Mother-in-law Knows Best – Part 3 (F/M, F/F)

Hot adult fiction by guest author David Stewart

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

 

Now read on for Part 3:

Ouch!

David and his wife continued to play as they had with David happy to cede to his “Mistress and Wife” in everything. His stay at his Mother-In-Law’s house had brought home the undoubted benefits of being disciplined, but he would far rather this was done by his wife.

It was some months later, the bank holiday weekend, when they next all met. His wife had teased him a few times, “If you don’t behave I may have to ask Mother to see to you again,” and so on.  Thus it was with some trepidation that David arrived with his wife to stay the weekend at Mother-in-law’s.

Immediately David realised that his Mother-in-law had changed her attitude towards him and she had become more domineering, much to his wife’s amusement. It was no longer a case of, “Would you like a coffee, David?” Now it was, “Would you like a coffee daughter dearest?” followed by, “David go and make the coffee for us.”

During that Friday night the conversation turned to David and his behaviour and she mocked him with, “And have you been a good boy since your last visit David?” and other humiliating comments. His Wife said that his behaviour had been better and he had returned from his stay rather embarrassed, but eager to behave.

The Saturday they all went out for a meal, which David paid for and much consumption of wine took place. During the meal David got a bit disrespectful towards his wife. Some of his comments were rude and when they returned home he huffed and tutted several times when told to do things.

It was obvious that his Mother-In-law was not impressed and when they awoke the next morning his wife remarked that he had made a real idiot of himself, and could be in bother as a result. She commented that before bed her mother had said to her, “I will deal with this tomorrow.” Despite a sore head herself, she managed to laugh at David’s expression and said, “Yes my silly drunken husband, I suspect mother will be taking your pants down again today, and I will get to watch!”

Breakfast was late and they all went to the church service and had a late lunch, walking home instead of driving.

Lunch eaten David was told to, “Clear up the dishes then join us in the lounge.”

In the lounge her mother started to berate her daughter about the way she had allowed David to speak at the meal the previous evening and how she felt his attitude needed addressing. “You are letting him off with far too much my dear, and will regret it if you don’t stop him now.”

David arrived with coffee and as they drank, mother started to tell David off for his attitude. He apologised to both ladies.

“Yes apologise you should, and must, but I still intend to send you home with a sore bottom as a reminder. When in my house it is MY RULES,” she emphasised the last phrase. “Since I learnt how my daughter deals with you I have admired her. Alas, she has failed this time, so I shall intervene and sort you out and send you both home on the right tracks. Now, David I want you to go upstairs, put your pj’s on and then wait in my bedroom for us. You can spend some time thinking why you are waiting for us. When I come up I expect an apology and a request to punish you.”

David blushed.  With resignation on his face, he left the room, glancing at his smiling wife as he did so. He was soon nervously standing in his night shorts and t-shirt looking at the hairbrush that was laid on the bed.

Downstairs her mother was giving advice to her daughter but also castigating her for allowing her husband so much slack. “You know the way I always dealt with you and your sisters,” she said. “Immediate and harsh spankings, whenever deserved. You also need to ensure David gets that. I am a bit surprised that you have failed to follow my example darling, but today I hope to give you both an idea of where you’ve gone wrong.”

Upstairs, David was nervously contemplating his fate. He had to acknowledge he deserved to be spanked, and also that his life was all the better for being a submissive husband. The humiliation of being spanked by his mother-in-law had some attraction, and he knew he was in for a real hiding. However, his excitement was squashed as he reflected on the severity of his last spanking from her. It had been a thirty minute wait, but now he heard footsteps and was suddenly a very scared naughty boy indeed.

Both wife and mother-in-law trooped in. Mother sat on the bed and called David to her side, “You have something to say and ask, David?”

David was well-rehearsed. With head bowed, he said in an not altogether steady voice, “I am very sorry for my behaviour last night, and I deserve to be spanked.”

“AND…what do you want me to do about that David?” came the impatient voice of his mother-in-law.

“Will you spank me, please?“

“Yes indeed, I am now going to give you the first of two spankings you will get today, David. Perhaps you will learn some manners and respect?” She hooked a thumb in either side of his shorts and pulled them slowly down revealing a very limp cock and then demanded, “Now GET OVER MY KNEE.”

David was soon looking at the carpet as the trepidation set in and the first smack of the brush descended. He yelled and the spanking continued unabated for what seemed an eternity.

“See, this is how you deal with naughty disrespectful husbands my dear. He is learning now.”

David was having a conversation of his own, yelping and crying out, “I’m sorry, honest I will behave” and so forth.

Eventually, he was told to stand. He didn’t know whether to massage his bottom or cover his exposed cock and balls.

“Go and face the wall now,” he was told and as he did so he remembered her words that there were to be two spankings that day.  He’d had the first, but there was to be more!  How sorry he felt.

The next words were to his wife, “And now darling it is your turn for the brush. It is David’s fault you are being spanked as well.  You should have kept on top of him. Had you been harder on him before, this would not be necessary. NOW GET OVER HERE!”

An obviously shocked daughter was taken aback and said, “Mother, no you can’t…I mean it’s not fair, it is David’s fault and he has been spanked, it’s not my fault.”

“My house and my rules, dear! Now get over here or should I let David watch you as well as hear you?”

“No Mother! Surely not with David in the room.”

“We will do this as in years past.”

David did not fully understand. His wife walked nervously towards her mother and stood at her side. She reached forward and as she spoke started to undo the belt on her daughters jeans followed by the noisy zipper. Then the jeans were tugged down leaving her panties as her only protection.

“Now my dear, I am going to spank you very hard, after you have asked me to do so, and you are being spanked because of David’s behaviour and your lack of control over him. I want you to feel every smack and blame David, because believe me you will feel this. Now what have you to say?”

David could hear but only imagine the scene. His cock was growing rock hard. He could never have envisaged what was happening and he wished he could watch it unfold, not just listen.

A quiet nervous voice said, “Mother I am sorry for not dealing with David firmly enough and allowing him to be a brat. I deserve to be spanked. Will you spank me please?”

“Yes my dear I certainly will and remember this is entirely David’s fault. Now get over my knee and we will get this over with.”

A sudden smack and yell broke the silence, and soon the brush was cascading down on the daughter. Yells, screams and apologies were forthcoming. Tears followed.

“Dry your tears now my dear.  You needed that. Now get dressed. Remind me, who was at fault, dear?”

“It was that husband of mine!” she said.

“And do you appreciate the need to keep him disciplined now?”

“I certainly do and won’t make the same mistake again, Mother.”

“Well that’s good to hear because you are now going to give David his second spanking and if I don’t think you have been hard enough then your own bottom will get another roasting.”

She eagerly took the brush from her mother and announced, “No fear of that, Mother. David is going to regret this day. David, get over here now!”

“Remember my dear, you’ve got to be cruel to be kind.”

David was pleased it was his wife and not her mother that was giving the second spanking. His happiness was misplaced, however. His shorts had fallen to his ankles and he was proudly erect as he faced the two dominant ladies. They looked at the erection and then at each other. Mother leant over and grabbed a box of tissues. She gave them to her daughter, suggesting, “Perhaps we need to get rid of that?”

A very good impression of an angry wife followed. the box of tissues was thrown at David.  “Right, David! Wank yourself off while we watch and laugh at you.”

David was in his element.  He was humiliated and submissive.  He eagerly started to pump his cock before quickly cumming into a tissue.

“Is he always as quick?” Mother-in-law asked, in an amused tone.

The second he had cum, David decided he did not fancy a further spanking. However,he knew it was not his choice. His Wife sat down on the chair and pulled a towel over her knees.  She summoned David, calmly.

“Now David I have just suffered the hardest and most humiliating of all spankings and all because you were a brat last night. You will behave like that again! Once we get home expect your punishments to be harder and more regular. You are going to pay for last night. Now get over my lap!”

Mother-in-law laughed, saying, “Remember dear, you give David what he needs or you’ll get it from me!”

The first crack of the brush on bare flesh followed. David squealed. The brush descended and rose in time with his yells and the punishment continued unabated for several minutes. He was yelling and shouting out. Mother-in-law helped by holding him down and encouraging, “Go on, give the brat what he deserves and remember how your botty feels.”

He started to feel tears welling up. The pain was agony and there seemed to be no stopping his wife. Eventually it was the words of Mother-in-law that ended it. “Right dear I think you have proved the point and should stop. I am proud of you.”

David got up. His eyes were sore with tears and his bottom was burning like mad. He was relieved it was over.

After a few minutes of calm, David was aware of some whispering. His wife suddenly announced,  “Mother and I are going out for the afternoon. You will remain as you are, and sit at the table and write your lines.”

He was taken to the table and given the hardest chair to sit on. His wife dictated the line, “I must always be respectful and obedient and know that if I am not I will be spanked again like today.”

“Good line, if a bit short,” her Mother opined.

“And I want that done neatly 300 times today. And for every mistake I will give you five seconds of the brush before your early bedtime tonight.”

They were soon gone. David sat painfully and wrote and wrote all afternoon. It was after 6pm when they returned. David was done with his lines but still sat painfully.

His wife took the lines and handed them to her mother saying, “Mother will you mark these for me please?”

They had a meal at 7.30 which was uncomfortable for David. Afterwards, he was told to clear up.

When he returned his wife had the lines in front of her.

“Well, how do you think you did?”

“I tried ever so hard, but know I had a few mistakes,” David replied.

“Well Mother, how many did you find?”

“I found, despite being generous, some glaring errors and had to mark 11 of these as faults.”

“Good!  Now do your maths, David. How long have I to spank you before bed?”

David knew there was no escape and replied “55 seconds Ma’am.”

Both ladies smiled at this. “Now go upstairs and wait in Mother’s bedroom.”

It was a short while later that both ladies appeared and David was summoned over to his wife again. His shorts came down and a bruised and sore bottom was exposed. Nothing was said and he obediently laid himself over the waiting lap of his wife.

Mother-in-law said, “Time starts NOW!” It was a long long painful 55 seconds and tears flowed again. The call of “Time’s up” was very welcome.

It was his wife’s turn to give the orders now, “Right get up David, and take that as a hard lesson learnt. Now, if you want to behave and be treated like a little boy then you will be. Go and brush your teeth and get into bed and I will tuck you in.”

David obeyed without hesitation and his wife came and tucked him in as promised. “Oh my poor darling David, I know you have had a tough day but I got spanked because of you and that will never happen again!”

She turned and showed her own bottom to her husband then slipped a hand under the bedclothes and found his semi-erect penis. It soon became erect in her hands. “We will see what happens when I come to bed David, as I think the day has been rather exciting…don’t you?”

Back downstairs the conversation revolved around David’s chastisement and then the daughter mentioned her own spanking.

“I had forgotten how much of a disciplinarian you were Mother, and also how hard you can use that brush!” Both laughed.

“And have you learnt a lesson today, my dear?”

“Oh I don’t think I ever forgot what I was spanked for Mother, I had just forgotten how better I felt afterwards.”

After another glass of wine, Mother returned to the subject and asked, “What did you mean about how better you felt afterwards?”

“Oh that! Well I always feared a spanking from you, obviously, but afterwards the air was cleared. There were never any bad feelings and to be honest I always felt a better person for it, relaxed kind of, I suppose.”

“So today’s spanking has that had the same effect on you, has it relaxed you?”

“Well strangely, yes. Sore at the time but afterwards, a good while afterwards…well I appreciated why David feels the need to be kept in line by me.”

A short time later Mother broke the silence, “You know my dear perhaps it would do you good now and again to get your bottom spanked, you know to relax you and whatever…”

“Well, I am not letting David do that as that would spoil our play.”

“From what I have heard and seen today, David most certainly must be the one spanked and kept in line. No, I was offering my own help to you.”

“To me Mother…you don’t mean…well you will spank me again?”

“That’s exactly what I am suggesting, my dear. Whenever you visit or I visit you I shall bring my trusted brush and spank you like I have done many times before. No fuss, no complaining, just what you need”

“But David, I can’t have him knowing this.”

“No my dear, it must remain strictly between you and I. David can go to the shops or on some errand while we get on with our business.”

Her daughter embraced her mother.  They cuddled, “Oh, thank you Mother for being so understanding.”

“Right my dear. That is settled and we will not discuss this further. Each time you visit, or I visit you, then at some point you will be told to get ready for a spanking. We will do it as we did when you lived here. I shall use the brush and I shall spank you hard. Is that understood?”

“Yes Mother. Thank you.”

In bed that night, husband and wife were wide awake. She touched his sore and burning bottom and, as he winced, she turned her attention to his rock hard member.

“Go down on me!” she whispered.  He crawled between her open legs and licked her exceptionally moist pussy. He enjoyed the fact that his wife was so excited after his chastisement. Had he only appreciated the real reason she was so wet, he may have been even more pleased.

 ______________________

Story © 2012 by David Stewart, used here by kind permission

Comments please!

Revelations – Part 1 (M/M)

erotic fiction by your host, Rod Cayenne

Peter was moving in with his father. The old man, now 75, needed a little looking after, and as Peter was penniless after a messy divorce, it made sense for the two men to pool their resources.

Dad shook his son’s hand firmly to welcome him back to the old family home. It was a generous four-bedroom property with ample room for just the two of them. However, as Peter had become a bit of a hoarder over the years, the place was soon cluttered by a large number of cardboard boxes full of his belongings, ephemera and junk. The clutter became a source of friction between the two men, as Dad had always liked things “just so.”

As it happened, one day Dad tripped over a pile of the boxes. Luckily he was unhurt, but the contents of one of the boxes spilt out everywhere. Riding crops and school canes fell onto the floor. The two men looked at each other. 52-year-old Peter blushed just like a teenager. Dad’s Cairn Terrier, Duke, barked furiously at the upset. Who would blink first? In the end, it was Dad, “Well, son. What a revelation! A bit kinky, are we? No wonder Sandy left you! You’d better put them away. We’ll talk about it later.”

Peter scrambled on the floor, picking up the various implements of correction. He blushed furiously as he placed his “toys” back in the box. Duke barked again, and Dad couldn’t resist a chuckle.

The two men spoke little over the fish and chip supper. Peter felt awful, and he could sense some amusement from his father. How Peter wished he had hidden that particular box in the bedroom he’d been allocated.

“Alright Peter. That was a nice meal, thank you. Now, we have something to discuss, haven’t we? Bring the box, we’re going to my study.”

The study was one of the nicest rooms in the old house. It was light and airy, with the sunshine streaming through the window that autumn evening. Peter put the box down on the desk and his father sat down, facing his son.

“Well now. I think you have some explaining to do, Peter. Take the lid off the box and talk me through the contents, please.”

Peter picked up a traditional school cane. It was golden brown, three feet long and had a curved handle. “Well, you should recognise this one Dad! It’s your old cane!”

“Whaaat? Give it to me this instant!” Dad was handed the cane, and he flexed and swished it, just like old times. He pointed it at Peter and said, “It is my old cane! Lovely, but I thought I told you to throw it away? That was a long time ago now. And you’ve kept it all these years?”

“Well yes. I was going to throw it away but then I didn’t, Dad.”

“Evidently not! Has it seen a lot of use since then?”

“Oh yes, I’ll say!”

“And have you been on the receiving end or the giving end?”

“I’d rather not say, Dad!”

CRACK! Dad slashed the cane down on the desk, right in front of Peter.

“I didn’t ask whether you wanted to reply, I asked which end of the cane you were on!”

“Err, right Dad. A bit of both, actually.”

“I see. So you really are kinky then? I’m confiscating this cane, or rather taking it back as it was mine all along. I’ve thought of a use for it.”

Peter gulped. He wasn’t keen on his Dad having a cane again. Dad and cane was a near-lethal combination that brought back painful memories.

“OK Dad, of course, it’s yours to keep.”

“What else have you got in there?”

Peter extracted another cane. He swished it around.

“I got this one at a country fair. It’s a bit thinner and has an awful sting. It’s not quite as nicely finished as yours, and the crook handle isn’t as beautifully curved.”

“Mmmm. I see. Well, you can keep that one. Next!”

“A nice brown leather riding crop bought at the same country fair. It was new, unlike the cane.”

“Let me have a look please. Yes, very nice. Can you spare it?”

“Yes, Dad. You can have it, if you really want it. I’ve got another one here much the same, but in black leather.”

“Oh yes, very nice. Thanks, I will keep the brown one. You’d better hang on to the other one, Peter.”

Dad sniffed the plaited brown leather crop as Peter rummaged further in the box.

“And then I’ve got this one, which is a fluorescent pink. Quite a fun item. Popular with the ladies.”

“A bit effeminate that one. Are you sure you’re not gay?”

“Dad! Sandy chose that one. We got it mail-order from some sex supplies company.”

“Tut, tut. How seedy! What else have you got?”

“Silver handcuffs from the same supplier.”

“I’ll take those, please,” Dad said.

“A straight cane with a rubber handle. Same place again.”

“How does that compare with the others, Peter?”

“It’s a bit of a bruiser. No fun at all. And lastly, there’s this malacca cane. From the old antiques shop in Victoria Avenue. Knobbly and very punishing.”

“Mmmm, yes, it does look like something from an S&M film,” said Dad, much to Peter’s surprise. “So that leaves me with my original cane, and this rather nice brown crop you have given me. Excellent! Oh, and these handcuff thingies. Now go and put that box away in your room. We won’t be needing it again, and I don’t want it tipping out in front of any visitors. See to it, Peter. And then come back for another chat, please.”

Peter took the box up to his room. That chat had been embarrassing. He was a little worried about his Dad.

Back in the study, Dad was flexing his cane. Peter came back in and was blushing again.

“Well, Peter.  This has been a day of revelations! It seems my son is what is commonly known as a spanko! With a secret supply of implements of chastisement. Dad thinks this is a bit shocking, you know.”

“Err yes, Dad.”

“Don’t worry, Peter, my boy. I shall keep your secret safe. No-one will find out from me.”

“Thanks Dad!”

“However, it would be a shame if this crop and cane slipped into retirement. I propose a thrashing for you for all the clutter and the fact that I could have been injured. How does that sound?”

“Dad, come on, you’re joking, surely?”

“No, actually, I’m not. I’m a bit of a spanko, too. Let’s get down to it, shall we?”

“No, Dad. This is all wrong.”

“Right or wrong? Who bloody cares at my age?”

“Dad!”

“Well, that’s how I feel. Make the old man happy, please.”

“Well, if you’re sure? And it will be a secret?”

“Of course! Now how about six with the crop for the clutter? And another six, on the bare, for the box business. With the cane, of course.”

“On the bare?”

“Yes, it always was, wasn’t it?”

“Err, of course.  But things are different now. I’m 52! Can’t I be allowed a bit of modesty?”

“No! Not appropriate, I feel. You may be 52, but you’re still a naughty boy in my eyes. Now over the desk for six with this beautiful crop.”

Peter bent over the oak desk, just like in times past.  It had been over thirty years since he had last bent over it. A rush of excitement consumed him. He grinned and then grimaced as his Dad swished the brown crop through the air. Dad paced up and down the room, swishing the crop some more and smacking it gently on his leg.

“You know, I think this is really going to hurt, Peter,” Dad said. “It could be worse than the cane. Perhaps we’d better have you bare for these as well, so that I can see the marks. I don’t want to get carried away.”

“I’m more worried about you having a heart attack, Dad.”

“Shut up boy! Trousers and underpants down for your father!”

So it was that Peter’s Farah slacks slid down, followed by his cream Marks and Spencer briefs. An unmistakable erection was growing between his legs and pressing against the desk. Dad had no matching stiffness! He hadn’t been troubled by an erection for a long time.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Dad lashed the crop down enthusiastically on his son’s bottom. Oh boy, was this good!

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Peter needn’t have doubted his father’s ability to deliver a sound beating. Dad’s handshake and grip were still firm and fatherly, despite the ravages of time.

“Very good, Peter!” Dad admired his handiwork on the naked cheeks. Red marks from the shaft of the crop decorated the arse. Yes, vivid red marks which betrayed the throbbing, burning pain Peter was feeling.

“Gosh, Dad. You haven’t lost your touch at all. My arse is killing me!”

“Language, Peter! Don’t make things worse for yourself. Now for the cane. I’m grateful you didn’t throw it away. But I need to find out if the old beauty still performs.”

The performance didn’t disappoint at all. That cane  always was a special one. Its loving, bitter caress was undimmed. Peter gasped and groaned as the cane slashed down, skilfully aimed by his disciplinarian father.  Dad criss-crossed the strokes, making a really sore impression. Peter wasn’t broken, but he sure was chastened. He would be a lot tidier in future!

“Fish, chips and chastisement every Friday!” Dad announced to Peter.

“Yes, Dad.”

“You’re paying, by the way. Think of it as your rent.”

_______________)

Story © 2012 by Rod Cayenne

Comments and masturbation welcome

Part 2 is available now – click here

The Velvet Underground

I dare say that there are a lot of fans of The Velvet Underground band here at The Canery.  Their proto-punk and early grunge influenced whole generations of musicians from David Bowie onwards.  Their first album featuring not only Lou Reed and John Cale but Nico as well, is regarded as a classic.  We’ve all been thrilled by the song “Venus In Furs” with lines “Taste the whip, In love not given lightly” and its evocations of shiny black leather boots.  Well, I have at least!

Ah, but how many of you know where the band’s name came from?  No, it wasn’t an Andy Warhol inspiration.  The name was from a discarded book found in the street in New York.  The book was the sensationalist exposé of fetish and sexual perversion, “The Velvet Underground” by Mike Leigh.  For many years copies were hard to find and commanded a premium, just because of the association with the perennially hip band.  No longer!  If you fancy a giggle, this tacky sexploitation book has been re-issued and is available from your local bookshop or online retailer at a very reasonable price.  However, the joke soon wears thin, so don’t expect a re-issue of the sequel “The Velvet Underground Revisited” anytime soon!

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Mother-in-law Knows Best – Part 2 (F/M)

Erotic fiction by David Stewart

Part 1 is here.  Now read on for Part 2:

Two months later David was due in Glasgow on business.  His wife asked, “Where are you staying?” and as David hesitated about which hotel she added, “Let me arrange your accommodation”.  That night she telephoned her mother and during this said, “Anyway Mother, David is up on business next week and I thought he should stay with you so you can keep an eye on him for me.  He will be busy most of the evening doing stuff for me anyway but will be company for you.”  David’s ears pricked up at this.  “Surely not?” he thought.  It was not discussed further.

The night before he left that his wife asked, “Have you got your lines jotter?”

David said, “Surely not, as I am staying with your mother?”

“She knows David, she knows, and I think it will help your humility a bit anyway.  I also should tell you mother and I have discussed at length how we each deal and dealt with our spouses and much as I was surprised I can understand her thinking, so be prepared.”  The conversation ended there.

David started to dread that stay as he was acutely embarrassed by the previous incident and more fearful than ever of his host.  The previous thrashing had never been discussed, although when daughter and mother spoke the question, “Are you still keeping David in check?” was always asked.

The arrival at his Mother-in-law’s house was just after 6pm.  After a kiss on the cheek he was told, “You are in the upstairs back bedroom David. I believe you have a ritual with my daughter and that has to be maintained. You can write in the drawing room as I will also be working.”

The ritual was a text asking if he could write his lines. These were 200 lines of “The more I stay away the more lines I will write.”  He then had to send a further text asking, “Do you wish me to write more lines Ma’am?”  Depending on his behaviour, her mood or whatever she would text back a line and number, usually 200 more to ensure he was kept busy all evening.

David changed and received confirmation of his 200 lines and went to the drawing room, sat and commenced his lines.  He was aware that his mother-in-law was watching frequently and after an hour she sat opposite him, doing some work of her own.  David felt acutely embarrassed about doing the lines and often found his mother-in-law smiling at him.  He instantly lowered his head when this happened, and, he was sure, blushed a deep red.

His lines complete he sent the next text and the message came back saying “200 lines ‘I must accept discipline in my mother-in-law’s house as I would in my own home.”

His mother-in-law asked what the text said.  She smiled when the contents were revealed, remarking, “Very apt!”

They stopped for a meal just after 8pm and David continued to write till 10.25pm.

His mother-in-law inspected the lines and made comments about the number already in the jotter and pressed him on how he felt about lines as a punishment.  She was rather picky, checking the lines.  She discovered several errors and commented, “I don’t know if my daughter accepts these but I would not. You need to learn punctuation, spelling and proper grammar, my lad!”

She also confirmed David’s discipline had been discussed at length.  This embarrassed him acutely.  He had to admit that he found lines rather cathartic in nature and accepted his more submissive role to his wife as “part of our lifestyle.”  He accepted discipline as “a necessary part of maintaining their relationship.”  It was often a painful experience but he found himself talking openly to his stern mother-in-law.  He felt drawn to her.

The fact she had confessed to thrashing his father-in-law over the years made David think “Like Mother like Daughter.”  

During the chat she was no longer as dismissive of David.  She was interested in what he had to say.  David felt more at ease with her than ever before.  That would change.

They had a glass of whiskey as a night cap and David spoke to his wife on the phone shortly after to say goodnight.  His mother-in-law then asked to speak with her and the short conversation ended with, “Do you wish to tell him, or should I just go ahead?”

The phone was handed back with “Your wife wishes to speak with you.”

“Now David mother is going to be using the hairbrush on you so I want you to be respectful and treat her as if it was me. Do you understand me?” David said he did and the conversation ended with his wife saying, “And I think you have always wondered what she would be like thrashing you so now you can find out first hand.  I think you are in for a fright!”

Mother-in-law, although not privy to the conversation, smiled almost sarcastically at her son-in-law.  He was nervously anticipating his fate, as he hung up.

At 11pm it was announced that it was time to retire and matter-of-factly his mother-in-law said, “I expect you to come to my room at 11.15 in whatever you wear to bed.  Knock and wait.”  She then left the room.

David changed into his shorts and T shirt and wondered exactly what awaited him, although he had a reasonable idea.  He knocked at the allotted time and got a “Wait!”  It was five minutes before the door was opened.

“What did the line you wrote tonight say?”  He repeated it for her.  “Good I am glad you have learned it, now come over to the bed and bring that hairbrush with you.”

David took the hairbrush that was on the side of the dressing table and handed it to his mother-in-law.

“This was what I used on your wife for many a year and often she cried real tears over my knee.  Your father-in-law also suffered the same fate and now you are about to as well.  Now take your pants off for me,  and your top.”

David automatically did as he was told, rather like a robot.  He had an embarrassing erection.  His mother-in-law smiled and tapped his cock with the brush.  “A common reaction, but one that I will soon make you lose!  Now what do we say?”

“Alison I deserve to be punished, will you do it please?” A rhetorical question if ever there was such a thing he thought.

“Certainly I will, David,” she said with a wry smile.  David was taken over her knee and the hairbrush, so familiar to his wife, smacked down rapidly.  The strokes came in rapid succession and every one burnt  David’s rear.  He was well used to being thrashed but this seemed harder and he was soon in real agony!  He wanted to shout out that he was sorry.  For what he did not know, but it felt like the right thing to say.

The spanking over, David was told to stand in the corner, hands at his side, while his mother-in-law tided the room.

“Now David you may retire but I expect you to be washed and shaved and knocking on that door for 7am sharp for a repeat session.  You will be naked when you do so.  Oh by the way, there had better not be any silly stains on my sheets OR ELSE!”

David could not sleep but he left his stiff, throbbing cock alone.  He was well trained.

Showered and shaved it was right on 7am when he knocked on the door again.  He was called in immediately.

This time his mother-in-law was dressed in her business suit and ready to leave for work. This vision caused him to have an enormously humiliating erection and the sight of the brush displayed on the bed made him even stiffer.

“Right then David, we will complete this today and from now on any time you stay with me you will get the same, whether your wife is with you or not.  My house, my rules and my discipline.  Understood?” 

David shyly said, “Yes Alison.”

“I believe in disciplining males and I think you need it.  But first I wish you to go to the bathroom, get some tissue and come back here.” David did so and when he returned the brush was in his mother-in-law’s hand.

“Now David I want this to be a proper lesson.  We’ll do it the way your late father-in-law was used to.  I want you to play with yourself till you cum into the tissue. Start now please!”

David started to do as he was told, feeling humiliated and confused.

“You see this brush is far more effective when one has no sexual lusting for it.  The pain it provides is doubled when the balls have just been emptied.  Today I am going to spank you very, very hard with this brush.  I am going to send you home to my daughter with an embarrassing tale to tell her.  You my boy are going to be broken today and from now on I think my daughter will be doing this as well!”

At that David’s cock spurted cum and the tissue was filled.  David felt totally humiliated.  His mother-in-law  laughed.  He feared what was to come.  With no sexual inclination at all, he felt every bit the naughty lad about to be spanked hard.

“Now David, I think you have something to ask?”

“Yes Alison, sorry but I deserve to be spanked.  Will you do it please?”

She sat down and covered her knees with a towel had David over in a flash.  Soon the brush was working its very special magic.  David could not contain himself and long before it was over he was shedding real tears. The brush kept landing viciously, blow after blow.  His mother-in-law never appeared to tire of it.

“Naughty boys get a good spanking!  Shout all you want David!  This is just what you need and are going to get until I see you are learning to behave.  Now you’ll see what a spanking is all about!”

Eventually the spanking stopped and he was allowed to stand.  “You see David, at heart you are all just little boys.”

David replied, “Thank you, Alison.”  The pain in his bottom was severe.  Never before had he been punished after having spent his semen.  It felt different,  more like a real punishment.

She picked up the phone and called her daughter.  She handed the phone to David.  On the other end of the phone his wife was almost consoling and said “I knew what was going to happen.  I’m sure it did you good.  If my memory serves me well, that brush will have left a real message.”

“Yes Ma’am it has,” David admitted.  The call ended and he handed the phone back to his mother-in-law.

“Now David, go to that drawer and bring me what you find.”

In the drawer David found a crook-handled cane.  He winced, dreading what was to follow.

“This is what I keep for special occasions, when the brush is not enough.”

”Bloody hell!” David thought to himself.  “When the brush is not enough?”

“I have never needed to use it frequently as it tends to focus the mind, once introduced.”  He started to have some more admiration for his late father-in-law.  “If you ever deserve this then you had better be ready for some serious discipline, David, because I can make any grown man behave with this. Would you like to sample it now?”

“No Alison, sorry, please not now.”

“Ah, so you wish to sample it some time?”

“No Alison, not really thank you.”

What a magical sight Alison was in her business suit, flexing the cane.  Unfortunately, it was beginning to turn David on.  He had another erection!  Even more unfortunately, she noticed!

“How dare you show such disrespect in my company David?  I have just thrashed you hard and long and you show signs of this!” at which she tapped the tip of the cane on his cock.

“You will get a taste today after all!  Now over to the bed!  Bend over and hold on.”

David moved over, his erection now going.

“This is a taste of what I am sure will follow.  Six strokes for now but just consider what thirty six be like!”

The cane was tapped on his bottom and then lifted and the sound of a whapp followed by a stinging pain that exploded and pushed David forward. He yelled loudly and was almost immediately hit with the second stroke. “Ah shit!” he exclaimed.

“Tut tut, David!  We’ll start again.”

David took six more burning strokes of the cane which made him cry like a little boy.  Unlike his wife, her mother was very vocal when using the cane. “You need this David,” WHAP…”I will teach you to be respectful!” WHAP… “You may find the idea titillating David, but I assure you the reality is far from it,” WHAAAP. “I could make your father-in-law shed tears.  He feared the cane and so will you!”  WHAAAAP!  He was used to his wife caning him, but this was something different.  The cane looked thicker and darker, or perhaps it was the experienced hand of the chastiser that was making the difference…

“Stand and face me David!  Not so aroused now are we now?” With his head bowed, David replied in the negative.

“I believe in discipline.  Men benefit from it. That is why you are going to do what I tell you now, are you not David?”

“Yes, I will, I will,” he eagerly stuttered out.

“Good.  Now you have two strokes left.  Please ask me in a nice polite way to give you the final two strokes as hard as I can.  Then it will be over.”

Obviously dismayed, and to the amusement of his chastiser, he said submissively, “Please Alison, please give me the final two strokes as hard as you can.”

“Really, is that what you want or are you saying that because I told you to David?”

“I am only saying it because you told me to Alison.”

“Good, that is how it should be!  Now bend back over.”

The cane was tapped then lifted and a voice said “This will give you something to think about!” WHAAAAP…. fire lit his already seared cheeks and he yelled long and loud, almost a wailing sound.

“The only way is through pain David and think what thirty six will be like, and with my daughter watching next time perhaps!”  Before he could respond another fearsome WHAAAAAP sound as the final stroke stung more tears out of him.

 

They parted for their two very different days.  David, with a contented smile, eagerly dealt with the business of the day.  He was even more eager to return to his loving wife.

He was indeed a very fortunate chap, even if the long drive home was uncomfortable.  “Would she really give me thirty six strokes with that cane?” he asked himself.

Were he aware of what the future held, then he may not have been so happy.  His wife and her mother were in discussions about the secret life of the marital home.

To be continued

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Story ©2012 by Dave Stewart

Boring Sunday – Part 2 (M/M)

Adult entertainment by Rod Cayenne

THE STORY SO FAR:  22-year-old Johnny has been caned by his father after moaning about how boring Sundays are.  Now, on the following Sunday, the two men meet again at the scene of the action.

Part 1 is here.

Now read on for Part 2:

It was Sunday again.  Johnny sat at the kitchen table, with his head in his hands.  Dad ruffled the lad’s hair and asked, “Well, what’s up son?  Is it your mum again?”

“No, it’s not her.  Although she hasn’t rung me this week.”

“Typically thoughtless of her.  It’s the caning, then?”

“Errr…”

“Come on, spit it out, lad!”

“Yes, yes, it was so weird.  Almost exciting, and I’ll never say I’m bored again.”

“Well, that’s one lesson the cane has taught you!  It’s OK, Johnny.  I understand.  Mixed feelings, eh?  I hated getting the cane, but it was exciting at the same time, no doubt about it.”

“Right.  It’s just kind of odd as today is Sunday, and I’m feeling kind of low and, er, how shall I put this?  Almost bored.”

Dad said nothing, but slipped upstairs and fetched the cane from the wooden storage box under the marital bed.  The box was kept locked as he wouldn’t want Johnny to find his well-thumbed porn collection and selection of anal toys.  Softly, he came down the stairs with the cane and returned to the kitchen.  Johnny’s head was slumped further down in his arms.  The lad seemed totally dejected.  Carefully, dad laid the rattan rod down on the table.  It made a small clattering sound as dad placed it down, even so.  Johnny raised his head up and saw the cane.  A smile crossed his face, briefly.  The cane’s appearance was not unexpected.

“Pick it up son.  Take a good look at it.  It’s hard to believe something so light can make such an impression, isn’t it?  Remember, it’s a genuine schoolmaster’s one so it’s seen a lot of action and a lot of tears.  Of course, we could always throw it away, if it’s upsetting you.”

“No, no, don’t do that for heaven’s sake Dad!”

Johnny caressed the cane and then swished it gently through the air.  He grinned and laughed, then rubbed his bottom.

“That’s more like it, son!  If you really want it again, you only have to let me know.”

“No, that would be too weird Dad.  Although, it’s kind of you to offer.  And, I can’t help thinking…”

“Yes, Johnny?”

“How that bitch has screwed up our lives!”

“Johnny!  Are you trying to provoke me?  That’s no way to talk about your mother!”

“Well, it’s true Dad.”

“Hmmm.  No remorse, I see.  Give me the cane, lad.  I think you need a gentle reminder.  And maybe a little excitement too, don’t you think?”

“No, Dad!  I mean it.  Everything I said about the cane.  It’s really just too weird.”

“You are trying my patience, son.  I’ve decided that this is what you need and you are getting another sixer, at least.  Now, bare your bottom for me!”

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t play games with me, Johnny.  Get your trousers down right now, or else!”

Johnny complied reluctantly, the brass buckle of his belt clanging on the stone-tiled floor.  The 22-year-old went to bend over the table again.  He felt incredibly foolish but maybe a little lucky, too.  His white Jockey Y-fronts remained in place, almost in defiance of his father.

Dad was having none of it!  He pulled the underpants down in a rough, purposeful manner.  The pants snagged briefly on his son’s growing erection.  Dad’s hands then wandered over the cheeks of Johnny’s manly bottom.

“Dad, what on earth are you doing?”

“Hey now, son!  Don’t you talk to me like that!  Let’s just remember who is in charge around here.  I am.  As you will soon be reminded!  Now shut up, if you know what’s good for you.  I’m just checking the marks from last time are gone.   Alright?”

“Alright, Dad.  Sorry!”

“Oh, you will be!  You certainly will be!  Now, no more cheek from you, unless you want extra strokes?”

With that, a resounding SLAP! hit the lad’s bottom.  Father reflected on how good that felt and made a mental note to dish out an over the lap spanking at some stage.  Johnny gulped as he heard his father swishing the cane through the air.

Submissively, Johnny thrust his bottom out, ready for the cane.  He wanted it.  He wanted to be beaten.  Hard and mercilessly.  Strictly and without forgiveness.  So hard that there would be absolutely no chance of boredom this Sunday.   But what happened next surprised him!

SLAP!  SLAP!  Dad’s rough right hand again slapped the inviting arse before him.  It was, after all, an invitation that couldn’t be declined.  In his pants, Dad felt his cock stiffening.  He massaged his son’s bottom and landed a couple more slaps, just to add to the lad’s humiliation.

“Six of the very best today, I think, Johnny!”

“Err yes Dad.”

“Count them out for me this time!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“One, Dad.”

SWISH-CRAACK!

“Owww, two Dad!”

SWISH-CRACK!

“Three, Dad, harder please!”

Father was surprised by this request.  Then he reflected that he could manage somewhat more severity, so he lashed the cane down hard.

“AARRRGH!  Four!”

“Well, you did ask for it!” his Dad chuckled, lashing down another severe stroke.

“Owww! Five, Dad!”

The sixth stroke slashed down diagonally in order to inflict maximum pain.  Sure enough, Johnny squealed delightfully!  His father smiled wickedly.

“You forgot to count, son!  The rule is two extra penalty strokes!”

Johnny gasped a little, but offered his buttocks just as submissively as before.  This was severe, but it sure was fun!

CRACK!  CRACK!  The bonus strokes hit home satisfyingly.  Johnny’s eyes were moist.  Dad adjusted his own trousers which had become uncomfortably tight.  Yes, Dad’s erection had grown and grown during the beating.

“Mmmm, that was just what you needed, I think Johnny.  Your attitude to your mother must improve.  As must your behaviour in general!   I think another caning next Sunday to drive the lesson home.  Perhaps a dozen?”

“Oh, Dad.  Yes, thank you Dad!”

“I shouldn’t tell you this, Johnny.  But after a hard caning, I always had to have a good, long wank.  It seemed to help.  Run along now!”

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Story © 2012 by Rod Cayenne.

Comments welcome.

Fucky, Fucky (M/F)

Erotica by Rod Cayenne

Graphic by Shaun – Creative Commons 3.0 Attribution

“Fucky, Fucky, Neil?”

I smiled and shook my head.  “Let’s have a look at the calendar, shall we, Yasuko?”

Every Friday on the kitchen calendar was marked with a letter, either F or S.  It alternated between the two.  The F Fridays stood for Fucky, while the S Fridays stood for Spanky.  Of course, there were often Fucky, Fucky days during the week, but Spanky, Spanky days did tend to be confined to alternate Fridays.

It so happened that this Friday was a Spanky, Spanky day.

I pointed at the bold S on the calendar.  Yasuko’s face fell.  “Spanky, Spanky!” I informed her, gleefully!  She obviously wanted some Fucky, Fucky but we had a rule that on Fridays it was either one or the other, never both.

She looked upset as I picked up my blue leather-bound notebook.  I turned to the page covering faults observed during the last fortnight.  I sighed and tutted as I read some of the faults aloud:

“Overspending, gossip, masturbation.”

Yasuko blushed and tried to look innocent.  It was wasted on me.  It had to be a hard Spanky, Spanky today.  “It has to be a hard ‘Spanky, Spanky’ today!” I informed her.  “Fetch the cane!”

I didn’t use the cane much.  Often a hard hand spanking or a session with my reddish brown leather spanking strap sufficed.  But not today!  Today I was feeling particularly sadistic and unforgiving.  The cheeks of my girlfriend would have to be beaten soundly by my faithful rattan rod.  It never, ever let me down.

“I said fetch the cane, Yasuko!”  There was a certain reluctance on her part.  That only confirmed to me that I had made the right choice in selecting the cane.  “Jump to it!” I ordered.

She returned looking sullen, holding the beautiful rod of correction in her sweet, manicured hands.   It was kept in a drawer of a dresser in our living room.  I oiled it regularly, to keep it supple and painful.

“OK, upstairs, and get ready for me!  No nonsense!”  Of course, there never was any nonsense when it was a day that I selected the cane.  No nonsense, just tears and pleading usually.

I climbed the stairs to our bedroom.  She was ready.  Submissively on all fours on the bed, with just her lace knickers on.  My oriental beauty!  I lowered her knickers and could smell a gamey, turned-on aroma.  Her dimpled arsecheeks seemed to beckon to my cane.  But first I ran my hard hands across her beautiful skin.  I couldn’t resist probing and teasing her neatly-trimmed cunt and her arse with my fingers.   Something was telling me to rim her rose, and I duly did so, tucking my crook-handled companion under my arm as I did so.  Joyously, my tongue found a heavenly home for a minute or two.  She writhed and thrust her arse in my face.  Oh yes!  Such depravity would mean extra strokes of the cane for her.  If only she knew!  She would find out soon enough…

I slashed the cane down on her cheeks.  She cried with pain as the correction hit home.  Oh yes!  Utterly sublime!  Every day I thanked my lucky stars that I had hooked this oriental treasure.  She worshiped her western man and took her punishment when it was due.  And it was due now.  Sadistically, figures were running through my head.  Six wouldn’t be enough, twelve neither.  Eighteen, twenty, twenty-four?  Cry for me, my oriental queen!  Cry and sob as my cane bites and stings.  Cry with pain and cry with pleasure!

My penis was also playing games.  It stiffened and ached.  It throbbed and begged for release, just like my oriental beauty.  For once, I felt some Fucky, Fucky would be appropriate on a Spanky, Spanky day.  It could even be the start of a regular  new arrangement…

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Story © 2012 by Rod Cayenne

Graphic by Shaun – Creative Commons 3.0 Attribution

Comments welcome

The Ingénue

The ingénue  is a stock character in literature, film, and a role type in the theatre; generally a young woman who is endearingly innocent and wholesome. Ingenue may also refer to a new young actress or one typecast in such roles. The term comes from the French adjective ingénu meaning “ingenuous” or innocent, virtuous, and candid. The term may also imply a lack of sophistication and cunning.

Typically, the ingenue is beautiful, gentle, sweet, virginal, and often naïve, in mental or emotional danger, or even physical danger, usually a target of The Cad; whom she may have mistaken for The Hero. Due to lack of independence, the ingenue usually lives with her father or a father figure (although in some rare cases she lives with a mother figure). The vamp (femme fatale) is often a foil for the ingenue (or the damsel in distress).

The ingenue is often accompanied with a romantic side plot. This romance is usually considered pure and harmless to both participants. In many cases, but not all, the male participant is just as innocent as the ingenue is. The ingenue is also similar to the girl next door archetype.

In opera and musical theatre, the ingenue is usually sung by a lyric soprano.

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Borrowed by Rod Cayenne from Wikipedia