Part 1 of an abusive mom that gets what she deserves from her son. Fictional story, and one of many I will be uploading. Incest, mom/son ,rape
My name is Susan, I am a 47 year old widowed mother, of a 15 year old son.
For the past year or so, I had been getting strange vibes from my son. By strange, I mean, as in an uncomfortable, and sexual nature. I had convinced myself, that several times I had caught him looking at me in “that kind” of way. A couple of times, I was pretty sure I caught him trying to ” catch a peek” at my body.
I would always freak myself out over it for a day or two. Being a strong, faithful, woman of faith, doing my best to raise my son the same way, made the thought of such a thing even worse, on top of everything else!
I would always end up convincing myself that I was over-reacting, or mistaken somehow. After which, I would be relieved, and carry on, life as normal. Until the day, I will forever regret!
I had been doing laundry all day, while he was at school, as was normal. I would always fold his clothes, and take them to him room, and put them where they belonged. Normally, when his bedding needed washed, he would bring it downstairs to me, while I washed my clothes, and when done, he would make his bed.
That particular day, as I was leaving the room, I saw his bed was a mess. He normally made hid bed before leaving for school, but not that day. I noticed what looked like sweat stains, so I decided to strip them off and wash them.
I did so, and returned to his room to make his bed. As I was nearly done, tucking everything in and under the mattress, i felt the back of my hand run over something. I turned my hand over and felt around. Not sure what it was, I grasped it, and pulled it out to see.
What I found, stunned me! I knelt there, mouth wide open, in shock. It was a pair of my panties! One of the several pair that had gone missing! I remembered that one because I had bought it only a few months ago, and maybe wore it only a few times before I couldn’t seem to find it.
It was filthy, crusty, and obvious what he had been doing with them. I dropped them on the floor, then looked at his mattress for a moment, before lifting it up. I tossed the mattress over, and saw what seemed like all of my missing panties, probably 7 or 8 of them. All in the same condition, crusted and filthy, some were stuck together.
The shock and disgust, soon turned to humiliation. Which then turned to anger. I sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at the pile of my cum stained panties. So many thoughts going through my head. I was in a trance, or shock, and must have been there for quite a while.
A thump sound snapped me out of it. I looked to the doorway, and there was my son. It was his backpack hitting the floor. He dropped it when he saw me sitting there, having found his perverted stash of my panties.
His eyes were wide, and his mouth open. He was horrified by the fact I now knew what he had been up to. He tried to speak, his mouth and lips were moving, but no words came out.
I picked up a pair of my panties, held them up, and stood.
“What is this?” No words came out, just sounds of him trying to speak.
“Thomas! What, The Fuck, Is This!”
I started walking towards him, holding out my panties I had in my hand. He backed away as I got close. I followed him around the bed, as he stuttered for words.
“Mom, I am sorry, please, mom, I am so sorry!”
He kept saying, over, and over, as he sat down on the bed, cowering in shame and fear. As he whimpered and begged, I looked around the room, for something to beat him with.
I found a belt of his, hanging from a hook in his closet door. I reached for it.
“No Mommy, please! I’m sorry, I won’t do it again! Mom, Please don’t!”
It had been a while since I had punished him this way. I had come to realize, and admit to myself, that for years I had gone too far with the beatings on him. Often for trivial and minor things that didn’t warrant the punishment I dished out to him. I had kept my temper in check for the better part of the past year. But THIS! I lost all control, and Rage took control of me.
I cursed and shouted down on him, with every swing. He laid on the bed in the fetal position, his arm covering his face to block the blows. He was always a weak, timid, almost cowardly boy. Even now, having grown so much over the past year, he seemed just a weak as ever.
“Filthy little BASTARD!” *CRACK…CRACK*
“You Fucking PIG!” *CRACK…CRACK*
“How Fucking DARE YOU!!!” *CRACK…CRACK*
“I am your MOTHER!!! How could you do this?!?!” *CRACK…CRACK*
Again and again I swung that belt down on him, cursing him as I did. Shouting every hateful thing I could think of. After several minutes, I paused to catch my breath, and get a better grip on the belt.
“I am going to tell EVERYONE what you have been doing! All your friends, all your teachers, everyone at your school will know what a filthy little pervert you really are! No girl will ever want you, they will laugh at you every time they see you!”
He slowly let his guard down, and looked at me. I watched, as what I said sunk in, and the look on his face started to change. First, it was something of an “Oh…SHIT!” look. I tightened my grip around the belt, and gave a little chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s right, Thomas. By tomorrow, EVERYONE is going to know what a PIG you are!”
Truth be told, I wasn’t really going to do that. I would be so ashamed if anyone really knew. It was the rage talking, and I was saying anything I could think of, to drive as much fear into him as I could. It worked, too good…
He broke eye contact and looked down, as he still lay there in his side, curled up. A look of anger began to form on his face. His lips tensed up, as he began to clinch and grind his teeth. He started breathing heavily through his nose, snot bubbles forming and popping with each breath.
I reached back and swung down hard, catching him off guard. The first strike landed right across his face. He quickly brought his guard up again, and I swung again, and again, and again, as hard as I could.
“You are no son of mine! I HATE YOU! I wish you were never born!” *CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK, CRACK*….
Before I knew what happened, he reached out and caught the belt with both hands. He yanked it away from me, and threw it across the room. It was so fast and hard, and I had such a tight grip, the belt buckle ripped right threw my hand, slicing my palm. The pain drew my attention to my hand, I stared at my bleeding palm for a moment. It hurt so bad I became even more furious than I already was.
I looked up towards him, ready to lash out. As soon as I looked into his eyes, a terrible chill ran through my body. He sat up on the bed, with wide eyes. His pupils were twice the normal size, dark, and evil looking. His face had no expression, no longer scared or angry, it sort of looked lifeless. He looked possessed!
In an instant, everything that had been driving me, was gone! The rage, humiliation, all sense of control, and all courage, fled my body. It felt like his eyes sucked my soul out. I started to tremble, and shiver. I took a couple small steps back, holding my had where it was cut.
“Thomas?” My voice was weak, and squeaky. I could barely speak, as fear now raced through my mind and body.
“Thomas?” He didn’t move, or say a word.
“Baby, I see now! I understand…The Devil has gotten into you. It was him, not you baby.”
He smirked, and stared at me, with those dark, lifeless eyes.
I looked at my hand, still bleeding. I raised my hand, showing him my wound.
“I need to clean and bandage my hand. Then I will come back, and we can talk. I will help you, ok?”
He didn’t say a word. He just stood up and walked around the bed to door, where he picked up his backpack he had dropped earlier. I walked back towards the bed, never making eye contact, nor saying a word. He opened it, and dumped his books on the bed. He started going through his things, as if he was sorting them, looking at papers like he was about to study, or do homework.
He was paying me no attention, so I slowly started to walk towards the door, keeping an eye on him the whole time. I walked around him slowly, until I was past him. His back was still to me, and I was only a few steps from the door. I turned towards the door, and took three or fours quick steps to get out of there, thinking I was free. Right as I got to the door, I felt a hard thump to the back of my head, and watched the floor race up to my face. Thomas had knocked me over the head, with one of his books.
I hit the floor, face down. The impact of my forehead hitting the floor is what knocked me out. My vision blurred, and there was a ringing in my ears. I felt as my eyes must have rolled back, as I faded into darkness. I really don’t know how long I was out for, I just know that when I woke, I wished it was longer.
As I started to come out of it, right away, the overwhelming feeling of my head pounding, and ears ringing, was what I felt and heard. It took a moment for my vision to adjust, once I opened my eyes. As my blurred, cross eyed sight began to focus, so did my ears. The ringing slowly faded, as if in sync with my vision. The rest of my senses followed, until I was fully aware and conscious.
“Oh my god, this can’t be happening!”, I thought to myself, as the horror of what was happening took hold of me. I was laying face down, bent over the end of Thomas’ bed. My hands where bound behind my back, and I could feel his hand pushing down on the back of my head.
“NO!….NO! Oh god help me please, he is RAPING ME!!!”
I struggled to free myself, but it was no use. I just felt him push my head deeper into the mattress. I felt his cock inside me, as he began to fuck me harder, and harder, as I struggled. The pain he was inflicting on my pussy was intense, I tried to scream for help. Nobody would hear me, he had stuffed one of those old, dirty, cum stained panties of mine in my mouth, and sealed it in with duct tape.
There was nothing I could do, but lay there, and take it. I began to cry, letting out muffled wailing sounds with each thrust. It had been 3 years since I had last been with a man. And never had I been fucked with a cock the size like this! It felt like my insides where being battered, and pushed around.
“Fuck you…..FUCK YOU…..FUCK YOU, BITCH!”, he shouted.
He was hurting me so bad, all I could do was cry, grunt, and try to scream.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?”, he asked. I just cried into the mattress.
He grabbed my hair, and yanked back on it, lifting my head. My eyes were closed, as I struggled with pain, and situation.
“Open your eyes!”, he said.
I didn’t, until he yanked my hair even harder.
“Open them!”
The pain forced my eyes open. I was looking straight ahead, into the mounted mirror on the wall. I could see myself, and my son. His eyes, dark black, the evil and anger on his face as he fucked me.
“Hurts….DOESN’T IT?”
I nodded my head, as best I could, and screamed out loud as I could, “YES!” I don’t know what was worse at the time, the fact I was being raped, that my son was fucking me, or the pain. Over time, it was the humiliation that hurt me the most.
“Say it!….Tell me it hurts! Tell me!”
“It hurts!”, now wailing uncontrollably.
“AGAIN!”, he demanded.
“IT HURTS!”, I screamed.
Again, and again, he demanded I say that. As I did, the faster, and harder he fucked me, until he finally orgasmed. He roared out, in an animalistic sounding tone, as he shot his seed inside my pussy. He drove his cock deep inside me, and held it there as he came. The first burst of semen was so huge, and powerful, I felt it force its way deep inside me, where even his cock hadn’t reached.
I laid there, faced shoved down, as he squirted load, after load, deep into my pussy. As he moaned in pleasure, I cried in shame and horror! With every squirt, I felt his huge cock flex, stretching my pussy, making me cry out. With each burst, it became less and less, smaller and smaller, until he was finished. He fell forward, resting on top of me for a minute. As he lay there on top of me, breathing heavy into my ear, I thought to myself, “I should have just let him have my panties….”
To be continued………
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