Prescott House Rules

This is a pure femdom spanking fetish story and is in a consensually grey area. It will contain no safe words at all and will not be too realistic, but pure fantasy material. Warning: This story contains a mother/son punishment spanking, not intended to be sexual in nature. Click away if this would disturb you. All characters over eighteen.

Prescott House Rules

Daniel was such a good roommate. He was truly one of a kind, especially as far as nineteen-year-old guys went. Ryan never had to deal with too much noise, or him coming home drunk at two in the morning, or even something as inconsequential as Daniel's dirty laundry all over the dorm's common room. He was tidy, considerate, smart, and quiet.

That isn't to say Ryan was a terrible guy himself. He was fairly well-behaved as far as university students went, generally preferring a good book or movie over parties. And he did manage to prioritize his education over his desire to play video games all night long. Usually. It was just that he was no Daniel, and he was keenly aware of that fact. If Ryan had half the discipline that Daniel had, he'd get A's instead of B's. He'd probably have a double major by now instead of still being undecided for even one major. Maybe he'd even be healthy-relationship material.

"How are you like this?" asked Ryan once. It was just during breakfast, when Daniel produced a spare carton of milk from the mini-fridge before Ryan even realized they were about to run out.

"Like what?" asked Daniel. It was like he really didn't understand.

"So perfect."

"I'm not perfect," he said. He sighed, looking a little shamefaced into his bowl of cereal.

"Yeah you are."

Daniel shook his head, but didn't elaborate. It should come as no surprise that Ryan's roommate was also a very private kind of person. He didn't tend to share much about himself, or what went on inside his head, or even anything about his family. Ryan didn't even know Daniel was raised by a single mother until she decided to visit him for Winter Family Weekend.

Just before the big weekend, Ryan heard Daniel being slightly rude for just about the first time all year. He was on the phone, whispering in hushed tones, "It's not really going to be that great, mom. It really won't be. Please don't bother driving all the way up here. Winter Family Weekend kind of sucks."

That was about as rude as someone like Daniel got, but considering the source, it surprised Ryan. Normally he'd go out of his way to make people feel welcome, and here he was trying to dissuade his own mother from visiting for the weekend.

She came anyway. Daniel wasn't particularly persuasive, as is typical for most shy guys. His mother set herself right up in their common room instead of getting herself a hotel room like all the other parents typically did. That was the first obvious sign that something was unusual about her. The second was that she insisted she be called Ms. Prescott. There'd be no first name basis for Ryan. It was actually amazing that Daniel called her

mom

instead of constantly calling her

mother

.

That weekend, Daniel became even more perfect, studious, and nice with his mother there watching his every move. It was instantly clear how he got this way. It was all her. She actually scolded him slightly, right in front of Ryan, for not washing his breakfast dishes immediately. He didn't roll his eyes or huff or anything, but just apologized quite meekly while taking them off to the sink. Ryan hurried his own to the sink too, just in case.

For a fleeting moment, Ryan was a little jealous of that. His own parents were busy people, and not very involved in his life or schooling. Maybe if they cared as much as Ms. Prescott,

he'd

be the one giving the Valedictorian speech at graduation.

Sometime after a big Winter Family Weekend trivia game in the Student Centre, Ryan realized there was more to how Ms. Prescott molded her son into one of the best behaved nineteen-year-olds on the planet.

Ryan had just gotten back to the dorm after trying (and failing) to start a paper he'd already been procrastinating on for far too long. Just as he put his backpack down, he heard Daniel's mother scolding him. From what he could tell from the low, harsh words, Daniel had been too short with her over a disagreement during the trivia game. He must have insulted her in some way, because she told him, "Don't you ever say that to me again, Daniel!"

Knowing Daniel, it really couldn't have been too bad, but Ryan suspected Ms. Prescott had very high expectations for her son. Whether deserving of his scolding or not, Daniel apologized profusely, and then begged in whispers. "Please, mom. Please... my roommate could come back any minute now. Please don't. I'm nineteen now, mom. Please!"

"I'm paying your way through university, young man. You'll still abide by Prescott House Rules until you've graduated, and that's final."

"Yes, mom," he said. This was followed immediately by a whimpering sound and some shuffling around. There was one more meek, "Please no!" And then Ryan heard the unmistakable sound of a spanking.

An actual spanking

, a hand or hairbrush or something similar smacking bare skin. Daniel was very quiet for his part, probably terrified of Ryan coming home and overhearing this shameful punishment. He felt appropriately bad for his roommate in this moment, but unfortunately it wasn't his only feeling on this matter.

This had been a fantasy of Ryan's for ages. Being treated like that, so harshly and strictly, especially by an older woman. Just weeks ago, he'd imagined up an entire daydream about his math professor spanking him for cheating on a test. Now it was actually happening, a real old-fashioned spanking. He assumed, anyway. It sure sounded like it.

He had to see. The sounds were quite telling, especially as Daniel now began to cry out soft, little complaints, but he had no real idea what was going on in there. It was a temptation so great that Ryan quickly found himself on his knees, peeking into the little keyhole under Daniel's bedroom doorknob. He squinted and strained his eyes until the scene in that room finally took shape.

As he suspected, it was a very traditional hand-spanking. Daniel's butt was bare and a dark pink by now. She had him right over her lap, even though Daniel was an average-sized guy and she was an average-sized woman. The twin bed helped support his lower and upper body, and a pillow on her lap accentuated his humiliating position, raising his bottom up high, while also protecting some of his dignity. His genitals weren't touching her lap, at least.

Daniel had his arm flung over his head, and now that Ryan could see into the room he could tell a lot of his cries were muffled very purposefully. He was literally biting on his own hand to keep from screaming out his pain, lest anyone in the next room over might overhear his childish punishment. It must have stung something awful too, looking at the shade of his cheeks and the way his feet began to kick up with every fresh spank.

A guy with more normal sexual predilections might have turned away and pretended he heard and saw nothing. Walked out that door and saved his friend the humiliation. A less kind guy might stick around and tease Daniel for it later, but that would probably be the extent of it. Ryan, though, already felt his erection pressing up against the front of his jeans. He was rock hard, twitching and leaking and that was only after once picturing himself over Ms. Prescott's lap, kicking and crying as she spanked him just as soundly as her own son. Glued to the keyhole, he watched all the way until Daniel was helped up and hugged. He apologized for what he said, and she lovingly kissed his forehead. Only then did Ryan finally back away from that door. He hurried across the common room, his heart racing in fear he'd be caught, and closed his bedroom door as quietly as possible.

His hand rushed under his jeans, and found it already far too late to properly remove them. His cock was twitching with desire and every new rub brought him an electric wave of intense pleasure. Ryan moaned against his other hand, trying to quiet himself much in the same way Daniel had done during his spanking. His mind lit up with cartoonish visions of his newest fantasy; being properly put in his place by his roommate's mother. Squirming over her lap, feeling her hand strictly reddening his backside, her scolding him all the while. Only mere seconds passed before he felt himself falling straight over the edge. He bit back his scream of pleasure as he soaked his shorts and jeans with the most intense orgasm he'd had in months.

Then it was all shame. Cold, wet shame. Ryan lowered his head, his flush of arousal feeling more like a blush of embarrassment now. What was he doing? Why did he do that? Why didn't a nice set of boobs and a round ass arouse him nearly as much as this insane fantasy? Ryan put his ruined jeans and shorts into his laundry basket, hiding them under the rest of the clothes, literally hanging his head all the while.

***

Daniel was even more quiet than usual that evening. Ryan caught him so often looking his way. He knew what he was doing - checking to see if he looked at him differently now, trying to guess if he knew his mother still spanked him.

Obviously, Ryan pretended he didn't hear a thing. It wasn't just for Daniel's sake, but his own. It was like mutually assured destruction. This whole secret could bring them both down.

Ms. Prescott wasn't the maternal tyrant she seemed to be earlier that day. She really cared for her son and his wellbeing. When Daniel showed her some of his work that semester, she was genuinely interested, congratulating him for jobs well done. He also enjoyed a movie with her, rated G of course, but they were both laughing together and sometimes sharing fond memories. It was just that she had very high expectations for Daniel, and quite the embarrassing consequences for failing to meet them.

The whole evening went along very well until she found the little baggy of weed stuck between the couch cushions. Ryan paled just from the look in her face. It may as well have been actual heroin or crack or something, the way her nostrils flared. Ms. Prescott held the baggy to the light, opened it, sniffed the contents, and then looked at both Ryan and Daniel. She crossed her arms.

"Whose is this?"

"I - I don't know how that got there!" said Daniel.

"It's not his," insisted Ryan. "I... I think it's actually a friend of mine. It belongs to a friend of mine."

"Convenient," said Ms. Prescott. "A friend of yours."

"Yes, uh, yes, ma'am."

"Daniel, you're a friend of his, aren't you?"

"Wait," said Ryan. That had completely backfired.

"Get in that corner right this instant, Daniel!"

The poor guy just got up immediately, his face burning with a deep, hot shame. Nineteen and being put in time-out, facing the wall, and knowing exactly how to position himself as well. He crossed his arms over the small of his back and held his own elbows.

"Illegal drugs! I can't even believe this! You're lucky I won't call the police. But I promise that you, Daniel, won't be sitting down for a week once I'm through with you."

He lowered his head, pressing his forehead right into the corner.

"It's really not his weed, Ms. Prescott," tried Ryan.

If he'd been shocked at his friend's childish treatment, things might have gone down differently. But instead, Ryan didn't even once suggest she was being ridiculous, too strict, or doing anything abnormal. He didn't question his friend's sentencing to a corporal punishment, but only tried to save him from it. That was his mistake (or

not

his mistake, depending on how one looks at it).

"Whose weed is this? There's only two boys in this room."

Ryan covered his face in two hands and he squeaked out that it was his at exactly the same time a determined, self-sacrificing Daniel tried to save his hide by saying it was

his

.

"So both of yours. As expected. Should I call the police?"

"Please don't!" begged Ryan.

"Get up and face the other corner. You want to commit crimes together, then you can take the consequences together."

Ryan's heart was going like he'd just been running for his life. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. He was beside himself.

"Yes, Ms. Prescott," he said, his voice shaking from the dreadful thrill of it all.

Daniel actually gasped, for his part. This kind of thing probably didn't ever happen before. Ryan managed to get into the other free corner of the room without falling to the ground on his jelly legs. He was just about to copy his roommate's position when Ms. Prescott took care of that herself. She cinched up his arms behind his back and made him palm his own elbows. It made him feel so small, being maneuvered around like a puppet, and then having to hold the submissive stance. It was right then that his cock began to swell.

For the next twenty minutes straight, it was all pacing and scolding for Daniel's mother. She told them horror stories about addiction, and how they'd get treated in prison by hardened felons and evil guards, and how they'd get thrown out of school and ruin their entire lives. Ryan ended up utterly ashamed. Even after all his posting online about how weed was much safer than liquor and how he thought it ought to be legal all over the world. Now he just about believed her, she spoke with such conviction. What had he done? What if he had gotten caught by anyone else?

"Daniel, get over here."

"Please no, mom!"

"Get over here this instant! Ryan, you'd better listen closely. You're next."

It was just like earlier, but this time the shuffling sound was the unmistakeable lowering of pants. Knowing what he'd seen earlier, Ryan could guess what took place behind his back. Ms. Prescott almost certainly arranged Daniel over her lap, this time on the couch instead of the bed. She probably used the throw pillow to prop him up.

Her spanking was loud and fast, a flurry of smacks to her son's bare bottom. He yelped and whined much more now that he'd given up trying to hide the fact that he still got spanked. The guys next door were playing some blessedly loud music, and the ones on the other side of the hall were always gone on Saturday nights. So Daniel was free to let it all out, which he did, sounding more like he was half his age.

It had to be unfair, being spanked so severely for Ryan's behaviour. He felt so awful about it, in fact, that all his sexual desire for spankings by dominant women deflated. His heart had grown too heavy. Before he knew it, he turned around and called out to her. "Ms. Prescott! It really wasn't his weed! He lied to protect me! I've never seen Daniel smoke! Not even cigarettes. He doesn't even curse! Please! You're punishing him for me. I did it."

She seemed to listen this time, even though she used a pointer finger to gesture that Ryan ought to turn right back around and face that corner again. With a lower, softer voice, she asked Daniel if it was true. He sounded like he'd been crying when he answered, all squeaky and choked up. "Yes, mom. It's his. I didn't want you to punish him."

"You lied, then," she said. "So we'll say your red bottom is for your dishonesty tonight. But it's over."

"Okay," he said, sniffling. "Thank you. Please don't... don't..."

"No, Daniel. I'm still going to punish Ryan."

"Mom... you can't... you can't actually-"

"Just watch me, Daniel. I don't see anyone else around here willing to teach your roommate a lesson. Come over here, Ryan."

He turned to look at her, relieved Daniel was no longer suffering through what should have been his own punishment, but still felt racked with guilt. As his roommate pulled his pants back over his reddened cheeks, Ryan stood on shaky legs at Ms. Prescott's side. There was the pillow on her lap, the one he'd have to lay over. He assumed that wouldn't be all, either. She said it would be the spanking of his life. What he'd wanted so badly before now seemed rather intimidating. His fantasies had a way of softening all blows.

"You're going to be punished, Ryan. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do your parents spank you?"

"No, ma'am."

"Okay. Well what you did was very, very naughty. It's illegal, young man. You could be in jail. So this won't be easy."

Ryan swallowed hard, nodding.

"You'll be spanked very soundly over my knees with my hand, and then a wooden hairbrush."

A hairbrush! He knew then he'd never get through this spanking without shedding tears. Still, anything was better than actual legal troubles. Things like that followed a person around. It could ruin careers and lives. "Yes, ma'am."

Ms. Prescott began to unbutton his jeans for him, taking away even that tiny ounce of power and autonomy. Ryan stood there stupidly, his arms just dangling, while she worked down his zipper. All at once, no nonsense, she yanked down his underwear and jeans, crumpling them at his ankles. Then he was turned just about instantly over her lap via one sharp tug of his wrist.

It turned out the pillow raised him up about twice as much as he'd anticipated. Ryan's bare bottom was humiliatingly presented to Ms. Prescott, tilted up at such an angle that no part of his cheeks were safe from discipline. Daniel stood there just watching as his mother pat Ryan's bottom and scolded him one last time, reminding him why he was about to be spanked. Maybe it was meant to be in support, but Ryan found it absolutely mortifying to have a witness present for this whole thing. Maybe it served him right for sneaking a look earlier that afternoon.

"Okay, Ryan. I hope this teaches you a good lesson."

He squeezed his eyes shut just as it started. The first sharp smack alone packed a surprising sting, and the next strong slap ensured this was not just a strong start, but exactly how it was going to go for the next few minutes. The spanks furiously lit up his backside, one after the other. Ms. Prescott did not tire easily. Ryan groaned out his acute discomfort into his own arms, folded just under his head. He knew he was taking it worse than Daniel had just before, and felt certain his spanking was ten times harder. Only half a minute in he was kicking his legs and wiggling like mad, attempting to protect his bottom by any means necessary.

Ms. Prescott trapped both his legs under her thigh, angling him in an even more embarrassing pose for the remainder of his spanking. "You will take every last spank, young man! What if my son got caught up in your mess? What then?"

"I'm sorry!"

"I'll make sure of

that

!"

His ankles still kicked even though his thighs were immobilized, and soon Ryan was crying out his complaints rather pathetically. "Ooooh! Oh please no more! Oww! Owwwwww! Nooooo!"

"You earned this by breaking the law, didn't you?"

"Aaaahh! Yes! Ahhh!"

"Stay still. Don't you dare cover that bottom! Daniel! Grab his wrists."

Before Ryan knew it his wrists were pulled straight out in front of him. His watering eyes met Daniel's for only a second before he turned to hide his face against the couch cushions in shame.

A pause in his spanking gave him false hope. Just her hand rested on his cheeks, letting him feel the heat pouring off his bare skin. Was it over? Was it finally over? Unfortunately, he realized she was just retrieving the hairbrush from her bag. Daniel tightened the grip on his wrists, perhaps for his own protection. The hairbrush smacking his fingers would be even worse than what it was going to do to his backside.

"This is going to really teach you something you should have learned a long, long time ago!"

He didn't answer, just laying there limply and fully defeated. Ms. Prescott adjusted his position before she began the second half of his punishment, making sure his posterior was a most perfect target, up high over her lap. The hard back of the brush tapped him and rubbed a quick circle over his skin.