Part 3: Margaret’s Story

After we had rested for a bit and Darren’s pee had drained out of my shoes we walked slowly back to the B&B. I was very sticky with cum oozing down my thighs almost to my knees by the time we arrived.

Margaret was in the kitchen and immediately put the kettle on while asking. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

I said. “Yes please.”

Margaret beckoned us to sit at the table. I sat carefully to try and avoid getting cum on my dress, I knew it was inevitable I would be getting quite a lot on the chair!

Margaret made the tea in a big pot which she placed in the middle of the table and sat down with us while the tea brewed.

“Did you have a nice day?” Margaret asked.

“Oh yes.” I said. “We walked across the bay and went to the pub on top of the cliff. The beach is beautiful.”

“Yes it is.” Said Margaret. “That must have been ‘The Quantock Dog’. It is lovely pub with such a nice outlook. They make the best pasties there. When my husband was alive we would often go there for lunch in the winter when the farm was not so busy. It is funny, now I am on my own and the farm has gone I am busier than ever and just don’t have the time.”

I felt a bit guilty that Margaret was so busy mopping up after me that she had to skip lunch.

I apologised. “I am sorry if I am making you more work.”

Margaret just dismissed my worries. “Oh don’t worry. Hospitality means I am cleaning and washing all the time. I clean the kitchen floor every day, the bathrooms, vacuum all the carpets. It might look like they don’t need it but you should see how much dust I pick up.”

I blushed a little as I said the next bit. “But what about all the bedding, all that extra washing?”

Margaret started to pour the tea.

“Oh the bedding has to be washed anyway. We get a lot of Americans stay here and they expect new bedding every day, especially the few that don’t wet the bed. It is all part of the job.” Margaret reassured.

As Margaret passed me my tea she added. “Oh, did you want to ... now? It is no problem, I can soon mop the floor.”

I smiled to put Margaret at ease. “No, that won’t be necessary. We went in the cove on the way back.”

Now Margaret smiled too.

Margaret passed Daren his tea while I sipped mine. It was hot.

As Margaret poured her own tea I asked. “How did you become so accommodating with bed wetting, it is almost as if you encourage it?”

I was expecting Margaret to just dismiss my question, but she was very forthcoming. “It is a bit of a long story really. But my Husband, Eric, was a bit of a control freak really. I did not mind as I had been brought up in a farming family with traditional farming values so I learned from my mother where the power really lied. But Eric liked to think he was in charge and that I should be the doting farmer’s wife. He insisted on me wearing gingham dresses all the time, which I don’t mind at all, they have become a bit of a trademark now I am the gingham lady! I have thirty gingham dresses now so I have some variety. He drove the tractor, except when he was combining when I had to drive the tractor, and he liked to show me he was the boss and he liked to pee on me.

When he first told me the day we got back from honeymoon I thought he was joking, I was appalled at the idea. It was so disrespectful and at the time I thought disgusting. I protested but he got angry and insisted that I was his wife and I was to obey.

Eventually I agreed that he could do it and I would have a bath straight afterwards. Eric then spent about half an hour putting down plastic sheets and towels. He was such a clean freak that he had taped all the joints in the plastic sheets like he was building a reservoir.