"I’ve got to go away on business for a week," she said.

"All right." He was hesitant. Since their marriage five years ago they had never been apart for more than a day at a time.

"It’s OK," she continued, "My mother said she would come over and look after things while I’m away. She’ll do your cooking and washing, so you won’t have to worry about any of it. You just make sure you do what she tells you."

***************************************************************

She kissed him lightly, and went out. He watched the car disappear up the road, and returned to his work on the computer.

It was midday when the doorbell rang, and his mother-in-law was standing there holding her suitcase. She was a tall woman and big-boned, an imposing figure, he thought, as he looked at her.

"Come in." He paused, staring at the case. "You’re staying?"

"Of course I’m staying. Karen said you needed looking after, and that’s exactly whet I’m here for. I’ll unpack my things in the spare room."

She strode in and up the stairs. He returned to his computer.

"I’ll do dinner for six o’clock," she shouted down to him. "Make sure you’re ready."

"OK. Thanks." This wasn’t going to be at all bad, he decided. If she was going to do all the cooking and probably the washing and cleaning, he could get on with his work and not have to worry about making sure the house was in a respectable state for when Karen returned. Perfect.

***************************************************************

He worked on into the evening, breaking only for dinner which his mother-in-law served up at exactly six o’clock as she had promised.

She went to bed early, but it was nearly midnight before he turned off the computer and went upstairs himself.

His bed seemed large and empty without Karen in it. He found himself thinking about her, wishing her slender body was lying next to him. As his thoughts dwelt on her, missing her already, his hand found his hardness and he lay on his back pushing the bedclothes off him. He closed his eyes, sleepily thinking of Karen, and started to stroke himself......

"YOU DIRTY LITTLE BEAST."

He was jolted back from his thoughts, opening his eyes to see his mother-in-law standing there in her long nightdress and staring angrily at his hand still grasping his rapidly softening manhood.

"SHE’S ONLY BEEN GONE FIVE MINUTES AND YOU CAN’T WAIT TO PLAY WITH YOURSELF."

Her anger was real - very real.

"I.....what.....it’s only........" he spluttered.

"THERE’S NO EXCUSE FOR THAT. HOW DARE YOU PLAY YOUR FILTHY LITTLE GAMES WHILE I’M IN THE HOUSE."

"I was only......." It was obvious, of course, what he was "only" doing, but somehow explaining it to his mother-in-law was impossible.

"GET INTO THE BATHROOM. NOW."

"What?"

"YOU’LL WASH THAT PROPERLY CLEAN. AT ONCE. MOVE."

Dazed and trying to cover himself with his hands, he swung himself out of bed and went into the bathroom, uncomfortably aware she was watching him. He turned on the taps and took a flannel from the side of the bath.

"You’re useless."

She had followed him into the bathroom, and was standing just behind him.

"I’m going to have to do it for you."

Before he had time to think, to argue or to stop her, she had grabbed the flannel from his hand and grasped him by the balls pulling him over the washbasin and applying the flannel vigorously. She stood against him, slightly taller than he was, her heavy body pressing onto him as she rubbed and squeezed with the wet flannel. He started to stiffen again.

"ARE YOU THINKING OF KAREN AGAIN?"

She was shouting in his ear, so loudly that it almost stunned him.

"No.........."

It was the wrong answer.

Her hand closed tightly around his balls, squeezing painfully. She dropped the flannel and picked up a nailbrush and began to apply it briskly in up-and-down strokes to his now hard manhood.

As he yelped in pain, she hissed in his ear: "So. I’m going to have to watch you closely. Very closely indeed. By the end of this week I’ll have you behaving yourself properly, you see if I don’t.."

The pain was so intense that his hardness soon subsided. With a final swipe of the nailbrush she released him.

"That’s clean, I think. Get back to bed and I’ll be there in a moment."

‘She’ll be there in a moment?’ He had no idea what she meant, but his head was so befuddled with thoughts going round in such confusion that he neither questioned nor argued. He obeyed.

He did not have long to wait. She was back in his bedroom almost as soon as he was in the bed.

"I’ve decided," she said, "That you can’t be trusted to be left alone. From now on I will be watching you all the time, and you’ll do exactly what I tell you. It’s my duty to Karen to make sure you don’t misbehave. Understand?"

"Yes.........." he was going to continue. Words fell over themselves in his head about how she could not treat him like this, about what he did with his own body was his business not hers, about how Karen would never behave like this. None of them had time to reach the surface.

"Good. We’re agreed then. Get on this side of the bed - right over - and I’ll be on the other side. Then I’ll soon know if you start misbehaving."

She did not wait. nor even bother to go round to the other side of the bed. She climbed right over him, and with the brief weight of her body on top of him, the swish of the long nightdress, the momentary caress of the soft material on his face, the fleeting glimpse of large, strong, white thighs and that dark area between them, without any conscious feeling of desire he stiffened again - and this time it was instantaneous and completely rigid. He instinctively put one hand down as though to cover and protect himself, although under the bedclothes she surely could neither see nor sense what had just happened.

She was in the bed. His bed. Large, strong, and some twenty-five years older than him. She was his mother-in-law, for God’s sake! This was absolutely ridiculous, and yet even now when he had a moment to think he still did not shout "No". He did not tell her to get out and to stop being so crazy. He did not tell her that this was HIS house and that he would do exactly what he wanted.

He just lay there facing her, less than eighteen inches away, an erection poking towards her ineffectually partly covered by his hand beneath the bedclothes, and more completely unsure of what to do next than he had ever been in his life.

He might, perhaps, have come to his senses given enough time, but that was not to be. She did not leave him long enough.

"Let me check." Her tone was sharp, and her hands swift to move downwards inside the bed.

"EVEN NOW YOU STILL CAN’T STOP DOING IT."

Inevitably she had found his hardness with his hand still on it.

"No......." he started to protest

"DON’T LIE TO ME. IT’S OBVIOUS."

"Right," she continued, "I’ll need to take more drastic action."

With remarkable agility for her age and size she leapt out of bed, clambered across him once again, and disappeared into the spare room. Within seconds she was back, carrying something in her hands.

This time she was on the bed on top of him, her weight pressing down onto him as she knelt astride his chest.

"This will stop you playing with yourself."

With the appearance of expert skill, she had tied strong cord around each of his wrists and attached them firmly to the top corners of the bed almost before he knew what she was doing.

"Hey!" He wriggled and pulled.

"Don’t wriggle," she warned. "I can’t sleep next to someone wriggling."

"Untie me," he demanded, still pulling at the cords.

"I’ll have to tie your ankles too, then," she said determinedly, and did just that, leaving him spreadeagled and helpless but still covered by the bedclothes.

She settled back into bed next to him.

"That should stop you misbehaving," she said. "Now, we’ll wait for this to subside."

He flinched as she put her hand onto his hardness and leaned against him as she adjusted her position to get comfortable.

Somehow, although he kept telling himself he did not find her at all attractive, his excitement was growing rather than diminishing. He felt himself throbbing against the firm yet motionless pressure of her fingers on him, and despite his total horror at the idea of his mother-in-law touching him in this way, he was unable to stop himself pushing his hips upward just a little to feel the movement between his manhood and her hand.

Either she did not notice, or she ignored it. She remained silent.

Eventually, she spoke. Her voice seemed deeper, and ever so slightly out of breath as though she had just run upstairs.

"It’s not working, is it? You’re not behaving yourself."

She adjusted her position, squeezing, apparently unintentionally, with her hand as she moved.

"Have you any idea," she went on, "How bad you’re being?"

"Have you any idea of the effect," she was almost whispering now, "That your continual unprovoked erection can have on a woman?"

"No. I mean......." he was not sure he understood what she meant. He hoped he did not understand what she meant.

"So you’ll have to experience the consequences. In fact, you have no choice."

She released his manhood and swung one leg over him, pushing herself up so that she was sitting on his chest.

He did know what she meant. He knew exactly what she meant. She was going to take him, to rape him, to take his hardness into her and to writhe around on top of him until she was satisfied and while he was helpless and powerless to stop her.

And in that moment he wanted her. He wanted her to do exactly that: to rape him and to use his erect manhood to satisfy herself. He wanted to explode into her in that almighty orgasm which had been building in him ever since he went to bed that night.

‘NOW,’ he thought, ‘Take me now. I’m yours.’

But she didn’t.

He felt the soft folds of the back of her nightdress now draped around his hardness lift, and he felt her weight ease from his chest where she sat.

‘She’s leaving me,’ he thought, and at once experienced a pang of disappointment.

Then he felt her thighs on either side of his head, and the darkness of the room became total blackness as her nightdress fell around him. A softness descended on him, enveloped him, smothered him. The softness became firmness, a whole world of unyielding, damp airlessness which invaded his mouth, his nose and took over his whole consciousness. He struggled vainly to move and to escape from underneath her, feeling as he tried to free himself her muscles clamping him firmly into exactly the position she wanted him. Then, slowly at first, she started the first small movements which would take her to her climax. 
Eventually.