My Mother - My Lover
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2017 by Bobspanks

Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Two adults tossed into a unique living situation; the mother is a problem, the son is strict. To discipline or not to discipline? Sometimes strict control can lead to other things besides a very sore bottom.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Coercion   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Mother   Son   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   Humiliation   Rough   Spanking   Anal Sex   Enema   Oral Sex   Pregnancy   Water Sports   Small Breasts   Caution   Transformation  

I could have probably handled some of this differently, in the end it all worked out pretty well. I became more relaxed about Evelyns’ behavior; she started to take advantage of that. She’d started drinking more and more; she was very sneaky about it and, had changed her pattern. I was sure that things would change sooner or later and it would be for the worse. This was maybe four months after I’d made the paddle. I was pretty sure the paddle would be used to attempt to correct this problem, when it needed correction again. Other than those five original whacks, it hadn’t been used at all.

There had been a few little spankings, just to keep Evelyn in line; nothing much as punishment goes. Sex with my mother just kept getting better.

One thing I didn’t know about was my mother’s battle with on and off constipation. Most of the time, with normal sex, she was pretty ‘regular’ although she did take laxatives occasionally. When it became too much of a problem; which it sometimes did, there was the need for a suppository or an enema. She’d made a habit of giving my sister and I both as kids; either a warm soapy enema or a small soap suppository. Now, she was on the receiving end of these and not always by her choice. I re-introduced enemas to her along with adult sized Ivory Soap suppositories over time. She didn’t mind the enemas [even though they were given by me] and were necessary sometimes. The suppositories could be very uncomfortable; they burned a little when inserted, retention wasn’t easy or pleasant and, along with burning some on the way out – they caused a violent bowel movement which [depending on how long she’d been constipated] could leave her tight little rectum pretty sore.

When it became time to use the paddle for real, the first time, the reason came from an unexpected direction. The other problems took a back seat to this.

For some unknown reason Evelyn saw a need for money...cash in hand. She had a small bank account and, since the divorce, had received a small monthly check from my father. He was good about dropping it off [on time] every month. I bought everything needed for the house, paid all of the bills and even bought things she wanted or needed. There was no reason for her to take checks out of my checkbook then forge my signature to try and cash them. A friend of hers had taken her to two branches of our bank to cash them. The one took a little time to get back, the other one [that she tried to cash at our bank] was refused payment and the teller had kept it. That’s when the branch manager had tried to phone me.

That’s when Evelyn had erased that message, along with a few others, from the answering machine. It was a week before the manager had a chance to talk to me in private and that, was only by chance. I’d stopped in the bank to deposit a customer’s check on the way home. After the talk above, my mother was in trouble...again. I saw it as a senseless and stupid thing to do. Irrational is probably a better word. Especially when she could have just asked; I’d have had no problem giving her some extra spending money. The main headquarters of the bank [even though it was a smaller one] had over reacted in the way they wanted to handle things. My anger took a back seat to what was about to happen; Evelyn was in trouble now.

The conversation went something like this: Branch manager - “The teller called the main bank and asked what she should do with a check that was a genuine forgery. I was at lunch; she called, they got wind of it and told me how to handle it.” He went on about how much he liked Evelyn very much and was sorry he couldn’t do anything to help her out. She’d gone back to using her maiden name. Since the main bank didn’t know us, they didn’t know that we were related and lived together. They just ran with charging her on principal. The bank had filed some charges; Evelyn wouldn’t be arrested due to the nature of things but, she would go through being fingerprinted and having mug shots taken. There were four charges, minor but she would still have a criminal record. There would be a hearing with a local magistrate in the future and at least some fines to pay.

I told him that it was okay; Evelyn had caused the problem all by herself. She would just have to suffer the consequences of her actions. Although we’d had a few talks about it; Evelyn had no answer about why she’d done it. This made it even more frustrating to me. I didn’t tell him but, the magistrate was the least of her worries. She knew that she was in some serious trouble with me and, sooner or later she would be punished. For a period of two weeks our life went on as usual; this was always in the background though. I was more disappointed than mad at her – this didn’t change things. She just couldn’t give me an answer about ‘why’ she’d done it. I picked an evening to have a talk about it, sat Evelyn down and got real serious. By then she understood what was going to happen [with the bank] had become very apologetic and remorseful but, knew that her biggest problem was going to be me. By the time our little chat was about half over, that was cast in cement.

It began by me explaining that, since only the bank was filing charges, there would probably only be probation and some fines to pay. Since she didn’t have much of a bank account; I’d be the one paying the fines. We didn’t know how much yet but, I was positive that it wouldn’t be pocket change. With the amount of money involved, all but one charge was considered a misdemeanor. That one charge, if the local magistrate felt like it, could be kicked up to prosecution by a higher court. I didn’t want to see that happen.

The day that we went through everything with the police, we found out about three of the fines for the charges involved. It was in excess of four thousand dollars. Forgery was forgery, period and it was a federal offence. Since the bank had filed charges, this would take some work to resolve. We wouldn’t know anything until the hearing but...I’d looked up what the fine ‘could be’ and it was about $250,000! Unlike the ‘size’ of other things, the amount of the forgery didn’t matter.

The day of the hearing there were a few people in the magistrate’s office but not many. Evelyn, I and two officers from the bank were there, along with an attorney. I talked to them before the actual hearing; by then they were aware of our relationship and that I wasn’t going to press charges. During the course of the conversation I explained that I would also be handling things on a ‘personal’ level with Evelyn. The bank didn’t seem to want to back down on anything. They were a small local bank; they seemed to want to make a big deal out of this. When our turn came – for our case to be heard – the atmosphere became very serious. Once everything was heard, from the end of the bank, the magistrate addressed my mother directly. It was quite a lecture! Of course he knew that Evelyn wasn’t a hardened criminal [the exact opposite] she had just simply really screwed up and, done a very good job of it. There was no need for us to have an attorney, there was nothing to argue, she’d done the things and admitted it. I was going to try and lessen things but, Evelyn would accept the consequences of her actions.

My mother’s demeanor, during the hearing, had something to do with how things were handled. Evelyn was the perfect picture of someone who was contrite and showing a lot of remorse...it wasn’t an act.

While our case was going on there had been more people arrive. Once his lecture was over and he’d told us that the decision would be within a few days; I asked to speak with him in his office, in private. He agreed; the one bank officer, along with the attorney, joined us. I began by explaining that my mother had a history of causing some problems. Never anything like this but a lot of ongoing problems that disrupted anything close to domestic tranquility. I explained further that, this led to my father throwing her out then divorcing her; that’s how she’d come to live with me. Evelyn cringed as I explained her drinking problem, some other problems and explained that, although I tried to have some control over her behavior, I couldn’t be with her all of the time. “In the recent past, without the legal system becoming involved and, with business being handled on a more personal level [before banks became so large] a problem like this would have been handled between the bank and the customer...on a domestic level...in the home.” When he questioned me about this – in a serious way – I gave him an answer that was also serious and truthful. “No matter what the court decides as ‘just’ punishment; Evelyn is facing some old fashioned domestic discipline at home.” I didn’t have to elaborate. Judging from the ages of the people in the room, they understood exactly what I meant. By then my mother was wishing that she was on a different planet.

He went on to ask, “Are you positive that this ‘domestic discipline’ will be carried out?” I assured him that it would, adding, “It will begin just as soon as we know what’s involved with charges and fines.” Then, addressing my mother, he asked, “Ms. Franklyn, do you accept and agree to what your son is talking about?” she answered ‘yes’ in almost a whisper while nodding her head. “In that case,” he continued, “I’ll add a note to my official decree stating that some ‘alternative’ punishment will be handled in a ‘private’ way, by a family member. Now, everyone but Mr. Johnson please leave.”

Once the room was cleared he asked me, “What exactly do you have in mind? I’m pretty sure what you mean but I want to hear it from you.”

“I know, from past experience both while growing up and recently, that domestic discipline works very well with my mother. It restores order and adjusts her attitude as well as her way of thinking...at least for a while.”

“Yes, I understand, what specifically are you talking about; I want to hear it from you and, what you tell me will not go on the court record.”

“Corporal punishment,” I answered, “nothing nasty or overly harsh; nothing to cause any lasting damage to her. My mother has been punished in different ways over the years. While I haven’t thought all of the details out with this problem; it will probably be grounding for a period of time plus a combination of spanking and a few well given paddlings, over the course of the session.” I then added that, “Being confined to the house and, with all of her privileges taken away, combined with a few days of sitting not being possible, would have a much bigger impression than the money involved in a few fines. She has a very limited income anyway; I’ll be the one paying the fines.”

He wholeheartedly agreed with my last statement. There was also an offhanded comment that, “This may be the first time that fines would also come out of someone’s backside.”

His clerk called a few days later. Evelyn didn’t erase the message on the machine. I was asked to drop by the office and pick up the documents when I had the chance. Everything was simple, all we had to do was follow the enclosed instructions; there was no need for another hearing just to hear his verdict. I picked up the envelope the following day but, didn’t look at it until dinner that night. Once we’d eaten I opened the envelope at the table then just passed the papers across for Evelyn to read. Once she’d finished, I took the papers back and read through them. It was all very simple; a few words did stand out. ‘Alternative punishment’ ‘Home based discipline’ ‘Domestic discipline’ ‘Not to be overly harsh to go so far as to be considered abusive [the need for care by a doctor or hospital]’

Guidelines for judicially ordered punishment.

There would be a blanket fine of two-thousand dollars; the bank had agreed to accept the ruling. There would be a period of ‘probation’ [for the felony] charge not to exceed one year. Evelyn would be considered placed in my ‘custody’ for that period of time. There would be, due to the bank’s change in attitude, no appeal for them. The ruling was considered closed and finished. My mother now had a minor criminal record and a probation officer. Not to mention a custodian.

After reading the papers I told her to clear the table, clean things up in the kitchen, wash the dishes then go to our bedroom. “When I come up later, I’ll expect to find you standing in a corner; with that skirt bundled up around your waist.” There was no answer; she simply obeyed me to the letter. Obedient but not a bit happy about the next day.

I took the paddle to the garage and gave it another coat of oil.

When I went upstairs I sensed that Evelyn was under the impression that her punishment would start that night. I wanted at least one good night of sex before the actual punishment started. It was still early and the next day was Saturday; that would be the first day for it. I told her to strip completely and join me in the bathroom. By the time she did, I was finished making a warm soap suds enema and, just about to fill the bag. She watched as I finished then, hung the bag and syringe from a long hook in the shower door. When told to she knelt on a towel I’d placed on the floor then, folded her arms and rested her head on them. I explained [while lubing her rectum and the nozzle] that she was going to be given a full gallon of the enema solution; then she would ‘hold’ it until I told her to use the toilet.

I knelt beside her, eased the nozzle in and then, opened the valve on the hose. There was a little gasp; a long moan then more moaning as the solution filled her bowels. Some cramps got a few squeals of discomfort – when this happened I’d stop the flow long enough for her to relax. There was a lot of noise from her bowels as the enema worked its way deep into her. There was some discomfort from the full gallon of solution filling her which eventually ended. This was replaced by more cramps, the overwhelming desire to use the toilet and her difficulty retaining the enema. When she became almost panicked, I helped her stand then gave permission to expel the enema. While she emptied herself I started a clear water enema then hung the bag back up.

There was no conversation until we were in bed. I held her for a while, we started normal foreplay but tonight, using her natural lubrication, I gave her little rectum more than the usual attention. My mother was very tight; even just my middle finger, pumping away slowly while probing around inside of her, had her gasping and wiggling around. We would have normal sex in the beginning then, after a while, she was going to lose her anal virginity once and for all.

There was no further discussion; that was simply the way it was going to be. I planned to be gentle but firm with her...this was going to happen.

The first thing I did was to ‘torture’ every inch of her body with my lips and tongue. I may have found some new sensitive areas along the way. When I returned to her inner thighs ( by then she was on fire all over) slowly moving up them then to her pussy lips and on to her clit, she exploded in an orgasm. Evenly screamed her way through it then slumped on the bed, exhausted.

I found out that she’d only had about a dozen orgasms in her life. During the first week of [our] sex she’d had right about eight. I don’t know the reason – I’d like to think it was me, doing my ‘job’ – whatever the reason they all seemed to be violent ones. The screaming, kicking, twisting, flailing kind, that make you glad that the neighbors don’t live right next door.

I’d cheated on this one. At just about the right moment; when her back was arched very hard, her legs were locked around my neck and she was about to go over the edge...I wiggled my finger around her rectum then buried it in her while turning the fingertip up inside. That’s when Evelyn lost her mind.

I got my arms around her and rolled us to our sides. She was still shaking like hell all over, trying to catch her breath and moaning like crazy. As she started to calm a little and after a lot of very wet kisses, I told her to roll onto her stomach and put her legs together. Her only reply was a little, “Oh...” As I straddled her then moved into position; I put some lube on me and a little more on her rectum. Evelyn asked me to please take it easy on her and I’d agreed to do that. Then, pushing the head of my cock firmly against that little puckered hole, I penetrated her. I felt her puckered hole open as the head went in, Evelyn jerked like hell, started to squeal and put her one hand back to push on me. I told her to relax as much as possible and push like she was going to the toilet. I didn’t stop but slowed my penetration. As I kept slipping my cock in it felt like she was becoming a little looser. Her squealing continued until after I’d buried myself and stopped. She started to complain that she had to have a BM; I explained that the feeling was normal for most people; it’s a side effect of anal sex. I then withdrew slowly, until only the head of my cock was inside...hesitated for a few seconds then filled her again. There was more squealing gasping and heavy moaning as I started a nice slow fuck. It had to be the tightest hole I’d ever been in! As things worked out; just about the time she started to get raw, I was on the edge of an orgasm. All it took were three or four good deep thrusts and I exploded in her; slowly pulling out while my cock was still hard.

We cuddled for a while and talked; relaxing and playing just a little. Evelyn did admit that it had been painful in the beginning but it got easier, just before she started to get raw. I’d just sodomized my mother and loved it...she’d come to accept it over time.

Crime and Punishment The next morning I awoke to some major morning wood. We were in the spoon position, Evelyn with her back to me; I’d been jammed into that little crack separating her cheeks. Once I found the lube and slicked my cock up good, I eased between those cheeks again, found her little puckered hole and began a slow penetration. Evelyn woke up slowly but not quietly, as I slowly stretched her open again she started squealing like hell! With my arms around her, she could wiggle and jerk around but that was about it. I held her tight and started a nice slow morning fucking.

Once breakfast was finished it was time for a little talk. I’d had ample time to think about things and had it well worked out. This would be a lazy morning, followed by a painful afternoon for Evelyn...her first day of being grounded again and, her first paddling in a long time. She was grounded for a month with no exceptions. That day, as well as the next, she was going to be paddled as the beginning of her punishment; she wouldn’t want to go anywhere for a while anyway. She would also be given little ‘reminders’ in the coming weeks. The paddle was going to see some use now – probably a lot of use in the next few weeks.

Around ten in the morning we had a surprise visit from her probation officer. The woman was in her mid thirties, fairly attractive and a little overweight. I was under the impression that we had to go see her. She explained [over coffee] that she’d be coming here, her visits would be random, always a surprise. It got her out of the office and out of town. The three of us talked for a while as the process was explained. There would be some changes in our lifestyle; mostly for Evelyn. As her ‘custodian’ I had certain things to do too. She was curious about some of the wording in the decree from the magistrate. My mother wasn’t exactly thrilled to sit there and listen to us discuss her punishment over coffee. When the question arose about the paddle I sent Evelyn to get it. She didn’t like doing that but, doggedly, she obeyed me.

When my mother placed the paddle on the table she [the probation officer] was a little shocked at first...she got over it. A few minutes later she asked Evelyn if there was going to be a problem with her taking the punishment. Her only reply was a negative shake of her head. The woman handled the paddle, ran her fingers over it then asked why it looked so new. I explained that I’d just made it a few months ago - in anticipation of using it for another problem. Now it would be used for this. I also explained that, other than a little demonstration, the day it was finished, it had never really been used...yet. Looking directly at my mother she asked, “That must hurt like hell?” Evelyn agreed with another nod then said, “It stings...it stings like fire.”

 
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