1. Fold, Spindle, and Mommy-rape Pt. 1


    Date: 9/11/2018, Categories: Fantasy, Oral Sex / Blowjob, Cruelty, Cum Swallowing, Extreme, Hardcore, Incest, Non-consensual sex, Older, Rape, Teen, Violence, Written by women, Author: DiscipleN, Source: sexstories.com

    Fold, Spindle, and Mommy Rape by DiscipleN Copyright (c) 2016, by DiscipleN. All rights reserved. - all characters herein are 18 or older by the time they act sexually. - Am I totally off the mark here, or should a mother not be exceedingly cross at her child when he rapes her? I've tried to find the answer from books, support groups, or anyone having a reasonable pedigree, but the topic quickly chills psychologists and social workers alike when I ask them. Nobody seems to be talking about this! It's almost as if other mothers all over America don't have to deal with their son raping them on a regular basis. Right, and panda cubs are less cute than koalas. Well, this mother has had it up to her ovaries with incestuous sperm and is determined to put an end to the silence about this national tragedy! I was so looking forward to having children and loving them and raising them to live successful, happy lives. My dreams, beginning before high school, were very precise on the matter. I would marry a handsome building contractor, spend a few years just for ourselves, but not too many, creating the perfect home and being the perfect husband and wife. Then after much careful planning and yes, education, we'd have two children, first a son for him, and then a daughter for me. Our boy would become a great sousaphonist, and my little girl would grow up to fight for noble causes like abandoned pets and corruption at the horse track. Some readers might think my dreams were perhaps a bit ...
    too specific, but a woman should always know what she wants, in advance. I am strong. I am woman. I can do anything a man can do, as long as I'm married to him. Henry was not a building contractor, exactly, but he was hired regularly, on cash contracts to caulk the windows of leaky old houses and newly constructed town homes. I figured he just needed to apply himself a little more, and soon he'd be hiring illegal aliens and managing projects for the city. He was rather handsome, until misfortune intervened in my life plan. We'd been married nearly a year, a year of true marital bliss, when a construction site crane toppled down and smashed Henry's left arm and left leg, leaving him scared all along that side from forehead to pinky toe. The very good fortune from that terrible accident was, Henry was still able to impregnate me. With my tongue firmly stuck out at Miss-fortune, we did have a son. We named him Race, after a character from Henry's favorite, classic cartoon show, or some new reincarnation of it. Henry watched a lot of television after his accident. I tried not to mind, and I didn't complain at all about the name he chose for our nine week old fetus. I would be the one who named my daughter, Patricia Annabel Chloe Cutter. I looked so forward to calling my darling daughter to my side, 'oh PattyAnnie, come to Mommy!' I was sure I could nurse my devoted husband back to health and inspire him to take the county contractor's exam. I bought him audio tapes about how to ...
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