Why is it always raining when my car breaks down... well, nearly always? I'll explain.
It was mid July, stinking hot and we'd been promised a heat wave. I'd been up to Cumbria visiting my mother-in-law supposedly on a 'mission of mercy' to help her sort out her possessions. You will know me well enough by now to realise that there was, of course, another motive and that it had something to do with getting a red bottom. This was possible as my husband had made contact with an old friend of his, whom I'd never met, was from the 'CP' world and lived on what would be my way home. It was to be an early evening and the scene was that I would leave all my equipment scattered about the boot floor of my estate car concealed by the luggage cover. I was to sit by the side of the road in a particular layby and he would stop to help this damsel in distress (I had his registration number).
We would make believe that I had run out of fuel and instead of suggesting he go off and get fuel he would propose towing the car to the nearest petrol station. In order to do so though, he would need the towing eye. 'Where would that be?' I would ask 'in the boot' would be the reply and then without another word he would open the tailgate, slide the luggage cover out of the way and... and, horror of horrors, there it would all be: uniforms, canes, crops, paddles, wrist and ankle cuffs, nipple clamps, vibrators and well, just about everything one would need for a very extensive session. He would challenge me about it and I would eventually relent and make it clear that being very submissive I was in need of regular punishment. He would then command me to get in his car and be driven to his house for that punishment. At least, that was how it was supposed to run. Needless to say: it didn't.
The three days I had spent helping out went reasonably quickly and at two o-clock as I waved goodbye to my Mother-in-law the butterflies rumbling through my tummy were very pronounced. I stopped just before the motorway junction and spread everything out over the floor of the boot and then joined the M6. I was trundling along nicely, joining it at junction 32 and got nearly a hundred miles south when the car suddenly veered off course as though I'd had a puncture. I managed to pull over and onto the relative safety of the hard shoulder and rang the breakdown company who insisted that I must stand on the grass verge behind the crash barrier and not remain in the car. They also said that they would get someone to me as quickly as possible and, to be fair, it was only twenty five minutes but it was enough to get me absolutely soaked to the skin - no coat and raining cats and dogs.
When he did arrive it wasn't the rescue firm I was expecting but an independent company and the guy explained that he worked for a local garage and that, as I was in a situation of danger the RAA had subcontracted the job to his firm as their own recovery man would have been hours. He went to the front of the car, looked at the wheel and then called over to me.
"The front wheel bearing has exploded. Never seen that before. It's four wheel drive so it will have to be carried in, but I'll move it to one of the emergency laybys it'll be safer there. I'll get the towing eye and call it in." With that and to my utter horror he went to the rear of the car, opened the tailgate and released the luggage cover. So; here I was with the first part of my scenario happening for real. I couldn't then have known just how 'interesting' things would become. I could see the look on his face, it was almost a cartoon double take as he took in what he was seeing. "Wow. There's a lot of 'stuff' here Madam."
"Yes, sorry."
"No, it's fine." He spoke on the phone with his boss. "I'm to wait with you till the boss gets here. He says I can't move it but I'm afraid you still have to remain on the other side of the crash barrier." So that meant another twenty minutes and although the rain had eased off a bit and he had given me a blanket I was drenched. He wandered off and made a couple more calls. Eventually a flatbed truck arrived and it took another twenty minutes to load the car and make it safe and only seconds before we set off was I allowed into the cab.
I was soaking and quickly shed the wet blanket only to realise that my braless state was slightly embarrassing as my cold nipples were stiff and my wet-look blouse was revealing just about all. The rescue man got in and looked me up and down. A look of vague wonderment crossed his face.
"Shouldn't you get out of those wet things?"
"Well I have got my case with me, but where?"
"It's a double cab. You could get in the back and do it there, I'll try not to look. Promise." He half chuckled, then added under his breath "Not much chance of success. I'll pull over in half a mile when we're off the motorway."
"Okay, thank you." I looked at him again and now, as if for the first time noticing that, although in his mid fifties he was actually a very handsome man. Strong jaw, noble nose, clean shaven, straight black hair and rather large hands - I always notice their hands. We stopped in a field entrance in a lane off the main road and I climbed into the back and got some fresh things out of my bag and started to slip off my soaking blouse, my goose bumps and erect nipples, a testament to my state.
"You know we get all sorts. All sorts we do. And we never judge people." I could see he was sneaking a look every so often in his rear view mirror and I didn't mind - quite flattering actually - and I tried not to listen to him but he was raising his voice to be heard over the throb of the engine and it was hard to block him out. "Only the other week we had this young madam who insisted on being spanked..." My heart missed a beat and my throat went completely dry. "by one of the lads. Of course he obliged and she went home a very happy lady. Nice to keep the customers happy." I said nothing and continued changing but, instead of the jeans I had planned on wearing I opted for a short flouncy skirt instead.
"That's amazing." I said, feigning surprise.
"Of course when Frank called us he had to go and blurt out what he saw in the back of your car didn't he? I mean he wasn't being nosey or anything, he said the stuff was all over the place and he was looking for the towing eye for the car. It just made him think about that lady that's all... why he mentioned it I suppose." My palms become sweaty with anticipation when an 'event' might be in the offing and as I fumbled with the zip and skirt catch I wondered if this might be one of those occasions.
"How embarrassing."
"Not at all darling. Not my job to judge, just here to help out wherever I can."
"And have you ever done that?"
"Done what darling?"
"Spanked a stranger."
"Well, not a stranger but the misses loves it every now and then. Says it sets her straight. We do it in the back of this cab when the kids are home - she makes that much noise. Who am I to judge?"
"And would you?"
"Would I what?"
"Spank a stranger?"
"Well like I said, you've got to keep the customers happy."
"And would you, well, sort of, well... take command?" I needed my submissive fix.
"That depends if the lady wants it that way."
"I see. How would you know?"
"I suppose she'd say something like... let me see, err, she'd say 'I like a strong man who takes command', or something like that."
"Right." My voice trailed off. 'Do I dare, do I dare utter those words? Make that irreversible move that would, likely as not, lead to a spanking and, in all probability here and now.' But the choice was promptly taken from me.
"So, tell me... do you like a strong man who takes command?" Now, I didn't need a phrase, all I needed to utter was just one word but my voice wouldn't do what I was telling it to. I told it to say that little word in a loud, strong way but instead it eventually came out all mealy mouthed and girly.
