Ladies and Gentlemen, another 'mother-in-law story,' but somewhat darker than my previous one. For this time, her daughter's husband most certainly does NOT want wish to be in her bed, or to indulge in any sort of sexual relationship with her. Not that this utterly selfish woman has any intention of considering or respecting his wishes at all. Hence me placing this tale in the 'non-consent' category as opposed to the 'incest' one.
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TIED TO MY MOTHER-IN-LAW'S BED
Once the effect of the drug that I'd been subjected to wore off enough, and I came to, I realised that I was in quite deep trouble and events had taken a turn very much for the worse. Firstly, as my head began to clear, although I had not been placed into any sort of blindfold at all, I was completely in the dark, in a strange and unfamiliar bedroom. It was utterly devoid of illumination of any kind within, the heavy, expensive, velvet curtains not allowing the merest light whatsoever to penetrate from the outside. Not that made too much difference anyway, for by now day had completely turned to night.
As I attempted to do two things, the fact hit me that I could do neither. Firstly, I tried to move, to discover that it was basically impossible, I had, very effectively, been tied to something. Both my arms and legs had been fastened to hold my body in a spread-eagled form to what I guessed, correctly, were the firm bedposts of a solid, and therefore secure, bed. One that had been covered in a delicious satin sheet before my actual confinement to it. Not that the gorgeous feel of that material against my bare skin, apart from some female lingerie items, in the form of a lacy and sexy suspender belt and some very sheer nylon stockings having been placed upon my legs, I was completely naked, compensated for the predicament I had found myself subjected to. Where was I? And whose bed was this, even more importantly why had whoever had taken my body and imprisoned it, done this to me?
My other discovery? When I tried to speak, to possibly call out, again like movement, I found the power of speech denied to me, by the placing of a set of, very heavily scented by some unknown woman's sexual juices, female satin panties within my mouth. Tied into place and held there with a silk dressing gown belt, several more of those forming the bonds that held my limbs within a state of firm bondage to this large, and clearly, luxurious bed.
My efforts to communicate did however alert the other person within the room as to my condition of having awoken. I sensed, rather than saw, as I say the room was pitch black, this person, who I couldn't identify but whom I knew was female, climb onto the bed and lie down beside me. As one of her hands reached down to wander over my balls and rapidly stiffening cock, something her deft touch took away any chance of me preventing despite the very real fact that was the last thing I desired, a gentle voice started to whisper into one of my ears. Which did at least identify to my rapidly recovering brain just who the woman, obviously my captor now, was. "Sssssh, Darling. Not a sound now, we don't want to attract any unwanted attention here, do we? You've no idea how much I've longed for, yes even prayed for, this moment to arrive, have you Darling? You totally, utterly and completely belong to me now! YOU ARE MINE!"
Be thankful for small mercies they say, so at least I knew exactly who my tormentor was. Claire. My wife's mother. But all of those small matters existing within in her capture of my body, such as her placing my legs in the very sheer nylon of her stockings, became dwarfed by one major factor here. As the last remnants of the drug used to enable my descent into her hands to so effortlessly occur began to wear off, one overwhelming thought engulfed me. She couldn't have described the situation any better, now, as she had correctly informed me, I WAS HERS! I had now found myself, totally securely and in an undoubted completely inescapable manner, tied to my mother-in-law's bed!
Now, any reasonable person could have made a case that it was entirely my own fault that I now found myself as Claire's complete carnal captive. Why? Because I had, with the very best of intentions, please believe me about that, interfered. Where I really shouldn't have, despite, as I say, my aims being for the best. After all this wasn't MY blood family, we were talking about here.
You see Lucy, my wife, despised her mother to the point where, if she didn't want any actual harm to come to her mum, Lucy wasn't vindictive at all, she just wanted no contact with her. With good reason. Claire was very manipulative, selfish, devious, conniving and extremely haughty. After several years of marriage and having produced a child in the form of Lucy, Claire had decided the Derek, Lucy's father, wasn't good enough for her. Meaning, not rich or stylish to the degree needed to satisfy her inflated ego. Being stunningly beautiful, Claire began to cast her beady eye around for somebody whom she considered to be a more suitable partner for her, please bear in mind that it would be extremely difficult to find someone more decent, honest and thoroughly pleasant than the husband she planned to desert.
Funnily enough the man she latched on to was also a decent chap, and no, she hadn't told him she was already married when she, successfully, set out to seduce him. Peter Beauchamp was a rich and very intelligent businessman, he'd established himself very well, and by now owned his own, highly successful, company. But he fell, absolutely, for the scheming Claire's charms, and believe me, she could turn on the charm alright. Not to mention her stunningly sexy looks and allure.
He'd fallen 'head over heels' for Claire before he discovered that she was in fact married to Lucy's father. Actually, it was only when he proposed marriage to Claire himself that he did, indeed, become aware of her status as Derek's spouse. But now he showed his decency, as he insisted that Derek be allowed to retain the marital home, and, with himself so under Claire's spell by now, not have to pay any alimony to her at all. Thankfully then, Derek was able to escape from Claire's clutches relatively unscathed financially. As for Claire herself, by now she'd moved in with Peter, freely spending his money, and living a grand life, all at his expense. However, there was another dimension to this equation. Having been lied to, when Peter finally did marry Claire, much to her disgust and disappointment, he'd insisted on her signing a 'pre-nuptial' agreement, which would ensure, that if she continued to play her games, and they did split up, she'd leave with virtually nothing. A wise precaution, as we shall see later.
Lucy's distain for her mother hadn't really grabbed hold of her just yet, for she liked and respected the kind and decent Peter. So, during this period she still continued to keep in contact with her and her new husband. Incidentally, being sixteen at the time of the break-up, she'd chosen to stay living with her father, much to Claire's delight. Being utterly selfish the last thing she wanted was a teenage daughter around, cramping her style!
This was still the situation regarding her mother a few years later when I entered the equation, with Lucy and I starting to date. It soon became crystal clear to me that if my, then girlfriend, disliked her mother, well she absolutely doted on her father. To me it was completely obvious why almost immediately. I quickly became aware of Derek's nature, this was a man who was a completely 'good egg,' kind, totally honest, hardworking and thoroughly decent. And with something in common with me, just like myself Derek was an engineer, although his calling was mostly mechanical, whereas my degree and employment was more within the field of electrics and electronics.
As well as getting on very well together regarding our respective occupations then, Derek and I shared another passion, one that the two Ladies of our lives, Derek had married again a lovely Lady by the name of Gemma, also delighted in, motorbikes. All four of us had a full motorcycle licence, and all four owned a 'bike themselves. Believe me the two girls looked great in leather, and the four of us participated in many a good ride together, no I'm talking about on the roads not in bed, including the annual ride to Silverstone for the British Moto Grand Prix.
Now, of course, in Britain with motorcycling very much being frowned upon by the 'respectable' classes, this was another wedge that soon became apparent between Claire and her former husband and daughter. Not that it bothered any of us at all.
By the time I'd raised enough courage to ask Lucy to take my hand in marriage, which to my great joy and relief she accepted, the rifts in Peter and Claire's relationship had very much begun to appear and become clear to all. To a large extent he'd started to see through her lies and deception. And above all he'd begun to rein in her spending of his money, and I'm sure you can all imagine just how well THAT went down? In many ways, Lucy's and my wedding was the final straw, Derek, Lucy and I insisted, that although Claire was welcome to attend, it would be Gemma sitting alongside Derek on the top table. As Lucy informed her, whilst she still considered Claire to be her mother, Mother Nature had determined that, Gemma was the woman she called MUM. Peter, naturally, agreed without any fuss and by now Claire's virtual hold on him had been broken. Publicly she screamed abuse at him, accusing him of betrayal and other such nonsense. He'd had enough of her by now.
Again, her roving eye started to scan around and this time she courted an almost male version of herself, a man named Graeme Duckworth, who was as devious, conniving and downright selfish as her. Naturally they 'fell' for each other, and this is where Peter's 'pre-nup' came into play, boy, was that a smart move on his part, or what? Not that the selfish Claire seemed to mind, Graeme was even richer than Peter, and as long as the very sexy Claire kept him happy in bed, which she was able to do with considerable ease, he allowed her full access to his substantial wealth. Incidentally, Derek, Gemma, Lucy and I still see Peter on a fairly regular basis as a good friend, and I'm delighted to say he's met and married a Lady far more suitable for him than the utterly self-centred Claire.
But this is where I, very much, went wrong and my interfering occurred. It was now that Lucy made her mind up to completely blank her mother out of our lives. So, when the invitation to Claire and Graeme's wedding arrived in our post, Lucy was all for simply throwing it into the waste bin. Which, and isn't hindsight a wonderful thing, I should have agreed to and allowed her to do. But NO, like a total pratt, I persuaded her to accept and inform them that she and I would gladly attend. Which, we did.
And this is when the seeds leading to my body becoming confined to her bed were sown. Unbeknown to me, Claire spotted me looking very closely at her nylon coated legs, which were totally gorgeous, and that was the moment where she decided, that once she'd taken me prisoner by tying me to her bed, she'd put my legs into nylon. THOSE nylons, yes when I awoke to find them covering my legs, it had been the very stockings and suspenders that she worn on her wedding day! For it was also the moment that she decided that she 'wanted' me and started to lay her plans for my capture. Her husband? Being as bad as her, he decided that he quite fancied a 'piece' of Lucy, he'd do to her precisely what his utterly conniving bride planned to subject me to, agreeing to take full part in Claire's devious schemes.
So, before we left the wedding scene, both Claire and Graeme approached us and invited Lucy and I to attend their home for a Saturday afternoon and night, a few weeks later, where she'd cook a 'special' meal for us, and the wine would flow. Again, I interfered and answered in the affirmative, without asking Lucy first. Because she would most definitely have refused. But I had now effectively committed us.
