Fold, Spindle, and Mommy-rape Part 3 [mF, inc, nc, rape]

Fold, Spindle, and Mommy Rape Part 3.
by DiscipleN


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


I managed a full night’s sleep after a long shower, until Race woke me the next morning by pulling my jaw open.

“Huh? Race? Hey! NO!” I shrunk back. His hands grabbed my head and pulled my face back to his outthrust prick.

“Remember what you promised.” He cautioned. “You even said you needed my cum several times a day.” His cock pressed my lips.

All I could remember was how sick I had felt. I wanted to fight him, to prove he would never win, as God was my protector. I was simply too groggy. I let my son’s hard prick slide into my mouth.

Head limp, he used me like a doll, fucking my mouth quickly. His hands bobbed my head to his preferred pace. “Suck me, Mommy.” He urged.

I debated it, decided it might get his rocks off sooner… I closed my lips around his pumping shaft and sucked.

“Soo goood! You’ll be my slave, soon, Mommy.” He smiled. “I just know it!”

He lasted nearly a minute before I tasted his cum. The hint of rancid meat remained, but my stomach didn’t rebel this time.

When he left, he didn’t run the shower, but I saw that he had laid out clothes for me. They were as slutty as my wardrobe offered, a tight pair of jeans, a low cut blouse with frills at the cleavage, red, semi-transparent panties. He had failed to pick a bra. No. I discovered, he had taken all of my bras, but only from my dresser. I found yesterday’s pair in the hamper. I showered quickly and donned the bra, my mind working on what I would actually wear, probably my most frumpy things. It was a work day howev- “EEWWW!!” I clamored.

Upon fitting a breast into the first cup, a cold, wet sticky mass adhered to my nipple. Then the smell hit me. Don’t tell me, Race had cum once, before assaulting my mouth this morning! Was that why he had lasted longer than usual? I dried off both cups, as best I could, with tissues. I was determined not to wear what my son had decided for me. I went downstairs wearing a man’s shirt and a sweater and an older pair of dress slacks. Fortunately, Race hadn’t raided my supply of control top panties.

I fixed breakfast and demanded to know where my bras were! I didn’t think anything odd about multitasking this way.

“You don’t need them. They just get in the way, and I like looking at your nipples through your shirt.” My son was pouting, no longer sex crazed having cummed twice, he must have reverted the good boy I knew him to be. Okay, not quite. “I want to feel up your titties, when ever I like. So then I can get hard and fuck you even more.”

“Look at you.” He continued, “You’re sweating. At least take off your sweater when you’re cooking.”

It was the sensible thing. I felt I shouldn’t reward his lustful side, even for being sensible. I embraced my sweat.

After sending Race to school, I had only a few minutes to search before hitting the road and work. I found my bras stuffed under the couch. It was a heavy hide-a-bed, with a low edge to the carpet. He must have pushed them under one at a time. I had to retrieve them in the same way. Some tore.

Arriving late to work, I felt I had escaped. Why should I ever return to my house and my raping boy? I took off my sweater.

It was a good day. I managed to put two places into escrow that day. The commissions would be small. The market had weakened and every day more agents fresh from online trainings knocked on the company’s door.

I celebrated by buying a nice set of sensible home attire. I almost rented a hotel room.

“Mom! What did you buy me?” Race halted practicing his Sousaphone and ran from his room upon my late arrival. He saw the packages in my arms.

“The next time you set out clothes for your mom, you can set out these.” I wanted to encourage the good side of his actions this morning.

After ripping into the boxes and sacks, he turned a mean eye to me. “You’re suppose to buy sexy things!” He stamped his food and marched back to his room.

I was folding the items my son had strewn in his rush to find hot mom clothes, when he reappeared. He threw something at me! I turned but too slowly, it struck my shoulder and hit the floor. “That’s YOUR homework!” He shouted and stomped back into his room.

White letters,”Raped Mom, Raping Son”, across a red banner stared up at me from the carpet. This time the cover showed a photograph of a young woman with small breasts and a timid smile.

After stacking the folded clothes, I placed the book on top and carried the pile to my room.

Race sat naked on my bed. “You forgot something, Mommy.”

To avoid yet another argument and bruises, I sucked my son’s cock until he poured hot, sticky goo into my stomach. For dinner I made a vegetarian main dish with broiled fish as a side entree. Race ate happily. By bedtime, the flavor of my son’s spurting cum had much improved.