Wales.

Don is a very rich man these days, its what he wants, the very best of luck to him.

In my sincere opinion, Surrey is a shit place to live, so I sold the house in Surrey and made another pile of money. That's by my standards. I've got a lump sum of money, and I live very well indeed off the investment interest.

I've got two cars, three bikes, six if I include dads, and no one at all to share them with. I've just been tossed a lifeline by my best friend's wife; the other end is tied to a bit of a she-devil. I know I need to hold on to this.

Ella May has gone for a bath and is changing. She wants to go out for dinner. I've asked her questions, but she wants me to give her a bit of time. I've had a shower, and I've replaced my rag with a new t-shirt staring a photo of a pint of Guinness and a parrot.

This is going through my head, and I'm shitting myself. It's fairly obvious to me that the B&B is a front. It's fairly obvious that Taylor and his mistress set me up. The B&B is a front for a BDSM dungeon and a pro-dome. May is that pro-dome! I've very little experience, well, actually none, but I'd say a fucking good one. That in itself, I can live with. If I had the bottle, I'd have visited one myself beforehand. If I am getting her services for free it would be rude to complain.

Jan and Ella are best friends. Is Jan setting her mate up with a date or something more permanent? I'm either a date or something more permanent. I don't want to think about the money side at the moment. My head hurts and Jesus H Christ, I'm fucking confused.

I'm sitting at her kitchen table. And I hear the click, click, click of heels on the stairs. Ella walks into the room looking like a film star. Not quite a porn film star but teetering on the edge, or rather, teetering on 6 inch heels.

Dressed head to toe in leather. She is wearing a skin-tight pencil skirt in black nylon with blacker seems. The top of the dress is another corset. OK, then, she is dressed like a porn star. This corset almost adequately hides her boobs. I can see the edges of her chocolate drops but not the two puppies noses.

She has just wanked me fucked me twice and for good measure sucked my cock until I blew what felt like the last come I'm likely to produce before Christmas down her throat.

Ella If you want to go out to dinner, where in Doncaster do we go with you dressed like that and me dressed like this? Don't you like it? Like it, fuck sake, girl, I got another boner as soon as you walked through the door. I got a 10,000-watt smile this time. She touched a finger on her lip. "Ooh, why have you got a cucumber in your pocket Rick?"

Straighten my seems for me, please. As I got close enough to see clearly and smell, I realised the whole outfit was latex. My chest hurt my heart was hammering in it. Well, straighten them. We are not in D&S mode, but I am noting your tally. I was on my knees, my hands on her latex-clad pins. Ella my darling, I need to talk to you.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Get that Rick I'm just powdering my nose. When I opened the door, Taylor and Jill stood there. Taylor had a shit-eating grin on his face. Jill, who looked like my date's sister in latex bondage, said, "How did it go, big boy? Can you sit down yet?"

"I need some questions answered."

No, you don't, mate," said Taylor. Just ride it like you stole it.

"Come on in. Said Ella. I don't want the neighbours talking. In the front room, everyone; I think my new squeeze is a little confused. Rick, my dear man we are going to a fetish club in Sheffield. A cab will be here in just over half an hour."

Jill took the con. "Rick, the last time I tried this, it ended with you walking away from her and my best friend Ella in tears for a week. Ella looked at the floor, I started babbling. Shut the fuck up, Rick; we haven't got time. Back then, you told Taylor you liked her on more than one occasion."

"About ten times a day, seven days a week, Taylor chipped in."

Jill carried on, "I distinctly remember you punching Joansy's lights out for calling her a slapper. She is my best mate ever, and I know her better than anyone. I know who she is, and I know you. I know she enjoys playing the whip, or rather taws-wielding sadistic bitch of your dreams, I know the soft bitch fell head over heels in love with you the day she first set eyes on you. You're just right for her, silly man. You're more submissive than Taylor here, and this girl over here knows absolutely what's best for a naughty boy like you. For fucks sake man, just give it a whirl."

I'm confused.

OK, I'll give you that. When the Bastard, from Belfast, last hit, my best friend Taylor got himself locked in a cell for the night. He battered the bastard. I was so proud of him that he got a free shag on the back seat of our car when I picked him up from the Clink.

"And a blow job when she got me home," said Taylor."

Jill gave him a death-ray glare. I was obviously looking a bit shell-shocked. Taylor, show him your cock. Taylor dropped his pants. His tadger was locked in a tubular stainless steel cage.

What my soon-to-be whipped and bleeding worm is trying to say to Rick, my sweet, is that he doesn't get much. Taylor, I will tell your very macho, very well-hung mate here why I keep your fun bar locked up tight if you don't shut the fuck up. Trust me, Rick, he gets plenty; he just simply isn't allowed to throw it over his wrist any more.

"So, explanation time. First and foremost, this is not a whorehouse, and my best friend is not a high-class whore who beats worthless men for a living. It's a fucking club. An extremely exclusive club, and perhaps fucking is the worst adjective I could have used. Ooh; you didn't let him fuck you, Ella, did you?" The woman, who was now apparently my new squeeze, looked a little sheepish.

"Oh, you silly bitch, you did. Did she beat your arse first?"

"Oh yes," I said.

"Yeah right, Let me see, Oh, fuck, she did, didn't she? Jill was Tracing lines with her finger, she said, "That's a cane; there must be a dozen of them, but what's this?" Oh, you poor fucker Rick. She used that bastard taws on you. Didn't she. 12 with that."

"Er yes."

"Ooh, You poor sod. I suppose you deserved a shag for that. We will have to relax that rule anyway if my plan for my best friend to seduce you works and you move in here."

 If I've got this right, Jill, I don't think I want to live here. Ella's face fell. I think I want to buy us a place of our own or at least rent somewhere just for me and Ella-May to call home.

You've got some money stashed away?" said Taylor. Yeah, a bit, mate. Remember when Dave Holmes made all that money, his first big break?"

"Yeah."

"I owned half the company."

"Oh, just a bit, then."

"yup!"

Then the doorbell rang again. I opened the door. "Taxi for Taylor", said the guy at the door. I grabbed Ella's arm, and we didn't budge. If we ain't spoiling any plans, can we stay here and make a plan or two ourselves?

I've got to work out how I'm going to introduce my mistress, first to my mum, then to the rest of the world. I don't want to hide who I am any more. Ella's eyes started leaking. It wasn't crying; she told me that I couldn't contradict my mistress, could I?

We waved them off, and I said, "Are you going to show me this playroom then?"

"No! Let's have something to eat. Then I'll show you around the house. "Let's just order a takeaway, eat, sit, chat, and just be with each other."

"OK Darling, but only if I can kiss your nipples for pudding. You are going to be kissing my nipples ten times a day for the rest of your life, baby."

"I don't know any food places any more, Ella; you order, I'll pay."

"That's a deal."

So we sat and talked a bit. The food came: Chinese, Kevin's love tip for the day. Don't eat hot curries if there is any chance at all of eating pussy after. It will fuck your night right up when she jumps out of bed to stick her fiery minge in the kitchen sink.

The food was good. The pudding was better, I could eat Ella's nipples and fanny batter three times a day seen days a week. I was in heaven; I took Ella with me for the visit. She has very big, easy-to-press buttons.

She told me the story of the house. Mick won a fairly decent amount in the lottery. He had purposely dragged his feet with the divorce. His actions didn't go well for him, he contested the divorce, and ran his own defence.

When the photos and medical records came out the judge told Mick if he didn't stop wasting the court's time he'd send him down for contempt of court As Ella cleaned up her act, she became more and more popular at the club. There were two distinct social factions in the club; the married couples and the single men.

Most of the single men managed to bridge the gap. So this was not at all divisive Being a rugby club back then there were no single women other than at parties and discos. Its a testament to the girls that, they refused to give up on one of their own. May was simply not allowed to slip away and hide.

There was a guy who played at the club called Dunmore; he is a solicitor. He liked the new and improved Ella a lot he liked the special love she trats me to now. He had a poor marriage at the time and needed a bit of love. Ella was happy to be his bit on the side but she wanted no more than that from him.

Much later, after we were wed I asked her why she didn't look to snare him. She gave me a sour look. "Fuck me, I've married the village idiot" he isn't you; duffer!

He was, I suppose, what the Americans call a family law specialist. He took Ella's case on a no win no fee basis. By the time Mick finally settled, he had bought the winning ticket. And Dunmore set about separating him from his winnings. A few months later we were in the pub, I was trying to thank him. "I wanted the judge to order him to sell his vital organs;" Rick he said. A hundred and forty five thou ain't much for a baby girl is it!

During the process, Dunmore smelled a rat and took Mick back to court. Ella and Dunmore won. Mick lost out bigtime, nearly all of it to Ella. Ella bought the house--well, half of it. Then it went wrong for her again; the firm she worked for went bust. She couldn't pay the mortgage. Dunmore, who is as sick a puppy as me, helped Ella set up the syndicate that effectively time shares the top floor. Both Taylor and Jill bought a share each, so Ella didn't have to; she was skint but she still kept her house. Then, with the blessing of the other shareholders, she started hosting the parties.

We talked about getting a place of our own. Having had to scrimp and save her whole life made her question every penny. The idea of going house-hunting without kissing a bank manager's arse first worried her. I eventually managed to convince her I did have the money, and it wasn't going to disappear into a bookie's till or the nearest Boozer. I threatened her with drawing it all out in pennies and making her shovel it from one side of the room to the other.

I still had worries; I wondered if Ella and Jill were pulling the wall over my eyes. If Ella was skint, where did the thousand pounds worth of top-end latex fetish fashion she was wearing this very minute come from? She must have someone buying her stuff. Would she tell me in her own time? Would she insist on keeping him as an occasional lover? I didn't like that last thought one bit; for the first time in my life, I felt possessive about someone.

We talked about my family and introducing her. She was shitting herself about meeting my brother Sean and Shirley, his wife, again. She was having a bad enough time thinking the two of them would have told my mother bad things about her. It was pure bollocks, of course. Like a lot in the club my brother would have happily kicked Mick until he stopped bleeding. Like the rest of the club, he felt sorry for the poor girl who had been married to him.

I showed her photo after photo of my place in Wales. She was a bit nervous about that as well. Poor Ella had always lived in cities or towns. To her eyes, all that green stuff looked positively scary. The one thing that switched a light on for her was featured in a couple of the photos: my neighbour's horses. Again, my new squeeze proved his absolute ignorance of all things countryside when I said you could have a horse if we lived there.

Don't be silly; they cost far too much, don't they?

You're being silly, love. They practically give away old hunters who are too old to hunt. It's keeping them that costs money. There are fifty acres there spare to keep one on. You won't be able to keep our next-door neighbour Seren, away if you have a horse or two, she has six I think.

Ella straddled my lap, looked into my eyes, and said, "After I've punished you for your indiscretions, you're going to fuck me until I'm bandy-legged.

The only problem that remained was the upkeep of this place. She was worried the others would see her as letting everyone down. I pointed out that if she gave up the hosting, as I would prefer her to do, the parties could go on. Just rotate the hosting duties. The others will be cool as a polar bear's pantry with it. Jill will see to it that anyone who isn't

So we went to see the playroom. The house was pretty much a four-bedroom detached house. The shareholders have put some extra cash in and done a loft conversion. All the loft is devoted to play, and there is a dressing room where the girls keep some of their fetish clothing. Everywhere else upstairs is devoted to S&M play.

There is a rack, stocks, and a pillory. A male pillory secures its victim by his plumbs and is used exclusively for cock and ball torture. Ella introduced me to CBT later that evening. A forced cunnilingus chair Actually two. I was introduced to the best one there, and then the other.

There is a cage; it pretty much belongs to Jan. It fits Taylor like a glove. She locks him in it. Then she fucks other men in front of him so Ella delighted in telling me. When she is carrying a full load, she moves Taylor from the cage to the chair. Once he is in there, he has no alternative but to eat whatever is put in front of him.

She caught him playing away from home once. I wondered if he was still paying for it. Ella said "don't be daft. If he really didn't want to, he wouldn't come back a second time. Ella also told me Taylor hadn't been allowed inside Jill since that day. Strange guy, my best mate.

"Who was she?" I asked idly."

"You really have no idea, have you?"

"Pardon, am I missing something?"

"Only the elephant in the room! Rick, my sweet man. Your best friend is bisexual. Jill knew when she married him. That's why they are still together, idiot. It was a man; she would have killed them both if it had been a woman. A guy he was at university with was balls deep in Taylor's arse when Jill found them. I think Taylor arranged it so Jill could find him. He's as bad as you for asking for what he really wants."

"What does he want?" I said, my face agog.

"What every girl wants is a big, fat cock inside him."

"So that's why his cock is under lock and key?"

No, you fuckwit. He's under lock and key because, he wants his cock to be under lock and key. He wants to be owned. Jill owns his cock; she owns him. Taylor is a happy man, gurl, slut. Whatever, he has a very happy mistress too.

"Why the forced cum eating, then?"

"That's a bit more of a difficult question, Rick; it's something Jill doesn't like much."

"Why does she make him do it then?"