*Drug and alcohol triggers in this chapter.*
Up and Coming Chapter 2
I couldn’t have imagined the level of stimulation a machine could produce in a body until I was tied to one. Reggie didn’t believe in marital aids so I had almost no experience with being vibrated down there. The plastic penis they had forced me down on moved and vibrated inside me with savage intensity while another part vibrated against my clitoris. I started cuming almost instantly. Harder than I had known was possible. And they were doing it to my poor baby girl, too. She had never stopped begging me to help her while they handled me and tied me down on the thing.
“Make it stop, pleeease Mama, pleeeease!” she begged.
The machine they tied me to butted up against hers so that we faced each other. My hands were cuffed behind my back so I couldn’t hold her but we were so close that our knees touched. I tried to focus on that small comfort but that awareness was swamped by the sensory overload annihilating my core.
Andrea’s eyes had lost focus and a string of drool hung from her slack mouth as her body lurched on the heartless machine. My torture had just begun but who knows how long they’ve been doing this to her. Slimy trails of pink wetness flowed from her where her vagina met the saddle. ‘Oh God,’ I thought. ‘Those monsters have stolen my baby’s virginity!’
Suddenly the machines were turned off. Andrea’s head hung slack between her upraised arms as she panted heavily. I wasn’t sure if she was conscious. My body felt as if it were still vibrating though the torture had stopped. So much pleasure and so much pain in my heart. I was confused that both could happen simultaneously. I thought my poor baby must be losing her mind. Her first sexual experience was rape and forced orgasms. I felt despair that I couldn’t protect her.
“Please,” I panted. “Please let her go… Jackson?… Please… You can have me,… Just let her go,… please.”
I couldn’t see him behind me but I felt hands on my naked back and knew it was him. I cringed at his touch. He whispered into my ear, “Oh Mom, this is just the beginning. It’s going to get *so* much worse.”
I knew in my heart that he was telling the truth but I couldn’t imagine what could be worse than what was already happening. Jackson slid his disgusting hands down my sides and then around my ribs to cup my breasts. Oh God, it felt good. I was disgusted with myself but I couldn’t help how it felt as my son rolled my nipples between his fingers. I felt my hips moving on the plastic cock inside of me as he fondled me. The shame was overwhelming.
“That’s the spirit, Mom. Just enjoy it,”
That bitch sauntered over and squatted next to me and my daughter. She put a hand on my thigh and began stroking me. “We haven’t been properly introduced,” she began.
“I know who you are, you horrible thing,” I interrupted. “You’re the whore who corrupted my son.”
She smiled in response and gave Jackson a knowing look. “Oh Ginger, you have no idea.”
She grabbed my chin with one hand and leaned in like she was going to kiss me. When her lips were inches from mine she said, “Your son is a powerful man. He is going to show you just how powerful. Believe me when I tell you, do not resist him. Obey, and it will be less painful. For you and your sweet girl. Yes?”
She sounded like the fucking villain I always suspected she was.
While she was talking his hands were roaming my naked body. My mind was a storm of emotions. I’d never known such helplessness or confusion. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. There had to be a way out. But there wasn’t. I couldn’t be this turned on by my son touching me. But I was.
That bitch turned her attention to my daughter. She crushed her breast in one hand, grabbed a handful of her long blond hair with the other and pulled her head up from her chest with it. “Are you with us, sweetie?” she taunted.
Andrea stared back at her with unfocused eyes. Maria slapped her. “Wakee, wakee, baby. Time to focus.”
“Don’t you touch her!” I screamed.
Maria looked back at me with a bemused smile. “Oh Ginger,” she singsonged like I was a child who had said a silly thing. She turned back to my baby and began to kiss her like they were lovers. I’m sure Andrea didn’t know what was happening to her but she allowed that bitch to invade her mouth with her tongue. I let out a scream of frustration at my helplessness.
Suddenly the machines came to life again. My mind shorted out as the powerful sensations destroyed me. Jackson pinched my nipples mercilessly. The pain was breathtaking. My body danced like a marionette on the relentless robot between my thighs. I wouldn’t have guessed that it was possible to cum any more after the first eternity on the machine, but I was wrong about that, too. I came in waves, each bigger than the last, each leaving me gasping for air before the next wave swept me under. How could pleasure be agony? I couldn’t believe my mind could endure what was happening without breaking. I willed myself to break so that it would stop. It didn’t. Instead, time ceased to exist. I was only orgasm.
Andrea screamed and I remembered that she was enduring this, too. I prayed, ’Lord save my baby. Please God, if you are good, save my baby.’ But she kept on screaming.
The Devil is a woman. When I opened my eyes she was laughing gleefully while she poked all over Andrea’s lithe body with a plastic looking baton. Every time she touched her naked flesh there was the sharp crack of an electric shock over the roar of our machines. With every shock, Andrea’s body convulsed and her slack mouth became a rictus grin as she screamed. Between shocks, her eyes briefly focused on mine. The pain and confusion there broke me. I broke. I surrendered. I came. I came. I came. Minutes or days passed. I didn’t know anymore. At some point, I felt my mouth being covered by another mouth and I surrendered to it. In the back of my mind a thought floated above the maelstrom. ‘Jackson is my son.’ He kissed me hungrily and tortured my nipples with his fingers and I came. I came.
I wasn’t aware of the machine stopping again, but slowly my consciousness accepted that my body was in transition to a different state. The orgasm that was life was fading, though my body still erupted in orgasmic pulses at random intervals. I had a vivid memory of turning on the ancient shop t.v. for years my father had stubbornly insisted was fine and didn’t need replacing. It would wake slowly in fits and starts as the tubes heated up inside. As my mind reassembled itself I remembered that the transcendent pleasure I was experiencing was a bad thing. I remembered that my child was enduring the same and more. At least she wasn’t screaming anymore. I felt hands loosening the ropes that bound me to the machine. I was lifted off of that evil plastic cock. My son carried my limp body into the master bedroom and deposited me on the bed like I had done for him once upon a time.
“Stay there,” was all he said before walking out and closing the door behind him. I obeyed. I don’t think my legs were ready to support me yet, anyway. I lay there on the bed still buzzing from a massive endorphin release. I felt high. I understood that my mind was not fully back online. I listened to activity in the main room and tried to guess from it what was happening. I felt like there was something I should be doing but I couldn’t think of what it was.
I heard footsteps approaching and the bedroom door opened. That bitch walked in holding a glass of something dark and red that looked like wine. I wanted it desperately. I raised myself into a sitting position as she approached. She held the glass out to me. I slapped it from her hand then instantly regretted it when the wine spilled all over the heirloom quilt that covered the kingsize bed. She raised one eyebrow and considered me for a moment. Without a word she turned and left the room.
The sound of evening crickets floated in through the open window. I felt my nipples harden as a cool breeze lifted the white lace curtains and realized that my body still glistened with sweat. Clothes. That was a start. My still packed bag was here in the room with me. I could dress.
Just as that thought occurred to me I heard footsteps approaching and that bitch walked in again. Again, she was holding a shallow glass of red wine. This time she sat near me on the edge of the bed but didn’t offer it to me. That’s when the screaming started. Without thinking I started to rise from the bed to go to my daughter but Maria placed a surprisingly strong hand on my chest and held me back.
“What can you do?” she asked rhetorically and I knew she was right. I couldn’t stop anything my son wanted to do even if that bitch wasn’t here to help him.
“Please,” I begged. “Anything. I’ll do anything. Please make him stop.” I reached for the wine glass but this time she held it out of my reach.
“He will stop when I tell him, but first we must talk,” she said with maddening calm.
My daughter’s screams elevated in pitch and my heart hurt in my chest while my imagination tried to invent a picture of what my son was doing to his sister. “No, Jack, no! Jack don’t! No, no, no, no, AAAAIEEEH!” she screamed from the living room.
“Please,” I begged.
She leaned close to me again. Gently this time she cupped my quivering jaw in her hand and said, “You are beautiful woman.” That’s when I knew. I have traveled extensively as the wife of a congressman and I have spoken to many excellent speakers of English as a second language. No matter how masterful the accent, Russian speakers of English frequently forget to use pronouns.
She saw me realize this and shrugged. “Yes. Is true. So what?’ she said no longer trying to hide her accent. “ He knows. He doesn’t care. I am his truest and greatest friend. I make his dreams come true.” To make her point she dropped her hand to my breast and fondled my nipple. I let her.
Andrea’s screams pierced my body over and over. It was unbearable. I wanted to die.
“Have you ever been with a woman?” she asked.
“What? No, of course not!” I said knowing how defensive I sounded.
“I’ll show you,” she said and placed a hand on the back of my neck. With the other, she held the wine glass to my lips and tipped it up. I struggled to swallow fast enough to keep up with her pour but soon the glass was empty and only a little had run down my chin and chest. I felt the familiar tannins that follow a good cabernet begin to burn my mouth but there was also an unpleasant bitterness that didn’t belong.
‘Oh,’ I thought. ‘Drugs’.
Suddenly she yelled, “Okay, Jack!” over her shoulder.
Finally, blessedly, Andrea stopped screaming. I wept with relief.
“Now, Ginger dearest. I show you.” She placed a hand on my chest and pushed me back down on the bed.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fm6h2v/up_and_coming_mfff_rape_incest_bdsm_m_dom_f_dom
Very good …
I was going back to bed … But then this story caught my eye. And I had to read all five parts. Maybe devour would be a better word. You are masterful with your ability to create visual imagery through words. Ironically, it’s almost painful. Which makes it especially more fitting for this story.