Many thanks to Pixie for her corrections, her excellent advices and her availability.
Well... I watched episode six of season six again, and anyway... Seeing Carson with his walking stick, and Elsie asking him if he's going to use it to hit someone, inspired this story. And I'm almost sorry and a little bit ashamed ^^
It's an M rated story for a reason, there's an explicit sex scene involving a dominant and a submissive. But above all, a lot of love, tenderness and sweetness
Walking stick
1925
"Elsie?"
"Yes? "
"Do you know where my walking stick is?"
Oh my God, not his walking stick!
"No Charlie... "
"It's crazy, I used it last week at the Abbey open day. I couldn't have lost it though. I was sure I brought it here."
She could hear him rummaging around their room, moving furniture and grumbling. She didn't want him to find it, that walking stick, she didn't want to see her husband with it too often, it gave her bad thoughts that she was ashamed to even confess to the priest.
So no, there was no question of him finding his walking stick. She had hidden it. She had brought it back to the Abbey. It had been no mean feat, the stick was difficult to hide. She had waited until Charles was busy in the wine cellar with Thomas before rushing back to their cottage, retrieving the cane, and heading back the other way, hoping not to meet anyone on the way. She didn't want to have to justify why or how she was holding a cane, and most of all, she didn't want Charlie to find out.
She had arrived at the Abbey out of breath and passed quickly through the basement corridors. Mrs. Patmore had tried to talk to her, but Elsie had answered her calls with a:
"Not now!"
She had climbed upstairs without taking time to catch her breath until she reached her old room which had not been reallocated. There she had finally been able to hide her husband's walking stick, which had been causing her much torment.
She then needed to sit on her old bed, whose mattress was bare, to catch her breath, finally.
No, really, that walking stick was far too disturbing for her, and that cane in her husband's hands was giving her ideas that were too daring to consider without blushing. Besides, after the open house, when they had ended up at home, she had not given him much time to rest. He'd barely gotten into his pajamas before she'd jumped on him, her head full of fantasies of him holding his walking stick as he'd walked over to her and spanked her and... lots of other things. She had kissed him as if her life depended on it, and without waiting had pulled down his trousers so that she could stroke him so that he was ready for her, then pushed him onto the bed, removed her nightgown and straddled him until they both came.
While Charles had not complained and seemed quite happy that his wife was taking this kind of initiative, he had asked her what had got her into this state. She had been too ashamed to tell him that it was him and his bloody walking stick in his hands. She'd just blushed, told him she'd enjoyed the busy day and working with him in a hurry had put her in a bit of a tizzy. He had raised his thick eyebrows in astonishment, then smiled at her before placing a kiss on her lips. He had caressed her cheek, telling her that he loved her and was very pleased that his wife was so happy in her work, and that he could ask Lord Grantham to reopen the house to the public if it made her feel that way. She had laughed and told him that they might not survive it. Then they wished each other a good night and fell asleep in each other's arms.
That same night she had dreamt of him grabbing her from behind roughly and whipping her with his stick as he pulled on a chain that was attached to the necklace she was wearing. It was Charles who had woken her up because she was moaning and squirming in the sheets. He thought she was having a nightmare, while she was cumming.
And ever since that cursed day, her fantasies never left her. And since Charles brought out that stupid cane whenever they went for a walk together, she couldn't take it anymore. She had thought of talking to him openly about it, telling him everything she wanted to say, but she was convinced that he would have been so shocked by her words that he would not have wanted to share his bed with her. And as she liked being close to him, she had made up her mind not to tell him anything.
Now that the object of the crime was hidden, she could perhaps calm herself and calm her ardour. She had wondered, even hoped, that Charles might be content with a simple, very platonic relationship, a roommate between best friends... How stupid she felt now to have doubted his desire for her, or the desire she might feel for her husband. She had learned that she liked to sleep with him. And even if they weren't very daring, the tenderness, the love, the complicity, that united them made the sexual act quite incredible. And now, for some time, since that open day, she had been dreaming of him being much more dominant with his stick... And she was ashamed of it.
"Oh how ridiculous you are" she thought aloud.
"Are you talking to me?"
"No Charles, I was thinking out loud. Are you ready? We're going to be late. "
"What? But why didn't you tell me what time it was? Oh, for God's sake."
"Well, if you hadn't wasted so much time looking for your walking stick, you'd be on time."
He went down the stairs as fast as he could. Elsie was already waiting for him and handed him his jacket and hat.
They walked to the Abbey. With her hand at her husband's arm, she listened to him grumble about the loss of his cane, which was beginning to irritate her.
"Look, darling, it's only a walking stick. You don't even need it to walk... tttt I know, you're going to tell me it looks distinguished, but at your age it looks rather old. No really, it's better that you don't have one anymore, you're too robust to use a cane.
She saw him out of the corner of her eye, puffing out his chest, and rolled her eyes. Charles was easy enough to please if you knew how to flatter him. After all, Mrs Patmore was not wrong when she said she had him wrapped round her little finger.
They arrived just in time for breakfast, and the day began in a studious mood.
When the evening meal was announced, everyone was already at the table. They had all worked hard and were looking forward to eating and finishing the evening in peace.
As they ate their dinner, Elsie was in a good mood. Charles, sitting next to her at the end of the table, seemed to notice her and took the opportunity to press his leg against hers. She responded by wrapping her foot around his calf, and pretending to take his napkin from his lap, reached under the table to stroke his thigh equivocally. No, really, there was no age limit to enjoying this sort of thing.
"Mr. Carson, look what I found when I was cleaning out the attic rooms!"
It was Gertie, the kitchen girl who was in charge of lighting the chimney fires and maintaining the servants' quarters, who proudly brandished Charles' walking stick.
Elsie immediately let go of her husband's thigh. He leapt to his feet, forcing the whole table to do the same, and almost lovingly grabbed his walking stick.
Elsie felt herself blush as very daring images flooded her mind and excitement took control of her body. Her hands and legs tied to the bed, naked, him on top of her, passing the pommel of his cane between her breasts and telling her he was going to fu...
Not now, damn it, she thought.
Charles thanked the young servant warmly, and asked her where she had found it.
"Oh in Mrs. Hughes' old room, I was pulling the wardrobe out to dust when it fell, I suppose it had slid back there, Mr. Carson."
He turned abruptly, questioning his wife with his eyes, but she refused to make eye contact and just stirred her stew. He dismissed Gertie, sat down at the end of the table and leaned over to Elsie to whisper:
"You know I'm going to ask you to explain, don't you? "
"Yes, but not now, please Charlie," she replied, sounding more desperate than she would have liked.
God help me, I don't know what to do, when he's got that bossy voice and that thing in his hands...
She wanted to run away as far as possible or have magic powers to make her husband lose his memory. She felt like she was done for, tonight she would kill her marriage and this beautiful husband and wife relationship they had managed to build in such a short time. She was going to have to tell him the truth, and he would be disgusted, shocked, he would think she was just a whore. She couldn't stay in the servants' hall any longer. Ashamed, she stood up abruptly without giving the men time to get up after her and went to lock herself in her study.
Charles was puzzled, why did she need to hide his cane? If she really wanted him to get rid of it she would have thrown it in the lake and no one would have found it. No, here she had simply hidden it.
Finally, when all the day's work was done and the family no longer needed him, Charles knocked on the door of the housekeeper's office and entered without waiting.
"Let's go in, it's been a long day and... quite surprising..."
He paused, looking at his wife.
"Elsie? Is everything all right?"
He hadn't paid much attention to her when he'd walked into her little living room uninvited, he'd just wanted to go home, to lie down with his wife in his arms while she explained why she'd been playing hide-and-seek with something of his. But when he had looked up, he had seen her slumped over her work table as she slapped her forehead with her palms and called herself an idiot, mumbling something like:
"Idiot, you should have thrown it away, you're just an idiot!"
He really had trouble understanding his wife. He approached her, clearing his throat to remind her of his presence, she finally jumped and looked up at him. He had already put on his coat, gloves and hat, and the knob of the cane was warm at his elbow. She moaned, in anger and excitement. And Charles still didn't understand.
"You really want to take it home, don't you? "
"Well yes, and please when we get home explain to me why my walking stick is causing you so much upset."
She had no choice. Resigned, she went to her coat rack and Charles helped her put on her jacket. Then she put on her gloves and hat, and they walked out into the cool night air.
The journey home was silent, each of them lost in thought. When they arrived at the cottage, they prepared for the night without exchanging a word. Charles was careful to tuck his walking stick under his jacket to hide it from Elsie. He watched her as quietly as possible as she continued to mumble and shake her head for no reason.
Finally, when they were dressed for the night, Charles slipped under the covers and waited for his wife to join him. But she had been in the bathroom for ten minutes and didn't seem to be in any hurry to come out.
"Elsie? Are you going to sleep in there? "
"No... I... Okay, I'll be right there," she replied after a few seconds of silence.
She came out of the bathroom and Charles looked at her. He thought she was beautiful, and since they were married, he had the privilege of seeing her, either simply dressed in a loose-fitting nightgown with thin straps and rather low-cut, or simply naked and he couldn't get enough of it, he would never get enough of it.
They had only been married a few months, and were still in a transitional period of learning to live together while enjoying each other. And he knew he was definitely addicted to his wife, to her body, to her smell, to her moans of pleasure, to her unconscious smile after sex, to her messy hair in the morning when she hadn't taken the time to braid it... He sighed with happiness. Elsie lay down beside him, pulled the covers up under her chin, which was a sign that she wanted to do nothing but sleep, so he turned to her bedside and turned off the little lamp that was on it. They were now in near darkness, only the embers of the fireplace giving off a soft, warm light. Elsie felt herself slowly drifting off to sleep, but she heard Charles sigh and turn towards her.
"Elsie, are you sleeping?"
Oh how she wanted to not answer him, to just let him think that yes, she was sound asleep, so this was not the time to have a discussion, but...
"No, Charlie, I'm not sleeping."
"Would you mind explaining this whole thing with my walking stick? "
"Honestly, I'd rather not... "
"But why? Unless you committed a crime with it, I don't see why you hate it so much. And why didn't you part with it instead of hiding it? "
"Oh, Charles... It's difficult to explain, and if I tell you, I think you... I don't want to disappoint you."
"Disappoint me? I mean, what is this about? "
"I... Oh I can't!"
She turned her back to him so that he couldn't see her. Even in the darkness she had the impression that her blush could light up the whole room.
He gave her a few minutes' peace, but then he came back to her. He was determined that she should tell him what the problem was. It couldn't be that bad, for God's sake, it was just a bloody walking stick. Charles wasn't known to be a very patient man, he was learning to take it in his stride when he was alone with Elsie, but here his patience was beginning to wear thin.
"Elsie, tell me you didn't kill anyone with that cane?" He heard her chuckle which was a pretty good sign.
"You can be so stupid sometimes. No, I didn't kill anyone."
But now that I think about it I should have knocked myself out with ...
"Well, since you are innocent, you have nothing to fear. So you stop being childish and tell me what's wrong, because I'm slowly losing my patience Elsie, and I'm determined not to let you go until you tell me clearly what your problem is with my stick!"
She swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. She had to tell him. At worst he would ask her to leave their bed and she would go back to Downton to spend her nights there until he calmed down. But she was filled with shame.
"All right Charlie, I'll tell you...Fine...I don't hate your walking stick".
"You don't hate it? "
"No. I don't hate it at all, it's... quite the opposite."
"You mean you love my walking stick?"
"That's it."
"Right. And what's the problem? Did you want to keep it for yourself? Elsie, if you want one, I'll give you dozens."
"But no... I mean I really like your walking stick. Well, not your walking stick, no. I mean, I really like seeing you with it, and it makes me... Oh, my God, I can't do this anymore. "
"Wait, are you saying that you find me particularly attractive when I use my walking stick and that's why you wanted me to get rid of it? There's no logic... "
"Oh but, no one ever said there had to be logic in fantasies!"
She closed her eyes, wishing she had never uttered that last sentence.
"Fantasies? Elsie, are you fantasising about my walking stick?" When she didn't answer, he huffed in exasperation, turned once more to his bedside to shine his little lamp.
"Elsie, please don't pretend to be asleep. I think this conversation is taking a most interesting turn."
"Oh stop laughing at me Charles, I'm ashamed enough without you having to add to it... "
"I'm not making fun of you at all, my love. So tell me, what do my walking stick and I have to do with your fantasies?" He had subtly moved closer to her until he had his body pressed against her back, a perfect spoon, he thought.
"Will you stop it! I'm telling you that I'm embarrassed to tell you about it, that I feel ashamed and unworthy of you for having these thoughts, and you're making a joke of it. And turn off that damn light, I don't want you to see me!"
He didn't insist for the moment, he shifted off of her to go turn off the lights and got back on his back, not daring to get too close to her until she felt ready. He didn't have to wait long before she tried to explain:
"I'm sorry, Charlie. I just... I don't know if I have the right to want to do this, this way. And I'm ashamed to be excited about it. "
"Why shouldn't we be? We are husband and wife after all. And never, Elsie, never be ashamed of your desires, on the contrary, share them with me, I'm all ears on that subject."
"But we're married before God, Charlie! Oh God, I'm just a whore. "
"Take that word back right now, don't you dare insult my wife!"
He thought he was making her laugh, but he was wrong. He had to make her understand his way of seeing things.
"It saddens me that you think I might find you unworthy of me or that I might call you a... I don't want to say that word. I'll be seventy in a few months Elsie, who knows how long we have before my body gives out on me? A few months? A few years at best? And... I've wanted this for so long, with you my darling, I've wanted to make love to you for thirty years. Now I don't want to waste any more time, I can't afford it. So if you give me the opportunity to love you the way you want to... Listen to me, my love, knowing that you imagine me, that you think of me in this way, even when we do nothing, pleases me very much. I would even say that... um... it excites me."
He waited in the dark for a reaction from his wife, but as she didn't move, he concluded that she was listening carefully.
"I don't know what your fantasies are about, but... I want you to know that you don't have to feel embarrassed about dreaming about... well, about what you dream about. Most of all I want you to know that I would be more than happy to do with you whatever you want to do when you see me with my walking stick. And I think God wants married couples to be happy and fulfilled, you remember my vows in church 'with my body I worship you', so why don't you dare? "
"You don't know what you're talking about, if you did you wouldn't want to be in bed with me. "
"Oh I dare you to try and chase me out of our bed, my love, and you'll soon realise that not only do I want you in my bed all the time, but I might even like to do... what you want me to do."
She still wasn't moving, and he was getting a little excited imagining Elsie's fantasies. He had some ideas of what she was talking about, and he knew he wouldn't be bad. After all, dominating was part of his job and he had been doing it for almost fifty years. He approached his wife again, who still had her back to him, snuggled up to her so that she could feel the effect she was having on him, brought his mouth to her ear and whispered:
"I know what you want, Elsie, and yes you are a little minx because now I'm imagining us too, the same way."
She stretched against him, pressing her buttocks just a little bit more against his groin.
"You know, I've imagined you that way too. I often imagine you submitting to my desires, so I want you to be ready to obey me, to fulfill my wishes for my pleasure, and to see you take pleasure in it. Do you feel, Elsie, do you feel the effect it has on me?"
He pressed himself fully against her, hard and eager, and she allowed herself to moan.
"Yes Elsie, of course you know the effect you have on me."
He flipped her onto her back and positioned himself on top of her.
"If you want me to stop my love, all you have to do is say... let's see..." cranachan* "okay?"
She let out a slight laugh as she nodded and reached for him, spreading her thighs so that he was pressed against her.
"From now on, until I cum inside you, you will obey me. Tell me you want it, Elsie."
Oh god, her breath had quickened, she could already feel herself getting wet even though he hadn't touched her yet.
"Yes Charlie, oh yes I do."
Without further ado he removed her nightgown and told her not to move. He moved, just long enough to shine the lamp on Elsie's bedside and repositioned himself between her thighs without touching her. He hovered over her, thinking of what he could do to her. He wondered if he would have the power to make her beg for him to make her come, and the thought brought him to the height of his excitement.
He pulled away from her and he didn't miss the look of disappointment she gave him and it made him smile.
"Turn around," he ordered.
"What? But how..."
He didn't let her finish her sentence as he turned her over onto her stomach rather abruptly. She tried to protest again, but he got on top of her and bit her earlobe, which made her moan, before whispering:
"You obey or be punished, Elsie."
As she wisely remained still, he kissed her tenderly on the neck, just below her ear, in that place that he knew made her shiver and sigh.
"Perfect, my love."
He straddled her, just a little lower than her bottom, and took the time to look at her. It seemed to him that age had no hold on her, she was on her sixty-fourth birthday and she was simply perfect in his eyes. He had never really allowed himself to see her in this position, and the sight of her, of her buttocks, of her freckles that dotted her back, of her hair thrown to the side that revealed her perfect neck, made his blood run a little hotter. He sighed with desire, and began to touch her. He was barely touching her, but he could see and feel Elsie's skin awaken under his caresses, she had slight goose bumps and was breathing faster, he felt proud to see the effect he could have on her.
He moved to her ear again to whisper:
"Tell me my love, tell me these fantasies, tell me what I'm doing to you with my stick, what I'm telling you. Tell me my love."
She shook her head imperceptibly, and swallowed. She was already beginning to show herself rebellious, well he was going to have to make her docile.
"Oh Elsie, you're a little rascal aren't you? You want me to take control of you, of your pleasure. You want me to take you the way I want to without letting you breathe."
He ran a hand under her hips to touch her, and he grunted in appreciation when he felt his wife's excitement on his fingers.
"You're turned on by what I'm telling you, my tease. You want me to dominate you, to punish you, to..." He took a long breath, "You want me to fuck you. You're just a tease, say it Elsie."
He had stopped running his fingers over her vulva, he had returned to her buttocks, he was stroking them tenderly but when she refused to answer him again, he grunted and bit her right buttock. Oh not too hard, he was loath to hurt her, but hard enough to feel her arch against his mouth and hear her gasp in pain.
"Tell me, Elsie, tell me you're a minx and you deserve to be punished."
She still didn't answer, and she had hidden her head in her hands.
He then slapped her bottom, she let out an "ouch" followed by a moan as she arched her back against his hand, but she still did not respond.
He then gave her two more spanks, a little harder than the first and she screamed out a :
"MMMMM oooh YEEEESSS!"
Oh my god, the reactions she had. Charles was at the height of excitement, it was the first time he had enjoyed this kind of game, and he was obviously getting the hang of it fast. He wouldn't make the sweet torture last too long tonight, he needed to get off, but the next few times... He groaned as he imagined all the things he could do to her the next few times.
He got up to get naked and came back to sit on her, straddling her thighs.
"Yes, what, my love? Yes you submit or yes it's good?" He was now caressing her slightly reddened buttocks from his earlier treatment, ready to make her skin colour a little more if she didn't respond.
"Oh my god, Elsie, your skin blushes so easily under my hands... How much do you think your pretty little ass could take?"
And he spanked her six more times, three for each buttock, and he watched her body writhe in pleasure and pain, and Elsie clung to the sheet still moaning "yes, yes, oh yes Charlie".
He couldn't take it any longer, he had to take her now or he would end up coming miserably on her gorgeous buttocks, and although he enjoyed the idea of seeing the fruit of his orgasm smeared on his wife's bottom, he really needed to be inside her.
He turned her over on her back, spread her thighs and penetrated her without warning. He did nothing more, simply watching his wife. She looked at him with so much desire and love that he didn't know if he should continue their little game or simply make love to her gently as they had become accustomed to doing since their marriage. However, the memory of Elsie's reactions as he spanked her lovingly made him decide quickly. He managed to calm his breathing, and with his sex still buried in her, he leaned over to lick a nipple before saying:
"You still haven't answered me, Elsie. You're just a tease and you like me to punish you?" She gave him a desperate look that seemed to say, "Please don't make me say it."
But he was adamant and he took her breast in his mouth sucking and biting it at the same time, he was giving her a hickey here, on her nipple, and she knew she would ache tomorrow under her corset, and every rub would bring her back to that moment when he was deep inside her to the hilt, biting her lovingly, and it was good, so good. She could feel her orgasm building slowly, as he continued to abuse her right breast with his mouth while he pinched the other with his fingers. She couldn't take it anymore, he had to release her, he had to make her cum, his attentions weren't enough to tip her over. So she gave in to him:
"Oh yes... oh please Charlie!"
He looked up, letting her breast finally breathe:
"Yes what my love? "
"Yes, yes, I like it, yes punish me, yes I'm just a minx… Move my love, please move."
She arched against him, she wanted him to finally move, she had buried her hands in his hair to bring him closer against her breast, she wanted him to stop and continue at the same time, she wanted him to move.
He stayed a few more seconds nibbling on her breast, finishing his hickey, then still inside her, he got down on his knees, grabbed Elsie's legs to put them on his shoulders, leaned forward against her hands, making her raise her buttocks slightly and he finally moved, as hard as he could. The position was new to her and it felt so good. He took her deeper and harder at the same time, filling her and touching a whole bunch of nerves she didn't know existed until that moment, and her orgasm took her by surprise. She broke under her husband's powerful loins.
Her head was tilted back, her body arching and writhing as he still moved inside her. He could feel Elsie's pleasure pulsing as he took her wildly. Seeing her cum like this brought him to the edge himself but he didn't want to end it this way. He didn't wait for her to come down from her pleasure, he spread her thighs and laid all his weight on her. She wanted to hug him, to touch him, to kiss him, but he took her hands, and while squeezing them firmly he brought them above her head to immobilize her.
He had slowed down the pace, enjoying a few moments of this sweet heat, but he wanted to please her again, to see her unravel under him one last time before he succumbed in turn.
He quickened his pace, his mouth against his wife's ear to better whisper to her:
"Next time, my love, I want you tied to the bars of our bed, I want you tied, legs spread and I want you offered, ready to take my orders and satisfy me. Next time I want you on all fours, begging me to take you, like the good little bitch that you are, I'll have my walking stick at hand to give you everything you deserve...Next time...Oh my God Elsie!"
She came again. To hear him say such raw, daring things to her had done her in. With her hands immobilized by his grip, she let her orgasm take over as he hit those sensitive spots inside her again and again, and she couldn't hear herself, but she screamed. She screamed his name, called out to God, swore and moved, undulating her body to continue the delicious friction that was giving her ecstasy.
Charles watched her cum once more, and this was the time too much for him. His orgasm took him in turn and he came, pouring into her with a hoarse moan. He moved a little more to prolong the pleasure, then he lowered himself on her as gently as possible, always careful not to hurt her. Finally, he released her hands and kissed her tenderly. She clung to him, still anchored in her, encircled his hips with her thighs, and he could still feel the contractions that still agitated her. She responded to his kiss feverishly and moaned against his mouth as their tongues caressed.
He finally withdrew from her, before her sex became too sensitive, and lay on his back, opening his arms for Elsie to come and rest her head on him, which she did with pleasure.
They cuddled for a few minutes, now enjoying the tenderness between them.
"Elsie? How are you feeling? "
"Very well my love. Although... Oh this is stupid. "
"Did I hurt you?"
He looked really worried.
"No, darling, you haven't hurt me at all. It's just that I don't know if I'll be able to concentrate on my work tomorrow. This..., this new way of uniting us! God, Charlie, it'll haunt me all day."
"Will it?"
He couldn't help but feel a surge of very masculine pride, he wasn't so bad for an old man of almost seventy after all.
He tightened his grip on his wife's hip, and kissed her hair.
"Tomorrow I want you to think of us and that wonderful walking stick I'll use on you the next time I make love to you. I will think of you all day too, of your beauty, of your body fitting mine, of your eyes crinkling with pleasure, of you cumming underneath me, of your sex contracting with the orgasm I give you, of your sweetness and strength. Tomorrow I'll think about what we just did and I'll want to make you come again and again. I love you so much Elsie."
"Oh you don't have to ask me to think about you, I couldn't do otherwise. You've marked me and that's going to follow me for a few days."
She took his left hand, which he had put behind his head, and placed it on the breast he had bitten. He looked at her ashamed. The hickey was clearly visible now, and the areola was sensitive. He stroked her there for a few seconds and whispered that he was sorry, but she stopped him.
"No, don't apologise. I liked... I like having your mark on me, I like the idea that tomorrow, every move I make, I'll still feel your mouth on me, right here. And I'll think about what we just did and I'll have to struggle not to stop my work to find you and ask you to take me in a second. The effect you have on me Charlie when you talk to me like you did, when you bite me or spank me... Hell I could do it again right now if my old body wasn't begging for rest."
"You really are a little minx, Elsie, you know that? And as God is my witness, I love that about you!"
He laughed softly, before lifting her up to kiss her fully. She pulled away from him as she needed to wash herself, Charlie's seed was leaking out of her and she felt uncomfortable.
When she returned he was fighting sleep, but he had been waiting for her to slip back into his arms.
"I love you Charlie."
"More than my walking stick? "
"You're an idiot! Sleep now."
oOo
FIN
*cranachan is a Scottish pastry
oOo
clears his throat and comes out of hiding :
Sooooo…I didn't traumatize you too much? I wasn't sure I was going to publish this story at all.
But in all honesty, I had so much fun writing it.
Reviews are always more than welcome.