Chapter 20 - Jack
Jack had tried for weeks to bring his mother to a point were he could make an advance toward her, and she would respond by giving him some signal to proceed, as it were. However, nothing he tried had any success at all, and he was becoming frustrated and even angry with his mother. Subsequently, Jack's mother Leslie found him stewing in the kitchen.
Leslie had come from the backyard, bringing in the washing. She was wearing a sleeveless light summer dress that reached to halfway to her knees.
"What's with you?" she asked her son, as she could see his black mood.
"Nothing, forget it, you wouldn't understand," Jack told his mother angrily and he turned his attention to the washing, looking for his clothes.
His face dropped and he said to himself, 'not again, shit, how come she always does this and with my stuff?' Jack had found one of his white tee shirts and it was now pink. His mother had washed it with something red and the colour had run, and his tee shirt was suffered.
"What's this?" Jack asked his mother angrily, holding his tee shirt in his fist and shaking it.
"Oops," was all his mother could manage with a smile.
This angered her son even more.
"Oops is all you can say? You're ruined another tee shirt of mine, and all you can say is oops?"
Leslie could see her son was angry, but didn't seem to care at all.
"Yep, what else do you want me to say? Anyway there's nothing you can do about it now, it's done."
And Leslie smiled sweetly at her son, and continued to fold the rest of the washing. Jack fumed because this had begun happening a few weeks before camp. She had never been like this before; she had always been so careful to do all things well. However, it seemed at over the last couple of months, his mother would ruin or stuff-up something. Some of his meals were ruined, or Jack would find he would have no towel when he came out of the shower, and he would have to get one for himself. Then there were the times she had 'forgotten' to pick him up, and it could be uni, or from the cinema or anywhere. On a number of occasions his mother had left him stranded late at night, and he had to walk miles home. It was really starting to grate on him, and this was not the morning for one more incident.
"Nothing more I can do about it? That's not fair," Jack thundered, "if it had been me, I'd be punished. So you have to be punished just like me." He told his mother angrily.
His mother looked haughtily at him.
"Oh yeah, what are you going to do? Send me to bed without dinner, send me to my room or make me write lines or something?"
Leslie asked stilling looked haughtily at her son.
"No, but I think you need a good spanking."
Jack told his mother bluntly and Leslie blanched a little. He had never spoken to her like this before.
"I beg your pardon young man; you don't talk to your mother like that."
Leslie had spoken with her 'serious mother's voice'. However, Jack was really angry now, and all his good manners were out the window.
"Fucking bullshit! You fuck-up and you get punished just like me," Jack thundered at his mother and stood up to push his point.
Leslie stood like any shocked mother, with her mouth open, but when she spoke Jack heard something else.
"Don't you speak to your mother like that, and who said you could use such language?"
Yet, rather then thundering back at her son, Leslie had spoken very weakly and very breathy, as if she was struggling for breath, because she was so shocked. Jack wasn't sure what was happening here, but he felt he was in a dominant positioned and pressed on.
"I'll speak to you how I like because you fucked up and you need a good fucking spanking. How come here," Jack moved to grab his mother's arm.
To his surprise she didn't move, but Jack could see his mother was breathing heavily and fast, as if she was frightened. He grabbed her high on her left arm and began to pull her out from behind the kitchen table, and he was going to take her into the dinning room. Leslie continued to rebuke her son, but made no attempt to remove his hand.
"Jack stop this, I'm your mother, you can't treat me like this, stop it, stop it now," she ordered of her son.
"Yeah, well maybe after a good spanking you won't fuck my washing up any more."
And Jack pulled his mother into the dinning room and to one of the dinning room chairs, with the high back and no arms. He stood next to the chair and Leslie tried weakly to pull away from her son.
"Now Jack stop alright, it's gone far too far but it stops now. Please Jack stop it."
Ignoring his mother and still a little enflamed, Jack sat on a chair pulling his mother across his knees, using his strength and weight to pull her down. Jack held his mother down with his left arm across her upper back, and he thought his mother would have fought far harder then she was, but Leslie was pleading with her son not fighting.
"No Jack stop it, you can't spank your mother. Please Jack let me up, don't spank me I'm your mother."
Yet, Jack was excited now; he couldn't believe he had his mother held down like this. Leslie wasn't even trying to protect her bottom with her hands; they were wrapped around her son's left leg. As Jack looked at his mother's bottom, which he was about to spank, he saw her dress was just covering her panties. He brought his right down on his mother's bottom, not too hard, and there was an audible 'thack.' Jack couldn't believe the sound that emanated from his mother, rather then a scream or cry of pain or indignation; it was a cross between squeal of delight and a moan of pleasure.
"Jack don't, don't spank your mother, please don't spank me."
Then it hit Jack like a ton of bricks. His mother was enjoying this. This is what she was into; so now Jack knew how to proceed and he hoped this would be his story for The Clan. His mother had been sending him signals; he just didn't expect them to be these sort of signals. The ruined meal, the not picking him up, it all make sense. His mother was just wired differently to the other mothers, and he hadn't read it. This is what she wanted with her son, and she had been trying to provoke him into action. What a dickhead he'd been. Now he wanted to hear the real 'smack' of a spanking, not the dull 'thack'.
Jack spanked his mother again, and this time a little harder and her response was just as he hoped. Leslie squealed louder with a groan mixed in, and her body squirmed a little.
"Oh Jack stop, don't spank me, I'll be good."
Those last three words gave him the assurance he was allowed to go to the next level. Jack now pulled his mother's dress up and over her bottom to expose her white cotton panties.
"Oh no Jack, don't show your mother's panties Jack, you shouldn't, it's rude for a son to show his mother's panties. I'll be a good."
Leslie pleaded, but it only served to stimulate Jack even further, and he spanked her panty covered bottom a little harder.
Leslie squealed and groaned, as her body seemed to convulse just a little. She continued to groan, even though Jack had paused. She still didn't try to protect her bottom with her hands. Jack spanked her again, and it produced a resounding 'smack' and Leslies' squeal-groan transformed.
"Oh, oh. Jack please don't smack your mother. Ooooh Jaaaack. Mmmm, Jaaack don't show your mother's panties, someone might see."
Jack saw an opportunity to advance yet again.
