Cock And Ball Torture Acting On Impulse
10 March 2008
But here again our money problems hit me. Only last week my beloved Laurence failed his MOT. Laurence is the name of my big old Land Rover truck. I’ve had it since I was twenty-one. It’s slow, noisy, thirsty, drafty, but has never let me down in all the twelve years I’ve owned it. When I’m driving it; I sit up there so high, and feel so safe. And the MOT he just failed? Well in England to get your annual road tax, if your vehicle is over three years old, it needs a road worthiness test in a garage, we call it an MOT. Well my Laurence failed; so no MOT, no tax. No tax means you’re not insured. And any one of the three things means you can’t take it on the road. We couldn’t afford to have the garage fix the car, so Roger was going to get one of his friends to look at it for me. But this was something else he hadn’t done.“No, sorry that’s not for you.”“I hope you don’t mind me saying, if the prunes we had for school dinners had been like you, then we’d have all been going back for second helpings.”I nearly jumped out of my skin as the shop owner spoke from directly behind me.“But what are the costumes like?”“You can’t be serious?”“So that wasn’t a genuine offer when you said you wanted to make it up to Les?”“We’re going around in circles my dear. It’s quite simple. Are you going to let me take the shot, or are we leaving?”My heart sank, I’d been in such a state, I hadn’t even missed the bloody handbag. With all the rushing to get dressed and out of the cubicle, I must have left it hanging on the peg in there. What the hell could I do now?I hauled myself from the tub, and put on a bath robe, then made my way down the stairs. My stomach was full of butterflies, as I opened the door.“I am really sorry.”“Oh yes. Oh its ok, I’d been in there too long, I was turning into a prune.”“Hello.”All of my stories include descriptions of sex scenes that could cause offence to some people. Please do not read this story if you are offended by perverse sexual material, or if you are under the legal age of consent for your own country. These stories are pure fiction and are not based on anyone living or deceased.“Ok my dear we’ve got your address, it’ll take us about thirty minutes, that’s time for you to have a shower, and get yourself in the right frame of mind.”My name is Sandra but everybody calls me Sandi, I’m thirty-three years old and have been married to Roger for twelve years. I’ve always had a well paid job, earning nearly double Roger’s wage. But we just had our first child three months ago, a gorgeous little girl called Rebecca, and I gave up working to look after her. But this has drastically reduced our combined income. This didn’t hit us at first, but now its getting on for six months since my last pay cheque, and things are getting tight.
