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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Elisabeth Browning was one of the first Millenials, born into a large Northumberland family in 2000 and considered to be a gift, a surprise and a mistake. She learns to take full advantage of her cute looks, lightening wit, indomitable personality and her luck at being born into a family that are far from wealthy but able to 'spoil' her as the other kids are now mostly grown up and working.
She does have one thing she is unhappy with: her name Elisabeth, which she tries very hard to change without offending her parents.

This story becomes progressively more erotic. I believe that background is importanf.


Some may say I had a privileged upbringing, I can't argue with that at all and I am so grateful for it.  I was born in the June of the first year of the second millennium in the Wansbeck General hospital maternity wing in Ashington in Northumberland.To say I was unexpected is a bit of an understatement.  I was a complete, mind blowing seismic disturbance.  My Dad had apparently had the 'snip' after our Maggie was born.  Economy of scale is what I think they called it.  Inevitably there arose some doubt as to who had parented the child 

However the hospital assured Dad that this did occasionally happen. Dad was shown the consent form he signed before the operation  It was highlighted  in fluorescent green.

 "Even with a successful surgery and you following the proper post-vasectomy plan, your vas deferens (sperm pipe) can reconnect months or years later. In some cases, this has happened 10 years after a vasectomy! "

So that was the end of the suspicion and doubts - for the time being.

Our family own 'Moggies Farm', a large house and four hundred acres of land along the Northumberland coast.  There are also a variety of additional properties associated with the farm including residential rental properties and Holiday lets and some commercial storage.

The name goes back to the seventeen hundreds when some aristocrat by the name of Sir Patrick Mogginnis owned the land around the spot where the present house is built.  Disease and neglect had a terrible effect on the local population and upon the Mogginnis family.  By the time the last  Mogginnis died, the estate was in debt and the house was a crumbling wreck.

The Duke of Northumberland ordered that the Mogginnis Land be Auctioned to pay off the creditors but there were no takers as the debt was so great it far outweighed the value of the land.  For almost a hundred years the land was allowed to make a slow return to nature, overgrown by weeds and trees.  The entire site became known locally as Moggies Farm.


In the eighteen forties a farmer Browning whose land adjoined the Mogginnis plot asked the Duke if he could use some of the land for grazing and cropping, in return for him repairing fences, walls and clearing away the overgrown areas.  The Duke had become weary of the complaints of neighbouring farmers and gladly accepted.  After a couple of years, and happy with the work Mr Browning had done, the Duke offered to Sell the land to Mr Browning at a price he could not really refuse.

Everyone was pleased with the result.  The Duke was not troubled by the local residents, Joseph Browning had doubled his property for little expenditure and his neighbours were not troubled by trespassers, weeds and vermin coming from the Mogginnis Farm.

Over the years the Browning Family gradually expanded by purchasing smaller farms as their owners died or retired.  The family carefully managed the land and made a good living from the Cattle, both Beef and Dairy production, sheep and cereals.  They even grew their own feed crops and some root vegetables.

When the Brownings decided to leave their family home on the original Browning Farm they rebuilt a Handsome modern property on the site of the derelict Mogginis farm, and took advantage of the notorious title it had been given locally, renaming the whole four hundred acre site 'MOGGIES FARM'.  It even has two little private beaches just off the coastal fields.

Successive generations of Joseph Brownings had lived, worked and died on Moggies Farm

Successive generations of Joseph Brownings had lived, worked and died on Moggies Farm.  My memories go back to my great grandparents, Joe and Molly who passed away when I was aged eleven.  They lived in an annexe to the main farm and were in their eighties or nineties, but they always made a massive fuss of me. My Nan and Grandad live in the Annex now, Grandad Joe and Nanna Katie, are in their seventies now but full of life.  As the surprise package of the family, and with my super cute looks and personality, they spoiled me rotten - still do.

My Mam, -  (Mary Mouse)  and Dad (Cowboy Joe)  - Run the farm now even though sometimes Grandad Joe lends a hand.  My older brothers Jeff (29) and Barry (26) work the farm with Dad and they love it.  Not so my sister Margaret (24).  She went to University in Newcastle to do Business and Law, graduating with top grades, She works in a busy Solicitors office as a solicitors clerk, but has her sights set on higher things.  She still lives at home but hopes to have a little stable building converted as a studio pad.  Oh and people occasionally call her 'Moggie' which is befitting, if totally accidental (Mam says)That brings us up to me.  Elisabeth Jane Browning, the sperm that got away Ha ha!  The accident, the mistake, the cutest little treasure in the whole of Browning history.

Six years after he was voluntarily sterilised, Dad suddenly found the silver bullet he thought had been lost

Six years after he was voluntarily sterilised, Dad suddenly found the silver bullet he thought had been lost.  Of course there was no cheerful compare there, to tell Mam and Dad they'd won the top prize with the Golden Shot.  'ME'.(Old UK quiz game)

They reckon it was six months after that fateful frolic that Mam, worried about the irregularity of her period, (Really - six Months) decided to ask the doctor.  Dad reckons that they found out because the vet made a comment about the size of her arse on one of his visits and suggested - and I quote Dad- 

"Are you sure your prize heifer over there isn't in calf Joe"

Mam has never denied it so it may be true, but Mams got a sense of humour too so who knows.

Dad says I popped out like a cork coming out of a champagne bottle and the midwife just caught me before I flew out of the door.  Mam says "It was the easiest birth she had"

Being brought up in a house with two Nanna's two Grandads plus my siblings and parents was a right good stroke of luck.  I've always been lucky, and I've always been spoiled rotten.  Life on the farm was good, heavenly good in fact, always someone to pick me up and cuddle me and tell me how pretty I was.  That must have been good training for me as I got older, because it still happens, and I milk it for all I can get.  Not in a bad way mind you. 

Almost as soon as can remember I learned that men think women are the weaker sex and it is their job to protect us (and hug us and kiss us and love us and make everything fluffy and lovely for us)  They are so wrong, but please dont change.  At the age of three or thereabouts I can remember thinking "I shouldn't have done that and I am going to get into trouble - Better start to cry NOW and snuggle up to Grandad - inconsolable."

Grandad was always a good bet because he held the power of seniority in the house

Grandad was always a good bet because he held the power of seniority in the house.  I may not have known those words but I knew I could twist him round my little finger if I could make my lip quiver while attempting a smile.

"I'm s-s-sorry G-Grandad I just cut Nanna's f-f-f-finger off sniff sniff"

"Oh good girl for telling Granda, I'll get you a new one when we go to town.  There there sweetheart. Come and get some of Nanna's chocolate"

I'm sure you get the gist of it, even if I never actually cut Nanna's finger off really.

There was only really one thing about my life that I didn't like - MY BLOODY NAME.

From the first stuttering attempts to say my name "airbithybith" I decided it was wrong on every level. I slowly managed to not learn it and up to the age of three when Nanna was teaching me to read and write and eat sweeties,  I stubbornly refused to get past Ellitha.  It was the start of a lifetime of experimentation.  Can you believe little three year old me, with my cute ringlets, courtesy of Nanna, and pretty dress and snow white frilly socks, when I answered "THAT' question  -  And what's your name?  - I would intentionally lisp "Ellitha"  and invariably they would reply "Elyssa - What a pretty name"



Life on the farm was really brilliant for a three year old.  Health and Safety has a different meaning when you live on a farm.  You see our front door doesn't open out onto a busy housing estate or a main road, it opens out into a big garden with a big wrought Iron Gate that is heavy and stiff to open.  The garden has Apple trees, pear trees and berry bushes.  The path to the gate is lined with vicious rose bushes armed with treacherous thorns just waiting to puncture the tender skin of any little princess who failed to offer them the respect they deserve and demand.

If little Elyssa wanted an apple or a pear she would have no qualms about trying to climb the tree to reach them.  I was actually very accomplished at tree climbing, and despite the scuffs on my shins, elbows and thighs, the pretty little dress that I tore was never an obstacle to me.

On one occasion I went straight out after a shopping trip with my mam.  I had a pretty flowery dress, fresh on that I'd only worn a couple of times.  When we got back home, mam told me to go and change my dress while she put the shopping away. As I went upstairs I looked out of a window and saw kitten in the back paddock.  The dogs would have it if it stayed there!

I ran back downstairs and out into the paddock.  It saw me coming and made a bolt for the barn.  I followed it in just in time to see it scramble up to the loft.  Hot on the trail I moved the ladder to trap it up there. Then I climbed the thick support posts and swung up to the loft floor.  Unfortunately my dress caught on olds nail in the post and ripped exposing nylon new pink knickers.

Undeterred I chase the cat into a corner, where I dived across the floor banging my elbow and catching the little devil. Which lashed out clawing my arm as it struggled.   Just then our Jeff came in and shouted for me to come down.  Noticing the ladder had moved he replaced it and told me to come down the ladder.

I still had the wriggling cat in my arms as I approached the top of the ladder.  As I tried to keep hold of it, the cat made two jumps and was off out of the barn, never to be seen again.  Jeff laughed at the cat and said Elisabeth browning you've got no arse in your knickers and it looks like the dress was one of cinderella's cast offs.

"Mam will kill me.  -  Eeee Jeff your touching my bare bum. I'm not your girlfriend  you know" I giggled

"You better go in the back door and get changed before 'Mary Mouse' sees your clothes.  I hid the dress and pants in the bottom of a set of draws in my room, and put on my jeans and sweat shirt.  Then I went back out to play.  I think they're still there in the back of that draw now.




Submitted: January 10, 2022

© Copyright 2022 Graham Makem. All rights reserved.

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