My marriage to Peter had changed so much since we left the bright lights of the city and moved to an old house in the country. We were both employed by the same company which is where we met, but I was now working from home. At first, it was really good; my job was checking figures online before they were posted onto the company's ledgers.

However, after a few months, Peter began having nights away from home, citing company business. I had no reason to think otherwise. One evening I received a phone call from my good friend Susan Hays who worked in the same office as Peter.

The company had taken on an office junior by the name of Jamie and Peter was showing rather a lot of interest. I just assumed that she was a girl, but I was wrong. Jamie was a delightful young man straight out of school. 

I think it was early winter when I noticed that I was putting on weight at an alarming rate; something was very wrong. Graham, our elderly neighbour and my gardener, would often call by for morning coffee. I enjoyed his company; he told me stories about his time during the war years. Although he never said it, it was obvious to me that he rather liked my new rather plump appearance and come to think of it so did I. There was a full-length mirror between the shower room and my bedroom and I would often admire my new look.

I  think it would be true to say that I was frustrated in more ways than one. I had no problem allowing the old boy the chance to peep up my dress but I wanted to allow him something more imaginative. The answer was obvious. 

As he left after our morning coffee, I slipped a small plastic carrier bag into his hand containing several pairs of my very best knickers. His face lit up like a beacon on a hilltop in the dead of night when I whispered to him, "Hand wash only and return at coffee time in the morning." That man was a real-life hero he fought his way across western Europe with the Allies during 1944/5.

The springtime duly arrived and the warm weather was a sure sign for Graham to start the new gardening year. We both favoured vegetables as opposed to flowers, but all decisions I left to him.

My husband moved out of the house and took a small room in a  friend's flat in the city; he was back where he wanted to be. It's strange, but I was rather pleased with the arrangement. I had total freedom to do whatever I wanted, our marriage was dead it had been for quite some time.

We all have dark secrets and very often memories of unhappy events which we try to suppress, but they always surface from time to time. I was fortunate enough to go to an all-girls private boarding school near London. There was nothing nice or jolly about it, quite the opposite. The staff were all female and middleaged. We called them the she-devils because that is what they were. Walking evil, you could say. The only comfort we ever found at that school was between ourselves. I think there were about 200 girls at any one time.

The girls in their final year before university got the worst treatment. We were sent to the headmistress for punishment for the just about anything. It was a few days after my sixteenth birthday when it was my turn. My crime was that I had dropped my pen onto the classroom floor. 

I was shaking with fear as I waited outside the headmistress's study. Several minutes passed before I was taken in by the school secretary. I actually soaked my knickers because of my fear of what was about to happen. Miss Edwards was the worst of them all; she was clearly a sadist who took great delight in inflicting pain on defenseless schoolgirls.

Later that afternoon, I was punished by the class teacher for the same thing not only did I have to stay behind and complete five hundred lines but each time she walked past my desk, she would give me the evil eye? I was at the lowest point in my life and there was no escape.

The evil bitch better known as Miss Edwards died several years ago. An ideal partner for Satan. On the anniversary of her passing, I always visited her resting place and I would wear an exact replica of my old school uniform which my sister made for me. After placing a bouquet of flowers on her grave, I would piss all over it being careful not to soak the beautiful flowers which Graham grew for me in his garden.

Graham and I became very close friends, I even allowed him to bathe me and he would carry out my precise instructions like the good soldier he was. The year went by as it always did and before too very long, it was harvest time once again. The crops were good owing to the summer rain. I wanted to reward him in some way for all the hard work he had done in the garden.

However, unknown to me he had his own ideas. After washing off the many different vegetables he boldly slipped his hand up my flimsy dress and smiled when it was obvious that I was not wearing any knickers? With a little help from his guiding hands, a carrot found its way deep into my tight rear entrance, and a cucumber was shoved firmly up my cunt. Yes, it was indeed a very good harvest.