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1/1/2023 5:23 am

Erotica short story

MRS BURLING
THE ART OF RAISING A HUSBAND

Mrs Burling stood in the doorway of the box room, her face set in that usual grimace of displeasure. She simply wasn't happy. Teddy Jr. was old enough by now to take responsibility for keeping the room tidy, instead of laundry all over the floor, sharp bits of Lego - part of which she had just stood on - and then there were the sheets. Teddy Jr. would need to be spoken to about those sheets.

"Katie darling, you ready? Tony is waiting, with the car," came the voice of her husband from the hallway downstairs.

Eventually Mrs B emerged, gliding down the long wide staircase, dressed in a glittering evening dress of shimmering grey that matched the colour of her long flowing locks.

Mr. Burling, a fresh looking politician some years his wife's junior, was waiting impatiently by the front door. "Come along, darling, Tony has the car ready and we really don't want to be late," he told her. Mrs. B simply raised a stern eyebrow at her husband. "I mean we don't…" he began to stutter, “well I ju - ju- just thought it might be a g- good idea to get there on time. P- perhaps we c- can get away earlier."

Mrs B intervened, hushing him with a lace gloved finger to his lip. "Now take a deep breath," she instructed.

"Neither of us want to be staying there too late, do we? My God you look absolutely ravishing," he concluded.

"Theo," she responded coolly. "The term 'ravishing' may - in modern day English - imply 'captivating' or 'divine' but as your middle aged wife of some 14 years or more, this - we both know- I am neither. And neither am I likely to harbour the desire to be 'ravaged.' Such a misogynistic choice of adjective I find deeply offensive, I might add. Now;” she paused for breath, “have you been practicing your speech for the Commons tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes my good lady, wife."

"Then you can recite it in the car on the way and there is absolutely no need for sarcasm, either, Theo."

Seated in the back of the Rolls Royce Phantom, (Mrs Burling's choice, Mr. B was an absolute Neanderthal when it came to etiquette), Theo went over the speech he was due to deliver in the Commons the next day. "And don't refer to them as ''," Mrs B interrupted him. "They are . '' sounds like … well I don't know… a herd of goats or something, I suppose. I hate it when people refer to as '’ and particularly when their parents do too. I mean” - and she softened her tone. “You would never hear me referring to Teddy Junior as a '' now would you?" She looked at him, and he returned a shy smile and she rather imagined - a little blush. She reached across and squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry, dear. Insensitive of me," he said softly.

She pulled her hand away sharply and looked ahead with disdain. Her guard was up again and fully functioning. "What on earth is wrong with you?" She said. After a moment she continued; "and that reminds me, Teddy Junior's room is a mess. Have you noticed? Well no I don't suppose you have. Not for a moment. But it is an intolerable state and I think he is old enough by now to tidy up his own bedroom. Don't you think?"

"Should I…" Theo could feel the weight of expectation. "Shouldn't Nanny be dealing with it; you think? Have a word with him, perhaps?" he said.

"Yes," she admitted, under her exasperated breath. "I suppose she should. And soon," she added.

Tony eased the Phantom along the long drive, the sound of the gravel beneath the tyres, a most satisfying sound to Theo, although not nearly as satisfying as sitting in the driver's seat himself, in control of all that horsepower. Alas, this was a pleasure denied to Theo on account of his wife's insistence that it would simply not do for a Parliamentarian of Theo's stature to engage in such common practice. "My God, Teddy," she had once chided him when he dared suggest it, "next you'll be wanting to ride a bicycle to the Commons."

Not that Mrs Burling was entirely happy with having to lodge a man on the estate who had such an aloof manner either. She had complained to her husband on a number of occasions about this man’s rather audacious attitude and did he really need to have all those tattoos?”
“My darling,” Theo had insisted, “I can hardly ask him to get them removed, now can I?”
“Well, then at least tell the man to keep his shirt on when he is working on the gardens,” she had replied. “It is rather unseemly.”

She didn’t speak to her husband until they were nearing Number 10. "Please would you notify the - chauffeur," - she refused to refer to any employee by name, it simply wouldn't do to be on such familiar terms - "that I would be much obliged if he could wait around for an hour after we arrive. Could you do that Teddy? I know that he would normally be finished for the evening but I'm afraid I am feeling one of those God awful headaches coming on already, probably psychosomatic I know - from the dread of having to sit in the drawing room with that awful Croft woman no doubt - such a dullard and that husband of hers too with his continuous schoolboy innuendos. But I really don't think I can do this tonight, Teddy, I hope you don't mind and besides the Camerons are your friends, not really mine and I'm sure you'd much rather have a drink or two with your 'boys club' and loosen up a bit without me around."

"Well if you are..." Theo was not sure what he should say to this. After all, an hour or two off the leash so to speak was tempting. "I mean if you really aren't well, then we should come back together…"

"Oh don't be absurd, Teddy. What on earth could you do for a migraine? Except to make it worse, I shouldn't wonder. No, I shall make my polite excuses. Um…" she gestured flippantly in the general direction of the front seat. "He can run me home and you can stay there and get a cab back. Just mind you don't get carried away that's all. Look at me, Teddy!" She added abruptly. He turned to face her. "And not too late, darling," her voice was taking on a softer tone now. "It might disturb Nanny; you hear?"

"Yes."

"Good! Now let me straighten out that dickie bow before we get there. God love us that you might one day learn to dress yourself." She loosened the article round his neck and started to tie it all over again. "And by the way," Mrs Burling spoke in a rather hushed tone. "Don't be getting all gushy over me will you? When we are there."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean don't be so… you know… doting. It gives the wrong impression. There are rumours, you know? I'm sure."

"Rumours? What rumours?" Theo cut in.

"Oh you know, that you are under your wife’s thumb so to speak."

"Let them think that," said Theo, rather proudly. "It will throw them off guard and besides. you know that I adore you."

"Oh such silly nonsense, completely unnecessary. I'm being serious, Theo. I insist. It makes them think that you aren't able to make decisions on your own and that is not going to get you into Number 10 now is it?" She finished straightening his bow tie and then suddenly gripping his chin with steely fingers, she forced him to look her in the eye. "And you do want to be in Number 10, don't you, my Teddy boy?"

"Yes, my dear wife, I do."
“That’s what I like to hear,” she said and as they entered through the door she quietly mused that the first thing she would do is change the dreary décor.

*

There was a bit of a problem. Or rather there had been but Theo managed to smooth it over and as they handed their coats to the butler in the reception hall, he explained.

"It's his 's birthday. Or was - well - still is obviously, but I eventually persuaded him to attend her party a little later. Apparently she's six today" Then he whispered rather conspiratorially, "Had to offer the man a little sweetener so to speak."

Mrs. Burling looked at her husband, quite dumbfounded at first and then her eyes narrowed. "You did what?" So Theo explained - very proudly indeed too- that he had "twisted Tony’s arm but only the proverbial sense, after all the man is ex Marines, hardly likely to be able to twist his arm, physically now am I? Well, anyway, yes, the short of it is that he’s agreed to join his 's - I mean, ’s party, later. I slipped him a hundred and fifty notes to buy her a really nice present to make up for any disappointment. You see how I look after my better half, my love, my Mistress Katie."

She just looked at him in what Theo could only interpret as abject horror. And then she beckoned to the Campbell's butler who had just taken charge of the outdoor attire belonging to the Crofts. They must have just arrived behind the Burlings. "Where is he?" Mrs B. snapped at her husband, galvanised by the sight of Geraldine Croft.

"I told him to hang around in the car, " he told her, looking rather forlorn.

Mrs Burling whispered instructions to the butler who nodded and then quickly headed off to the front door. Mrs B looked at her husband and in a hushed but harsh tone that was barely containing her contempt, told him; "how much do you think it would cost for me to take a cab? And yet you paid him how much?"

"Ah. Hadn’t thought of that," he said.

"Yes you bloody fool."

"But my love…"

"Ah, look who has just arrived," Mrs B was suddenly all beaming smiles. "How delightful. Geraldine darling, so glad you are joining us tonight. Is that a Ralph Lauren you are wearing? My dear you look simply divine…"

II

"I say," said Croft, a rather gangly middle aged man who was addressing Theo at the long dining table. "Do you ever get to drive that Phantom of yours, dear fellow?" Mrs Burling sighed heavily. Bertie Croft was such a weasel who she could imagine still being in short trousers with his pockets stuffed with bubble gum and conkers. I mean really, she thought - who still addresses colleagues as "fellow" and what sort of parents would name their , Bertie, anyhow? Rumour was that Bertie still had a nanny too, like Teddy Jr.

"Only occasionally, Bertie. When the missus allows." Theo responded which earned him a swift kick in the calf from under the table.

"Only occasionally?" Bertie Croft raised an eyebrow and a sly dirty little boy smirk slid across his face. "Geraldine loves me taking the wheel regularly, don’t you, darling? The power of my throbbing piston, and all that, eh?" he guffawed.

"My dear Katherine, you don't look at all well," Mrs Cameron intervened. At last this was Katherine’s reprieve. She would be able to make her excuses and with a little support from Theo, leave with the sympathy of their hostess. She waited. Then reaching her hand under the table, she gently squeezed her husband's scrotum.

"Ow! Oh! Yes! I'm afraid she has been feeling rather fragile all day," Theo responded.

"Oh that is a shame. Would you like me to fetch you anything?"

"I'm afraid it's one of her migraines," Theo replied. "She doesn't often suffer from them, luckily - but the problem is, when she does, Katherine tends to try and deny its existence, hoping it will all just go away, of course. Isn't that so darling?" She had her head on his shoulders, eyes tightly shut by now and she nodded and released her grip on his genitalia. He breathed out with relief. "You see she can be so stubborn at times. I tried to persuade her to stay home but she so much wanted to be here…" which brought many utterances of sympathy and for Mrs Cameron to insist immediately;

"You must run home immediately, you poor dear. Did I not see your chauffeur hanging around?"

"Unfortunately, while I could foresee this outcome," Theo lied, "and asked him to hang around for a while, Katherine had insisted on dismissing him. Such is her rather pig-headedness sometimes…"

She squeezed his nether regions again and pretending to nuzzle closer to his neck, whispered; "don't push your luck."

*

Katherine left in a private cab, leaving behind a crowd of sympathetic well-wishers and a rather watery eyed husband. She had been very convincing. But that was partly due to feeling quite inexplicably anxious. A feeling that just became more pointed the closer she got to home until finally, as the cab pulled up onto the gravel entrance, she flung herself out of the back seat, up the steps to open the front door and stepped inside the hallway. Lights flickered on automatically; a soft tint of pink that to many a visitor would be deemed as welcoming but to Katherine was tainted with an empty dread; a most poignant quiet that never lessened with the years. So, without removing her coat, Katherine dashed through the grand entrance hall into the large kitchen at the back of the house, checked the connecting door which was unlocked and opened it to the adjoining garage.

The phantom was parked up; the engine was still warm. Her expression set itself into a firm grimace. He must have only just returned it. The absolute gall of the man. She moved around to the driver's side and then - quite out of impulse, Katherine removed her coat, allowing it to drop to the floor before bending over, her arms outstretched across the bonnet of the car, feeling the heat of the engine travel up her right arm and warming her breasts. Take the wheel; the power of your throbbing piston.

"So will ya be wantin' me to fuck ya over the bonnet then, Mrs B?"

Immediately, Katherine jumped and turned to face him as he stepped out of the shadows. "You bastard," she responded. Then regaining her composure in front of him, she picked up her coat. "What are you doing here, anyway? You've returned the car; I should have thought you'd be home by now. Oh yes, that was it," she spoke sardonically, "you were attending your 's birthday party, that was it. How old? Six is it? Funny but I don't remember you mentioning a wife and ."

"No wife. Just a . I'm divorced."

"Oh God!" Katherine exclaimed, raising her eyes to the heavens. "That is just so common. So fucking..." Tony was about to reply but she quickly warned him; "no! Please spare me the details, I'm sure you're a doting father and your , whatever they call them nowadays - Britney, Skye with a pretentious 'e' - I shouldn't wonder- No! Don't. I really have no interest…" Tony stepped in closer until her face was level with the V line of his open neck shirt and she could smell his smell… "like I said, I'm sure you dote on her but don't go thinking for one moment that…" It was not the synthetic musk some men like Theo might wear as an afterthought but pure animal… "that I am interested in your mundane life…" a pheromone of wood and diesel she imagined oozed from his every pore and it made her wet; very wet. If he dares touch me now, I swear to God I will scream.

Tony took the coat from her and threw it across the bonnet. "Oh, hush now," he calmly requested. "I am only here to fuck you, Mrs B, not give you my life story” and then she felt a strong hand pressing into the small of her back so that it arched towards his midriff. "So don't flatter yourself that I would be interested in sharing anything other than my stiff cock with you." She hardly had time to gasp before she felt his mouth on hers, pressing a tongue of mint and tobacco and parting her teeth. Then that same hand travelled up her<b> slender </font></b>back to the nape of her neck where he found the zip of her evening gown and guided it all the way down to the base of her spine. He stepped back to grip her shoulders.

"Am I ravishing?" She asked, all breathy, hooking fingers inside his belt. "Ravish me you fucker… you fucking fucker man." Tony pulled the garment down over the shoulders and arms and tugged until they heard the sequins rip. "Yes, you like fucking me, don't you?" Her arms, wrapped around his shaven head, pulled him down to her bosom. He unhooked her bra and she lifted a spilt right breast to his mouth, urging him to suck and bite and make her sore. He moved from one hard nipple to the other as she instructed, bending over her as she arched backwards over the bonnet of the Phantom, her feet still in high heels resting on the rubber of the nearside tyre. Then Tony moved south, over her soft tummy and she could feel those strong coarse hands as they travelled up the inside of her gown, over her thighs to her hips, gripping the delicate lace of her panties and tearing them off. By now desire burned between her thighs, deep in the region of her uterus. She wanted his fingers there and he didn't need telling, probing the swollen flesh of the vulva, rough fingertips dipped into a sucking pool of wet honey causing her to lift her back off the bonnet of the car with a sharp intake of breath as Tony expertly probed further, two fingers sliding between the moist crack of the swollen petals, massaging the lubricated tunnel. Then he lowered his head. Soft tissue parted and fell away under the coarseness of his tongue, like the rising yeast of a fresh warm muffin. Katherine crumbled. She knew what was coming next and balked as his mouth found the nub of gristle. With all the strength of willpower she could muster, she pushed his head away from the explosive region. "Don't make me come yet," she gasped. Then she sat up and quickly unbuckled his pants, reaching her hand inside to release his cock. Holding the full length of the hard shaft between her fingers, she would have loved to have taken him in her mouth, all of it until she gagged. She loved his cock. She loved stroking it and feeling all that blood pulsing through the thick veins but she had never tasted it. Never tasted any man's semen. They say it is warm and salty. Sour cream, perhaps? She would find out. One day. One day, she promised herself, she would change the venue and visit her 'Fucker man' at his humble little annexe or maybe in the potting shed like Lady Chatterley and spend all day exploring every inch of his perfect beautiful body. "You like that don't you, Mellors?" She said and he grunted approval. So she squeezed his balls. "Answer me, fucking... fucker man. You love to ravish me, don't you?"

Tony's reaction was immediate; pushing her with expert violence back onto the bonnet of the car; splaying her legs by gripping her ankles over his shoulders; raising himself up and entering her, ramming home his uncompromising cock; looking down on her as he found a rhythm, making sure all the while that she remained pinned to the bonnet. "You are a beautiful woman, Katherine Burling. And it is an honour and a privilege to be fucking your gorgeous wet cunt."

She loved him taking the wheel. She undid the buttons on his shirt and placed her hands inside, her thumbs running lightly over his dark nipples, having already learned by now how this would arouse him further. For a while the two lovers maintained a steady rhythm with Tony never taking his eyes from her face until eventually she had to close hers and turn her head. Vaginal orgasm was an art but it had to be learned. It needed focus on her part. And one thing she had learned was that his gaze would soon become so intense that she would falter and lose it. She had also learned that at this point the line of her hair over the tender skin of her earlobe was a catalyst for him to kiss and nuzzle, stinging little nips that made her vulva swell and him pump her deeper as she would whisper in raptures; "don't you come until I say, you little fucker man or I will make you eat your own cum." That usually did it for her. And what she loved so much about her 'fucker man' was that on the odd occasions when he timed it wrong, he would always humbly oblige her.

Tonight he got it right, though. As Katherine shuddered and sobbed from the emotion of it all, again he would simply hold her. But very rarely would she let him pass the stage of attempts at soothing baby kisses on her wet cheeks before she was awkwardly untangling herself and encouraging him to get dressed and leave before her husband returned. Yet he was always gracious - that was the problem. If he had been arrogant, mocking her weakness or had been more demanding, she'd have the excuse to terminate this affair. Instead he always chose to be modest, gracious, uncomplaining and although she was obviously the duplicitous one in the affair, she felt she was never being judged. One day, she would break down and tell him everything, about her prudish upbringing. She had even imagined how that would be a rather self-effacing but light hearted account full of pathos that would make him just nod sympathetically before holding her to his breast and switching the light out. And she would confide in him how these distant cold parents of hers had led her into a steady stream of foolish affairs until she finally married the first man who she didn’t fall in love with and so therefore was able to control and how she thought she could have grown to love him if she hadn’t lost his and then found out she couldn't have anymore. But only part of that would be true. Which part - she couldn't be sure these days.

III

Mrs Burling went through to the kitchen, locking the connecting door to the garage. She paused at the island in the centre that consisted of a spacious marble worktop, a large sink and various pots, pans and other condiments suspended above. She opened a drawer in front of her, took out a chart that displayed the month- a handwritten calendar with various 'X' s marked on various days about nine or ten in all, each with a comment; the latest being 'stains on bed sheets,' which had been written in today by Nanny. Then she went upstairs to prepare.

She would need to shower. Get rid of his filth. Sex - she had decided - was overrated and not worth the mess it made. Yet, still she had a duty to fulfil. Raising a husband was a full time job and Mrs Burling had ambitions for Theo that he would never be able to achieve on his own. His one saving grace was that at least he was aware of that. And well she knew that left to his own devices, her husband would go into a serious regression. It was Katherine who had saved him fourteen years ago when they had met at one of the many charity functions she patronised; her the socialite heiress and Theo, the much younger, scruffy idealist fighting for change as a local Councillor. He had a dreadful stutter, wore ill-fitting clothes and looked in need of a good square meal but he was bright and funny and Katherine, having been continuously left high and dry by a long line of well publicised celebrity affairs had decided to take back control of her life by taking control of Theo's. She had first seduced him - a rather traumatic experience that caught her off guard at first but she since learned to manipulate his fetishisms for the greater good - married him and took his name, and then set about moulding him into a cabinet minister whose next step would be Number Ten Downing Street.

She stripped off and looked at herself in the mirror, proud that all her parts were still her own flesh and blood and that she had resisted over the years to go under the surgeon's knife. Then she sent a message to Theo. "I think you should come home now. Nanny needs to talk with you again."

By the time she had showered and changed into her uniform, consisting of a one-piece high neck black leather dress that hugged her curves, she heard the front door open and she watched him enter from the top of the stairs.

"Make sure you lock the door and straight upstairs with you," she called down to him, her voice clear and cold.

"Yes, Nanny," he said. He was quick to lock the door and climb the stairs. Her grey hair now in a strict bun, the monthly calendar that recorded his daily misgivings, was held in her hand. Around her neck on a thread, hung a pair of reading glasses, resting on her thick bosom.

She came up close and ordered him to breathe. He had been drinking but the obvious reek of mint used to hide it was still enough to pass muster with Nanny. She had always encouraged Theo to participate in whatever drinking shenanigans the "boys" of the dinner party participated in; it would seem aloof of him not to. So long as - she would regularly instruct him - he always did so moderately. The spearmint gum showed his consideration for her. Not that they would kiss. Even as husband and wife they have never really kissed. But Nanny always insisted that Teddy smell good whenever it was her duty to take charge of him.

"Follow me," she quietly instructed and she walked across the landing to
Little Teddy's bedroom. She stood by the door, turned and faced him, her hand on the door handle. "Now, I believe Little Teddy should have been made aware of Nanny's displeasure, is that so?"

"Yes, Nanny," he replied. Theo always took his part seriously and she was always thoroughly convincing on these occasions. Given her natural demeanour, this was after all, no more than an erotic extension of Katherine's very real disappointment in Theo.

She opened the door and gestured for Little Teddy to enter. "And I want you to take a good look around and tell Nanny why you are such a disappointment to her."

The most obvious displeasure was his clothes on the floor, particularly underwear. Little Teddy tried to explain that he really had meant to put those in the wash basket but then how it had just slipped his mind. And the Lego was from an experimental model of city planning which seemed like a good project but Little Teddy got bored and then clumsily knocked into Big Ben. He had meant to pick it up this morning but his Press Secretary had called him on some matter of National Security, so it wasn't really his fault. Was it? And on he went, pointing things out around the room and offering excuse after excuse but Nanny wasn't interested, besides, she informed him, all of these little misdemeanours are forgivable- "but not that!" She was pointing to the bed.

"I can make it," he offered.

"No you will change it," she instructed. "You will change those disgusting sheets after you explain to Nanny what those stains are."

"Ah," Little Teddy responded. This he hadn't expected and he was genuinely embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Nanny. It's …"

"It's betrayal, Teddy," she cut in.

"Yes, yes it is, Nanny and I'm so sorry but you see I had that urge…"

"WHAT - did I tell you about that, Teddy boy? What was our agreement?"

Teddy drooped his head in shame, stared at her feet, the pointed toes of her flat shoes.

"Well?" she prompted. "I'm waiting."

"I'm not to pleasure myself without Nanny's supervision," he answered.

"And yet you have, haven't you?"

He nodded.

"So who is it? Who is she?"

Teddy looked up at her, rather shocked. "Oh no, Nanny, it wasn't like that. I would never… you see I can't always wait and well…" then Teddy got very upset and started blubbering and Nanny hated that. Boys should never blubber. Particularly when they are in the wrong. Just own up, own your frailties. Wasn’t that how she had raised him? That was Nanny's immutable stance on the issue. Then, ordering Teddy to get the room tidied and to make sure that he was undressed and assuming the position by the time she returned, she left, closing the door firmly behind her.

She was not sure who she had really been in there. Was it his Nanny or his wife? The two roles seemed to have merged more and more into each other in recent years. Since… but that was behind her now. It was Katherine who had to be stronger and take control.

When Nanny returned, Little Teddy was undressed, on his knees assuming the spanking position over the bed. She closed the bedroom door and sat cross legged on a chair in the corner. "Now," she spoke rather breezily, with an indifferent and officious quality. "You have cleaned up I see. This is good. And have you had enough time to think over why Nanny might be feeling so disappointed?"

"Yes, Nanny," he replied.

"And?"

"I have been deceitful?"

"In what way?"

"I have been pleasuring myself without Nanny's consent and it must be very disappointing for Nanny because she must be thinking why I would do that when Nanny provides such wonderful and satisfying supervision. But…"

"Enough now!"

"But Nanny can I just say something?" He pleaded. "Please?"

"No, Teddy, you may not!" She was losing patience with him and that would mean losing the moment for windows of empathy for him that didn't open that often. "My God, Theo, when will you learn to shut up when you’ve said enough?"

"I'm sorry."

"I want you over the knee, tonight."

"Over the what?"

"You heard. Now do it before I change my mind."

"Yes, Nanny." Teddy got up and at first hovered in front of her. He was - of course - quite erect and quite impressive, smelling of the baby lotion she encouraged him to use. His face was flushed, shy and awkward, like she remembered from their formative days when he first stood naked in front of her, nervous and shy; in awe and feeling completely inadequate; which of course he had been. Time and time again.
“Let Nanny look at you-" she ordered. He was no longer skinny but due to her strict regime of diet and exercise, she had physically moulded Teddy into good shape for his age. It had won a significant amount of the electorate in the last election. He had discipline, authority and Leadership written all over his physique and looked good in open neck shirts, shaking hands and talking with the Press with hardly a stutter.

"Well don't stand there like an idiot," she ordered. "Over my knee, now!" And abandoning the spatula she would normally use, Nanny Burling spanked her husband with her bare hand until she was consumed by all the emotions from the past day, week, months, years maybe. Until, with her hand and his buttocks raw, Teddy- under Nanny's strict supervision, of course - was directed to his bed to pleasure himself. Alcohol, however, meant that he struggled, causing Nanny to curse him out again and smack his fumbling fist out of the way. “Here!” Give it to me! Such a useless lump, even Nanny has to do this for you.” And employing the use of her pristine white gloves, one pinning him to the bed by the chest, she pumped away, eyes fixed on him over the rim of her glasses, her countenance fixed in the sternest look of disapproval as his semen was spent over the bed sheets, exploding indiscriminately like it had done all those years ago when as a fledgling foetus inside her it had poured back out from her womb mixed with her blood and she was never able to conceive again.

Then they both wept before she peeled off the white gloves and left him to clean up his mess, finally retiring to the sanctuary of her own room. With her own things. With her own thoughts. First thing in the morning, she would have to edit that Commons speech of his.

THE END

Bluesboy61


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