Saturday, May 07, 2016

The Mother-In-Law Supper

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© Guyspencer 2016
The Mother-In-Law Supper

After a promising courtship and first few months of marriage, George Murphy had turned out to be a suboptimal husband. Over the months of his courtship, he had pursued and wooed his now-wife with a single-minded purpose that had convinced everybody that he was great husband material. Looking back, perhaps folks had been blinded by his huge paycheck and his fast climb up the corporate ladder. Now, a year into marriage, Lane Murphy had come to fear that she was merely a trophy wife. She wouldn't yet admit that she regretted marrying George, but it was close. More and more, she leaned on her mother for emotional support.

Lane had reluctantly agreed to not work, but now she felt trapped at home. She had come to feel that George treated her more like a mistress or a concubine than as a wife. He would arrive home, expect the place to be spotless, expect a sumptuous supper followed by an evening of wild sex, and then disappear for days as he traveled on business or worked so late in his office that he simply slept there. Fortunately there were no other women in his life. He worked so hard that he had no time for them! The real problem was that George's job was “the other woman”.

Simply put, George was a great provider but a terrible soul mate.

Fortunately, George wasn't a totally unreasonable person. So even he understood that marriage involves certain responsibilities, things like accepting an invitation to dinner at his mother-in-law's house. Lane had asked him at an advantageous moment, and had received an unenthusiastic “yes”. So she had called George's secretary to officially schedule it. Truthfully, neither of them really looked forward to the evening, but Lane's mother wasn't a woman who was easily ignored!


Mary Sykes had raised Lane as a single mother. Lane's father had died when she was only eight. For reasons never explained, Mary never remarried, and never allowed herself to become “serious” with any one man. However, she kept an admiring and fluid group of admiring boyfriends! Call it what you will, but Mary's choice of boyfriends had something to do with their everyday usefulness to her. She almost always kept at least one plumber and one carpenter in the mix, and another regular was an excellent handyman who owned a truck. One of the group was even a lawyer.

We might call these guys “boyfriends” or simply “friends”, but the relationships always resembled friendship more than courtship. Lane never knew if her mother was intimate with any of them, (nor did she really want to know) but Mary certainly didn't screw the whole group!

So Lane grew up with this casual group of men around the house, giving her several male role models to choose from. There was little jealousy between the men. Sometimes two or three of them showed up for a weekend barbecue, or worked together on a repair project somewhere in the Sykes house. It was a symbiotic relationship. The men did things for Mary and Lane, and were happy to receive friendship, togetherness and food in return.

Throughout Lane's college years, and through the first year of her marriage, she had detected no change in this pattern. Her mother lived alone, but kept her little group of useful and friendly men, always keeping them at arms length.


On the appointed day of supper with Mary, George dutifully arrived home just in time for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Then they drove to Mary's house.

Mary met them at the door with a big smile. She gave Lane a motherly hug and kiss. Her greeting for George was slightly more restrained, but still friendly. The house smelled delicious! Lane detected the aroma of cooking beef, plus the unmistakable perfume of homemade bread in the oven.

Mary settled them in the living room, and poured wine. George smiled weakly at the sight of her cheap Trader Joe's Chardonnay, but he sipped it without protest. Mary excused herself to make final preparations. Soon she called Lane and George into the dining room. The main course was beef brisket, which must have simmered for hours. It was melt-in-your-mouth fantastic! Lane squirmed, hoping that George wouldn't compare this masterpiece to her own modest culinary efforts.

Somewhat to Lane's surprise, her mother started talking about one of Lane's childhood spankings, and how much good it had done her. Lane had told George that she was spanked growing up, so she was only mildly embarrassed at the story.

But then her mother continued, reminiscing about other times that she had spanked Lane in the process of raising her. Always, she mentioned how each spanking had solved some behavior problem and made Lane a better person. Lane squirmed, and tried unsuccessfully to change the subject. George listened politely. Sensing Lane's discomfort, he asked no questions and did nothing to encourage this line of discussion.

During desert, Lane finally spoke up. Her mother had brought up the most embarrassing, and the worst, spanking that Lane had ever had. This was an incident that George didn't know about!

In that tone that daughters use with their mothers, Lane tried to stop her mother, “Mother! Puleeze!”

Mary raised a finger, “Believe it or not, I'm not daft. I have a perfectly good reason for bringing this up, so just trust me.”

That left Lane with no choice except to listen to a story that she would much rather forget:


That incident had happened shortly after Lane's sixteenth birthday. Mary had reluctantly allowed car dating, but only under very restrictive rules; double dates only, authorized destinations only, and no side trips. “No side trips” meant “no lover's lanes”.

So imagine Mary's surprise to receive a knock on the door when Lane had supposedly been at a movie with a boy and another couple. She opened the door to find a police officer with a bedraggled and frightened-looking Lane. The police officer explained that he had found Lane “unclothed and in a compromising position” in the back seat of a car parked at a well-known lover's lane, along with the boy she was supposed to be watching a movie with. There was no sign of the expected second couple.

After sharply sending Lane to her room, Mary had a quiet talk with the policeman. Blushingly, he explained that he had shined a flashlight into the car, to find Lane half nude and with her boyfriend similarly unclothed and “ready for action”. Thankfully, the officer was of the opinion that the couple hadn't “achieved penetration”, but only because he had intervened. Also, the officer noted that the boy was wearing no “protection”. That really shook Mary because Lane wasn't on the pill!

Mary thanked the officer profusely. He left, seemingly happy to leave this embarrassing situation in Mary's hands.

After a delay to calm her nerves, she called Lane downstairs for the inevitable confrontation. By now the girl had changed into a nightgown. She was quite shaken, having realized how close she had come to losing her virginity and to possibly becoming pregnant.

To her credit, Lane held nothing back. She admitted everything. There never had been any “second couple”, nor any movie. They had hung out at an A&W drive-in until dark, and then had gone to park in a private place. Fortunately the inexperienced couple had chosen a well-known lover's lane that the police regularly checked. The police officer intervened in time to prevent a possible catastrophe.

“What were you thinking?” Mary asked plaintively, “It seems that you did nothing right tonight. You lied to me, you violated rules that we had agreed on, and then you put yourself into a compromising position. You were about to have sex without the slightest protection. You know that you can get pregnant after having sex just once, right?”

By now, Lane was beyond trying to minimize the damage. She could only “throw herself on the mercy of the court”.

So wisely, Lane highlighted her only favorable point, “I did one thing right tonight mom, I learned a big lesson. I almost screwed up my whole life. But now I'm still a virgin, but a smarter one. I'm truly sorry, I know I have punishment coming, but I promise this will never happen again!”

So they hugged, and then cried together. Finally Lane said, “Mom, it's okay to punish me now. Should I fetch the hairbrush?”

“I'm sorry honey,” Mary said regretfully, “But we need more than just the hairbrush. You've just earned your first taste of the belt Missy!”

So Mary told Lane where to find the belt. From previous experience, Lane already knew where to find the hairbrush. The belt had been her father's. Mary had saved it for this one purpose, hoping the need would never arise.

Lane returned to the living room with the dreaded items, where she found that her mother had closed the curtains.

“OK,” Mary said ominously, “You undressed for him, so now undress for me.” Lane had always been spanked on the bare. Always before, simply baring her bottom had been sufficient, but today her mother demanded more. So Lane lifted her nightgown and then pulled it over her head. Nervously, she removed her panties. She hadn't bothered with a bra, so that left her naked.

With no males living in the house, Lane's temporary nudity wasn't a big deal. Lane and her mother often saw each other in various stages of undress. However, her coming punishment certainly was a big deal! Lane's stomach churned as her mother positioned a chair and then sat, ominously brandishing the hairbrush.

Automatically, Lane stood next to her mother's right thigh. Mary pointed to her lap, so Lane obediently positioned herself. What followed was among the worst spankings of Lane's young life. The girl squealed and bawled as that nasty hairbrush repeatedly visited every bit of her formerly white and flawless buttocks and thighs. When it was over, poor Lane was exhausted and breathless, yet inconsolably bawling. All she wanted to do was hug her mother and cry into her shoulder.

It was hard for Mary to remind her distraught daughter that her punishment wasn't yet over. Telling her that it's “best not to delay,” she led the naked, red-bottomed and sobbing girl to an easy chair, and then laid her over its wide padded arm, presenting Lane's bottom for its first taste of leather. Lane buried her face into the chair's cushion, muffling her sobs and absorbing her tears.

Mary wrapped the belt around her palm to adjust the length, and then essayed a few practice swings into empty air. She pushed firmly between Lane's shoulder blades to hold her down, raised her right arm high, and let fly with the belt. Mary was inexperienced with a belt, so that first swat didn't connect well. Lane jumped, but was apparently little hurt.

The ensuing whipping wasn't severe. It consisted of perhaps ten swats, of which only half connected well enough to make Lane jump and shriek. However, those few swats left welts that Lane would feel for several days, and were sufficient to convey Mary's message to her!

Mary held Lane, allowing her to “cry it out.” They sat together for a long time. Finally Mary led the still-nude girl to her bedroom, and tucked her in for the night.

As it turned out, it had been a lesson well-learned by Lane. From then on, she dated responsibly. Even though her mother insisted that she keep an “emergency” condom pack in her purse, she had no use for them thru her high school years. Lane didn't take her virginity to the marriage altar, but she did keep it long enough to give it to her future husband, George.

That incident had been the only time that Mary had ever had reason to use that belt on Lane.


So over desert, Mary related the entire story. Ignoring Lane's blushes, she left out no detail. As he absorbed the story, George looked at mother and daughter with new respect. Everyone fell silent for a few minutes.

Finally Lane asked, “OK Mom, now will you tell us what this is about?”

Ignoring the question, Mary poured coffee all around. She carefully ensured that nobody was drinking when she asked, “Lane, did I ever tell you that I spanked your father a few times? It saved our marriage.”

Both Lane and George looked at Mary incredulously!

Lane screeched, “Whaaaat?” But then she back-peddled, “Um mom, maybe I don't really want to know.”

Mary held up her hand, “But this is the whole point of the evening, to show you how useful spanking can be. You see, at first your father had trouble remembering that he was married. It was a classic problem. He would stop at a bar on the way home, get talking to his friends, and be gone for the evening! Well, he faithfully promised he would change, but then did it again. That time he was so contrite that he offered to submit to a bare-butt hairbrush spanking if he ever did it again. Well guess what? Within two weeks he was bare bottom across my lap! That wasn't the last time either, but it was the beginning of the end of our marriage troubles.”

“But mom,” Lane asked, “Why do we need to hear this?”

Mary looked pointedly at George as she answered the question, “Because someone in this house needs a spanking.”

Lane looked from her mother to her husband, and then back to her mother. She scooted closer to George before asking, “Um mom, what's going on here?”

Mary answered with a question to George, “George, as I understand it, your corporate role is as a 'project man'. You start new projects from the ground up, and then nourish and manage them, right?”

Feeling on safe ground, George replied confidently, “Yes, that's a good description. I'm very proud of my portfolio of projects. Each one has a positive cash flow and stands to make the corporation big money.”

“That's great George,” replied Mary, “And once you get a project going really well, do you ever just let it wilt and die?”

“That would be silly,” said George, “As long as I'm responsible for a project, I have to foster it constantly. That's why I'm so busy sometimes.”

Mary furrowed her eyebrows. Lane cringed, knowing that her mother was about to strike, but she didn't yet understand how or why.

“Well George,” Mary started, “You made quite a project out of wooing Lane. And at first you paid great attention to her. And then you made a project out of finding just the perfect home, and getting it perfect. I had great admiration for the way you did all that. What I can't understand now is, why are you allowing your marriage to die on the vine? You just said that as long as you are responsible for a project you foster it constantly. Aren't you responsible for your own marriage?”

George's initial answer was so defensive, that it seemed ridiculous even to himself, “I work hard to give Lane everything she needs. How can you ask for a better husband than that?” As he heard himself talk, his voice lost conviction.

Mary's answer was soft, “George, my husband wasn't around in those early months of our marriage because he liked to hang out in bars. Most folks call that a bad habit, not an addiction. But George, you are addicted to your job. You're different than he was. In a way, you are better than he was! But the situation is precisely the same because you aren't there for Lane. Increasingly she feels isolated. Yes, you give her many nice things, but you deny her the big prize. She needs a soul mate. She needs you! I really like you George, but if you want to stay married, you must change.”

Feeling trapped, George looked into Lane's shocked eyes, and saw immediately that the evening's events were as much a surprise to her as they were to himself. He asked Lane, “Is this true? Are you unhappy Lane?”

She started to deny it, to cover her emotions as she had been doing the last several months. But her mother knew her daughter! Mary warned her, “Lane, before you speak, think! Your entire future happiness depends on the truthfulness of your next words. Don't say what you think you're supposed to say, but speak from your heart!”

Lane took the last two sips of her cold coffee before speaking. She couldn't look him in the eye, so she stared into the empty cup, “Yes George, I'm unhappy. Increasingly, I'm desperate. I've never felt so alone. I want a husband who comes home at night and wants to be with me. Mom was right that I need a soul mate, but I want it to be you.”

But then unexpectedly, Lane started to round on her mother, “You know mom, you're way out of bounds here. This is private between George and I, and you certainly have no right to spank my husband!”

Surprisingly, George came to Mary's defense, “No Lane, Mary has made a point, and she has put it into language I understand. Further, she has a legitimate concern. After all, how can she be happy when her daughter is unhappy?”

He turned to Mary, “OK Mary, you have identified a problem that I obviously haven't paid sufficient attention to. Also, you seem to have a solution in mind, perhaps a rather drastic one. But let's give it a fair hearing.”

“You might call it drastic,” Mary replied, “But it's something that your own wife has faced several times growing up, and I think it did her a world of good. I like the way you are facing up to this problem, rather than denying it or trying to move the blame. Are you man enough to face the consequences of your actions?”

George tried to appear unmoved, but actually his heart was pumping so hard that he felt dizzy. “Okay Mary, I'm ready to hear your proposed action plan.”

“It's a plan that hasn't changed since I was a kid howling and kicking across my own mother's lap,” Mary explained, “You atone for your past neglect of your wife by dropping your pants and laying across my lap for a memorable dose of the family hairbrush. And then, after the smoke has cleared, we three will have a sober talk about the changes you need to make. We will set expectations and agree how to measure success. Does that sound fair enough?”

To Lane's everlasting surprise, her husband turned to her and said, “If I do this will you forgive me and then work with me to help fix things between us?”

“You don't have to do this,” Lane replied, “And we could still work things out.”

He planted a kiss on his wife's forehead, “You know I don't do things halfway Lane. I've screwed up, and Mary has suggested a way to make it right. I want to stay married to you, so it would be foolish to pass this up.”

He turned his attention to Mary. His voice cracked slightly, “OK ma-am, you're in charge. What do I do?”

Mary pointed to the middle of the living room, “Go fetch an armless chair from the dining room, put it right there for us”.

Feeling very alone, George obeyed. After placing the chair he stood, awaiting his next instruction.

In answer, she commanded, “Use the bathroom if you can. After that, go check the dresser in my bedroom. You'll know the hairbrush when you see it. Bring it to me.”

He simply replied, “Yes Ma-am,” and then departed. Shortly later, they heard a far-away flush.

Soon he returned, and respectfully handed the hairbrush to Mary.

“Before you undress,” Mary explained, “Remember that we're all adults, so we're familiar with male anatomy. We're here to spank you, not humiliate you. However, I need you bare at least from the waist down.”

A stew of emotions ran through George's head as he complied, methodically removing first his shoes, and then his pants and underpants. His tails of his expensive shirt hung low, so he doffed it. He was sweating, so he completed the job by removing his t-shirt. Naked, he stood expectantly before the ladies.

Mary looked at George with admiration, “You really don't do things halfway do you?”

He shrugged.

George's body looked like the disciplined young corporate warrior that he was. Thanks to careful eating and missed meals from working late, George was lean. However, with no time to spend in the gym, he lacked muscle definition. Even though he spent little time in the sun, his Mediterranean olive skin gave him an outdoor look. The overall effect was actually quite pleasing to the ladies.

It had taken effort for George to overcome the natural impulse to cover his rather impressive manhood, but he stood with his hands to his sides. A question occurred to him: “Ah Mary, you said we were going to have a talk later. After you use that hairbrush, I doubt that I will be thinking very clearly”

Mary snapped her fingers, “I should have thought of that! Let's touch on the high points right now, and then meet early next week.”

George agreed, “That sounds good.”

Mary paused to collect her thoughts, “George, somehow you must rearrange your life to include your wife. That means normally leaving your office at five like everybody else. I know that you must travel, but you could afford to bring Lane along most of the time. I suggest that she serve as your unofficial road manager.”

Forgetting the incongruity of his situation for a moment, George replied, “OK, the travel changes make sense. I could have done that all along. But how do I manage to leave my office so soon?”

“Do it the way everyone else does it George! You have the earmarks of a classic micro-manager. You need to either hire an assistant, or simply empower your people to make decisions, and then hold them responsible for results. If you improve your management to use the talents of your employees, you will have more time. You might even be able to manage more projects and make your corporation that much more money!”

“Okay,” George agreed, “You’re sounding like a management consultant, but that hairbrush doesn't fit the image. Also, consultants usually don't give me butterflies here.” (He pointed to his flat stomach.)

He straightened himself up, “I guess I'm ready when you are ma-am.”

In a slightly strained voice, Mary said, “Then apologize to your wife, and then join me at the chair. We'll get this over with.”

Lane stood to embrace her husband. He pushed her away slightly so he could look in her eyes, and then he apologized for neglecting her. Her response was to pull him back to her. They kissed for a long time.

Finally Mary cleared her throat meaningfully.

Clearly embarrassed, George turned. His attempt to cover his erection only made it more obvious. Seeing the cause of his discomfort, Mary spoke comfortingly, “Like I said we're all adults here. That's perfectly normal, so just forget it and come over here”. She patted her lap for emphasis.


Rather clumsily, George put himself across Mary's lap, simultaneously presenting his bare bottom for correction, and relinquishing all control over the situation. His brain too clogged to notice details, he hadn't noticed that she had spread her thighs well apart to make room for his temporarily rigid manhood. However, his nose was close enough to the ground that he could smell the dust in Mary's living room carpet.

Mary tucked the hairbrush behind her. “George,” she said, “The next few minutes may not feel like a kindness, but they are intended to be. You won't believe how much a hairbrush hurts on an unprepared bottom. So I'll warm you up with my hand.”

“Remember,” she said, “This is to atone for your past neglect of Lane, and to impress on you the necessity for change. If one spanking isn't enough to make you change your ways, I'll supervise Lane as she applies your next spanking. Are we clear?”

George's answer came from down near the floor, “Yes ma-am”.

“Okay”, she warned, “Grab those chair legs and try to not reach back.”

George's eyes jerked wide open as his bottom felt its first spanks ever.

At first, George absorbed the punishment quietly. His mind was virtually swamped by a potent mix of emotions and new (unpleasant) sensations.

Lane watched her husband anxiously as his bottom showed its first touch of color. She knew what a spanking felt like, but George didn't. She had no idea what to expect from him. Many possibilities occurred to her: Would he chicken out? Get angry? Take it stoically? Beg for respite? Get emotional?

Naturally, Mary also observed George's reactions as she spanked his tight bottom. She wasn't surprised to see him try to hold out, to ignore the sting, and to pretend that his emotions weren't bubbling to the surface.

Her palm was starting to sting when she felt him squirm for the first time. Shortly later, he made his first involuntary sounds, first groans disguised as grunts, but later sobs disguised as gasps.

Knowing that she was finally making headway, Mary upped the ante. Ignoring her stinging palm, she spanked harder and faster, raining spanks indiscriminately over his buttocks. That breached his defenses! He shouted “Oh no!” and then his feet lifted and started a swimmer's kick in response to the burgeoning sting in his reddening bottom. Mary watched his right hand closely as it released the chair leg to started drifting up towards forbidden territory.

“Okay,” Mary gasped, “Just this last bit and then we'll let the hairbrush do the work.”

Mary had previously confined her attentions to George's buttocks, but now she attacked his sit-spots. Not expecting this new assault, George bucked and responded with a sobbing wail. After only about two minutes of diligent work, the hue of that area matched that of his buttocks. And then she stopped. Now it was “hairbrush time”.

Lane watched with interest, and with a bit of discreet arousal. She had been spanked many times, but had never watched a spanking. Naturally, she had intimate knowledge of her mother's spanking routines. She noted that Mary was about to switch to her hairbrush, but that she hadn't yet touched George's thighs, implying that area would be spared the kiss of the hairbrush. She guessed correctly, Mary was granting that not-so-small mercy because George was a first-timer.

George was seriously concerned as he felt Mary moving her legs underneath him. Soon his weight was only on her left thigh. He felt something restraining his legs, which he only later guessed was her freed-up right leg. He heard her speak, “George, you're having trouble with that right hand. So just put it in the small of your back.”

His brain was so addled that he didn't know which arm was his right. It turned out that he could reach back with only one arm though, because the other was blocked by Mary's torso. So he obeyed. He heard her actually thank him, and then she gripped his wrist to immobilize it.

Mary retrieved her hairbrush. Wasting no time, she raised it high and let fly with a flurry of spanks to the meatiest part of his bottom. Shocked at the sudden pain, George bucked and shrieked. It wasn't easy for Mary to restrain him, but she managed.

Almost instantly, George lost whatever restraint he had left. He bawled loudly and unashamedly. Indiscriminately targeting his buttocks and sit spots, Mary took only moments to finish the job, leaving his bottom spanked just short of bruising.

Mary held George in place until his cries decayed to mere sobs, and then motioned Lane over. Taking the hint, Lane went to George and gently helped him up. She steadied him as he bounced and rubbed, and then sat him down for a long cuddle.

Mary tenderly wrapped her arms around the two of them. Once again, George apologized to both ladies, and all was well.

Finally Mary wrapped up the evening: “Lane, George wouldn't enjoy the trip home, so you two use the spare bedroom. I'll have breakfast ready in the morning. He took his punishment like a man, so be good to him. Doctor his bottom, and then make love to my favorite sun-in-law until his eyes cross!”

Lane giggled at that last suggestion, but it described her intentions precisely. But there was another reason for Lane's mirth, a secret that she hadn't yet shared with her mother. She hadn't told her mother because it was news that George had a right to hear first.

George and Lane felt like honeymooners as they took the short walk to the guest bedroom and towards their new relationship.

As they walked, Lane wondered: Should she tell him about the pregnancy test? Or did George already have enough on his plate for one day?

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© Guyspencer 2016


Blogger Kris Warner said...

Highly enjoyable! Hope you continue it so we can enjoy his reaction to the news and both of their inevitable first times spanking one another.

2:25 PM, May 17, 2016  

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