Even after my teenage years my aunty insisted I adhere to her house rules if I was visiting, not a real problem, as I saw little of her during my first year in college. That situation changed in my second year when my parents sold the family home and moved to the cost. This left me with two options, move in with my aunty, or rent a place of my own. The second option fell through as soon as I mentioned the idea to my parents. “What’s the point of spending all that money on rent, when you can live with your aunt, she’s more than willing to put you up” was the answer, and that was that, I would have to leave collage, or move in with my strict aunty Lilly. The idea filled me with dread, and I must add a little excitement.
I arrived at aunt Lilly’s house at around one in the afternoon, this was a time she had prescribed, and knowing from earlier meetings I thought it best to be on time, aunt Lilly’s house hadn’t changed much since I was a boy. It was the largest of three at the end of a cul-de-sac, it was still winter so her prize roses had been cut back, and the garden was full of leaves from the two large trees flanking the pretty house. As I entered the garden I recalled a time some ten years ago when Aunty had sent me into the garden to rake and bag the laves. Not a memorable for most boys except she had dressed me in a short lemon dress and my freshly spanked bottom was on full display.