Fold, Spindle, and Mommy-rape Pt. 2 by DiscipleN

– all characters herein are 18 or older by the time they act sexually. –

Knocking woke me to Monday. “Mom? Are you okay? It’s nine AM.” Race sounded concerned.

For my work as an agent, I hired a desk from a local real estate office. I could come an go as much as I pleased. I wished I was already there. Race was late for school, though. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m more worried about you.”

“Then, go on to class. We’ll talk when you get back home.” I tried.

Several “tinks” sounded from the knob. He knew how to unlock it from the outside. I knew that he knew. I had hoped…

Race pushed the door open and walked in naked. “Hurry, Mom. I have to get dressed.”

“Huh?” I saw his erection. Proud and eager, it bobbed towards me. Under the sheet and blankets, I still wore the damp towel from the afternoon before. He tore at the bedding and hopped onto the mattress. His prick aimed at my eyes. “You need to be fed, Mom.” His hands grabbed my head and he punched cock into my lips. It meet clenched teeth.

“Ow! Mom. You hurt me!” He pretented the victim. His hands tightened their grip. “Open up. I don’t have time.”

I shook my head. I wanted to remind him how wrong this was, but I dared not open my mouth.

Then he surprised me. He leaned forward and kissed my lips, spitting into them. When I spat it back, his fingers pushed my cheeks between my teeth and forced my jaw open. Cock returned to it’s mother’s forced tongue. “God, your mouth feels better than yesterday!” He pumped his prick quickly.

To avoid suffocating again, I matched his thrusting with my breaths, in and out.

“Moan for me, Mom! Moan for me, like you did last time.”

I had NOT moaned. I had maybe groaned. It seemed like an important difference at the time. Less than twenty four hours had passed since having my son’s cock fuck my face for the first time. I slapped his arms with my hands, but mine had little strength. My anger was still asleep.

Race lasted a minute, maybe two before unloading his balls into my mouth. I doubt he had tried to hold back. He wanted to get to school. Why now, I wondered. He was a fair student but had never been eager to go. Did something about raping his mommy’s lips and throat promote academic attendance?

Once again I choked on his semen. He pushed deep with his prick and poured the stuff down my neck. The little I tasted was slightly better without my retch fluid. I had managed his raping dick without suffocating. Pulling out, he told me again. “You should lick up what you didn’t swallow.”

I frowned. He smiled and stretched a finger to my cheeks and chin. He dumped his escaped seed into the hole he had intended. “You’ll have to shower, this time, Mom. I’ve gotta go.”

I cried in the shower. He hadn’t even given me a chance to explain how wicked his actions were, how un-godly, and how forceful he was becoming. I resolved to fight whatever demon had possessed my son. I read the bible all day.

I knew exactly when he would return from school. When Race was in a hurry home, it took exactly twenty three minutes from when the last bell rang. I waited inside the door, bible in one hand, a wooden spoon in the other. I had been making cookies, and I wasn’t aware of holding the spoon. I had spotted the clock just in time and had raced to the door. The lock clicked and the door swung in.

“Oh, good!” He smiled. His arms went for a hug. I stepped back, but not far enough. “Mmm, Mom. It’s good to be home. And you were waiting for me!” He hugged me gently. I blinked, trying to recompose my righteousness.

“Son, we need to talk. I believe you have succumbed to-“

“Sure, Mom.” He saw the bible. “Did you want to pray? Get on your knees.”

“Yes!” I brightened. Maybe he had considered his evil. He knelt slightly. “Let us pray, to rid this curse from you.” My smiled beamed hope at him, and my knees touched the carpet before his.”

“Oops! The door.” He spun around and closed it. Pray was a private matter, I agreed. If forced to in public, one must not be ashamed to show true faith.

“Oh, heavenly Father.” I began. I heard a zipper. He turned back to me. His cock swung like a baseball bat. I dodged away.

“Pray to me, Mom. It’ll be good practice for when you really are my slave.” He slapped me. “But never, EVER, say ‘father’!”

His attack stunned me long enough to find my son’s prick plunging once more into my mouth, his hands pressing the back of my head. This time he had betrayed God. That hurt more than his raping cock. Still, I didn’t cry. I had to survive my son’s fresh assault. I had to breathe, I told myself. Sobs would disturb my timing.

I discovered that by tightening my lips at the right time and pressing on the underside of my boy’s retreating prick, I could fine tune his fucking of my face. He could dig deeper into my gullet and I could pull in more air than the first two times.

“Ohhh, That’s it, Mom, tongue me and suck me!” Race delighted. This time he tried to hold out. His prick stabbed beyond my tongue for nearly four minutes before he howled with glee. “Uuunnnngggghh!!! YEAAAAH!” His cock pressed hard, and his cum blasted down my throat. “Cuummmmiingg, Moooomm!!!”

This time, there wasn’t any sperm on my face for him to wipe into my mouth. I had hardly tasted any of it. He wasn’t phased. “Tasted good, I bet. Huh, Mom?”

This was my first chance in two days. “Race, those books are worse than fairy tales. You can’t turn women into cum sluts!”

“I know. I know, Mom” He pushed his withering, shining dick into his pants and zipped up. “Just like that book couldn’t turn Dad into a nice man.”

Our bible remained clenched in my left hand. He left me staring at it.

“That felt really good, Mom.” Were his parting words.

After baking the cookies, I ate one. The Holy Bible was now their trivet. I left the kitchen and knocked on Race’s door.

“What is it? I’m studying.”

I’d never caught my boy studying. His father would threaten to beat him, but that was years ago. I guess I had assumed Race studied. It’s just that I rarely visited when he was in his room.

“I won’t bother you, then.”

“Those cookies smell pretty great.”

“Do you want one?”

“Do you have one?” I guessed he didn’t want me to bother him again, if I didn’t.

“Yes.” I turned the door knob and entered holding up a saucer with two warm treats.

Race sat at his small desk, a paperback book lay on it. He couldn’t have been more than two or three chapters in. Taking up a quarter of his room, a worn Sousaphone waited on its stand.

“I’ll set these here.” I placed the saucer on the closest corner. His hand grabbed my wrist!

“There were some words here I didn’t know. I needed to ask my English teacher, today.”

Oh, that had been his hurry. “Please, let go.”

“Just a sec. Now that you’re here.” His eyes pierced mine with lust. “Let me read it to you.” He released my hand. “Sit down.”

The only place was on his bed. I could have ran, but my son’s passion, seemed directed at the book. He read as I sat, ready to bolt past him. “‘Mommy, are you my cum slut?’

“‘No. That’s a pinnacle of abomination!’ The freshly raped mother lied.” Race turned to me. “See, Mom. I bet, you’re just like this mom. You’ve been lying to me.”

“No, Honey, don’t ever think that. I wouldn’t lie to you, even after you force yourself on me. I want to help you!”

“Yeah! That’s it!” He got excited, and turned a few pages. “Here it is. The mom says, ‘Mommy just want’s to help you, Honey.’ The boy answers, ‘Help me cum then, Mommy!'” Race slammed the book shut as if he had proven his point. The tawdry cover had a colored drawing of a young man wearing bulging cotton briefs, looming over his naked mother posed so that you could see her out-thrust tits but not her groin. The title was “Mommy’s Rape Son” by Kat-

“Mom!” Race called. I blinked and looked back at him.

“No! I thought you didn’t believe in these books!”

“When did I say that?” He disbelieved me. “Oh, what I meant, after feeding my cum to you was, I agreed those kind of book are worse than fairy tales. Fairy tales are for little kids. Kids shouldn’t be allowed to read these. These books are meant for you and me.” Race launched himself out of his chair at me, knocking me across his bed and his Sousaphone off of its stand. I kicked and slapped. He was better at blocking my blows. In a flash I was pinned to the bed, and my son began stripping me.

“You need to stop wearing these.” He had struggled to release my bra and pull it off. I had tried to twist and escape, but he was like a python, curled around his victim. “I’m going to fuck you proper this time, Mom. Maybe if I mix things up, you’ll mind-break quicker.”

“That’s never going to happen!” I rebelled. He stripped my pants faster than the bra. I had worn my pair with the most buttons. Unfortunately, he wore some with just as many and familiar with their efficient separation. Naked except for my bleach white panties I continued to pummel him with my knees and my fists. He took every one with hardly a flinch. I didn’t hold back. I know I was hurting him. His father had conditioned him to endure worse.

Reaching for the crotch of my panties, he thumbed it aside and exposed my hairy vagina. “Are you wet yet, Mom?” His index finger probed. “I’m going to fuck you with your panties on. So I can take them for my prize after our juices mingle in them.” His finger had trouble finding ingress. I was dry as a witch. He pouted. “If you hang them over the front door, they’re suppose to turn any MILF who walks under them into a slut.” His voice lost power as his finger informed him of his incorrect assumption. He froze for a second, flashing his confusion.

He brightened. “Oh, yeah, I’m suppose to do this.” He spat into his hand and reached back to my puss. I had tired of punching him, but when his slick fingers penetrated my outer folds, I pounded his bed with my legs and fists, and I screamed. “Please, Son, don’t do this!”

“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll take my time.” His spit drenched fingers searched again and finally found my inner orifice. I expected him to thrust with all his might. Instead, he massaged my vaginal opening. With his other hand he toyed with my nipples, alternating between them. “We’ll see who’s book is right.” He smiled down at me, confident in his religion.

This time, it was Nature who betrayed me. My cleaving crevice wept to protect itself. Race’s patient fingers felt the change. “That’s better, Mom. See, you’ll be my slut in no time.”

A minute later, he was finger fucking my prick hole as far as fingers reached, while maintaining the same leisurely pace.

“Please, it just happens. I can’t control that.”

“Just like the books say. Mommies eventually lose all control.”

Two minutes later, he scooted down my body and pushed his cock into my wet cunt.

I yelled. I bucked and pummeled him. He only pummeled my sex in return, smiling with closed eyes. “Fucking you is incredible, Mommy.”

It occurred to me, at the worst time, that Race hadn’t called me “Mommy”, in years. It had only re-entered his vocabulary in the last two days. Why was I even thinking that, when my son was raping me and would cum inside me at any moment? I cursed him, and I pleaded. “Get out, wicked boy! Get out of Mommy’s special place for babies!”

“That’s right, Mommy. I can put a baby in you! That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” He fucked me harder. “Ooohh, I can’t hold it. Much. Longer!”

I panicked! “Race, you mustn’t! Don’t cum in me! It’s abomination!”

That really amped his pounding hips. The big prick drilling my cunt tore deeper inside, until he was pounding on my cervix! I screamed. “It hurts! STOP!”

He slowed, a bit. His glazed eyes blinked. It was my only chance.

“Let me drink your cum. You want Mommy to be your cum-slut, right?” I rattled off like a machine gun. “Shoot your big cock full of juice into mommy’s mouth, Honey. How can I ever learn to like, um, LOVE your cum if you aren’t consistent?”

“Ohh, Jeez!” His face lit up with indecision. He had less than three seconds. I opened my mouth wide. My eyes pleaded.

It took him one second to pull out and hop forward. His prick hiccuped and hot cum exploded over my face. He managed to poke my mouth for the second blast. Boiling semen flooded my tongue. I closed my lips on his heaving prick and sucked.

“Moan for me, Mommy!” He ordered.

I prevented myself from smiling. I didn’t moan. I did suck every last drop from my son’s spewing tool. It was the first time I had enough of the boy’s spend where I could actually taste it. I contemplated it’s disagreeable flavor while Race wiped his spunk from my face and into my receptive lips. His sperm stung my eyes.

“Good call, Mom.” He delighted. “It tastes so good, you’re crying.” There was no doubt in his mind that I would soon be begging him for his cum.

When I think about it, I guess I had. Not that I ever would again. I promised myself while rolling the last swipes of cooled semen across my tongue.

He ran a bath for me again. This was also new behavior. My son was changing in more ways than just into a rapist. I accepted a towel from him and stepped in. We were both bruised. Hot water and creamy soap help to sooth my ravishment. I assumed Race returned to his room to continue studying his rape books.

Recent memories flooded my wobbling mind. If I didn’t make sense of these horrible experiences, I would lose myself and not in the way that Race desired. I imagined myself a suicidal husk. The thought of involving the police or an abuse agency amused me for half a second, before believing with certainty, that I would end up behind bars. I wanted to run away from home. What would my heroes do in this case? Xena would have tossed the boy into a home for wayward youth. Hillary would have ignored the assaults, as long as she had time to run the country. My most secret hero, Courtney Love – well, let’s not consider her, it would only have proved Race’s case. They weren’t real people, anyway, at least not to me. Anne, my occasional tennis partner, she had two boys Race’s age. She was a top executive at a major hardware chain. She had two boyfriends who knew about each other. She had the best parties, and I always had admired the single men who flocked to them. Not that I had ever scored one of them beyond a quickie in one of her house’s many walk-in closets.

What would Anne do? What if one, or both, of her boys tried to force themselves on her? Maybe she had studied Karate and would tie THEM up with their own arms and legs. Should I study Karate? That would take too long, I huffed. My thoughts turned to the cooling water. I didn’t want to freeze like last time. I ended my bath and toweled myself harshly. Going to my room, I grabbed my cell phone from my purse. I had to charge it. Waiting for it to come back to life, I dithered over what I was going to say. Everything sounded either awkward or insane. I tapped “Anne” in my contacts and the phone came alive. My hand quivered.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Anne, it’s Lainey. Have you studied Karate?”

“Lainey?” I gritted my teeth at her confusion. “What?”

“Oh, I-I’m having trouble with my boy-“

“Take him back to the nut house, Lainey. Let The Man sort him out.”

“But he’s been better. He studies more.” Porn, I winced on the inside.

“Then what’s the issue? I don’t have much time, but for you, another two minutes.”

“H-he’s become very s-s-sexual.” Two minutes! How could I figure this out in two minutes? “I tried to instill the joy of Holy God, took him to sunday school all these years-“

“I can hear you’re afraid, Sweetheart. Don’t be. My boys are champing at the bit to spread their DNA, but I made a deal. They wear condoms, or I cut off their balls.”

Horrified! Her words completely horrified me. How could she make a pact with two raping sons? Was she a succubus, a whore, a slut? “May God have mercy on your family!” I prayed for her from my heart.

“Hey, it isn’t that bad. I let them do it at home. So I know who they’re doing it with. Some of their gir-“

“I’m sorry. Those two minutes must be up. Be brave, Anne. God’s love will save you.” I tapped the disconnect icon. Dropping the phone, I held my face and cried. The friend I most admired sounded like she welcomed girding by her sons’.

At some point, Race knocked on my bedroom door. “I’m hungry, Mom. I don’t want to eat just cookies.”

I put on control top panties and a bra and a thick house robe. Race helped with peeling carrots and washing broccoli. He seemed, happy. He even prepared the table for the pot roast I first microwaved then baked to sear the surface. Race took everything to the table for me. He even held my seat.

“I know it’s been rough on you, Mom. Me too, but we’ll get through this.”

I sat, unable to respond. I simply wanted to eat, run back to my room, and wedge a chair under the doorknob. Beside the fork and knife was a paperback book.

It’s colorful, rushed illustration depicted a matronly woman, bare breasted, wearing white panties. She was tied standing to a wall. At her sides were two boys, one with a whip and another with a cattle prod. The bulges in their cotton briefs were unmistakable. Her brown-blonde hair made me think of Anne. I shook my head, to tear my eyes and thoughts from the evil tome entitled, “Two Rape Sons for Mom” by Kath-

“You should read that.” Race said with a mouth full of stringy beef.

I ducked my head and focused on my food. I ate a few bites but wasn’t hungry. I stood up, pushing back my chair. “Just leave me alone.” I sobbed and ran to my bedroom.

The trick with the chair must have worked. An hour later the door rattled. Then “Two Rape Sons for Mom” slid in under it. Dressing for bed. I kneeled and prayed, for strength. I picked up the book and dumped it in my spotless wastebasket. Crawling under the covers, I despaired. “My life was surrounded by rape.

I did not kill myself, but I couldn’t sleep. I had to face a devil and defeat it. Best to fight a small one first. I got out of bed, turned on the light, and retrieved Race’s disgusting book. He had used their words against me. Maybe I could find ones to refute him, but I had left my bible in the kitchen.

The woman’s ravishment didn’t start until the third chapter. The first was innocent enough, almost sweet, except “Donna” admitted that she longed to have a strong man after her husband had died rescuing ponies from a flood. In the second chapter, she witnessed her two boys playing with a neighbor girl. When their play got a little rough, Donna stepped in and stopped them. She sent the girl home, rightfully, except the tart didn’t appreciate being saved, as if she’d enjoyed how Donna’s sons had started to tear off her clothes. I stopped reading partway into the third chapter, when her sons had tied her up in her sleep. They woke their mom and dragged her through the house with a chain around her neck, until they reached the garage. Pinning “Mommy” to a wall, they escalated their evil deeds.

Sick and wishing I hadn’t eaten anything, I raced to the master bath and upchucked into the toilet.

Race found me in a nightshirt and panties, washing my mouth. He grinned, “Supper wasn’t the food that you need, huh?” He cupped his exposed balls and hefted them.

“How did you get in?” I stared at my son’s groin and gulped.

“Oh, Mommy, I know you’re not dumb. If I can fit a book under your door, I can fit a pole under and push the legs out from a leaning chair. The internet has answers for everything!”

“Does it have an answer for protecting a mom from rape?”

His eyes lit up. “Gee, you liked the book that much? I figured I’d have to supply you with half of my collection before you wanted to read porn on the internet! You’re coming along nicely. Are you ready for a snack that’ll soothe your tummy?” He strutted closer.

I managed to push past him, but he caught me exiting to the hall. I fell on my hands and knees. His hands dived to my panties and he stripped them over my ass and down to my ankles before I could defend myself. I kicked back, ineffectually due to the panties.

“I guess I could fuck you on this end, Mommy.” His cock found a dry pussy, once more. “Hrrgg.” He grunted.

Instead of spitting in his hand, he leaned down and kissed my sex. His tongue laved spit into my vulva. “You have a tasty pussy, Mommy. I’ll make it plenty wet, until it catches up with your needs.”

“No, Race, you can’t fuck your Mommy.” I pounded the carpet with my fists. I tried reaching back and hitting his head, but he just took the blows. I didn’t have the courage or hatred to remind him of his more abusive parent, until I felt his big prick push into me. It took a second for him to find the right spot to sink in deep. I cursed! “Damn you, Race. You have to listen to me! Obey your Mommy!”

His cock roared into full gear. He pumped it into me like he’d been fucking for years. My pussy gobbled his spit coated prick against my will. “Oooohhhh, SOO much better than your mouth, Mommy, like the books say.”

He’d already experienced fucking into my cunt, but his time he felt more confident of his strokes. Nature wanted sex to be accessible, at least physically. Fucking me doggie style let him control me more easily. His hand on my hips shifted my body to accommodate his pace. The fuck meat in my cunt ground in and out, while I wailed. “Get your penis out of Mommy!” and “Don’t think of cumming in me, Race!”

My son grunted with victory, the more I complained and opposed him. He fucked cock into me, steadily, not rushing. He wanted to master me. I knew, his only accomplishment would be to defile his mother one more time. I wanted to throw up again.

I shut up, to focus on maintaining my innards.

“Do you like it now, Mommy?” He cheered. “Is my hot cock making you cum? Are you turning in my mommy fuck slave?” His rhythm increased in proportion to his imagination of my becoming his sex toy. The vibrations drilling inside of my groin rattled me. I panicked.

“YES! honey, fuck your mommy!” It was a line from the book I’d read. “ORRR-” I paused, the assault in my vagina slowed.

“Or what Mommy?”

“Or you could, um, make me your slave faster by- NO.” I pretended to stop. “I can’t say it…”

“Tell me Mommy. How can I make you my slave?” Race’s fucking stabilized. His pounding cock fell heavily into me, to punish me? It’s firm length hit my cervix. The last time he did that he was about to explode. That. Mustn’t. Happen.

“Ow! Oww!” I cried. “Not that!” I threw my head back and wailed. “You were right! You were right! It’s your cum, a son’s dirty, nasty, hot cum that turns mommies into fuck slaves. If I don’t eat it many times a day, I’ll keep fighting you!” I paraphrased from, “Two Rape Sons for Mommy.”

“Are you going to suck me then, and be my mommy fuck face?”

“I will! I will!” I cranked my head around to meet his eye. “Mommy will eat your cum, the cum from her son’s balls.”

Two seconds later, I tasted my pussy and his spit, accepting my boy’s prick deep into my face. I had experience now, breathing in time with his fucking. I used my lips and tongue to adjust his strokes to my inhales and exhales.

His fingers unbuttoned my night shirt, exposing my naked breasts. “You’re so beautiful. I love playing with your titties!” His hands groped me and pinched my nipples. I grunted when he pinched too hard.

“I could cum, Mommy. I like your sucking mouth. I’m making you cum too, right? You’re getting all hot from fucking and titty mashing and cocksucking. Fucking you was better, but if this makes you my slave faster- EEhhh- AAAAAWWWGHHHH!!!!!” The thought of his mother, bending to his every sexual desires tipped my boy’s raping brain into orgasm. His entire body clenched, stopping his fuck tool where his thick head paused on the back of my tongue. I was ready.

Gushing with fire and speed, cum spattered the walls of my throat. I swallowed quickly and deflected the second blast with the back of my tongue. It’s rich flavor had a rancid meat musk. I grimaced and swallowed again. Six strong heaves send more of the sour flavor into my gullet. His cock and balls relaxed. The rest oozed out of the tip. I gulped and gulped, sometimes nibbling and licking Race’s engorged prick.

“You didn’t spill a drop, this time, Mommy!” My boy shouted with glee. “Tell me you’ll be my cum sucking slut from now on.”

“Son, do I have to?” I regretted fooling him, but it was for the most important cause, to keep him from impregnating his mother.

At first he pouted. But my boy was sly. When a grin broke across his pursed lips, he exclaimed. “Of course, if you did, you’d already be my slave.” He slapped my face, but not as hard as his father would. “I have to make you.” My son grew fierce. “Say it, Mommy. Say you’ll be my cum sucking, mommy fuck face.”

I couldn’t stand his glare. “I can’t fight you anymore tonight.” I relinquished.

“Say it, Mommy.” He slapped me again, but less hard.

“Mommy will be your cum sucker.” I tried. The book had promised severe punishment for not repeating a master’s words, exactly. I cringed, remembering that.

“Okay.” He left me to turn on the shower. His drooping cock glistening from my lubrication and spit and the last drop of his cum, my son padded out of my bedroom.