Reclaiming Her Son
Reclaiming
Her Son
It was
a normal Saturday morning in the Adkins' residence. Martha, a single
working mother with one teenage boy, was using the morning to catch
up on her housework. She had started shortly after dawn, but had
avoided the bedroom area to avoid waking Henry, who preferred to
sleep away his Saturday mornings.
Finally
she heard him showering. Later Henry found her to announce that he
would be off to the mall to meet with friends.
She
received no “good morning” hug from Henry, and knew better than
to try. As it was, she was happy that he shown her the courtesy of
saying where he was going. And then, as usual, he was gone for the
day.
Or so
she thought.
-------------------------
Martha
was worried about Henry, worried that she was somehow losing him.
Since the dawning of his teen years, he had often seemed remote. He
wasn't a bad boy, he wasn't openly disrespectful, he didn't get into
trouble, but neither was he the loving and close son that she craved.
However,
the last few weeks had been worse than normal. Clearly something was
bothering Henry, but he wouldn't discuss it. She had tried, but just
couldn't find the right opening to start a conversation with him.
Some of
you might think that Martha was being overly sensitive, or perhaps
behaving like an over-controlling “helicopter mom”, or that Henry
was understandably trying to “cut apron strings” as normal teens
do. But Martha had reason to worry. In Henry she saw his father
Dennis, her only husband. That marriage had started out as young
marriages do, in a sexual blur. However, eventually sex wasn't
enough, and she found that Dennis habitually erected barriers to true
closeness. After Henry's birth, those barriers widened.
After
Henry arrived, Dennis switched jobs in favor of one that required
travel. Over the next two years, he simply drifted away. There
never was a divorce, Dennis just gradually stopped coming around.
Fortunately Martha had a job, because eventually Dennis even stopped
sending money. When she tried to sue for child support, she
discovered that her husband had vanished with no forwarding address.
That left Martha unsure if she is still married or a widow!
Having
lost one man from her life, Martha was deathly afraid of losing
Henry, who was all she had left.
-------------------------
By
recent standards, that morning's encounter with Henry had actually
been pleasant. Hoping that he would have a good day with his friends
and perhaps return in a talkative mood, Martha pitched into her
housework with a will. Between wash loads, she ran the vacuum
cleaner. That darn washing machine was slow, so it set the pace for
her entire morning. When it finally finished the second load, Martha
realized that she hadn't collected the next load of dirty clothes.
Not wanting the machine to sit idle, she grabbed an empty basket and
rushed towards her most dependable source of dirty clothing, Henry's
bedroom.
Holding
the ungainly basket while turning the doorknob was awkward,
momentarily distracting her as she and the basket finally squeezed
into the room. She had actually advanced several steps into the room
before it dawned on her that she wasn't alone. Henry was on his bed,
stark naked. It had been years since Martha had last seen her son
naked, but his impressive erection instantly reminded her how close
he was to adulthood.
Had
Martha not been momentarily distracted as she opened that bedroom
door, she might have heard the noises that Henry was making and not
entered. But she thought he had departed an hour ago!
Henry,
of course, was even more distracted. In fact, it was clear to Martha
that her son was just a few strokes from orgasm.
Henry's
dilated eyes caught a nearby movement. He paused and struggled to
focus his eyes on the unexpected intrusion.
Mother
and son were simultaneously horrified at their encounter! Given time
to properly think, Martha might have handled the situation
differently. As it was, she simply backed out of the room with a
mumbled apology, closing the door behind her.
-------------------------
A long
silence ensued, with Henry closed up in his bedroom and Martha
sitting in the kitchen wondering what to do next. Finally, deciding
to take a chance, she knocked on his door. “Henry, can I come in
for a minute?”
She
heard a sound from within. It wasn't a “NO!” so she took it for
an invitation and entered. To her relief he was dressed, to her
consternation he was in tears.
He
spoke first, “I'm sorry Mom, but I can't help myself.”
She
spoke second, “I'm sorry son, but I thought you were gone.”
He
replied bitterly, “I meant to go, but decided to … you know …
instead. I guess you're mad at me now. I've wanted to talk to you
about this for a long time, but was too ashamed.”
Her
face relaxed, but carefully she didn't smile, “You know that what
you were doing is perfectly natural for someone your age...right?”
“None
of my friends do it, not one of them. But I can't seem to stop.”
She
spoke carefully, enunciating every word, “Your friends are liars,
every one of them. What you were doing is called masturbating. It's
perfectly normal, especially for a boy your age. This is just your
body's way of preparing itself to be a lover, a husband, and
eventually a father.”
She
changed tactics, “Do you admit to your friends that you
masturbate?”
His
eyes widened, “Never! I would be the laughing stock of the
school.”
She
allowed herself to smile, “And now you see why your friends also
lie.”
“So,”
he breathed with relief in his voice, “You're really not mad? It's
been two years since my last spanking, but I really thought that's
why you came back into my room.”
“Look,”
Martha explained, “If you were spending so much time masturbating
that it crowded everything else out of your life, then that would be
a problem. But as a practical matter, that doesn't happen because
you would soon be too sore to continue. So no, I'm neither surprised
nor mad at you.”
-------------------------
Amazingly,
that led to the first relaxed conversation that Martha had had with
her son for the last several months. Finally feeling that she
couldn't pass up this opportunity, she asked, “Henry, something has
been bothering you lately. Was it masturbation that was worrying
you?”
A cloud
passed over his face. “Err, no. Um Mom, when you walked in on me,
I thought about getting dressed and then running out of the house.
But then, I decided to stay so you could spank me about two things
and then I would have everything off of my mind.”
“First,
I'm not going to punish you for masturbating. But can we talk about
that other thing that's bothering you?”
“You'll
want to punish me.” he warned.
“Let
me decide about that Henry. Just spit it out and then we'll both
feel better.”
He
spoke to the floor, “Okay, remember that class field trip a few
weeks ago?
“Yes,
what about it?”
“Well,
that's not what it was. Actually Greg Roberts and I skipped school.”
She
looked confused, “But I signed the form”
He
blushed, “That was fake, printed up so I could scan your signature
for the fake sick note.”
Martha
was momentarily speechless, but Henry rushed on, “Greg got caught.
He wouldn't give up my name, so his father busted his ass. He
couldn't sit for two days! I already felt bad about what I did, but
what happened to Greg just pushed me over the top. I've wanted to
tell you, but just couldn't put it into words. So it was easier to
avoid you.
”
“Let
me get this straight,” Martha said carefully, “You lied to me
about a class field trip as part of a scheme to cut classes for a
day?”
“Yea
Mom, that's about it, and it wasn't even fun! We couldn't hang out
in public because school was in session, so we had to kinda hide out.
That made it a boring day.”
“Well”,
Martha said, “Your masturbation is our little secret, but this
other thing is a big deal. You know that I'll have to punish you for
that...right?”
Sadly,
he nodded.
-------------------------
It had
been over two years since the last time she had spanked Henry, and he
had grown since then. In fact, he was undeniably bigger and stronger
than her. So they had a long talk about him “taking his punishment
like a man” and cooperating with the punishment that he agreed he
had earned
.
So
finally she passed formal judgment, “Henry, I'm going to spank you
harder than I ever have before. It's been a couple of years, but
surely you remember the procedure. Go to my room, but leave the door
wide open. You'll find the hairbrush in the Punishment Drawer. Get
it out for me as usual. And then I want you to undress. This time
you will remove everything! After that, stand in the usual corner.”
Lovingly
she made one small concession, “You may keep your underpants on
until it's time for your spanking, but then they come off too. No
arguments...right?”
Thankfully,
he agreed. And then Henry made the sad trek to the master bedroom.
-------------------------
That
bedroom was normally Martha's private place, but that's where she had
always taken Henry for his spankings. Two years since his last
spanking, Henry felt odd being in his mother's private haven. All
evidence that Martha had ever been married had finally disappeared.
Since her life was devoted to raising her son, there had been no men
in her life. So this bedroom had become a feminine place, smelling
of powder and perfume, decorated in pinks and ruffles.
An old
dresser was Henry's first destination. Ever since he had graduated
from hand spankings, a small center drawer in that dresser had been
known as the “Punishment Drawer”. He opened it, and saw the
original paddle that his mother had used on his little bottom. It
was the kind that once had a ball tethered to it. The ball was long
gone, but that light little paddle remained in the bottom of the
drawer.
Also
the drawer held a somewhat more substantial paddle. This was a
novelty item with a cartoon picture on it and the words “Heat for
the Seat”. That paddle could impart a surprisingly vicious sting.
But when Henry was about twelve, he had tried to resist a spanking
in an attempt to convince his mother that he was too tough for her to
spank. Martha had responded by halting that punishment in mid-spank.
She had made him dress and then accompany her downtown, where she
purchased a heavy hardwood hairbrush. And then she took him home and
finished his punishment. Even today, he still had great respect for
that hairbrush. Unhappily he lifted it from the drawer. Today it
would see use for the first time in some two years.
With
the hairbrush gone, he could see further into the drawer. Way in the
back was a thick coiled man's belt. Henry gasped and shivered at the
sight. This was new! Was his mother thinking of using it on him?
Was that belt a silent threat? One thing was sure, he wouldn't ask
his mother about that belt! Just in case she had forgotten about it,
he wouldn't risk reminding her.
It felt
funny to undress in his mother's bedroom, but his orders were clear.
Always before, she had simply made him lower his pants and underpants
for punishment. But today she had clearly told him to remove
everything, relenting only temporarily on the matter of his
underpants. He wondered about that change in his mother's spanking
procedure, but knew it was better to strictly obey orders.
Wearing
only his underpants, Henry put himself into a corner that hadn't seen
his nose for the last two years. His heart thumped in his chest.
Blood rushed noisily through his ears. Now he could only wait...and
think.
-------------------------
Hands
shaking, Martha sipped a cup of microwaved tea. Her head spun with
mixed emotions. On one hand, she honestly deplored spanking her son.
On the other hand, the more she thought about what he had done, the
angrier she became. Worse, the boy could easily have gotten away
with his stunt if his own sense of guilt hadn't derailed him
.
But
another part of Martha wanted to sing! Moments ago she had feared
that she was losing her son. Now she realized that she had seriously
misinterpreted his behavior. Far from repeating his father's
behavior as she had feared, Henry was merely doing the usual dumb
things that teenagers do. Yes, he must be punished. But after that
punishment, she had hope of reclaiming her son. Perhaps the
experience would bring them closer?
Well,
she could hope.
Temporarily
leaving her tea, she quietly walked to her room.
As
expected, the door was wide open. She was relieved to find that
Henry had obeyed her instructions to the letter. The hairbrush was
on the bed, his clothing was piled semi-neatly on the floor. Wearing
only his underpants, he stood in the corner
.
She
spoke, “We both need time to calm down and to think. So do some
corner time while you think about what you did wrong. Perhaps more
importantly, think about what lesson you will learn from your
punishment. I'll look in on you from time-to-time.”
And
then she went back to her tea.
-------------------------
Martha
stared at a few rogue tea leaves floating in the bottom of her
rapidly cooling cup. As she did, she recalled the vision of her
mostly-naked son standing in that corner. Before sending him to her
room, she and Henry had agreed that he would submit to his spanking
“to the best of his ability”. Frankly, Henry was now taller,
heavier, and stronger than her. If he decided to rebel and refuse to
be punished, there would be little that she could do about it. If
that happened, it would cost Martha her parental authority over
Henry, a price she wasn't prepared to pay. Thus, Martha was careful
to reason with her son and to obtain his agreement before announcing
his punishment. However, given his obvious guilt feelings, gaining
that agreement wasn't hard.
Her
rear view of Henry had been startlingly different from her memory of
the last time he had filled that corner, some two years ago. Her
“little boy” had greatly matured over the last two years. He was
taller, more filled-out, more muscular. In every dimension, he was
growing into a man.
Well,
it was probably more accurate to call him an almost-man, an
almost-man who definitely needed a spanking!
Also
different this time was his attire. Last time he had occupied that
corner fully clothed, except that his pants and underpants had been
lowered to his knees leaving his boyish bottom on display. But
today, that bottom was the only area of him that was covered. But
that was a temporary situation!
Why had
she decreed that he be nude for this spanking? Well, it goes back to
that “cooperation” thing, and actually had little to do with
humiliating or shaming him. She wanted him to be constantly reminded
that he was voluntarily and totally submitting to this spanking. To
her, that meant submitting whilst holding nothing back. Therefore
Henry would offer himself with nothing that might get between his
bottom and that hairbrush.
She
checked the time. She wanted him to have a full hour of pre-spanking
corner time, but there were fifteen minutes to go. She craved a
glass of wine, but settled for a second cup of tea. As she waited,
she wisely rehearsed coming events in her head, seeking flaws in her
plan. She was wearing slacks, which seemed perfect for the job, but
she did think of two small issues, and decided on small changes to
prevent them.
-------------------------
As
Martha entered her bedroom, she released Henry from his corner. He
turned to see her heading straight towards her dresser. His mouth
turned dry as he watched her open the “punishment drawer”. Was
she going for that belt? To his relief and puzzlement, she extracted
his old “Heat for the Seat” paddle, which hadn't seen use since
he was twelve.
She
explained: “It's been a while since I spanked you, and you've
gotten bigger and tougher since then. I don't know if my hand is
still up to the job of properly warming your bottom for the
hairbrush, so this might help.” Dumbly, he nodded.
Next
she asked him if he wanted to use the bathroom. Wisely, he said “yes
ma-am”
.
She
pointed him towards her en-suite bathroom. “Hurry. Bring me a
bath towel when you're done”.
She
heard him pee, and then flush. Bath towel in hand, he emerged to
find his mother sitting on the edge of her bed. She accepted the
towel and spread it across her lap. She didn't explain, but the
towel was to provide a bit of physical and psychological distance
between her thighs and his soon-to-be-bared groin.
Then
came a short pre-spanking discussion: “You lied to me, and then you
broke school rules by skipping class, and then you lied again by
submitting that fraudulent sick note. That could be three spankings!
However, assuming your cooperation, one hard spanking will do.
After that, as far as I am concerned you will be forgiven. However,
you'll still have to face whatever punishment your school decides on.
I'll talk to your Principal Monday morning.”
Henry
frowned at that last part, he had hoped that his school wouldn't be
involved, but after a moment's reflection he made no objection.
Then
she asked him what lessons he expected to learn from his punishment.
From past experience this was an expected part of his mother's
punishment routine, so Henry had a satisfactory answer ready.
And
then Martha asked him one last time to affirm his promise and
determination to “Take his punishment like a man” and to
cooperate to the best of his ability. His mouth dry and his heart
racing, the boy agreed to “do his very best.”
Martha
scooted back on the bed, making her feet come off the floor. “Okay”
she said patting her lap. “Let's finish this unpleasant business.
Take your underpants right off and then climb up on my lap.”
His
brain in a protective fog, the boy obeyed, lowering his underpants,
stepping out of them, climbing up on the bed and then crawling across
his mother's lap. His body was supported at both ends by the bed,
taking some of his considerable weight off of his mother. The towel
felt odd against his semi-erect penis.
“Grab
a pillow,” she ordered, “wrap your arms around it and bury your
face. This is family business, so the less the neighbors hear the
better.”
-------------------------
Following
her normal spanking pattern, she started with mild but slowly
escalating warm-up spanks, using just her hand to rain mild slaps all
over his buttocks. She carefully “staked out her territory” by
spanking every square inch of those firm hillocks to a mild pink
patina. Then, according to her usual pattern, she moved down to his
“sit spots” to do the same.
Of
course, she had Henry's undivided attention! So when she continued
on down to the backs of his legs and his outer thighs, this signaled
something that Henry had already suspected; this would be a severe
spanking. For lessor offenses, she normally left that part
unspanked.
Then
she stopped momentarily to inspect her work, ensuring that she had
left no part of his bottom unspanked. Finally she resumed anew,
starting at the beginning and spanking each area in turn, only now
she spanked slightly harder, methodically leaving each area pinker
than before.
By now,
Henry was leaking a few tears, but was barely squirming in response
to the spreading warmth in his bottom. But still, the boy seemed
truly contrite. He repeated what was to become a mantra throughout
his punishment, “I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry mom.”
After
Martha had completed the fourth round of spanking Henry's muscular
bottom, he was definitely squirming and his bottom was blooming from
pink to red. The problem was, the palm of her hand was stinging as
much as his bottom was. Fortunately, Martha had anticipated that
problem. Picking up that light paddle left over from Henry's “tween”
years, she continued his “warmup”
.
His
gasps and increased squirm assured her that this treatment was
getting to him. Her first “round” with that paddle was only
moderately hard, but the second round was applied full strength, and
was intended to make him “break through” into real tears.
It
worked! His shoulders shook as he shed tears into her favorite
pillow. His apologies continued despite his tears, “I'm sorry mom,
I'll never lie again”. Belatedly Martha realized that she should
have protected that pillow with a towel to catch Henry's tears, drool
and worse. She shrugged, “too late now”!
As she
attacked his legs and thighs with the paddle, Henry started to lose
self-control. His right hand left the pillow and drifted back
towards his bottom. That wasn't a problem because he couldn't reach
the area that she was spanking. However, he bent his legs at the
knees, temporarily protecting the target area. She paused, and then
spoke reasonably but firmly, “I'll help you restrain your legs in
just a moment, but I must finish this area first. If you'll help me
for just a moment by keeping your legs down, I'll be finished with
everything below your sit spots and I won't need to use the hairbrush
down there. Can you do that for me?”
He
agreed to try, He lowered his feet back down to the bed and then
visibly braced himself for the attempt.
She
raised the paddle and let fly to the area just below his sit spots.
He shrieked, “Owwwww!' but gave no serious interference as his
mother lashed the back of his upper legs, and as much of his outer
thighs as she could reach. As his kicks exposed inner thigh, she
even got in a few licks there. Soon that lower area had been
“toasted” to her satisfaction.
She
stopped, critically examined her work, and then warned Henry, “Okay
get up for a moment. No rubbing because we're not done. Understand?
Still
sobbing, he nodded his head in the affirmative, so she helped him
slide his feet off the bed and down to the floor. Apparently
oblivious to his exposure, he danced a bit. His hands strayed near
his bottom, but she gave him a sharp look, silently reminding him
that it wasn't yet okay to rub the sting from his bottom
.
Her
voice firm, she asked, “Are you thinking about the lesson you are
learning?
”
“Yes
mom”, he sobbed, “And I'm really sorry! I'll never do that
again.”
Her
voice was soft yet firm, “Good Henry, I'm glad to hear that this
terrible experience won't be wasted. It's time for the serious part
of your punishment now. Can you take it like a man?”
He
seemed to consider a protest, or perhaps a last-second appeal, but
the combination of his guilt and his pride answered for him, “Y-y-yes
mom”.
“Let's
get you positioned then.”
This
had happened before, so he knew what to do.
-------------------------
She
slid herself closer to the edge of the bed, spread her thighs,
readjusted the towel, and then pulled Henry over her left thigh,
using her right leg to trap both of his legs. Automatically he
buried her face in the pillow and then put his right hand into the
small of his back so his mother could restrain it.
With
Henry firmly locked down into place, Martha sighed before picking up
the hairbrush. Brush in hand, she examined the already-red target
area, noting that Henry was clenching in unhappy anticipation.
Surprising herself, she paused to reconsider.
Was she
really doing the right thing? Was it possible that she had already
spanked him enough? She was sorely tempted to call off the rest of
his punishment. What finally decided the issue for Martha was
thoughts of Henry's obvious guilt feelings. Oh sure, Martha could
forgive her son, but if she didn't give him the punishment he
expected, would he forgive himself?
“Okay
Henry” she said quietly, “Hang on because here comes the worst
part.”
He
sobbed and stiffened in response.
Her
temporary doubts resolved, she used that potent hairbrush quickly and
decisively, leaving marks calculated to deliver a reminder each time
he sat down for the next couple days. The room resounded with the
noise of hardwood repeatedly impacting his firm male flesh. He
bucked, bawled and howled.
But
then it was done.
-------------------------
Twenty
minutes later, his tears were mostly dried. He was too big to curl
up in her lap, but not too big to hug his mother and cry into her
shoulder. Forgotten, his underpants still lay on the floor. Martha
noticed, but saw no reason to mention it.
Once he
stopped crying, the spanked and forgiven boy wanted to talk, and that
certainly suited Martha.
For
now, she had her son back again. And for now, that would do!
posted by guy at 9:13 PM
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