I was rather nervous as I knocked on Pat's front door. She'd never liked me even before I started arguing with her daughter. She literally believed that Sarah was too good for me and that she had made the biggest mistake of her life by marrying me. Her conversations with me, when she was forced to have one, were short and terse and never, ever polite. True to form, she didn't even greet me when she finally opened the door, even though I was stood outside in the rain. "You know the way to the garden." she said, pointing to the patio doors at the back of the house "The place is a right mess. It's a job for a man really but my husband's long dead and I refuse to pay the exorbitant rates that are being charged for clean up services in this area. Given that you're almost a man and that Sarah says you'll be more than happy to work for as long as it takes without charge, I suppose you're the best option available. You're my daughter's choice, though, not mine. I hope you understand that." "Oh, I understand you exactly Pat." I said bitterly She bristled at that. "I think you'd better watch your tone." she snapped back "Sarah told me that if you didn't speak to me with respect I was to call the whole thing off and send you back home. She also said there would be consequences. "Mindful of what I stood to lose if I upset Sarah, I bit my tongue. "I'm very sorry." I said softly, lowering my head. "That's better." said Pat, looking at me disdainfully "Now get outside and start working. No slacking either, I know what a lazy bastard you are. I'll be watching you and I'll be reporting back to Sarah." I don't mind telling you that I almost ran out into the garden. Partly, I was eager to get away from her. Mainly, though, I wanted to Make Sarah happy. Pat closed the doors tight behind me. I was in that garden for hours. Pat was right. It was a complete mess, covered from head to foot in broken branches, leaves, uprooted flowers and assorted rubbish and debris from all around the neighbourhood. The fact that it was raining did not make my work any easier. From time to time, I looked back at the patio doors and whenever I did, Pat was there, a drink in her hand. She was obviously supervising me, just as she had promised. Just knowing she was made me work even harder and I even had a hard-on as I slaved away, just thinking of what my reward from Sarah might be. I had not had sexfor moths and I missed her terribly. After some time, I found myself imagining that it was she who was watching me rather than her mother. It was not too difficult as they were physically similar in many ways. Both were what I called voluptuous and others might call Rubenesque, with marvellously large breasts and arses, although Pat was somewhat more generously endowed than her daughter . Sarah was, of course, twenty years younger than her almost sixty year old mother. She was shorter as well and her hair was long and black while Pat's was almost entirely grey. Still,the resemblance was uncanny and mademy imagination easy to stimulate. It rained very heavily at one point in the afternoon and I walked back towards the house, intending to take shelter. Pat merely glowered at me and turned a key in the lock. I began to plead with her, growing increasingly angry. She responded by lifting up her mobile and beginning to dial. Mouthing an apology, I turned towards the garden shed. I was about to enter it when I turned back and saw Pat shaking her head angrily. She was speaking into her mobile. Quickly, I closed the shed door and returned to my duties. Pat smiled and I breathed a sigh of relief. Towards dusk, I had finally put the garden into some semblance of order and I walked back to the patio doors. This time Pat opened them. I made to step inside but Pat used her ample frame to block me. "Take your clothes off here and put them in this bag." she told me,handing me a bin bag "I won't have you making a mess of my nice clean house. You can have a shower upstairs. You'll find some suitable attire in the cupboard there." What she said made perfect sense; my clothes were soaked through and my boots were covered in mud. I stepped inside, closed the door behind me and started to strip. It was only then I realised that Pat was still watching me. My face reddened and I froze in embarrassment. Pat laughed or rather sneered. "What? You don't think I should be looking at you? Come on! There's nothing under those clothes that could possibly offend or excite me. On the contrary, I think I'd be rather amused. Sarah has given me a full description of your inadequacies and I'd like to see if you really are as pathetic as I've always imagined you to be." I was furious but I did not show it. I was too afraid of upsetting Sarah and losing my chance of reconciliation. Thinking only of her, I stayed silent and removed the rest of my clothes, placing them in the bin bag. When I was finally naked, Pat looked me up and down and smirked. "Hurry up and get your shower." she said at last "And don't use too much water. My bills are high enough as it is." I was grateful for the chance to escape her mocking gaze. The strange was that my cock was rock hard as I hurried up the stairs. Having showered, I opened the bathroom cupboard to search for the suitable attire Pat had promised. To my great surprise, it was completely empty except for one solitary item; a thick leather collar with a nameplate on it that said simply "BITCH". My cock leaped to attention as I fastened it round my neck with trembling hands. This could mean only one thing. Sarah had arrived while I was outside working and she was waiting for me downstairs! My heart pounding, I raced to the sitting room.