14 comments/ 33549 views/ 0 favorites Meeting the Dragon By: Adrian69702006 "We're almost there now." Anne guided her car expertly through the lanes of the sleepy Norfolk village where she'd grown up and learnt the joys of country life. Brian, sitting quietly in the passenger seat, felt distinctly nervous -- a fact betrayed by his sweaty palms. They'd met at university in Cambridge some weeks earlier and now he anticipated with quiet dread the fate of most boyfriends -- meeting the parents. They turned down a long driveway lined with majestic elm trees and Anne brought her car to a halt outside a well built Georgian house which looked as though it had been sympathetically altered at some point. Although not a country house in the 'stately home' sense of that term, it was still considerably larger than the average middle class village home, not that there was anything remotely middle class about Anne's family, despite her attempts to downplay the fact. Brian's nervousness hadn't escaped Anne's notice and she turned to him with what she hoped were words of reassurance but which, unfortunately phrased, were less reassuring than the intention behind them. "Brian, I know you don't like dogs and I promise you there aren't any -- well not of the canine variety at least. Daddy's fine when he's at home but there's an odds-on chance he won't be. You will, however, have to meet the dragon so I hope you're feeling brave." A look of panic crossed Brian's face and a spurt of pee involuntarily escaped into his underpants. "The dragon?" Anne chuckled. "My mother, silly. What did you think I meant? She may come across as a rather formidable lady and she is but, trust me, her bark's worse than her bite." Not altogether put at his ease by that statement, Brian timidly followed Anne as she got out of the car and made her way to the front door, opening it without even bothering to knock. "It's me. I'm home!" Brian half expected a butler to appear in the hallway but instead a middle aged woman with silver rimmed spectacles and greying hair, emerged from a side room. Gaunt and angular, she had a severe look about her, the sort of look that wouldn't seem out of place in an old fashioned headmistress. "So you're here at last. You do know I was expecting you over an hour ago. It's just as well I've done salad for supper." Unflinching, and not one to be talked down to, Anne was ready with a response to match the severe sounding lady's words. "Mother, when was the last time you drove through the Norwich rush hour on a Friday evening?" The lady frowned and lowered her spectacles as she did so. "Anne, how many times have I told you that you don't need to go through Norwich? There are quicker routes from Cambridge to here for goodness sake." Anne squared up to her mother. "Perhaps there are but that's the one I know. I'm not risking getting lost, least of all when I've got someone with me. Anyhow, allow me to introduce you to Brian if you will. Brian, this is Elizabeth Glenning, my mother. Mother, this is Brian Timpson." Anne's mother extended a hand to Brian which felt every bit as cold as its owner. "How do you do, Brian?" Not quite sure of the protocol, Brian replied in kind. "How do you do, Mrs Glenning?" Shaking his hand, she gave him a somewhat strange smile. "My daughter likes to downplay our family's status, but I am entitled to be styled the Lady Glenning. However you may call me Mrs Glenning. That is a privilege, young man, and one I hope you won't forget." "Of course not, Mrs Glenning." "Good. Just so long as we understand one another. Come in, the dining room's this way." Brian was led into a spacious, well-lit room, the centrepiece of which was a large oval table laden with salad, new potatoes, and a whole poached salmon. To one side a bottle of Chardonnay sat chilling in an ice bucket. Cream candles flickered in silver candlesticks which, in turn, gleamed in the evening sun. Imposing French windows afforded a view of immaculately trimmed lawns and formal gardens which stretched as far as the eye could see. Guiding Brian to a chair, Mrs Glenning continued speaking on what to him sounded like a slightly affected upper class accent, but which was no doubt genuine. It reminded him a little of how the Queen spoke during her Christmas broadcasts. "My daughter's told me a little about you but we've not had the opportunity to discuss your dietary needs and I didn't know whether you were vegetarian or not, so I decided salmon would be a safe option." Taking his seat as he was bidden, Brian smiled at Mrs Glenning, hoping that a smile would help to thaw the iciness of her mood. "Salmon will be fine. In fact it's my favourite fish. Rest assured I'm not vegetarian though." Unsmiling, Elizabeth Glenning proffered the salad to Brian. "Well at least that's a small mercy for which I imagine I ought to be grateful. Young people are so strange nowadays. My daughter barely tells me anything and it was only by chance I even discovered that she'd even got a boyfriend." Turning to her mother, Anne interjected. "Mother that's hardly fair. It's not as though you're even interested in what I'm doing or ever want to hold a proper conversation. Anyway, where's Daddy?" Elizabeth took a deep breath before answering her daughter. "Anne, I wish you wouldn't be so childish, particularly when we have a visitor. You know very well that I take a keen interest in your well-being. I also wish you wouldn't use that infantile expression to describe your father! If you must know your father's supposedly at a Law Society conference in London but I expect your guess as to his true whereabouts is probably as good as mine." "You mean somewhere in Brewer Street?" Elizabeth gave her daughter a black look. "Anne! Do you have to be so indelicate? We have a guest in our midst, your guest in fact, and I'll thank you to remember that." "Mother, I was only articulating what we were both thinking. You know very well Daddy...." "Stop it right now young lady! This is most embarrassing. I'm quite sure your guest doesn't wish to know about your father's private life." "Very well. Where's Julie?" "Your sister's out." "Oh yes, and we all know what that means, don't we? She could at least have had the courtesy to grace us with her presence this evening. Still, I expect she's getting her meat and two veg off Keith at the Five Bells." Elizabeth glared at her daughter. "Anne Glenning, I'm warning you. I've had quite enough of this innuendo for one evening. If you can't manage some pretence of keeping your conversation clean I shall be asking you to leave the table." Anne threw her napkin on the table and got up. "Don't worry, Mother. I'm going for a shit if you must know. I've not had one since Tuesday so it's about due." Elizabeth gave Anne her blackest look yet. "I don't want or need to know about your bowel habits and I'm quite sure your guest most certainly doesn't. I don't know what's got into you just lately but I would imagine it's down to having too much freedom at that university. I would be obliged if you didn't rejoin us until you're in a better frame of mind and have recovered a proper control of your tongue." Anne stormed out of the room, leaving Elizabeth and Brian to complete their meal. Elizabeth reached for the Chardonnay and topped up Brian's glass. "I can only apologise for my daughter's behaviour. She can be so unbelievably childish at times and much though I love her as a daughter, she drives me to distraction sometimes." "It's alright, Mrs Glenning. As a matter of fact Anne's shown me nothing but kindness since we first met." Elizabeth gave a wry smile. "I'm sure she has. Anyhow, it's a pleasure to welcome you to our humble abode. Historically the family seat was the manor house but when Anne's grandfather, the Ninth Baronet, died it had to be sold in order to meet the death dues. Wretched business if you ask me. Such a humiliation for the family. Anyhow, it's now in the hands of the National Trust and you can look round it for a fee if you so wish." Brian's eyes opened wide. "Is Anne's father a Baronet then?" "Yes, he's the Tenth Baronet." "She never mentioned anything about that, Mrs Glenning." "No, she wouldn't. So far as she's concerned Bart rhymes with another word which I hesitate to repeat, and she's not in the least bit interested in the family's position, silly girl that she is. Maybe it would be different if she had a brother to inherit the title but, as things stand, there's no male heir and, in consequence, Anne's father will be the last Baronet. He prefers to be known as the Major anyway. When you meet him, as you will in the course of time, you're to address him as 'Sir' at all times." "So he's an army man then?" "Yes, ex-army but it's a long time ago and nowadays he prefers not to discuss it. He's since carved out a very good career in the legal profession and we were both very proud when he took the silk?" "Silk?" Brian looked and sounded as puzzled as he was. "Yes dear. He's a Q C -- Queen's Counsel that is." There was a faint note of that weariness in Elizabeth's voice, redolent of a teacher trying to explain a very simple equation to one of her less remarkable students. "Oh. I see." "Good. Perhaps you'd like to tell me a little about what you're studying and your career plans, Brian." "I'm doing an engineering degree and my career choice when I make it, will necessarily reflect that. There are a number of options open to me and I've not made any firm decision yet as to which one I'll be pursuing." Elizabeth gave him a hard stare. "Perhaps you should. Once you've graduated you'll have responsibilities and the world will expect you to pay your way. I imagine this engineering degree will be a Bachelor of Science, won't it?" Brian faced his hostess, trying not to look smug. "No Mrs Glenning. Bachelor of Arts. Cambridge University doesn't award Bachelor of Science -- at least it hasn't done yet to my knowledge -- and I don't expect that to change any time soon." Elizabeth sipped her wine. "I see. Tell me, what does your father do for a living?" "He's the assistant manager of a Bank in Sheffield." Brian's hostess raised her eyebrows. "Only assistant manager?" Brian, not unnaturally, felt defensive. "It's a good position and he's worked his way up through the Bank to get it. Mrs Glenning, some may be born great but the rest of have to work at it. We all have to start somewhere." "Quite. Well at least it's good to know a little about my daughter's fiancé and his family, however modest their aspirations and attainments might be." Brian blanched. "Fiancé? I'd hate to think you were under a misapprehension Mrs Glenning but I don't think Anne and I have thought that far ahead yet." "Obviously not. Perhaps it's as well that I have then." Brian did his best to conceal the sense of panic he was beginning to experience, but it was a struggle. "I'm not sure that I understand, Mrs Glenning." "Well let me explain it to you. You're going to marry my daughter. You'll do the right thing by her and this family." Brian looked anxiously at his hostess. Regal though her style was, she wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind as a future mother. However good manners and fear of what might happen if he offended her prevented him from being as frank as he'd have liked. "Mrs Glenning, I love Anne very dearly and, trust me, I'll always do right by her, whatever that may involve at the time. I must point out though that we've not known each other for that long and, with respect, I think it's far too early to even consider what you're suggesting." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. Her reply was measured and precise. "Listen young man, delicacy has so far prevented me from stating the case with greater frankness, but I understand that you have a physical relationship with my daughter. Is that not correct?" Brian blanched. He was, to say the least, more than a little taken aback by Elizabeth's statement. "How do you know that?" "Anne told me. I don't believe it was her intention to do so but it came out during the course of a disagreement, a fact which might be considered unfortunate, but which cannot be ignored either." A puzzled look crossed Brian's face. "But Mrs Glenning, what's that got to with marriage?" "Everything, young man. Had it been Julie, my eldest daughter, I would not consider the matter to be of quite such gravity. Her heart's in the right place but she's hardly the brightest star in the universe and, to be frank, I think it would be fair to say that she's going nowhere fast. If she marries at all, and I have currently no reason to believe that she will, it will be beneath her station and that will be humiliation enough for the family. Anne, however, is a different matter. She's bright, beautiful, capable and, even if she doesn't work as hard as she should at university, has at least got what it takes to make something of her life. I know she likes to downplay this family's position and pretend she's not the daughter of a Baronet but, believe me, she's the nearest thing to a Princess that a middle class boy like yourself is ever likely to meet. Anne and I don't have the sort of enviable mother/daughter relationship that's taken for granted in some families. We're both far too stubborn for that and, more often than not, we fight like cat and dog. However I love her very dearly in my own way and my sole concern is what's best for her. Understand this, hurt my daughter and you'll have me to answer to." "But I don't see what this has got to with marriage. Lots of couples have sex nowadays without being steamrollered into marriage. It's 1982 for goodness sake." Elizabeth gave her guest a steely look. "Young man, the working classes may please themselves and openly live by the Sixties morals if they so choose. I don't doubt that some of them do. However those of us whom providence has placed in positions of honour have a duty to lead by example. We have to conduct ourselves in a respectable fashion and, if the frailties of human nature prevent that, then at least maintain the illusion of respectability." Brian almost felt stifled by what his hostess was saying. It was as though she cared about nothing but her family's honour and position. "Mrs Glenning, does Anne know about this? I mean what if she doesn't want to marry me? We've both still got two years of study ahead of us for a start and, as you've admitted yourself, she doesn't exactly care about being the daughter of a Baronet." "Anne will be told about this later and, trust me, she will do as she's told. I have no doubt that she might cry, throw a tantrum and shower me with obscenities. I'm prepared for that and will deal with it. Of course she doesn't care about our family's position but I do. I would prefer it if she married into her own class but the need to maintain honour and decency has ruled that out. You may be from the middle classes but you'll do. I really wouldn't worry about your education either. It will take well over two years to organise a society wedding and, trust me, it won't take place until well after you've both graduated. Meanwhile, if you're to continue having a physical relationship with my daughter you're to wear something at all times and you're to ensure that she takes contraceptive medication, not that I won't be speaking to her about that because, trust me, I will. You may have been lucky so far but, if you don't take the proper precautions you've only got to be unlucky once. If you get my daughter pregnant out of wedlock I'll make certain you pay for it. Do you understand me?" "Yes Mrs Glenning, but I'm not surely either of us are ready for marriage yet though. It's not as if..." Elizabeth's eyed narrowed as she cut him short. "But nothing, young man. You will marry my daughter and that's final. You will propose and she will accept. You will go through the formalities of engagement and courtship. So far as Anne's father is concerned your proposal was a spontaneous one. He's nor to know the truth and neither is Julie, Anne's sister, when you get to meet her. Do you understand?" Brian looked nervously at his hostess. "Yes, Mrs Glenning." "Good. At least that's settled. So far as the formalities of the wedding itself are concerned , the 1928 Marriage Service will do. I have enough trouble getting Anne to obey me as it is and I very much doubt that she'll obey you at all. Fortunately the village church holds around four hundred and we should just about manage, even though the county will be there. It's not St Paul's but we'll do our best. " A look of alarm crossed Brian's face. "The county?" That earlier expression of a wearied teacher trying to explain a simple concept to a dim child, crossed Elizabeth's face yet again. "Yes dear. It means all the people of quality round about. Anyone and everyone of importance in Norfolk will be invited. A well connected family such as ours has no choice but to do that. There will, of course, be a limited number of seats reserved for your family -- no more than twenty or so though." "What?" "Yes. That's the deal. I won't say 'take it or leave it' because it's what's going to happen and I don't intend you having a choice in the matter. There will, however, be a wedding breakfast worthy of the occasion and you need not worry about the expense of a honeymoon as that will be paid for." "That's very kind Mrs Glenning, but you're saying Anne and I don't have a choice over whether, when and where we get married?" Elizabeth lowered her spectacles. "That is correct young man. Also, I appreciate that you have a physical relationship with my daughter at university and there's nothing I can do about that. However there'll be none of it in this house -- at least until you're married. You'll sleep in separate rooms and if I hear footsteps on the landing overnight I will investigate, trust me." Brian looked anxiously at his hostess. "What if I need the bathroom at night? I don't wet the bed -- well not generally -- but I normally have to get up at least once." Elizabeth smiled. "Your room's an en suite. All the guest rooms are." Brian breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Mrs Glenning." "Good. I'm glad that's settled. My daughter will be back soon from Farmer Appleyard's and you're to behave as though we've not had this conversation." A puzzled look crossed Brian's face. "But I thought she'd gone to the bathroom?" Elizabeth's stern features relaxed and she allowed herself a chuckle. "What, my daughter use the bathroom? I don't think so. No, she has an arrangement with Farmer Appleyard, one of our tenants. When she's at home she keeps him supplied with manure. He absolutely loves her and no doubt they've been busy putting the world to rights whilst she's regaled him with tales of university life. She's not his only supplier by any means, I would add. There are a few cottages in the village where, even these days, sanitary arrangements are a little primitive. I do take care though to avoid buying his potatoes -- even though my daughter's played a part in their cultivation." Looking at what remained of the buttered new potatoes in their dish, Brian suddenly felt distinctly unwell. "Perhaps you could show me to my room. Mrs Glenning. It's been a long day." His hostess gave a knowing smile. "Of course." THE END Meeting the Dragon Ch. 02 Early morning Norfolk sunshine streamed through the curtains, waking Brian as it did so. It was the Spring Bank Holiday Monday at the last day of his stay with Anne's parents before heading back to Cambridge to resume his studies. One could say it had been an interesting weekend -- 'interesting' that is in the sense of the old Chinese proverb! Anne's mother, merciless and unsparing in her use of the acid tongue had been terrifying, in fact more than terrifying. He wasn't sure which was worse; what she said or the withering upper class way in which she said it. Her way with words certainly didn't lack ingenuity but, as a son to be, he wished she'd put it to a kindlier use. That he would incur Elizabeth Glenning's wrath today was scarcely in doubt. He'd woken up briefly three hours earlier, conscious of a warm wetness between his legs. Only an occasional bed-wetter, he'd assured Mrs Glenning upon his arrival on Friday that he'd didn't normally wet the bed. As it was, he'd wet the bed every night since -- much to her annoyance and his own embarrassment. Every night had been the same, the culmination of a dream in which he'd been desperate to pee and frantically searching for an all too elusive urinal. Anne hadn't helped particularly either. On both Saturday and Sunday she'd taken him on long sightseeing trips round Norfolk, plying him with drinks and not letting him go to the toilet. On Saturday night he'd been nearly pissing himself as she drove back from Cromer and had begun to spurt in his pants the moment they got back. It wasn't that she wanted to be cruel as such. Oh no, she just wanted to introduce him to the delights of holding. Not trained to hold beyond the three or four hours necessary for most people's convenience, Brian didn't understand Anne's fascination with pee holding and he certainly couldn't match the capabilities of her cavernous bladder. He had, however, been eager to please. Although it was strictly off limits in the parental home, she'd offered him the carrot of as much sex as he wanted once they got back to Cambridge and, with it, a promise to act out any fantasy he might have. With such an inducement on offer he'd been hard pressed to resist her demands. Moreover he'd obeyed Mrs Glenning's orders and dutifully proposed to Anne. She, just as dutifully, had accepted. No longer a mere boyfriend but her fiancé instead, he was now well and truly under the thumb. Still, whatever lingering doubts lurked in the back of his mind, Brian loved Anne deeply. In his view at least she was by far the prettiest girl in King's and could turn heads easily. Knowing she was in a nearby bedroom and yet unavailable to him under the parental roof, frustrated Brian enormously. Throwing back the duvet and ignoring the wetness of his sheets, Brian reached for his cock. He was completely naked and it was whilst nude that he loved to masturbate most. Five inches round but seven and a half long when flaccid, his penis could extend to nearly eleven inches when fully erect and he intended to take it to its full height as he fantasised about Anne and her promise of unlimited sex on their return to college. Stroking the shaft of his penis with all the gusto of the twenty year old that he was, Brian soon found himself hardening. Gasping and moaning with pleasure he quickly reached the point of no return and began to ejaculate, a large spurt of cum shooting from his swollen tail and landing on the bedclothes. As it spurted out there was a knock on the door and, before he had time to reply, in walked the formidable Mrs Glenning, Anne's mother. Embarrassed but unable to stop himself, Brian felt a sense of blind panic as a further spurt involuntarily shot out of his swollen member, this time missing the bedclothes and hitting Elizabeth Glenning's knee length skirt. Momentarily lost for speech, Brian's throat went dry and he could only begin to imagine how she might react. Her face, black as thunder, said it all though. Clearly she was not amused and neither was she lost for words either. "And what's the meaning of this?", she angrily demanded, fixing an icy glare on Brian's swollen penis, dripping with cum. Removing his hands from a sticky cock, Brian looked up at his hostess in a panic stricken daze. "I'm sorry Mrs Glenning." Elizabeth glared angrily at him. "Sorry? Sorry doesn't go near it. Of course you're not sorry. Not only do you affront my senses with the sorry spectacle of nudity but you abuse my hospitality by masturbating all over my clean sheets. It's a filthy, weak habit, that breeds feebleness of body and mind. When I was young they used to call it self abuse and quite right too. Necessary though it is, you needn't think it pleases me that my daughter's marrying a man who can't leave his penis alone, because it doesn't. I bet you love it more than you love her, don't you?" Rubbing cum from his hands and transferring it to his right thigh, Brian went on the defensive. "Mrs Glenning, I love Anne very much. It's just that I've always been told that wanking -- sorry masturbation -- is no big deal. I wasn't expecting you either." Elizabeth retrieved a tissue and wiped where Brian's cum had landed on her skirt, before throwing the spent tissue in the waste paper basket. "Obviously. I think we've established beyond doubt that you weren't expecting company. If you must know I came with the intention of enquiring whether or not you would like an early morning cup of tea but it looks to me as though there's enough fluid lurking in this room as it is. I see you've wet the bed yet again. That's every night you've spent here so far. I know my hearing isn't what it used to be, but I thought you assured me on your first evening here that you didn't habitually wet the bed. Honestly, we provide you with the best guest room in the house, with an en suite too, and this is how you repay our hospitality. It doesn't please me that my daughter's marrying a middle class boy, necessary though that is, but it pleases me even less that he's a bed-wetter." Blushing, Brian looked up at his hostess. "I'm really so sorry Mrs Glenning and I can't apologise enough. It's just that I keep getting this dream in which I'm really desperate for the loo. Eventually I find one and started peeing. It's then that I wake up and find I'm peeing the bed." A look of disbelief crossed Elizabeth's face and there was a note of scorn in her voice. "Hmm. That's exactly the sort of lame, silly excuse my daughter would come out with. Come on young man, we'll soon cure you of this." Taking Brian by the arm she hauled him off the bed and into the en suite bathroom. Closing the door behind them both, she looked at him coldly. "Right young man. Use that lavatory." Still blushing, Brian was as embarrassed as he was terrified. He felt he owed it to himself to protest. "But Mrs Glenning, can't I have any privacy? I'll use the loo if that's what you want, but I'm not used to an audience." Elizabeth gave him her sternest look yet. "I'd say privacy was the last thing you needed right now. You're going to relieve yourself young man and I'm going to watch you to make sure you do it properly. Oh, and in case you think delaying tactics will get rid of me, you're much mistaken. As it happens I'm in no hurry and if I have to stand here all morning and wait whilst you decide what to do with your penis, so be it. I relieved myself twenty minutes ago when I first got up so you needn't think I'm going to need that lavatory any time soon." Reluctantly Brian took hold of his penis, stood over the toilet and eventually started peeing. Although a little self conscious about his size, nobody could really call him pee shy as such. Having a woman stand over him and watch though was not the same thing as being unintentionally seen by other guys at a urinal. When it emerged though his stream was a strong long and it lasted for around forty five seconds before ending almost as abruptly as it had started. Through the corner of his eye he noticed that Elizabeth's hand was up her skirt and, although he couldn't be certain for sure, it was impossible to avoid the suspicion that she was fingering herself -- masturbating -- the solitary vice upon whose evils she'd just lectured him. Under the circumstances he felt it right to raise a note of protest. After all, what gave her the right to lecture him on the supposed evils of masturbation, only to indulge in it before his very eyes? "Mrs Glenning, do you mind?" Elizabeth quickly withdrew her hand, pretending to dust herself down. It was obvious that she was embarrassed. Her stare though remained an icy one. "This is not about me, young man. It's about you. Now turn and face me if you will." Not daring to do other than he was told, Brian obediently turned and faced Elizabeth. Her air was one of calm but decisive authority. "Now young man, I imagine my daughter's promised you all sorts of sexual favours the moment you both get back to university. Well, we'll see about that. At least for a day or two." Elizabeth stooped down, grabbed Brian's penis and, taking the head in her mouth, began to suck. Not expecting anything of the sort, Brian was initially a little taken aback. However as her rhythm developed, he found himself enjoying the sensation. Gradually she worked her way further down the shaft, taking more of his swollen, sticky member into her mouth. Her tongue and lips worked deftly on his swollen penis until he could control himself no longer and began to cum. Elizabeth greedily swallowed the warm, white sticky liquid as Brian erupted before gasping from sheer relief. Taking care to lick the head, she deftly removed his penis from her mouth and smacked her lips. "I think that should take care of you -- for a day or two anyway. I hope you enjoyed it." "Well it was unexpected but, yes, I did." "Good. Now under no circumstances must my daughter ever get to hear about what's taken place between us. In return for your discretion I'll overlook the wet bed and the nude masturbation. Remind me to invest in some waterproof sheets and a mattress protector ahead of your next visit. I expect you'll need a shower and I'm leaving you to it." With that she left the confines of the en suite, closing the door behind her. Turning to the shower, Brian contemplated the situation. It had been wholly unexpected but he'd actually enjoyed the experience of oral sex with a dominant woman who knew not only what she wanted but how to keep him in his place too. Perhaps it was the vulnerability he'd experienced -- of someone else being in control and taking the decisions -- maybe he wasn't sure. However, as he switched the shower on, Brian hoped that one day he'd experience again the oral sex which he'd often heard talked about but, until this morning, not experienced for himself. It was an experience he definitely wanted to repeat -- one day. THE END