≈ We tried various positions – round the back, on the side, up against a wall … but in the end we came to the conclusion the bottom of the garden was the only place for a good shed.
≈ She knelt before me on the shed floor and tugged gently at first, then harder until finally it came. I moaned with pleasure. Now for the other boot.
≈ Ever since she read THAT book, I’ve had to buy all kinds of ropes, chains and shackles. She still manages to get into the shed, though.
≈ “I’m a very naughty girl,” she said, biting her lip. “I need to be punished.” So I invited my mum to stay for the weekend.
≈ “Harder!” she cried, gripping the workbench tightly. “Harder!” “Okay,” I said. “What’s the gross national product of Nicaragua?”
≈ “Are you sure you can take the pain?” she demanded, brandishing stilettos. “I think so,” I gulped. “Here we go, then,” she said, and showed me the receipt.
≈ “Are you sure you want this?” I asked. “When I’m done, you won’t be able to sit down for weeks.” She nodded. “Okay,” I said, putting the three-piece suite on eBay.
≈ “Punish me!” she cried. “Make me suffer like only a real man can!” “Very well,” I replied, leaving the toilet seat up.
– from the famous Fifty Sheds of Grey, by Colin Grey