The Mystery Box Pt. 01

A new life with a new wife and the acquisition of a sealed box, the contents of which were destined to change our lives and teach me more about Susan and myself than we thought possible.

Susan was the intuitive one in our partnership, meticulous in attention to detail and extremely sensitive to emotions and feelings, while I represented a more happy go lucky approach to life, willing to discover everything about my new wife and, if possible accommodate her wishes in every way that I could - which worked well thus far in our relatively new relationship.

It was Susan's idea for us to move to the country, a cottage in a small village in Devon bordering Dartmoor which, although remote, would allow plenty of time to ourselves and opportunities for Susan to research the book that she always thought was inside her head, once the subject had presented itself.

'You could do what you have always dreamed of doing Adam,' Susan gushed, 'There must be plenty of auctions and sale rooms for you to build up your stock ready for the next antique sale.'

She was right, the area had several such places and believe it or not, there was a mixed auction in the village close to ours, the very next day.

While Susan busied herself at home unpacking and sorting some of our joint book collection, I took the opportunity to attend the sale and to make a bid on a 'sealed box' the contents of which were unknown to the purchaser and hence relatively cheap.

All that was known about the box is that it was reputed to come from a notorious Victorian Women's Reformatory dedicated to, (as the Victorians chose to describe it), 'Young women in need of guidance.'

Even before moving into the village I had heard tales about this place and its terrible reputation, which I attributed to local rumour, exaggerated to attract tourists but when I found myself the sole bidder for the box and able to win the lot for a paltry five pounds I wondered to what extent superstition had worked in my favour.

My darling wife was overjoyed with my purchase and eager to open a box that, judging by its dusty decrepit exterior, might hold treasures too fabulous to mention.

Because I loved to see Susan really excited I decided not to tell her anything about the history of the Woman's Reformatory, or its reputed connection to the box occupying a central position in our lounge, preferring instead to watch her open the box and delve within.

'Isn't it exciting darling?' She cooed, 'There may be rubbish or treasure, please sit still Adam and let me show you in my own time.'

Having to contain my excitement, I watched her cut through the tapes that secured the lid and prise it open before peering into the space that was revealed.

'There is this', She said, holding aloft a heavy tarnished brass inkstand that once might have been a grand embellishment to the governor's office, 'Lots of old newspapers dating from 1859 up to 1861, a couple of ledgers with nothing on the covers to hint at their contents, a bundle of exercise books and right at the bottom of the box an item of mystery that was to instigate radical changes to each of us, although we could not know that at the time.

The item stretched the full length of the box, (about two and a half feet by my estimation), and was wrapped in layer upon layer of material that looked very much like oilcloth.

'This thing can go', Susan announced, holding the item at arms length and shuddering in revulsion at the sight of it.

'Now now Susan, you don't even know what it is,' I reminded her, 'Aren't you going to unwrap it? For all you know it might be something rare or collectable, something I can use on my stall.'

I could see that the package was well wrapped, layer upon layer of waxed cloth meant that someone had gone to a certain amount of trouble to preserve the contents, and that surely was worth investigating.

'Looks like it could do with a good scrub,' Susan remarked, lifting the item and examining it closely. 'It is leather I think and split up the middle with a sort of grip at the other end, something used in the agricultural sector maybe, or perhaps an equestrian item - anyway who would want to buy an old thing like that?'

'Something for you to research darling?' I suggested, 'After all it would be educational and may even give you a few ideas for that book of yours.'

I recognised immediately what it was and if I had hinted at its origin then Susan would have guessed it too. We were still in the early stages of getting to know each other and things could go either way, she might be horrified, disgusted even, but she might be inspired to continue research and hold her judgement until more was known about the sinister object. I hoped that time invested in research might convince her of the latter because I felt already that this item represented a tangible link with the past and possible corroboration of the facts concerning the myth that had

grown about a place once so close to our home.

'Try Google, look for images,' I suggested, 'And when you have identified it see if you can find out how to feed leather that has been left for a while and which has lost some of its former suppleness'

The evening was well advanced, so Susan decided to save her research for the next day, (the day that I had plans to visit another auction in a neighbouring village), it being our practice to complete personal ablutions early and retire to bed with time to devote to ourselves.

We both enjoy a healthy sex life but that night Susan remarked afterwards that she felt as though something had inspired me to experiment and deviate from the norm to our mutual benefit - I could not describe, or understand this change in me but it was certainly connected to the tawse and to Susan's possible reaction to it once she had discovered its true purpose.

The next day I left my wife at her laptop, so engrossed that she hardly noticed I had gone.

All day I wondered what sort of reception I would have upon my return, would she be distraught? I had no way of knowing and so tried to put the matter out of my mind and concentrate on the sale and the prior viewing.

I was fortunate to meet a man who remembered me from yesterday's auction.

'You bought the sealed box of things from Greystone House House I believe?' He said, ' Anything interesting in there?'

I kept it simple and told him that I had not the time to look into it but hoped to do so soon.

From that contact I learned that there was to be a further auction of more substantial items from Greystone House House, 'Furniture mostly' he thought, although I paid little heed at the time I did make a note of the place, day and time.

I returned home after a disappointing day at the auction with hardly anything new to put on my weekly stall.

I felt excited but cautious as I entered our home and soon discovered my darling wife fully engrossed upon her task, that of massaging nutrient into the tawse that would restore it to its former magnificence.

Susan was intently rubbing a cloth in circular movements, almost lovingly, into the the instrument, before dipping her cloth once more into the tin of Dubbin that was open on the kitchen table in order to resume her painstaking task.

I must have surprised her because her face reddened instantly, reminding me again of the time I caught her masturbating not long after our marriage and when I teased her with the choice of a spanking or me joining in and masturbating too.

In the event I chose the latter but still wonder to this day if she would have preferred the spanking, or perhaps both?

I waited until she had finished her task, enjoying the sensual movement of the cloth that restored life and energy into the strap that many before had regarded with dread.

'You have been a busy girl haven't you?'

'More than you can imagine,' she replied with a cheeky grin.

'I trust that you have identified the item that you seem to be lavishing care and attention towards Susan?'

'Oh yes,' she said somewhat breathlessly, 'And you knew all along didn't you darling, you just wanted me to find out for myself?'

'And now that you have?'

'I learned from Google just what a masterpiece of design this item is, and how the twin lashes are able to punish every contour of the flesh that it comes into contact with - I just wonder if this one has been used in anger on some poor soul,' she said with feeling.

'On some poor girl or woman,' I informed her then told her what I knew of its origin and the fearsome reputation of Greystone House House.

'Oh my goodness Adam, how thrilling, it means that I have more of a connection now that you have told me that,' she gushed. Adding enthusiastically, 'Shall we have a quick tea and then take this upstairs with us for another of our special times together before tucking down?'

What she was suggesting was to become a nightly ritual, both of us naked and side by side on the bed, holding the hand nearest to us and recounting significant instances of our day - and I, for one, could not wait for it to begin.

We both finished our tea in record time and then moved upstairs, Susan clutching the taswse close to her and laying it on the bed reverentially, stretching it out in readiness for it to be beside her when we had finished our shower and were ready for action.

My cock was almost fully erect by the time we reached our bedroom but Susan's eyes were so focussed on the tawse that she hardly noticed my burgeoning arousal.

When we had settled comfortably, our hands entwined like the lovers we are, I asked her what she had discovered about the punishment instrument that was now lying the full length of her sensual body, from between her breasts to the point between her legs that gave us the most pleasure.

'It seems that to be whipped by this item is an experience that no one would wish to repeat. The pain cannot be described even though it is unlikely to break the skin and can therefore be used with force,' she informed me, gripping my hand tighter now.

'What else did you discover?'

'After cleaning I could see two initials, G and H, so that backs up what you were told about Greystone House House, but there are also some flowers underneath, pretty ones that seem quite unnecessary considering the purpose of the object.'

'Ahh that is the Victorians for you darling, two faced in many ways, and to impress on an item of cruelty a symbol of beauty is a fine example of hypocrisy and perversion typical of those times.'

'Oh goodness, such wicked perversity,' Susan gasped excitedly, 'I ought to feel ashamed of how I feel now but I cannot help it.'

As she spoke I could see the tawse rippling from the corner of my eye and I know that she was fingering her vagina, driven by the significance of my words.

'Are you masturbating Susan?' I asked sternly.

'Well fuck me then Adam and I will not have to - and be as forceful as you like, you know what I mean,' she gasped.

I needed no further invitation and my already rock hard cock thrust urgently into her soaking receptive cunt.

Our coupling was the best yet and she never complained when I gripped her breasts tightly and pulled her stiff nipples until her eyes watered.

After, we lay there as before, holding hands and not ready for sleep.

She asked if I had plans for tomorrow and I said that I had not.

'Could we spend some time going through the rest of the box? I would love that and maybe we could learn more about the history and practices of the infamous Greystone House House,' she suggested.

'I am sure that there will be clues in there, maybe some fuel for the book that seems to be building in that pretty head of yours...'

I remember nothing else, until we awoke the next morning.